I was in the tiny town of Omarama, New Zealand, having coffee and trying to wake up enough to plan the day. I was under an hour and a half away from the Hooker Trail, which I learned just a day or so ago was not too far off my original route. The Hooker Trail was one of those that I kept seeing and hearing about in any conversation about the North Island. I normally avoid touristy places as much as possible. One of my many travel mantras is “If I run into another American I have failed.” That’s because most Americans stay on the beaten path and rarely venture off. The venturing off seems to be my happy place.
As I finished my coffee and began to put my gear back on for the ride to the Hooker Trail, I fueled up since it New Zealand was pretty devoid of towns for the next couple hundred miles, which is perfect for riding. I was expecting Mount Cook would be similar to the other areas of New Zealand and was preparing to view a miniature copy of say, Mt. Hood. The previous day (although incredible and diverse) was like a 70% replica of the western United States with a sprinkling of British Columbia thrown in. Yes, I am extremely spoiled in my perspectives of motorcycle roads. I understand this.
It didn’t take long after leaving the coffee shop before low level clouds consumed me and the road. I had just gone through a similar area and noticed when I gained some elevation it cleared up. I remained optimistic as I strained to see anything in front of me. The attempt to hike the Hooker Trail surely would be in vain if it continued to stay this way, as I have heard it often does up in the s, outhern Alps of New Zealand.
Fortunately, this wasn’t the case. Once I hit Lake Pukaki, I had obtained enough elevation to where the clouds were below me. Lake Pukaki than came into full view and it was stunning. The neon green water contrasted with the brown mountains surrounding the lake, and it became all I could see. The colors were so overwhelmingly bright I had to pull over several times not only to take the views in but allow my eyes to adjust from the drab cloudbank that had me engulfed over the previous hour.
After another 30 minutes of riding along this other-worldly lake I could see Mount Cook was getting close and I was excited to finally hike the Hooker Trail. As I entered the parking lot around noon, I noticed how crowded it was. There was hardly any parking (at least for cars). I found a perfect spot for Massie right up front next to the trail head and swapped out my riding outfit for hiking gear.
This was it: The Hooker Trail. It wasn’t too long, only around 6 miles round trip. Once I began hiking I understood why I had kept hearing about it in my travels and when reading random blogs and posts. It was super-crowded. The hike was beautiful. Around each corner was a new view of either glacial lakes or views of Mount Cook towering above. The trail ended at a glacial lake with a beach that was perfect for a quick swim. It was mid-afternoon and it was warming up quite nicely.
Massie she was parked right where I had left her and ready to blast out our final few hours to the hostel on the edge of Lake Tekapo. The trip had taken me through what felt like a whirlwind of geographical features. There’s no question that that the roads, people, and environment in New Zealand are a dream for anyone (especially a motorcyclist). As I cracked open a cold Kea IPA on the lakeshore a sense of satisfaction came over me. I could now add New Zealand to the growing list of countries I where have motorcycled. The memories of this trip will help me pass the time while on the long flight to my next destination. Cheers New Zealand!
It was well after 6:00 p.m. and I was starting to hit my wall for riding. My goal was to travel to this campground I stumbled upon on Google which was about 5 miles down a dirt road which had some decent reviews. The rental company mentioned no off-roading as Massie had street tires. I zoomed in on the map and saw “Linda Road,” so I technically was not off-roading. Check!
The road was a very tame forest service road with the occasional “Traffic Lamb,” as quite frequently there were herds of sheep and they would part like the Red Sea as they heard Massie’s engine roar grow closer (you can send hate mail for that joke to Joe Berk).
Once I neared the campsite I noticed a couple of old rundown stone buildings (from who knows how long ago) and a few van lifers dispersed around a large field. This was a really cool spot! Not only that, but you had views for miles of the sun beginning to set over the brown grassy mountains that surrounded the location. This was Linda’s Camp. It was an old short term gold mining operation from the 1860s, which switched hands a few times before finally being abandoned in the 1950s. This was an amazing place to camp and it was far off the grid. I didn’t even have cell service.
After setting up my tent I struck up a conversation with an old gold miner. He was living in his van there and spent his days panning for gold off a nearby river with minimal luck. He got a good laugh from my story about getting the boot from the coffee shop earlier that day for drying my gear there. The rest of the evening was spent exploring the hotel ruins and a short hike up the mountain to watch the sunset. It was one of those moments where I really was able to relax, breathe, and just be in the present. It was a long but rewarding day and I thought having an early night was in order. It would be another long day tomorrow to include the Hooker Trail hike, which I was greatly looking forward to.
Waking up in yet another serene location with Massie sitting just outside the tent was another perfect kickoff to this new day. Since it was still pretty early, after packing I thought pushing the bike out of the camping area was the proper thing to do to avoid waking any of the van lifers (or the gold miner).
Once well outside the perimeter I went to start the bike. Nothing happened. Shit. The battery was somehow dead. I took the panniers off and attempted to manually jump start it off a small incline. No good. It wasn’t starting. Well, I thought, it was not so funny breaking that “stay on the road rule” now, was it? I had no cell signal either. As I sat down weighing my options (none of which none were good) I heard a couple of pots banging together. The old gold miner was up. I walked over and asked if he had jumpers, and he did! Sure enough, the bike fired right up with his help. Okay, cool I can still make the Hooker Trail even if I am an hour behind schedule. And, the rental company would never know I was off road.
Once I was back on the main road and well on my way, the need for coffee hit me. I pulled into a rest area to see if there was a cell signal to guide me to a coffee shop. There was a cell signal, and there was a coffee shop not too far away. I pulled out and began racing the Linda Pass switchbacks when suddenly all I saw was a huge yellow Scania 18-wheeler coming head on at me. Why was he in my lane? SHIT! I was on the wrong side of the road! In my morning fog, and my distraction from the battery issue I zoned out and drove on the right side of the road. Even with a giant yellow arrow on Massie’s dash as a constant reminder, I somehow ignored the fact that they drive on the wrong side in New Zealand. I didn’t have much time to react and managed to skirt along not so much of a shoulder, but a strip of grass as the truck blasted by me.
That was close. I really didn’t need any coffee after that wakeup call, but what I did need was a moment to get my head back in the game (especially if I was to complete the Hooker Trail and find a campsite). Due to Massie’s moody electrical system, tonight’s campsite would need to be near a town with a strong cell signal. It was still early and my confidence was high. I knew I would satisfy both objectives.
There are certainly worse places to wake up. I opened my eyes facing a beautiful mountain lake with loud wekas clumsily hunting for food in the brush next to my tent. Without my cooking gear it took me just about 20 minutes to pack up and load Massie, the BMW GS750 for what would be a full day of riding. As I was packing up I was already craving a coffee and a meat pie for breakfast. While stuffing my gear in the panniers I noticed how wet everything was from the dew and being so close to the lake. The sun was out though, so I thought after an hour or so of riding I would dry it out as I ate breakfast.
Riding to breakfast took a bit longer than expected and the one hour turned to three. Not that big of a deal as the sun was fully out now and would allow for my gear to dry while I researched my route and stops for the day. As I pulled into a coffee shop in a small town along my route the waitress stated how it would be a while for my food and coffee. This was my queue to unpack my wet gear and lay it out to dry while I was researching maps and things to do for the day.
During my wait several people introduced themselves and we had some fun conversations about my gear and riding. It was a great environment, or so I thought. After about 20 minutes my coffee and food arrived and I was told that maybe I should take it to go and it was time to pack up my gear. I guess they didn’t like the look of my tent and equipment drying and sprawled out all over their front porch. Which I sort of get, even though many of the clientele had been chatting me up. I apologized and, well, it took me about as long to pack up that gear as it did for them to bring my coffee (it happened to be fully dry by the time it was packed). I found it a bit rude, but I understood that having my gear everywhere could be viewed as a bit of a mess. It was time to get going, anyway, as I had a long day ahead.
During my minimal research and planning at the coffee shop I discovered this one hike that I continually heard about from others. It was the Mount Cook Hooker Trail. The hike wasn’t too long, and it had an incredible view at the end. This was only a couple hours off my planned route. Adding that hike meant I would have to have a long day and miss a lot of stops that tourists hit, such as the Franz and Fox Glaciers and hikes along that area. I decided to prioritize the Hooker Trail and skip the glaciers and other coastal hikes. Having made this decision meant a 350-mile day. Which to me didn’t seem like a lot, but the roads were tight and windy, which I thoroughly enjoyed, probably too much as I used the long day as a reason to really wear the edges of the tires in.
After close to 10 hours of aggressive riding through what I felt was like a mini version of the Western United States and British Columbia, I arrived where I thought would camp for the evening, just outside a city called Wanaka. However, the “campground” resembled something of a tent city I would expect to find under Interstate 5 in Seattle. That made it a hard pass for me. I did have a second option, but it was another 45 minutes north and if it didn’t work out, I would be in a tight position as the day was beginning to wear on me. I decided to shoot for it and hope for the best. What I found was far more than I expected and maybe one of the coolest places I ever moto camped.
Zongshen ended production of its iconic RX3 motorcycle and CSC sold the last of its RX3 inventory. I was tangentially involved in bringing the RX3 to America and I had a ton of fun on that motorcycle. Knowing that the RX3 is no longer in production is like hearing an old friend has passed away. In the end, the S-curve prevails for all of us, I guess. But it still hurts. The RX3 was and still is a great motorcycle.
An early clay mockup of what would become the RX3 in Zongshen’s Advanced Design center.
According to my sources in Chongqing, Zongshen first started thinking about a 250cc offroad and adventure touring motorcycle in 2010. Engineering development took about two years (excluding the engine). China’s initial and traditional 250cc was based on a Honda CG125 air-cooled engine, which evolved into 150cc, 200cc, and 250cc variants (the 250cc CG engine was actually 223cc; it is the engine that powers CSC’s current TT 250). The CG-based variants didn’t have the performance Zongshen wanted for its new adventure touring motorcycle, and that led Zongshen to develop a 250cc water-cooled, four-valve engine for Megelli in Italy. It went into the Zongshen NC250 motorcycle. This engine also went into the RX3.
Yours truly with former Sears president and CSC advisor Carl Mungenast on Glendora Ridge Road. I rode the CSC 150 Mustang replica in this photo to Cabo San Lucas and back.
For CSC, the Zongshen connection started with a search for a larger CSC 150 engine. The CSC 150 was the Mustang replica Steve Seidner designed and manufactured in 2009. I was already in China for another client, and it was only an hour flight from Guangzhou to Chonqging for the initial visit to Zongshen. To make a long story slightly less long, CSC started purchasing the Zongshen 250cc engines for the little Mustangs. I think most of the folks who bought those Mustangs really didn’t care if it was a 150 or a 250. Both were capable bikes; my friends and I rode the 150cc version to Cabo and back. It was the 250cc Mustang engine that established the relationship between CSC and Zongshen, though, and that was a good thing.
When CSC’s Steve Seidner noticed an illustration of the RX3 on the Zongshen website, he immediately recognized the RX3 sales potential in the United States. Steve ordered three bikes for evaluation and he started the U.S. certification process. Steve and I did a 350-mile ride on two of those bikes through the southern California desert and we both thought they were great.
Showing the Zongshen execs in Chongqing possibilities for a ride in America. The Chinese sponsored the Western America Adventure Ride as a result of that discussion. It was awesome and the bikes performed magnificently.
Zongshen was not targeting the U.S. market when they developed the RX3; they thought the U.S. market had different requirements and consumer preferences. The initial RX3 design did not meet U.S. Department of Transportation lighting and other requirements. It was back to China for me to help set up the specs for the CSC RX3 and the initial order.
On the Western America Adventure Ride, we rode from southern California to Mt. Rushmore, back to the Pacific across the top of America, and down the Pacific Coast to return to Azusa. Here King Kong, Leonard, Hugo, and Tso emulate the American presidents at Mt. Rushmore.
On that early visit, the Chinese told me they wanted to ride in America. They sent over a dozen bikes and as many riders, and we had an amazing 5,000-mile adventure we called the Western America Adventure Ride. Baja John planned the itinerary and mapped out the entire ride; we even had special decals with our route outlined made up for the bikes. We let the media know about it and it was on this ride that I first met Joe Gresh, who wrote the “Cranked” column for Motorcyclist magazine. I made a lot of good friends on that trip. After the trip through the American Southwest, Zongshen invited Gresh and me on a ride around China, and after that, I was invited by AKT on a ride through the Andes Mountains in Colombia.
In Medicine Bow, Wyoming, on the Western America Adventure Ride. Two Colombians also participated, which resulted in an invitation to ride in Colombia.On the road in the Andes Mountains. The sign says the elevation is 3950 meters (that’s 13,000 feet above sea level).Joe Gresh and I gladiating near Liqian, China. The China ride was the adventure of a lifetime.
At CSC, we had a lot of discussions on the initial marketing approach. We were looking at a $50,000 to $100,000 hit for an advertising campaign. Maureen Seidner, the chief marketing strategist for CSC and co-owner with Steve, had a better idea: Sell the bikes at a loss initially, get them out in the market, and let the word spread naturally. We knew the price would stabilize somewhere above $4K; Steve’s concept was to sell the bike for $2995. Maureen had an even better idea. $2995 sounded like we were just futzing the number to get it below $3K; Maureen said let’s make it $2895 for the first shipment instead. I wrote a CSC blog about the RX3 and CSC’s plans to import the bike. When I hit the Publish button on WordPress for that blog, the phone rang literally two minutes later and I took the first order from a guy in Alaska. Sales took off with CSC’s introductory “Don’t Miss The Boat” marketing program.
I wrote another CSC blog a week later saying that I was eager to get my RX3 and ride it through Baja. I thought then (and I still think now) that the RX3 is the perfect bike for Baja. The bike does 80mph, it gets 70mpg, it has a 4-gallon gas tank, and everything you needed on an ADV touring machine was already there: A skid plate, good range, good speeds, a six-speed gearbox, a comfortable ride, the ability to ride on dirt roads, panniers, a top case, and more. We started getting calls from folks wanting to ride with me in Baja, and the orders continued to pile in. That resulted in our doing an annual run through Baja for RX3 owners. We didn’t charge anything for the Baja trips. It was a hell of a deal that continued for the next four or five years. I had a lot of fun on those trips and we sold a lot of bikes as a result.
The Western America Adventure Riders in Arizona. This photo is prominently displayed in the Zongshen main office building lobby. That’s Baja John in front; he did nearly all the work organizing the ride.
CSC’s enthusiasm surrounding the RX3, the CSC company rides, and CSC’s online presence did a lot to promote the RX3 worldwide, and I know Zongshen recognized that. I visited the Zongshen campus in Chongqing several times. One of the best parts of any Zongshen visit for me was entering their headquarters, where a 10-foot-wide photo of the Western America Adventure Ride participants in Arizona’s red rock country dominated the lobby.
The RX3 was controversial for some. RX3 owners loved the bike. A few others found reasons to hate it, mostly centering around the engine size and the fact that the bike came from China. I spent a lot of time responding to negative Internet comments until I realized that the haters were broken people, there was no reasoning with them, and none were ever actually going to buy the motorcycle anyway. These were people who got their rocks off by throwing rocks at others.
When RX3 production ended recently, I contacted one of my friends at Zongshen and I thought you might enjoy some of what he told me. Zongshen sold 74,100 RX3 motorcycles (35,000 in China; the rest went to other countries including Mexico, Colombia, other South American countries, Singapore, Turkey, and the United States). Colombia alone purchased 6000 units in kit form and assembled their bikes in Medellin. I watched RX3 motorcycles being built in the Zongshen plant in Chongqing; I was also in the AKT factory in Colombia and I saw the RS3 (the carbureted version of the RX3) being built there. Ultimately, RX3 demand dropped off, but 74,100 motorcycles is not a number to sneeze at. The RX3 greatly exceeded Zongshen’s expectations and their initial marketing forecasts, especially in overseas markets. CSC had a lot to do with that success, and playing a minor role in that endeavor has been one of the high points of my life.
The CSC 650cc RX6 twin cylinder motorcycle. The Chinese motorcycle industry is moving to larger displacement bikes.
Chinese motorcycle companies today are emphasizing larger bikes. We’ve seen that here with the CSC RX4, the 400cc twins, and the 650cc RX6. I’ve ridden all those bikes and they are great. I like larger bikes, but I still think a 250cc motorcycle is the perfect size for real world adventure riding. I think the emphasis on larger bikes and the decision to drop the RX3 is a mistake, but I haven’t sold millions of motorcycles (and Zongshen, with CSC’s help, has).
That photo you see above at the top of this blog? It’s good buddy Orlando and his wife Velma riding their RX3 up to Dante’s View in Death Valley National Park. Orlando thinks blue is the fastest color, but I know orange is. Sue and I recently visited Death Valley again; watch for the ride reports here on the ExNotes blog.
We’ve had a string of cool days here in California (cool for us, anyway, with temperatures in the high 40s and low 50s) and when it gets cold, I really enjoy a bowl of chili. I suppose the easy thing to do would be to head over to a restaurant and order up a bowl, but with restaurant prices verging on the ridiculous lately, I only visit restaurants when I’m traveling. Sue and I usually prefer to cook at home. The cost is way less and the food is better.
One of my buddies mentioned a good pot of chili he ginned up and I asked for his recipe. A few days later when I was in Trader Joe’s, I saw the shaved beef my friend told me he used in his chili. I was about to put it in my cart when I thought I really didn’t want to put that in my body. Then an idea hit me: Vegetarian chili. I’ve had some good ones but I had never made vegetarian chili before. I quickly Googled vegetarian chili recipes on my cell phone, mentally merged the ingredients that appealed to me, and I picked those up instead.
I do a lot of my cooking in a crock pot. I like the idea of getting all the work out of the way in the morning and letting the brew simmer all day long. The aromas are always great, and my vegetarian chili was no exception. crock pots are cheap, too. They are an easy way to prepare a great meal.
Here’s my recipe for what turned out to be a great vegetarian chili:
1 chopped medium yellow onion
1 chopped red bell pepper
1 cup of shredded carrots
3 cloves of minced garlic
1 15.5 ounce can of can pinto beans
1 15.5 ounce can of black beans
1 15.5 ounce can of kidney beans
1 28 ounce can of fire roasted tomatoes
3 cups of low-sodium vegetable broth
2 tablespoons of chili powder
1 tablespoon of ground cumin
2 teaspoons of dried oregano
1 tablespoon of extra-virgin olive oil
I drain and rinse three different kinds of beans before adding them to the pot. After everything is in the pot, I mix it up a bit with a big wooden spoon and then put the pot on the low heat setting. Eight hours later, it’s ready.
The bottom line? It was delicious.
Pro tips:
I always use the San Marzano brand for any recipe calling for canned tomatoes (they have the best flavor).
All the vegetarian chili recipes called for adding salt. I don’t. There’s enough salt in the canned beans and fire roasted tomatoes.
When serving our chili, we add a scoop of sour cream and shredded cheddar cheese.
Most chili recipes call for a jalapeno pepper or red chili flakes. You might want to consider that if you like your chili spicy. The recipe included here makes a tasty dish and the flavors don’t compete with the heat from a jalapeno or red chili. The two tablespoons of chili seasoning alone are just about perfect for a modest amount of spiciness.
What I’ve found with any crock pot recipe is that the time doesn’t have to be exact, and 8 hours is a minimum time. If it goes another couple of hours, it’s no big deal.
The sizes on the ingredients listed above make for a full pot; Sue and I will get four or five meals (each) out of this recipe. I’ve found that chili makes for a good omelet, too.
Kim from South Pacific Motorcycles had just picked me up at my hostel in downtown Christchurch, New Zealand and we were off to meet my new steed for the week. It was a BMW GS750 named “Massie.” Even with my lack of planning, somehow the Universe decided I needed to get back on a motorcycle and I was fortunate enough to snag the last one available for the dates I was in town. The stars couldn’t have aligned any better.
Kim and I exchanged ideas on routes and agreed the one I had lazily researched would be a great one, but it might result in some long riding days. I would have to forego some hikes and tourist attractions that were on my list. It was a loop that would take me over three unique mountain passes, and allow me to see two glaciers and cruise along ocean roads. It would be a full riding trip with not much time for hikes and other tourist stops. This was fine with me as I was itching to ride again. Also, I had enough time remaining in country that if anything appealed to me, I could always return via bus or rental car.
The weather was a perfect 70 degrees F and I was ready to hit the switchbacks as I raced towards Arthur’s Pass National Park. The roads were pretty solid going through this area. It was just exhilarating to be riding again (and in another country at that). I was so caught up in the moment that I forgot to top off on fuel prior to heading into the mountains.
Upon hitting the first town after completing Arthur’s Pass, Massie’s fuel level read a mere 18km remaining (a rookie mistake by me). Once the bike was topped off I sat under the gas station’s awning to figure out where I would be staying that evening. The rental company recommended staying in Holiday Parks. These were similar to the KOAs that we have in the United States.
I cannot stand KOAs. Unless I was in a pinch that would not be my plan for the evening. Camping in New Zealand is different from the United States in that many areas are called “freedom camping,” but in order to stay there you had to have a self-contained vehicle sticker. To obtain the sticker the vehicle must undergo a rigorous inspection process to ensure the vehicle has a toilet in it. So Freedom Camping was obviously out of the question.
Hunting down campsites wasn’t anything new for me. It didn’t take me long to remember that on the North Island I had camped in DOC (Department of Conservation) campsites. These campsites could be quite primitive but they have toilets, which meant I didn’t need a sticker. I found them in really beautiful areas and at a cost of just $15 NZD ($10 USD) they met all my requirements for a peaceful night of camping.
The campsite was perfect. It was next to a beautiful lake with plenty of weka birds that would walk right up to you and hang out for a bit. It had been a short day but it was the perfect length to get used to the bike, chat with a few other riders, and get back into camping off a motorcycle. I was back in my natural environment and decided to call it an early night. I knew the next day I would have to put some serious mileage behind me if I was to complete this loop.
Some time ago, I wrote a blog about panda watches. In it, I mentioned the Orient Panda. I’ve been wearing one for several months now and I thought I’d share my opinions.
From an accuracy perspective, it just doesn’t get much better than what this Orient provides. I set it to the U.S. National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) official time site, and it is still spot on after several months (no gain, no loss; it is accurate to the second). The watch has a solar-powered quartz movement; you can’t realize that kind of accuracy with a mechanical watch.
I didn’t care for the Orient Panda’s stainless steel bracelet. The bracelet’s appearance is good and the construction appears to be of high quality, but it was uncomfortable. Maybe that was due to the bracelet’s relatively sharp edges. I played around with the adjustment by removing links and then putting them back in, and also by moving the pin to different positions on the clasp, but I couldn’t get it to fit my wrist comfortably. It was either too tight (which made it even more uncomfortable), or it would swim around on my wrist with the watch going from the top of my wrist to the opposite side (I hate it when a watch does that).
Orient and Breitling Pandas. The Orient is $160; the Breitling sells for $7,300. For me, it was an easy decision.
I addressed the fit and comfort issues by ordering an inexpensive alligator style leather band from Strapsco (it was less than $20). The band is black with white leather stitching, and when I put it on the Orient, the watch’s personality changed completely (and for the better). The band matches the watch perfectly and it is much more comfortable. I think it looks much richer (it’s very similar to the $7,300 Breitling Panda mentioned in my earlier blog). I think Orient may be missing the boat here; the Orient Panda should ship with both bands.
The Orient’s solar power feature doesn’t need the sun; interior lighting is good enough. I’ve left my Orient Panda unworn for weeks on a shelf in my office and my office light kept it going. I like the idea that the watch won’t die in the middle of an overseas adventure because the battery gives out. That’s happened to me before.
The Orient Panda can be had in three different colors. I like the one on the left best.
Although I love the panda concept and look, on the Orient Panda the contrast between the hands and the watch face doesn’t work for me. The hands should stand out so that the time is apparent at a glance. It is not on this watch. Maybe me being an old fart is aggravating the issue. I have to stare at the watch to see the hands against the watch face. The hands should be black, I think, as was the case on my 1970s-era Seiko Panda. Maybe the Orient colors will work for you. Orient offers this watch in three different colors, but I don’t care for the look of the other two. Interestingly, the Orient Panda with the gray face is only $135 on Amazon, undercutting the price on the other Orient Panda color options by $25.
The Orient Panda has bits of lume on the numbers and the hands. The lume is small, though, and like me, they are not terribly bright. I found the lume tough to see at night. It’s also tough to determine where 12:00 on the watch face is at night.
The Orient Panda has a date feature. I’ll chalk this observation up to being a geezer: I found the date to be so small it was useless. Plus, the date is set back from the watch face, which throws a shadow over the numerals (further obscuring the date).
The Orient Panda has three subdials, which I think is one too many. Like many over-subdialed watches, the 24-hour subdial is a dumb thing. I think I can tell the difference between night and day, I know when it’s a.m. and when it’s p.m., and I can do the mental math instantly to convert 2:00 p.m. is 14:00 hours (I don’t need a subdial for this). If Orient had made the subdial hours settable in hourly increments independent of the main dial’s hourly settings, that would be a cool GMT feature that would allow knowing the time in two different time zones. But like every other watchmaker that includes a 24-hour subdial, you can’t set the subdial separately, so to me all it does is add complexity where none is required.
With regard to the chronograph feature, there is a smaller subdial at the 6:00 position that tracks up to 60 minutes, and seconds are recorded with the watch’s main face second hand. That approach is okay, I suppose, but the second hand really disappears against the watch face due to the aforementioned lack of contrast, and the 0-60 minute subdial is too small. I think Orient would have a better product if they eliminated the 24-hour subdial at the 3:00 position and used that real estate for a larger subdial for the chronograph’s 0-60 minute feature. That would knock the Orient Panda down to two subdials, which I think is just right for a panda watch. It would look more like a panda. But hey, what do I know? Orient sells a lot of watches. I don’t sell any.
At an Amazon price of $160.84, the price on the Orient Panda is impressive, especially when viewed alongside the $7300 Breitling Panda. My complaints notwithstanding, the Orient Panda is a beautiful timepiece at an affordable price. It is both a nice piece of jewelry and a usable everyday watch.
I visited with my sister a couple of weeks ago and she gave me four 35mm film cameras. You know, the ones we used to use before everything went digital. One was a point and shoot Minolta, another was a Chinese copy of a Minolta single lens reflex non-autofocus camera, another was my Dad’s old Honeywell Pentax ES (with four Takumar lenses that were known as some of the best glass available back in the 1960s and 1970s), and a fourth was my old Nikon N70, complete with a Tamron 28-105mm zoom lens. I had given the N70 to my sister when I bought a Nikon F5, which was a huge top-of-the-line film camera when film ruled the roost. The N70 made the full circle, coming back to me again after being gone for more than 20 years. The N70 is the focus (pardon the pun) of this blog.
The N70 and it’s Tamron 28-105 zoom lens. I can use some of my other Nikon digital camera lenses on the N70, too.
The N70 was the second camera I ever purchased. The first was a 35mm Minolta X700 that I bought a week before my first daughter was born because my wife told me I needed a camera to record the occasion. I bought the Minolta because it was what the store (a large Fedco, which is no more) sold and everything was automatic (except for focusing, which no one offered at the time). And, it was what my brother-in-law shot (he was a photography enthusiast, so I figured it had to be good). The Minolta was a far better camera than I was a photographer, but I really wasn’t getting the eye-popping photos I saw in the photography magazines (and I did a lot of my learning through magazines; there was no internet in those days).
The N70 had what Nikon called a command dial. It wasn’t well received in the market back then. I’ll have to relearn how to use it. It was one of the first film cameras to have an LCD screen interface, a common feature on today’s digital cameras.
Nope, in those days, my Minolta was a manual focus camera, and I figured what I really needed was autofocus. The ticket in for me was the Nikon N70 (the very one you see here) sold to me by a very competent young salesman at our local Ritz camera store. It used to be that every major shopping mall had a Ritz camera store; with the advent of the internet, they’ve all disappeared, too.
I didn’t know very much about photography back then, but autofocus really made things better. My pictures (all print, of course) were turning out great. I liked the reaction my little 4×6 prints were getting at family dinners, and I started reading more and more about the art of photography. You know, all the stuff the camera did automatically. Apertures. Shutter speeds. Different ISOs. How to use the flash, even in daylight. And then I learned more. Composition. The rule of thirds. Lighting. The more I learned, the more I shot, and the more I shot, the better my photos became. Then a funny thing happened. I went back to my old Minolta (without autofocus) and my photos with it were way better, too. Who would have thought?
The world continued to change. Ebay became a thing, and so did digital photography. I resisted digital photography, partly because I am a cheap SOB and partly because I thought I was a purist. Until I tried digital. The difference was incredible. I sold all of my film cameras and the lenses that went with them.
With my sister’s generosity and my newly-rehomed collection of four film cameras, though, I am regressing and I hope to soon be rediscovering the wonders of film photography. Or going back to my roots. Or becoming more traditional. You can choose the words you like.
Nikon didn’t do an adequate job selecting the rear camera door rubberized covering. As it aged, it turned to a sticky, gooey mess.Where the film goes. The N70 didn’t require threading the film in. Simply plop the film in the camera with about three inches pulled out of the canister, close the camera back, press the shutter button, and the film feeds in automatically. It advances automatically after each shot (a cool feature 30+ years ago).
Anyway, the topic du jour is my N70. I just ordered a few rolls of Fuji ISO 200 film for it from Amazon, and I’ll put the old Nikon through its paces when the film gets here. When I picked up the N70 from my sister, I thought she had spilled something gooey on the back cover because it was all sticky. But it wasn’t her doing. I did a Google search and it was a common complaint. Apparently Nikon had applied a rubber-like material on the cover, which degraded over time. I had that happen on a Bell motorcycle helmet one time (a shame, really; I loved the artwork on that helmet). One of the guys who wrote about the Nikon N70’s gooification issue said that the rubber goo came off with alcohol, so I’ll try that on mine.
The Nikon feels good in my hands (the gooey cover notwithstanding). I packed it on a lot of motorcycle rides, including the Three Flags Classic nearly 20 years ago. Handling it is like coming home to an old friend. Watch for my photos with the N70; I’ll post them in a future blog (if I can find a place that still develops 35mm film).
This is another one of those blogs that almost had another title. I considered simply calling it The P11. Hey, if you know, you know. And I know. So does Andrew.
Sue and I were on the East Coast last week (as in literally on the East Coast when we stopped for lunch in Point Pleasant, New Jersey) when I gave my buddy Andrew a call. Andrew is the guy who runs British Motorcycle Gear, a company whose ads grace these pages. You’ve also read reviews by Joe Gresh on some of the top quality gear Andrew offers, including Rapido gloves, the Mercury jacket, and the BMG Adventure motorcycle pants.
Andrew is a true Anglophile (a lover of all things British), although like me, he grew up in the Garden State. We had a nice visit in Andrew’s beautiful home, and then he took us into his garage to see the toys. I was blown away, not just by the motorcycles Andrew parks in his garage, but at how closely they tracked with my list of highly desireable motorcycles.
Andrew’s Norton P11. It’s awesome.No one has ever outdone Norton when it comes to fuel tank style. Triumph comes close. So did Harley in the ’30s, ’40s, and ’50s. This tank is perfect. And those exhaust pipes!
One that caught my eye instantly was a Norton P11. That was the ultimate hot rod motorcycle in the 1960s. Norton shoehorned their 750cc engine into a 500cc Matchless desert sled frame. When I was a teenager, the word on the street was that nothing was faster than a Norton P11. Norton only made a very few of these motorcycles (I think the production total was less than 2500). Truth be told, Andrew’s P11 is the first one I’ve ever seen in person, but I knew what it was as soon as I saw it. It’s parked on the other side of the garage, and my eye skimmed over a bunch of motoexotica when I saw the P11. Man, I would love to own that motorcycle. I don’t necessarily need to ride it; I would just look at it and keep it immaculate. Which, incidentally, is the condition in which I found all of Andrew’s motorcycles.
A late ’60s Triumph Bonneville. How could these guys have been overtaken by Japan?
There was a silver and burgundy 1968 Triumph Bonneville that looks like it rolled out of the Coventry plant yesterday morning. Andrew told me that the Bonneville is sold. Not to me, unfortunately. It’s another I’ve love to own.
Andrew with a few of his rides. Check out the Honda GB500 just behind the Daytona. Just 535 miles! That’s an MV Augusta behind it.
Andrew has a Triumph Daytona, and it’s the rare one…the 900cc triple with a bunch of goodies (think triple caliper disks up front, carbon fiber front fender, and other similar go fast and stop fast bits). It is bright yellow (Triumph called it Daytona yellow), just like the Daytona 1200 I owned about a decade ago. But my Daytona was but a mere commoner’s motorcycle. Andrew’s Daytona is the limited-edition version. Like the P11 Norton mentioned above, it’s the first one I’ve ever seen. I live in southern California; I’ve been to a bunch of moto hangouts (like the Rock Store in Malibu) and numerous Britbike events (for example, the Hansen Dam Norton get-togethers). I’ve seen Jay Leno, I’ve seen pristine vintage Indians (real ones, not the current production stuff), I’ve seen four-cylinder Hendersons, and I’ve laid these eyeballs on other similar exotics. But I’ve never seen a limited-edition Daytona Super III or a P11 in person until I visited Andrew.
Another one of Andrew’s bikes that caught my eye was a near-new-old-stock Honda GB500. It has to be one of the most beautiful motorcycles ever made. Honda offered these 500cc singles in the mid 1980s. It was a modern nod to (and refined version of) the British Velocette. They flopped from a sales perspective back then, but that’s only because of our unrefined palate and our then-fascination with conchos, wide whitewalls , and beer bellies (think potato-potato-potato exhaust notes and you’ll catch my drift). Like a lot of things, I should have bought a GB500 back then. Andrew’s GB500 is literally in like new condition. It has 535 original miles on the odometer.
A BMW…and more Triumphs.
There was more…a modern Triumph Thruxton, another modern Triumph, even a Lotus Elise sports car. My eye, though, kept returning to the Norton P11. It really is a visually arresting motorcycle.
At the conclusion of our visit, I asked Andrew if he would consider adopting me. Everyone enjoyed a good laugh about that. They all thought I was kidding. But I wasn’t.
Just to preface this blog, I am not too much of a political person. For me, the current political scene is an ongoing series of Melrose Place episodes that play out in the background as entertainment. I really don’t give it too much thought otherwise. For others it seems to be deeply rooted in them to be for one side or the other, even at times they switch sides like when Macho Man became a bad guy in the WWF. At any rate, I wanted to state that prior to this write up. Enjoy!
In 2016 I found myself dating a girl I had met on Day 1 in boot camp at Fort Jackson, SC. Soldiers were still segregated then between male and female, except on KP. We hit it off and dated for a bit in Fort Gordon, GA as we were both communication specialists. That faded as I was shipped off to Korea for a year and we lost contact. Fast forward 23 years or so and we happened to reconnect when we were both living in Seattle. I was working remotely and she was quite high up in Seattle’s city government. She was very politically active (as you can imagine being in Seattle). That was fine and I didn’t give it much notice or bother, and I was always well behaved at dinners with the mayor and the other work functions I tagged along on.
It didn’t take long for her to start pushing me to take my career more seriously and move from being a project manager to higher management positions. The push wasn’t a bad thing from her perspective I am sure, but I was content where I was. I was great at my job, I could travel, and I had a great team (both on my projects and in my managers).
This didn’t stop her from mentioning at every dinner with friends about her wanting me to take my career to the next level. The nagging just didn’t end. Quite often when I am being pushed to do something I really don’t want to I either dig my heels in and refuse or… I go FULL into it so obnoxiously that the point comes across pretty clearly as to where I stand. Even as a child if I got in trouble at school (a daily occurrence) my Mom would make be bring wood up from the basement and to protest this more than once I would bring up so much, and stack it so high, that they would need a step ladder to use the top pieces. For good or bad, my mentality hasn’t changed much over the years and with the girlfriend and her crew constantly nagging me about my career it was time to take action and put this to bed.
It was a Friday evening in 2016 and we had a group of her city workers and their spouses over for dinner. As the conversation drizzled on I was waiting for my moment. As she was telling one of her friends how well I had been behaving the past week, I decided it was time. I took a knife and softly dinged my wine glass. “I have some big news, guys. I have formally applied for an upper management position. Actually, a VP position and I feel I have a great chance here and this can really boost my career.” Everyone was happy; a few claps even ensued. I was then asked what company was this VP position in? I proudly slammed the write up below down on the table while loudly saying “VP OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, BABY!!”
Dear Sir, I would like to apply to be your Vice President in 2024. I am a highly motivated individual with valued skills both in leadership and management which will enable us to lead this country as it has never been led before. My skills have been honed beginning in my youth as a soldier with the 82nd Airborne Division. These skills have only grown throughout my life as a successful graduate of Boston University, and as a leader in the field of project management. Thank you for your consideration and I look forward to working with you to make America great again.
Sincerely,
Michael Huber, PMP
Well, as you can imagine that announcement went over like a fart in church. Nonetheless I stuck with it and doubled down asking if any of them had applied for the VP position. Of course, none had, so I made it very clear that I now had a better shot than any of them. Needless to say, I got the reaction I was looking for and my career aspirations were never discussed again. I accomplished my objective.
Now, in 2024 I find myself currently without a job, so I formally applied yet again and, so far, I have only received the photo reply you see above. My Dad says I will have to return and work from Washington D.C. if I get the job, but I think as a VP I can be remote and work from abroad (I will negotiate that once I am formally offered the position). I am expecting either an offer letter in the mail or a phone call in the next week or so. I will keep you in the loop on how this new career path works out.
Kim and I exchanged ideas on routes and agreed the one I had lazily researched would be a great one, but it might result in some long riding days. I would have to forego some hikes and tourist attractions that were on my list. It was a loop that would take me over three unique mountain passes, and allow me to see two glaciers and cruise along ocean roads. It would be a full riding trip with not much time for hikes and other tourist stops. This was fine with me as I was itching to ride again. Also, I had enough time remaining in country that if anything appealed to me, I could always return via bus or rental car.
