Month: March 2019

Back from Baja…

BajaBound, the best insurance when venturing south of the border.

I’m enjoying a cup of coffee in my favorite mug, nice and warm at home listening to the rain coming down on this fine post-Baja morning.   As much fun as riding in Baja is, it’s always good to be home.   Joe is somewhere on the road east of Quartzite, headed to his home on the Tinfiny Ranch in New Mexico.   Ours was a grand Baja adventure ride, and we only had a tiny bit of rain during the last few miles yesterday.

I have a bunch of Interceptor and Bullet photos that I’ll be sharing in the next few days with more information on each bike, and Joe has bunch more and a lot of video.  Like always, he’ll be assembling a video review, and like always, it will be great.

Our special thanks to Royal Enfield North America for trusting us with their motorcycles, and in particular, our good buddy Bree (who made it all happen).

Want to catch up on our Baja Royal Enfield ride?  Hey, here you go…

BajaBound on Royal Enfield
18 Again
The Bullet Hits Home
We’re Off
We’re Off 2
Snapshot
Tecate
San Quintin
Royal Enfield 650cc Twin: First Real Ride
The Plucky Bullet
Guerrero Negro
Ballenos
Whales
The Bullet in Baja
A Funny Thing
No One Goes Hungry
Day 7 and a Wake Up

Oh, and one more thing…don’t forget to sign up for our automatic email updates.   In another 10 days we’ll be announcing the winner of this quarter’s free moto book giveaway, and all you need to do to enter is get your name on our email list!

Day 7 and a wake up…

The Interceptor in Baja. It’s perfect, and a perfect match for Baja’s orange wildflowers. Orange is the fastest color.  Ask Orlando.

As you’re reading this, Gresh and I are having another excellent breakfast at the Malinalli Sabores Autóctonos restaurant next to the Hacienda Hotel in Tecate, where we arrived last night after another excellent day on the road.  As you know, we’ve had a ton of rain this winter, and I’ve never seen Baja so green, orange, and yellow.  The wine country south of Ensenada was stunningly vibrant, the orange and yellow wildflowers were in full bloom, the sky was a brilliant blue, and the Interceptor was perfect.   Folks, there are few things in life that are as much fun as a Baja motorcycle ride.   Doing it on the Enfields was a special treat.  Trust me on this.

The Old Mill Hotel in San Quintin, one of Baja’s best kept secrets and a must see spot for any motorcycle ride.

We rolled out of the Old Mill Hotel in San Quintin late, soaking up the morning sun and enjoying coffee prepared by one of our hotel neighbors.  It was an easy run up Mexico 1 and we set a leisurely pace.   We encountered the same construction delay in the mountains we experienced on the ride south…you know, one of those deals where they stop traffic going each way while folks going the other way have to wait for all of the other folks who have been waiting.   Today was a bit more interesting.  As an 18-wheeler passed a trailer (a trailer that was somehow associated with two guys riding BMWs…do the GS models always come with a support trailer?), it hit the trailer on a tight corner.   That one could get messy.  I hope those riders had their BajaBound insurance.  We sure did.  I never enter Baja without my BajaBound insurance.

Ouch!

After that, we entered the mess that is Ensenada, but we filtered through it quickly.  Then it was on to the Ruta del Vino, a quick stop at the L.A. Cetto vineyards, and back to Tecate.

Uncle Joe in the L.A. Cetto vineyard tasting room. We didn’t taste any wine because we were on the bikes, but I bought a Cabernet to take home. The “t” is silent.

The Interceptor was just perfect, as it has been on this entire trip.   The guys at Southern California Motorcycles in Brea did a fine job prepping the bike for our trip, as was evidenced by the bike’s flawless performance.  I’m going to give you my detailed comments on both the Interceptor and the Bullet in a subsequent blog, as will Joe Gresh.   This has been a hell of a trip, and it’s not over yet.

Stay tuned, my friends!

No One Goes Hungry on a Berk Baja Boondoggle

Most of our time riding Royal Enfield motorcycles through Baja is spent eating. We have breakfast then ride a while. Any time between 10am and 2 pm is lunch time followed by a rolling dinner that lasts several hundred miles.

My T-shirts have stopped buckling and my pants no longer fit over my head. It’s a mess. Take today, we had Chorizo with eggs then cheesecake then chips and guacamole then tuna. Wash it all down with a nice, cold Mexican Negra Modelo beer and call it a moveable feast.

We eat so much so often that our awesome bellies have crushed the Royal Enfields down to Well-Respected Enfields. It’s a shame.

Between meals we managed to knock out a few hundred miles. The Bullet is averaging about 1000 calories per mile while the thirstier 650 twin Royal Enfield is showing signs of early onset diabetes. Pass me another Moon Pie will ya?

I spent the entire day riding the Bullet and it is much improved. Not exactly like it should be but running about 75% better than the last time I tried it. Berk will explain all in his blog.

We are slowly eating our way back to California and if our hearts and livers can hold out, should be home tomorrow.

A Funny Thing Happened on My Way to the Baja Peninsula

When we started off on this trip I hated the Bullet. It was too old fashioned, too slow and it ran terribly. The Royal Enfield 650 in comparison was flawless. The twin ran smoothly and never stumbled. It was plenty fast and I couldn’t imagine anyone buying the Bullet over the Enfield.

The Bullet has broken down repeatedly on our Baja ride. When I’m aboard the 500cc single I never know if I’m going to make it around the next curve. I never know which thump will be the last thump.

And therein lies the Bullet’s appeal: The Bullet needs me. The Bullet needs an experienced rider with an ability to adapt to ever-changing situations. Anyone can ride the new 650 twin.

As this trip has progressed I’ve become more enamored of the Bullet. The Bullet appreciates my attention. It never got any before. I get the feeling that if I died the Bullet would lay atop my gravesite and mourn, not taking gasoline or succor from any others. The bike would lay there and waste away, broken-hearted. Much like how we found it when we rescued the old motorcycle from the dealership that had it chained to a post outside.

We’ve bonded; me and the Bullet are a team. Sure, the Bullet is the weakest member of the team but that just makes me feel like a star player.

And that’s another Bullet attraction: The motorcycle is never better than you are. You don’t feel outclassed or suspect you are leaving untapped performance on the table. What you see is what you get with the Bullet and the more time we spend struggling across the Mexican desert the more I like what I see.

The Bullet in Baja

After a great dinner at a newly discovered restaurant in Guerrero Negro two nights ago (the San Remedio), we started the trek north yesterday. We rode from Guerrero Negro to San Quintin through Guerrero Negro’s coastal plains into the desert, then into the beautiful Catavina boulder fields, and then the Valle de los Cirios mountains. We’re arrived back in the Old Mill Hotel on San Quintin Bay last night.

The San Remedio in Guerrero Negro. It’s tucked away a couple of blocks away from the main street on a dirt road. It was good.
A whale skeleton on the road out of Guerrero Negro.
Joe Gresh on a Baja Bullet.
A photo inside a geodesic dome abandoned in the Catavina boulder fields.
On the road in Baja.

I’ll give you the lowdown on both bikes in more detail in a future blog, but it looks like the bottom line is going to go like this: The 650 Interceptor is an amazingly competent motorcycle, and if Royal Enfield handles the marketing right and somehow manages to keep the dealer freight and setup fees in check, this bike will sell extremely well.  It’s a great value for the money and it’s a good motorcycle, perhaps approaching even the CSC motorcycles in terms of value.

The Bullet has been fun, it’s got tons of character, but our bike has been a disappointment.  Don’t get me wrong: I wanted to like the Bullet. It’s just that this particular sample (a 2016 press bike) was sent to us suffering from a severe case of neglect.  There was almost no oil in the bike, the battery was shot, the chain was rusty, the spark plug lead was defective, probably other things were out of adjustment, and the bike still has a nagging stumble.   Gresh and I have been massaging the Bullet since we left (we repaired the spark plug wire, we removed the kickstand interlock to keep the bike from dying on the open road, we bought and installed a new battery in Guerrero Negro, and we had a few good laughs while doing all of it on the side of the road in Baja).  If the adventure starts when something goes wrong, the Bullet (at least this particular one) is every inch an adventure bike.

Joe Gresh, inflight missile mechanic.

I doubt all Bullets (or even the rest of them) would have performed this poorly and if you own a Bullet, my apologies if what I write here offends you.  I wanted to be positive about both bikes and I really wanted to love the Bullet, but of the two bikes, the one that I would purchase would be the Interceptor and the one I would avoid is the Bullet.   I can handle the vibration and the 72-73 mph top end; I can’t handle the reliability issues.   To be fair, I doubt anyone purchases a Bullet to do Baja, and that’s what our trip is.   But the reality is we are doing a couple of hundred miles a day on asphalt, the weather is moderate, and the Bullet isn’t cutting it.  Like I said above, this particular Bullet just had not been maintained.   The Bullet deserves better, but it didn’t get it.  There.  With that out of the way, let’s get back on the road and continue the trek north.

Whales: They’re Not Just a Hole in The Ground You Draw Water From

Did I ever tell you I’ve been on two boats that sunk? No? Ah well, It’s a story for another blog another day. Bounding out into Guerrero Negro’s bay our low-gunneled pongas were kicking up rainbow waves and a light, salty mist settled over the occupants.

Sensing my worry, Berk assured me that this whale watching tourist business was settled science and I had nothing to worry about. “They must know what they’re doing” he told me.

At first the whales were far in the distance. I was so excited I zoomed my camera way out and started reeling off hundreds of shots. It went that way for a few hours but slowly the whales started to get closer to our boat. Somewhat cautious, then bolder, they came in closer. My zoom lens slowly retracted into its housing.

Still they approached, checking us out like like census workers. I no longer bothered with distant whales as we had plenty within 100 yards of the boat.

Late in the day the whales began to swim under the boat and kept getting bolder until they popped their heads up next to the low gunnel and spouted a fine mist all over the passengers. This we enjoyed way more than you’d think people that had just been sneezed on should enjoy.

The whales started rolling next to the boat, showing a fin here or a tail there. They pushed each other aside trying to receive lovey-dovey petting from passengers. Yes, we petted the whales like they were puppies.

Jaded by so many fantastic photo ops, I wouldn’t bother to lift the camera unless a whale specifically asked for a selfie with me. By name. They were crazy friendly, getting their noses (or where a nose should be) scratched and blowing salt water onto my camera and then feigning surprise, as if it was all a simple mistake.

It was an amazing time to be a whale as they don’t often get to meet two Royal Enfield riders in the same boat. Finally we ceded our private pod to another, less fortunate group of tourists.

The Bullet made it through the day without problems and now that it seems to be fixed Berk and I will swap bikes for the return ride. Wish me luck!

Ballenos!

That word above (ballenos) converts to “whales” and wow, the whale watching in Scammon’s Lagoon today was as good as it gets!

First, a couple of motorcycle beauty shots…the Bullet and the 650 in Guerrero Negro…

…and next, some of the photos from our whale watching expedition earlier today…

At one point, we had four whales up against our little boat, all wanting to be petted like giant puppies.   One even smiled for us…

Joe and I had a great time.

After we returned, we had a couple of fish tacos at good buddy Tony’s Tacos El Muelle, and tonight, we’re trying a new restaurant in Guerrero Negro.   Tomorrow we’re pointing the bikes north as we head back to California, and most likely we’ll stay in the El Rosario/San Quintin area again.

Lawrence of Suburbia.  I love it.  Gresh thinks he’s riding the Bullet tomorrow.   We’ll see…

Guerrero Negro!

Bump bump. Bump bump.

Yesterday was real adventure riding.  They say the adventure starts when…well, you know.  You’ve heard me say it before.   Yesterday answered the mail in that regard.

It started out well and ended even better.   After a great dinner the night before at the Old Mill’s new restaurant, the Eucalipto, it was an early morning start.  I wandered around a bit and took the photo above (that bump-bump thing is the theme from Jaws) and I grabbed few photos as the sun was rising.

Sunrise over San Quintin Bay.

Then it was on the road, headed south, to El Rosario.  We filled up there, because it was an 80-mile haul to Catavina, and then another 110 miles to the next Pemex.

The weather was perfect riding weather, and things were looking good as we entered the Valle de los Cirios.   Then, suddenly:  WHAP!  I got smacked right in the eye by a bug.  Damn, how did that happen?  I had the visor down and I was doing everything the way I was supposed to, but somehow that thing found it’s way in.   And it was hurting.  Ah, it’s all part of the adventure.

We stopped for a grand lunch at the Desert Inn (or whatever they’re calling it this year) in Catavina, topped off our tanks for the trek south, I took my contact lenses out and put on my glasses, and I briefly wondered what I’d look like wearing a black eye patch.  You know, Moshe Dayan style.  My eye was taking on a nice maroon hue.

Refueling in Catavina.
A mural in the Desert Inn.
Uncle Joe enjoying lunch.

The riding was awesome, and the Bullet’s stumbling and missing were pretty much gone.  I felt just a hint of it after long decelerations in a couple of places, but Joe thought that was just because the bike runs so lean.  We stopped for photos in a couple of spots.  It was beautiful and over that 110 mile stretch, we mostly had the road to ourselves.

Somewhere south of Catavina. Those wires in the foreground used to be a tire.
Kilometer 244. That might make a nice title for something.
A Bullet beauty shot.
An Interceptor photo.

As we approached that 110-mile away Pemex, the Bullet’s fuel light came on…no kidding, we were within 100 yards of the gas station.  Timed it perfectly, I thought.  I emptied the spare fuel can I was carrying first, then we filled the Bullet, and then, after buttoning everything up, I pushed the starter button.

Nothing.  Well, a click.   Deader then Julius Caesar.  Damn.

And the rest you read about in Joe’s blog below.  The little Bullet soldiers on.  Now, you might think I’d be a little annoyed about a 3-year-old battery dying, but hey, that’s life.  Three years is a good long time for a battery to last in a bike that shakes a bit, and lord knows I’ve had a few battery failures on other adventure rides (on our Western America Adventure ride, the batteries on half the bikes failed before we reached South Dakota).   It happens.

So we’re in Malarimmo’s hotel, it’s early Sunday morning, and I’m headed out to see the whales in another couple of hours.   More good times, folks!

The Plucky Bullet

Berk was feeling pretty frisky about the Bullet. We had cleaned up a corroded spark plug cap and the big 500cc single was running well.

“You stay on the 650, I like this Bullet and want to try it now that it’s running right.” It took no arm twisting to get me back in the Royal Enfield 650 twin’s seat. I feel supremely comfortable on that bike and you will too if your spine has also recently collapsed from lifting 36,000 pounds of concrete last month. The thing suits my wee, 5-foot 6-inch frame perfectly. Bigger guys may fit the 650 also but I have no way of knowing that sort of shin surgery.

Meanwhile, Berk was was like Lawrence of Suburbia burbling along Baja’s Highway 1 with his Eton tie fluttering in the Bullet’s considerable draft. The guy was having way too much fun racing rag-winged biplanes and organizing Gurkhas. The big 500 single was in top form, pulling steadily and hitting every beat right on time. It got to the point that I thought I was missing out on something good. Like Tom Sawyer painting that picket fence.

And then the battery died. Flat dead, like nowheresville, man.

I recently bought a bunch of those lithium engine starter batteries, the ones about the size of a pack of cigarettes that will jump start an aircraft carrier. I whipped the thing out and Berk was impressed at how the Bullet jumped. Wait…that doesn’t sound right…

Anyway, once running the Bullet stayed running and we made it to Guerrero Negro where we located a slightly-used-but-still-holding-a-charge battery. The poles on the used battery were reversed and the case was a little bigger than the stock battery so we had to do a bit of ham-fisted metal rearranging to get the battery to fit inside the Bullet’s box. It’s not pretty but the bike starts fine now. The stock battery side cover won’t fit over the larger battery and we debated tossing it into the weeds but decided Royal Enfield wouldn’t find it so funny. We buried that part in our luggage.

With wires dangling and the larger battery hanging out the left side of the frame our Bullet is looking more like a BMW adventure bike everyday. If we wrapped 75 feet of 3/4 inch electrical conduit around the Bullet you’d swear it was a GS1200. Despite the troubles the thing is growing on us. Really, none of the faults are due to Royal Enfield assemblies.

In fact, each time we get the Bullet back on the road I like the thing better. It’s plucky, it’s a never-say-die-motorcycle in a British stiff upper lip, we keep our side of Gibraltar’s door knob polished, way. You know what I mean?

That’s it for now. Tomorrow we are going to see the whales, which in Spanish translates to “I’m going to ruin another expensive camera on a rickety boat out in the ocean.”

Royal Enfield 650cc Twin: First Real Ride

I finally spent some quality time on the Royal Enfield 650 today. We rode from Tecate to San Quintin, Mexico through the Ruta del Vin0 and Ensenada. My initial impressions have been reinforced. Royal Enfield nailed it with the 650 twin.

The bike scoots along feeling fresh and light all day. In top gear 4000-ish RPM moved the bike along at 60 miles per hour, 4600-ish was 70 miles per hour and 80 miles per hour saw the steady tach needle planted at 5000 RPM give or take a few.

I don’t know what RE claims for horse power but sitting bolt upright and letting the thing rip led to a 7500 rev-limited RPM @ 115 miles per hour (indicated) in 5th gear while 6th gear topped out around 110 MPH at lower revs (7000? I was too busy to get the exact number).

Unlike an old, torsion-bar Honda 450 twin that would rev high but never seemed to enjoy it, the Royal Enfield 650 twin loves to rev and it feels like the 7500 RPM rev limit could easily be exceeded by another 1500-2000 rpm before any self induced porting restrictions came into play. There must be a wire that needs cutting somewhere.

All in, this bike is plenty fast for me as I don’t plan to do street racing anymore. I’m too mature for that crap.

The Meteor (I’m trying to get RE to rename the bike) ) 650’s transmission shifted crisply all day long and in heavy stop and go traffic it didn’t get crotchety. 5th and 6th gear are close enough that I found myself sometimes running a gear down at cruising speed. The engine is so smooth and quiet it’s best to give the lever an additional tug, you may have another gear to go.

Pulling in the clutch started to feel a little sticky, kind of segmented, so I gave the pivot to cable connection a squirt of lube and the lever was smooth again.

The bike has ABS brakes and the front lever needs a strong pull to get maximum stoppage. There’s only one disc but for me it stopped well enough. If you’re the kind of rider that enjoys standing a bike in its nose you may want a bit more front brake. The rear brake must be ok because I never noticed it.

After a full day of riding the Royal Enfield 650 twin has done nothing to diminish my initial enthusiasm. It looks so good and really runs great. It’s shocking that the same company that builds the retro Bullet made such a sweet machine. This is a cool bike, make no mistake.