Motorcycle Adventure Ride – Page 28

The Big Ride: 5 Factors Affecting Daily Mileage

How many miles can you ride in a day?

About 30 years ago I cranked 1070 miles in one day on a Harley Softail coming home from Mexico (and that was on an older Softail without the rubber mounted engine…it’s the one you see in the photo above). I was younger and I could ride, as they say, like the wind. A couple of weeks ago, I did a 250-mile day ride on my Enfield and it about wiped me out.

Gresh and I were talking about this recently, and I thought I would share my thoughts on how many miles you can plan on covering in a day. Maybe it will influence your planning. Maybe not. We get paid the same either way.

1: Age

Like I said above, big miles used to be no big deal for me. That’s not the case any more. After substantial scientific study and close observation of my geezer buddies over many decades, I developed a graph showing the relationship between age and how many miles you can reasonably ride in a day.

Like it or not, when we get older, it gets harder to rack up big miles. Serious scientific study went into the above, so if you want to debate our conclusions, bring facts. We want to hear them.

2: Weather

Weather plays a big role in how many miles you can ride in a single day, and here at ExNotes we rely heavily on our weather rock before leaving on any ride. You’ve probably heard about weather rocks. We sell weather rocks here on ExNotes and they are conveniently sized to fit into a tank bag. They work like this…you hang the rock from any available support (you have to supply your own string and support). Here’s how to interpret your weather rock:

- If the rock is wet, it means it’s raining and you should reduce however many miles you had planned to ride by half.
- If the rock is swinging, it means it’s windy that day, and you should reduce your miles by maybe a third.
- If the rock is hot to the touch, it means the temperature is elevated, and you should reduce your miles by maybe a third. Maybe even more.
- If the rock is cold, it means it’s cold, and you probably can ride as long as you dress appropriately. If the rock is really, really cold, though, maybe you should stay home. If there’s ice on the rock, you definitely should stay home.

ExNotes offers weather rocks in brand-specific models:

- If you ride a Harley, we offer chrome weather rocks for $395, chrome with conchos and black leather fringe weather rocks for $495, and chrome, conchos, fringe, and matching do rag weather rocks for $595 (freight and setup fees not included).
- If you ride a BMW, we offer the GS weather rock with an electronically adjustable center of gravity, BMW logos, and a one-year Starbucks gift certificate for $1995.
- If you ride a Ducati, you probably don’t need a weather rock (Ducati riders generally only ride their motorcycles short distances on clear days, anyway, although if you insist, we can provide a red rock for you personally autographed by the former famous racer of your choice, or we can put several rocks in a bag you can shake to sound like a Ducati clutch). Ducati rocks are free, or at least that’s what we tell you (we’ll recover the cost on your first valve adjustment and let you think you got the rock for free).
- If you ride a Chinese motorcycle, we sell an ExNotes weather rock decal for $2 and you can put it on your own rock.

3: Roads

The kind of roads you plan to ride make a huge difference. If it’s all freeway, you’ll be bored but you can rack up huge miles. If it’s surface streets (and a lot of us do everything we can to stay off the freeway), you won’t cover as many miles unless you’re riding in Baja, where you can run 140mph+ on the long straights south of Valle de Los Cirios. If it’s in the mountains, it will be less, unless you’re posting about your skills on Facebook, where the folks who post are world class riders (to hear them tell it). The same holds true for riding in the dirt. You just won’t cover as many miles.

4: Headcount

This is the big one, folks. Maybe I should have listed it first. If I’m riding by myself or with one of my motorcycle buddies in Baja, I can easily do over 500 miles a day. Throw in more people, and…well, read on, my friends.

The number of riders in your group has a profound impact on how many miles you can ride in a day. In the math world, we would say that the miles per day are inversely proportional to the number of riders in your group.

As a starting point (and after extensive research and mathematical modeling), the technical staff here at ExNotes developed Formula A:

A) Miles per Day = (M)/(N)

where:

M = Miles you want to ride
N = Number of riders in your group

What the above means is that as the number of riders in your group increases, the number of miles you can cover in a day decreases. That’s because with more riders you’ll start later in the morning, you’ll be stopping more often, and you’ll take more time at each stop. That is, unless you’re riding with me. Then Formula A reduces to Formula B:

B) Miles per Day = M

where:

M = Miles you want to ride

The B in Formula B stands for Berk because basically I’ll leave you behind if you’re not ready when I am. You can catch up with me later. You might think I’m joking. I’m not.

Formula A varies a little depending on what kind of riders you have in your group, and especially if you have a Rupert. Rupert is the guy who takes 20 minutes putting his motorcycle gear back on after every stop. I once rode with a Rupert who could take 20 minutes just putting his gloves on. He got better when we threatened to cut a few of his fingers off.

5: Your Motorcycle

There are several motorcycle factors that play a huge role in how many miles you can ride in a day. In the old days, a motorcycle was a motorcycle and we did it all with a single bike (touring, off-road, canyon carving, adventure riding, etc.). Today, you gotta get specific:

- ADV-style bikes are actually pretty comfortable and the ergonomics make sense. 500-mile days are easy. My KLR 650 was one of the best touring bikes I ever owned. It had phenomenal ergos.
- Standard motorcycles are also relatively comfortable and you can probably do 500 miles in a day, but you’ll feel it, especially if your bike does not have a windshield. My Enfield 650 Interceptor is a good bike, but it’s the one that wiped me out on that recent 250-mile ride.
- Cruisers look cool in motorcycle ads and they complement do rags and tattoos nicely, but they are less comfortable on long rides. I’ve found I can reasonably do 350-mile days on a cruiser without needing to see a chiropractor. Go much beyond that and you’ll feel it.
- Sportbikes generally cut into big miles, but a lot depends on your age. Good buddy Marty and I rode sportbikes on the 2005 Three Flags Classic (I was on a Triumph Daytona) and we did big mile days on that ride. But I was 20 years younger then and I bent a lot easier. I wouldn’t want to do it again.
- Classic bikes generally require shorter daily riding distances, particularly if they are British and equipped with electricals manufactured by Lucas (as in Lucas, the Prince of Darkness). I think a mid-’60s Triumph Bonneville is the most beautiful motorcycle ever created, but I wouldn’t want to ride Baja on one.

Beyond the style issues outlined above, there are other motorcycle factors to consider:

- Bigger motors generally mean more miles in a day, but bigger motorcycles can slow you down if they suck up too much fuel. One year at the International Motorcycle Show, Yamaha’s bikes all had labels that showed, among other things, fuel economy. The VMax, as noted by Yamaha, averaged 27 miles per gallon. You’d be making a lot more fuel stops on that one. 27 miles per gallon. I can’t make up stuff this good.
- Daily mileage is independent of displacement at 400cc and above (as long as fuel economy is not VMax nutty). Below 400cc, it gets harder (I think) to crank big miles. On my 250cc RX3, 500 miles is a big day for me. But my good buddy Rob once did a 1000-mile Baby Butt on his RX3, so I guess anything is possible.
- Seats can make a big difference. I’ve never found any motorcycle seat to be really comfortable, but I have found a few to be god-awful (my Enfield is working hard to earn that title). If you want to really improve a motorcycle seat so you can up your miles, get a sheepskin cover (I’ve found those to be quite comfortable). There are other options like inflatable seats or custom made seats, but my advice is don’t waste your money. A guy showed up with an inflatable seat cover on a group ride once and it slowed us considerably. It kept blowing off his bike and we had to stop and look for it each time that happened.
- Fuel tank capacity doesn’t make much difference. My KLR could go 250 miles on a tank; my TL1000S would start blinking at 105 miles. You’d think you could ride a lot further with a bigger tank, but I found I need to stop and stretch roughly every hour or two, and if I do that at gas stations, tank capacity doesn’t matter.

What do you think?

So there you have it: Our thoughts on a complex topic.

We know there are keyboard commandos out there who will take exception to our carefully constructed and presented thoughts. If you disagree, let’s hear it. We appreciate all comments, dumbass and otherwise. Please leave your thoughts here on the blog for others to see. Don’t waste your time leaving comments on Facebook (all the cool people leave their comments here…only losers post comments on Facebook). You’ll be a faster rider, you’ll be thinner, and you’ll look better if you post your comments here. And don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, grammar, or capitalization (believe it or not, it will help our readers assess the validity of your thinking).

Like they say, your mileage may vary, and we’re looking forward to your comments. If they’re particularly inane, so much the better. We await your inputs.

Some of our more interesting rides? Right here, folks!

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The 5 Stupidest Ideas in Motorcycling

We don’t do many listicals here at ExhaustNotes.us. Editorial policy frowns on the cheap, easy list as a lazy man’s way to get attention. However, that doesn’t mean we are completely immune to the meth-like attraction of lists. The thing is, click-bait lists are nearly impossible to get right. Whatever harebrained idea you’ve thought of to generate more clicks, and hopefully shares, will be blown out of the water in the comments section by people much, much smarter than you. And that’s ok, that’s why listicals are so popular. It’s a way to piss people off and generate interest.

Number 1: ABS Brakes

I don’t know which lawyer came up with the idea, but it had to be a lawyer. Full-time Antilock Brake Systems are the single most dangerous feature on modern motorcycles. Just a month ago my buddy forgot to disarm his BMW’s antilock system after a trailside nap. (The BMW system defaults to “on” whenever you shut off the bike.) After we started riding again the trail turned steeply downhill. The steepness of the descent meant that rain washed away any fine sands and left behind large rocks and boulders. His BMW rolled and rolled. All attempts at braking were futile and so naturally he crashed. The bike was basically freewheeling down a rocky hill. At least his BMW had the option to opt out of ABS.

There’s no sicker feeling than panic stomping on the brakes and nothing happens. Any motorcycle that even slightly hints at off road capability should come with a means of disabling the ABS. For that matter practically every street bike has been known to travel a dirt road or two so really all motorcycles should come with the ability to disarm the ABS. These aren’t cars we’re talking about here. Many occasions call for a motorcycle rider to lock up the rear wheel and sometimes (like on that rocky downhill) lock up the front wheel.

Number 2: Keyless Ignitions

Those electronic key fobs are a stupid solution to a problem nobody had. What is wrong with a plain old key? You know, the kind you can have a duplicate made almost anywhere? The stupid electronic-proximity widgets are huge, like the size of a Krispy Kreme doughnut. They are bulky in your pocket and you’ve got to keep a good battery in them just to start your bike! God help you if you ever lose the thing. It will require a dealer’s services and several hundred dollars to program your new Kreme.

Most times I’ve ridden a bike that came with a clunky electronic key fob I ended up leaving the thing in the saddlebag or hidden on the bike somewhere. This defeats the purpose of having any sort of lock on your motorcycle at all but I’d rather have the bike stolen than carry that stupid key fob. I suspect the real reason for the electronic key fob is to allow constant surveillance at the factory level. Didn’t make that latest payment? No problem we’ll disable your ride until you cough up the cash, Highway Rebel!

Number 3: Helmet Communicators

These silly devices allow passenger to operator conversation or communication between groups of riders. Precisely the thing you’re trying to get away from when you ride a motorcycle. Look, if I want to know what you’re thinking, which I don’t, I’ll wave you to a stop and we will discuss it hand to hand. The advertisements for these Zen-terrupters tout range and clarity as if those are aspirational goals. I might buy a set if the manufacturer promised me the damn things would never work.

Some of you find pleasure in the constant road-chatter. Not me, I want you to keep your thoughts to yourself and I’ll do the same. Some of you think that communication devices are a good way to warn back markers about road conditions. That assumes anyone will actually believe you after that last bone-headed move you pulled leaving the Waffle House. Then I’m told they are good for keeping the group together so that stragglers won’t get lost. Has it ever occurred to these pro-communication, Chatty Cathy’s that the stragglers want to get lost? That maybe they are sick of your yapping about fence posts, tar snakes and how you want everyone to stop because you have to pee. Aren’t you old enough to go to the bathroom alone?

Some of my most memorable group-ride dinnertime discussions have been a result of the group breaking up, missing turns, getting lost and arriving at the restaurant with wild stories to tell. That won’t happen if everyone has had the exact same experience. “Did you see the size of that buck?” is met with a flat-toned chorus, “Yes, we all heard over the radio and saw the buck.” rather than “No, but the hitch hikers we picked up when we made that wrong turn robbed us at gunpoint and then Phil ran off with the redhead.” Remember, the best part of riding in a group is being alone.

Number 4: Entertainment Systems

This includes stupid Bluetooth, interconnecting phone features, stupid music systems and stupid, play-pretty graphics that distract a motorcyclist from the main job at hand: staying alive. Riding a motorcycle is dangerous enough without the rider fiddling around with the dash display on his motorcycle. Engine RPM and velocity, along with distance traveled is all the data you need to correctly operate a motorcycle. Page after page of bright, TFT-BS will only make you worry about the minor fluctuations any mechanical device goes through in the normal prosecution of its job.

No one ever cared about their tire pressures until those TPS systems polluted the instrument panels of America. Now it’s like everyone is running Moto GP and 1 psi really matters. Stop it! And if your idea of a fun motorcycle ride is playing with the stereo and poking your thumb at 45 different handlebar buttons maybe you should quit changing the display settings and just stay at home with your younger brother’s Nintendo. The one your parents made him put down in the basement so the noise won’t bother your mom’s overly sensitive ears. Doesn’t it seem like the older she gets the more sound annoys her?

Number 5: One-Piece Riding Suits on the Street

I know some riders swear by one-piece suits but don’t take their opinion on the subject, take mine. I had a one-piece leather suit 43 years ago and the trauma from that experience still haunts me. Many a night I wake up in a cold sweat having to use the restroom but mentally stuck inside a one-piece suit. I can see road racers wearing one piece suits for the extra protection they afford during high-speed get-offs. If you’re riding your street bike anything like a Moto GP star you should probably not be riding on the street. Sure, they look great in website road test photos but those guys are only riding the bike for 15 minutes at a time. As soon as the camera stops clicking they peel that crap off toot-sweet.

For normal, everyday riding a one-piece suit is incredibly inconvenient. There are only a few things more disgusting than using a filthy, urine-soaked gas station toilet and one of them is using a filthy, urine-soaked gas station toilet while wearing a one-piece riding suit. Once you wiggle out of the top and drop your drawers you’ll soon realize that there is not enough space between the lip of the toilet and the urine-soaked floor for all that material. It’s like trying to corral your parachute in France after you’ve landed behind enemy lines on June 6th, 1944. Ok, I have no idea what that’s really like but you kind of sit there holding the bag: Practice hovering if you simply must mimic Marc Marquez on your Honda Blah.

I have more stupid motorcycle things, many more, but 5 is a good number to stop at. I mean, I may have to test some of these stupid motorcycle ideas and I don’t want to use up all my outrage in one story.

More Joe Gresh is here!

Joe Gresh Enfield and Baja impressions are here!

The $100 Hamburger…

The $100 hamburger: It’s aviation slang for any hamburger that requires flying in to a local airport for a burger. I first heard the term from good buddy Margit Chiriaco Rusche when researching the story on the General Patton Memorial Museum. You see, there’s still an airport at Chiriaco Summit, left over from General George Patton’s Desert Training Center. Margit told me about pilots flying in for the mythical $100 hamburger at the Chiriaco Summit Café, and I knew I had to have one as soon as she mentioned it. The Café doesn’t actually charge a hundred bucks (it was only $15.66 with a giant iced tea, fries, and a side of chili); the $100 figure pertains to what it would cost a pilot to fly your own plane to Chiriaco Summit, enjoy the General Patton Burger, and fly out.

Even though bloggers like Gresh and me are rolling in dough, we don’t have our own airplanes. But we have the next best thing. Gresh has his Kawasaki Z1 900, and I have my Royal Enfield Interceptor.

Good buddy Marty (a dude with whom I’ve been riding for more than 20 years) told me he needed to get out for a ride and I suggested the Patton Museum. It’s a 250-mile round trip for us, and the trip (along with the General Patton Burger, which is what you see in the big photo above) would be just what the doctor ordered. I’d have my own hundred dollar burger, and at a pretty good price, too. Two tanks of gas (one to get there and one to get home) set me back $16, and it was $18 (including tip) for the General Patton Burger. I had my hundred dollar burger at a steep discount. And it was great.

I’ll confess…it had been a while since I rode the Enfield. In fact, it’s been a while since I’d been on any ride. I didn’t sleep too much the night before (pre-ride jitters, I guess) and I was up early. I pushed the Enfield out to the curb and my riding amigos showed up a short time later. There would be four of us on this ride (me, Marty, and good buddies Joe and Doug). Marty’s a BMW guy; Joe and Doug both ride Triumph Tigers.

As motorcycle rides go, we had great weather and a boring road. It was 125 miles on the 210 and 10 freeways to get to the Patton Museum and the same distance back. Oh, I know, there were other roads and we could have diverted through Joshua Tree National Park, but like I said, I hadn’t ridden in a while and boring roads were what I wanted.

The Patton Museum was a hoot, as it always is. I had my super fast 28mm Nikon lens (which is ideal for a lot of things), and I shot more than a few photos that day. You can have a lot of fun with a camera, a fast lens, a motorcycle, and good friends. A fast 28mm lens is good for indoor available light (no flash) photography, and I grabbed several photos inside the Patton Museum.

It was a bit strange looking at the photos of the World War II general officers, including the one immediately above. I realized that all of us (Marty, Joe, Doug, and I) are older than any of the generals were during World War II. War is a young man’s game, I guess. Or maybe we’re just really old.

You can see our earlier pieces on the Patton Museum here and here. It’s one of my favorite spots. If you want to know more about Chiriaco Summit, the Chiriaco family, and the General Patton Memorial Museum’s origins, I highly recommend picking up a copy of Mary Gordon’s Chiriaco Summit. It is an excellent read.

We rode the same roads home as the ride in, except it was anything but boring on the return leg. We rode into very stiff winds through the Palm Springs corridor on the westward trek home, and the wind made for a spirited ride on my lighter, windshieldless Enfield Interceptor. My more detailed impressions of the Enfield 650 will be a topic for a future blog, so stay tuned!

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More than a machine: A Janus Motorcycle

Sometimes a motorcycle is so beautiful, so perfect, it just stops you in your tracks. The red Janus Gryffin in these photos does that for me.

Our good buddies at Janus Motorcycles make stunning motorcycles. I rode their olive green Gryffin across northern Baja and it was a perfect machine, one I thought could not be topped. Then I saw this red Gryffin that my good friend Richard posted on Facebook. Folks, this is how a motorcycle is supposed to look. This machine is more than a motorcycle. It evokes emotion. It’s art.

The motorcycle you see here is Gryffin No. 69 and it is magnificent. Janus GM Richard tells us that “No special detail was left untouched…from the red painted side panels, red wheel pinstripes, and black handlebars, this Gryffin just hits different.” Indeed it does.

For more information on Janus Motorcycles, check them out at JanusMotorcycles.com. If you’d like to read about our Baja ride with the Janus boys, give a click here.

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Used Sportsters: Who knew?

I think CSC gets $3995 for a new RX3 these days, and that’s with all the goodies…skid plate, luggage, ABS, 300W alternator, auxiliary accessory switches, the 19-inch front wheel, and probably a few more things I don’t know about. That’s my RX3 in the photo above. I’ve been riding it for more than 5 years. For the Sinophobic haterbators out there, I’ve never found any fish oil in it, I’ve spent substantial time in the factories where they make the RX3 and there are no children chained to the manufacturing equipment, and the Zong techs are most definitely not slave labor. My RX3 has been and still is a good motorcycle.

Looking over the windshield, on the road in Baja.

I know you can buy a used Sportster for what a new RX3 costs if you shop around; the topic comes up nearly every time I mention the price of an RX3. It’s a silly thought, actually, because I’m still looking for that prospective buyer who is trying to decide between a used Sportster and a new RX3. I’ve been on that quest ever since I started writing about the RX3 six years ago, when the keyboard commandos first started pushing the used-Sportster-in-lieu-of-an-RX3 argument.

Here’s a hot flash: That person (the dude or dudette struggling with such a decision) doesn’t exist. You either want an ADV motorcycle, or you want a used bar-hopper with “much chrome” (as the Sportster ads often highlight). I have never met, or even heard of, somebody pondering whether they should buy a used Sportster or an RX3.

Behold: The financial equivalent of a new RX3.

I hear the same kind of keyboard drivel when Janus motorcycles are mentioned. They’re stunning motorcycles, and I’ve had good times riding them through northern Baja. Invariably, though, the used Sportster financial comparison will emerge. Janus is always polite in their responses. Me? I’m a noncombatant and I don’t respond to such Internet drivel. If you want a used Sportster, it’s a free country. Go for it.

To listen to the keyboard commandos, there must be a lot of folks out there dreaming about used Sportsters. Maybe that’s the answer to Harley’s problem. Even though motorcycle sales in general are up sharply since the pandemic started, Harley’s sales most definitely are not. In fact, to read The Wall Street Journal, Harley is circling the drain. Not to worry, though, because I think I have the answer: Rather than rewiring or hardwiring or screwing around with $30K electric motorcycles, or hiring high-priced executives with zero motorcycle experience (as they seem to love to do), Harley should simply stop production and only traffic in used Sportsters. There would be no need for a factory; that’s a huge savings right there. More savings? Harley wouldn’t need to spend anything on advertising; there’s a potful of worldwide web wannabe wizards pushing used Sportsters already doing that for free.

Used Sportsters. Who knew?

Back to my RX3: I’ve covered a lot of miles on it here and overseas. I had it out this Sunday charging through the smoke we call breathable air here in the Peoples Republik of Kalifornia. I hadn’t ridden the RX3 in a couple of months, but it started right up (like it always does) and it’s still running strong (like it always has).

Good buddy Greg on the road to the cave paintings in Sierra San Francisco, Baja California Sur.

It’s kind of a funny story about how the RX3 came to America. I was in China on a consulting gig for another client when CSC asked me to poke around for a 250cc engine for its line of Mustang replicas. It’s funny in the sense that a lot of Internet people told us they’d buy the Mustang if only the bike had a 250cc engine (instead of its 150cc engine). I found a source for the 250cc engine (Zongshen; they weren’t very hard to find). CSC put the 250cc Zong engine in the Mustang and sales…well, they remained essentially the same. All those yahoos who said they’d buy one if the bike had a 250cc motor? They went MIA. I don’t know what they did after CSC introduced the 250cc engine, but they sure didn’t buy a new Mustang. Ah, I take that back…I do know what they did…they posted more comments on Facebook. It’s hard work being a keyboard commando, I guess, and it’s lonely down there in those basements. But they kept at it. Why buy a CSC Mustang, they said. You could buy a used Sportster for that kind of money, they said. Actually, most of the CSC Mustangs were optioned up by their customers so much that their cost approached and sometimes exceeded what a new Sportster would cost, but that’s neither here nor there.

A 250cc CSC Mustang, accessorized to the max.

The arrangement with the Big Z was a good one, and it led directly to things like the RX3, the RX4, the City Slicker, the TT250, the SG250, and more. It’s how I came to own my RX3, and like I said above, I am still riding and enjoying it. Even though I could have bought a used Sportster.

Good buddy Kyle from China, somewhere in South Dakota’s Black Hills. Don’t worry; he’s not armed (and if you’re wondering what that’s all about, you can read that story here).

I’ve been up and down Baja lots of times with lots of RX3 riders. I’ve been across China, including the Gobi Desert and the Tibetan Plateau, and I’ve ridden around the Andes Mountains in Colombia. I’ve ridden to Sturgis, then back across the top of the US, and down the Pacific Coast with a bunch of guys from China. Gresh rode with me on a lot of of those rides. I know, I know, he didn’t get invited on the Colombia adventure, but hey, he didn’t invite me on the Russia ride, either. But to stay on topic: It’s all been on the RX3.

Riding into the Gobi Desert with Joe Gresh as my wingman. Or was I his? In 6000 miles and 40 days of riding across China, we did not see a single Sportster, used or new.

Those early RX3 rides were marketing demos, basically, designed to show a few guys having the time of their life and demonstrating to everybody else that the RX3 had real chops as an ADV bike. But don’t think I wasn’t nervous. We took 14 guys and one gal on a 1700-mile ride through Baja literally the same week the first RX3s arrived in the US from China (I was sweating bullets on that one), and then we immediately took another 12 or 15 guys from China and Colombia (and one motojournalist from Motorcyclist) on a 5000-mile ride from southern California to Sturgis, back across the top of the US, and down the Pacific coast on what was arguably one of the most highly-publicized (in real time, too) motorcycle publicity stunts ever. I was scared the entire time, thinking something might break and generate a lot of bad press. I guess I didn’t realize how well things were going until the last night of the trip, 4700 miles into it, when Gresh told me to relax. “You won, man,” he said. He was right. But just think: I coulda had that used Sportster.

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ExhaustNotes Road Test: Triumph Scrambler vs. Moto Guzzi Happy Meal

ExhaustNotes prides itself on our thorough reviews. We are not like those lame, ex-paper-magazine websites that actually have the product to hand. At ExNotes we are so professional, so talented in the art of bedazzlery we don’t need to see the review subject to make a good job of it. Which makes this 2-bike comparo an outlier in that I actually rode both these bikes back to back for 10 minutes. That’s more than enough time for me to reach an erroneous conclusion.

The Triumph Scrambler and Moto Guzzi TT850 in this comparo belonged to ExNotes buddies Robert and Phillip, who stopped by for Tinfiny Ranch’s annual West Side Road Rally. The West Side Road Rally is an invitation-only off-road adventure similar to the Colorado 500 except with 470 fewer miles.

The first thing you notice about these big, heavy ADV bikes is how big and heavy they are. They’re even heavy for a street bike. The Triumph seems a wee bit smaller than the Guzzi but from the saddle feels a bit heavier. I didn’t weigh the motorcycles on ExNotes’ USDA-calibrated scale because I don’t want to unduly influence your opinion of either bike with verified facts.

The Guzzi was new, as-delivered stock and it felt softly sprung. I didn’t try adjusting anything because unless a motorcycle is weaving out of control I really don’t care about suspension. In a perfect world we’d all be riding hardtails. The non-Paralever shaft drive gently lifted the rear of the bike under acceleration but it was so smooth and quiet no one noticed. In general the Moto Guzzi behaved like a faster, tighter version of the last Moto Guzzi I rode: a mid 1970’s Eldorado 750.

Suspension on the rear of the TT is a single right-side shock while the industry standard upside down forks hold up the front end. The suspension was so unobtrusive I never bothered to look for who built them. A brace of shut-off-able-ABS disc brakes did a fine job of slowing the weight down. I found the Moto Guzzi a tad bit boring. At 850cc the power was not overwhelming or delivered in any way that could be described as exciting. Maybe a loud, life saving exhaust system would add a sense of urgency to the motorcycle. As is, I think it would make a great long distance touring bike for the asphalt.

Phillip’s Triumph was also new but had been lowered by using shorter twin shocks. It had upside down forks and disc brakes were bolted on all over the place. The triumph at 1200cc felt much stronger than the Guzzi everywhere. The torque was enjoyable as I could leave the bike in top gear through the twisty mountain roads above Alamogordo, New Mexico. Riding the Guzzi I had to row the gearbox a bit.

Everything about the Triumph was harsher than the Guzzi. The suspension felt shorter and stiffer, the seat was harder and smaller, even the Triumph’s cycle parts seemed dangerous, like they were ready to cut you or burn you. So of course I liked it a lot better than the Guzzi. Unlike the Guzzi’s bright display the instrument display on the Triumph was invisible looking through a dark face shield but it didn’t matter as the important stuff was happening between my legs and on the road ahead. I don’t spend much time looking at gauges when I ride a motorcycle.

It’s interesting how these two motorcycles have a corporate-family feel that can be traced back to their earlier models. The Triumph was harsh like my old 750 Triumph. The Guzzi was slushy like that 1970’s Eldorado I rode 40 years ago. The new versions are modern, faster and more refined but the relative feel of the bikes remains unchanged. That old personality is still there.

And that’s why you buy a motorcycle: to feel. Motorcycles are not appliances, something Honda has forgotten. Both these bikes are aiming at the same ADV target audience but their differences and imperfections make them enjoyable. I liked the styling and rorty-ness of the Triumph best and could see buying one if I had any money. The Guzzi was a good bike, better functionally than the Triumph but it didn’t light any fires in me. If I’m going to risk my life on a motorcycle I want the bike to be involved in the process. Even though they look the business, I wouldn’t take either one of these motorcycles off road. The bikes are simply too big and heavy for me to enjoy on dirt.

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Chiriaco Summit and the General Patton Memorial Museum

The thought came to me easily: The Patton Museum. We’d been housebound for weeks, sheltered in place against the virus, and like many others we were suffering from an advanced case of cabin fever. Where can we go that won’t require flying, is reasonably close, and won’t put us in contact with too many people? Hey, I write travel articles for the best motorcycle magazine on the planet (that’s Motorcycle Classics) and I know all the good destinations around here. The Patton Museum. That’s the ticket.

General George S. Patton, Jr., and his faithful companion, Willie, at the General Patton Memorial Museum in Chiriaco Summit, California.

I called the Patton Museum and they were closed. An answering machine. The Pandemic. Please leave a message. So I did. And a day later I had a response from a pleasant-sounding woman. She would let me know when they opened again and she hoped we would visit. So I called and left another message. Big time motojournalist here. We’d like to do a piece on the Museum. You know the drill. The Press. Throwing the weight of the not-so-mainstream media around. Gresh and I do it all the time.

Margit and I finally connected after playing telephone tag. Yes, the Patton Museum was closed, but I could drive out to Chiriaco Summit to get a few photos (it’s on I-10 a cool 120 miles from where I live, and 70 miles from the Arizona border). Margit gave me her email address, and Chiriaco was part of it (you pronounce it “shuhRAYco”).

Wait a second, I thought, and I asked the question: “Is your name Chiriaco, as in Chiriaco Summit, where the Museum is located?”

“Yes, Joe Chiriaco was my father.”

This was going to be good, I instantly knew. And it was.

The story goes like this: Dial back the calendar nearly a century. In the late 1920s, the path across the Colorado, Sonoran, and Mojave Deserts from Arizona through California was just a little dirt road. It’s hard to imagine, but our mighty Interstate 10 was once a dirt road. A young Joe Chiriaco used it when he and a friend hitchhiked from Alabama to see a football game in California’s Rose Bowl in 1927.

Chiriaco stayed in California and joined a team in the late 1920s surveying a route for the aqueduct that would carry precious agua from the mighty Colorado River to Los Angeles. Chiriaco surveyed, he found natural springs in addition to a path for the aqueduct, and he recognized opportunity. That dirt road (Highways 60 and 70 in those early days) would soon be carrying more people from points east to the promised land (the Los Angeles basin). Shaver Summit (the high point along the road in the area he was surveying, now known as Chiriaco Summit) would be a good place to sell gasoline and food. He and his soon-to-be wife Ruth bought land, started a business and a family, and did well. It was a classic case of the right people, the right time, the right place, and the right work ethic. Read on, my friends. This gets even better.

Fast forward a decade into the late 1930s, and we were a nation preparing for war. A visionary US Army leader, General George S. Patton, Jr., knew from his World War I combat experience that armored vehicle warfare would define the future. It would start in North Africa, General Patton needed a place to train his newly-formed tank units, and the desert regions Chiriaco had surveyed were just what the doctor ordered.

Picture this: Two men who could see the future clearly. Joe Chiriaco and George S. Patton. Chiriaco was at the counter eating his lunch when someone tapped his shoulder to ask where he could find a guy named Joe Chiriaco. Imagine a response along the lines of “Who wants to know?” and when Chiriaco turned around to find out, there stood General Patton. Two legends, one local and one national, eyeball to eyeball, meeting for the first time.

A Sherman tank, the one Patton’s men would go to war with in North Africa and Europe, on display at the General Patton Memorial Museum.

Patton knew that Chiriaco knew the desert and he needed his help. The result? Camp Young (where Chiriaco Summit stands today), and the 18,000-square-mile Desert Training Center – California Arizona Maneuver Area (DTC-CAMA, where over one million men would learn armored warfare). It formed the foundation for Patton defeating Rommel in North Africa, our winning World War II, and more. It would be where thousands of Italian prisoners of war spent most of their time during the war. It would become the largest military area in America.

General Patton and Joe Chiriaco became friends and they enjoyed a mutually-beneficial relationship: Patton needed Chiriaco’s help and Chiriaco’s business provided a welcome respite for Patton’s troops. Patton kept Chiriaco’s gas station and lunch counter accessible to the troops, Chiriaco sold beer with Patton’s blessing, and as you can guess….well, you don’t have to guess: We won World War II.

World War II ended, the Desert Training Center closed, and then, during the Eisenhower administration, Interstate 10 followed the path of Highways 60 and 70. Patton’s troops and the POWs were gone and I-10 became the major east/west freeway across the US. We had become a nation on wheels and Chiriaco’s business continued to thrive as Americans took to the road with our newfound postwar prosperity.

Fast forward yet again: In the 1980s Margit (Joe and Ruth Chiriaco’s daughter) and Leslie Cone (the Bureau of Land Management director who oversaw the lands that had been Patton’s desert training area) had an idea: Create a museum honoring General Patton and the region’s contributions to World War II. Ronald Reagan heard about it and donated an M-47 Patton tank (the one you see in the large photo at the top of this blog), and things took off from there.

I first rode my motorcycle to the General Patton Memorial Museum in 2003 with my good buddy Marty. It was a small museum then, but it has grown substantially. When Sue and I visited a couple of weeks ago, I was shocked and surprised by what I saw. I can only partly convey some of it through the photos and narrative you see in this blog. We had a wonderful visit with Margit, who told us a bit about her family, the Museum, and Chiriaco Summit. On that topic of family, it was Joe and Ruth Chiriaco, Margit and her three siblings, their children, and their grandchildren. If you are keeping track, that’s four generations of Chiriacos.

The Chiriaco Summit story is an amazing one and learning about it can be reasonably compared to peeling an onion. There are many layers, and discovering each might bring a tear or two. Life hasn’t always been easy for the Chiriaco family out there in the desert, but they always saw the hard times as opportunities and they instinctively knew how to use each opportunity to add to their success. We can’t tell the entire story here, but we’ll give you a link to a book you might consider purchasing at the end of this blog. Our focus is on the General Patton Memorial Museum, and having said that, let’s get to the photos.

The Patton Museum’s new Matzner Tank Pavilion. When we were there, one of the two M60 tanks you see in front was running. If you think a motorcycle engine at idle makes music, you will love listening to an M60’s air-cooled, horizontally-opposed, 1790-cubic-inch, 12-cylinder diesel engine. I drove an M60 once when I was in the Army. Yeah, I still want one.

The business end of an M60’s 105mm main gun. This one has been out of service for a long time; hence the rust. Firing one of these settles disagreements quickly.

The M4 Sherman, our main battle tank in World War II, on the right, with an M5 Stuart tank on the left.

Don’t tread on me, or so the saying goes. Everything on a tank is big. You don’t realize how big until you stand next to one.

When Patton’s men trained at the DTC-CAMA, they used mockup aggressor vehicles (jeeps fitted with frames and canvas) to simulate the bad guys.

M60 main battle tanks parked behind the Museum. This was a shot I could not resist. If Joe Gresh was into tanks, this is what Tinfiny Ranch would undoubtedly look like. The Patton name was attached to the M47, M48, and M60 tank series. I asked Margit about these tanks, and she told me that when the Museum raises enough money, they’ll be made operational and put on display. For now, Margit said, “they stand as silent ghosts with General Patton at the helm.” I like that.

The General Patton Memorial Museum outdoor chapel. The chapel was built using desert rocks. If someone is looking for a unique wedding venue, this is it.

When I first visited the Patton Museum nearly 20 years ago, there were only three or four tanks on display. As you can see from the above photos, the armored vehicle display has grown dramatically.

Like the armored vehicle exhibits, the Museum interior has also expanded, and it has done so on a grand scale. In addition to the recently-built Matzner Tank Pavilion shown above, the exhibits inside are far more extensive than when I first visited. Sue and I had the run of the Museum, and I was able to get some great photos. The indoor exhibits are stunning, starting with the nearly 100-year-old topo map that dominates the entrance.

The Metropolitan Water District’s scale map of southern California, Arizona, and Nevada. MWD brought this model to the US Congress in 1927 to secure funding for the California Aqueduct, then they stored and forgot about it for decades. An MWD executive overhead Margit talking about the planned Patton Museum in the Chiriaco Summit coffee shop one day, he remembered the map, and one thing led to another. MWD donated the map to the Patton Museum in 1988. The Big Map (as it is known) covers the area used by Patton’s Desert Training Center and the California Arizona Maneuver Area. It’s a visually-arresting display that is truly something special.

Generals Patton and Rommel, the two key players in North Africa. If you’ve never seen the movie, Patton, you need to fix that oversight. It is a great movie.

George S. Patton: The early years. Patton attended the Virginia Military Institute and the United States Military Academy at West Point. His family was from San Marino, California. Patton was born into wealth and could have done whatever he wanted. He chose a career in the US Army.

One of the display rooms inside the Patton Museum. I could have spent the entire day in just this room. That’s an A-10 Warthog model in the foreground. It’s the airplane we used to take out Iraq’s Republican Guard tanks in Operation Desert Storm. I worked for the company that manufactured the A-10’s 30mm Gatling Gun ammo and Combined Effects Munitions cluster bombs that did most of the heavy lifting in that war.

Another view inside the Patton Museum. A tripod, a Nikon, a wide angle lens, and having the room to myself. It was a grand day.

A model of Patton’s command vehicle. Patton lived in a trailer and moved with his troops during most of World War II, unlike other US generals who mostly stayed in hotels. Patton was an RVer before there were RVs.

The Patton Museum has an extensive World War II small arms display. I could have spent half a day just viewing this part of the Museum. I’ll be back.

The Patton Museum’s small arms display included this beautiful Model 1917 Colt .45 ACP revolver. Most of the surviving specimens you see today (when you see them at all; they are not very common) have a Parkerized finish. This one has the original blued finish. I own a Colt 1917; mine has the original finish, too. There’s quite a story behind these revolvers.

A beautiful British Infantry Lee Enfield No. 4 rifle. I grabbed a photo of this one because it had an unusually attractive stock, something you don’t often see on infantry rifles.

A replica of General Patton’s ivory-handled Colt Single Action Army revolver. Patton carried different sidearms during World War II, including this Colt SAA and a Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum (also equipped with ivory grips). Patton’s Colt SAA had two notches carved in the left grip. Then Lieutenant Patton was part of the Pershing expedition that chased Pancho Villa in Mexico from Fort Bliss (my old stomping grounds). Patton personally killed two men in a gunfight during that action. There’s no doubt about it: Patton was the real deal, a genuine warrior.

In addition to the General Patton Memorial Museum, there are several businesses the Chiriaco family operates at Chiriaco Summit, and the reach of this impressive family is four generations deep. As we mentioned earlier, it’s a story that can’t be told in a single article, but Margit was kind enough to give us a copy of Chiriaco Summit, a book that tells it better than I ever could. You should buy a copy. It’s a great read about a great family and a great place.

I enjoyed Chiriaco Summit immensely. That’s Joe Chiriaco in the lower left photo, and Ruth Chiriaco in the upper right inset. Margit Chiriaco Rusche, their daughter, is seated in the 1928 Model A. Fourth-generation Victor (whom we met) runs a vintage car header company at Chiriaco Summit. Victor is the young man standing behind Margit.

So there you have it: The General Patton Memorial Museum and Chiriaco Summit. It’s three hours east of Los Angeles on Interstate 10 and it’s a marvelous destination. Keep an eye on the Patton Museum website, and when the pandemic is finally in our rear view mirrors, you’ll want to visit this magnificent California desert jewel.

More great Destinations are right here!

Product Review: Chase Harper 650 Tank Bag

I’ve dropped a lot of usable content on Facebook without thinking about it. Good stories that would have made excellent topics for an ExhaustNotes.us blog post and I’ve screwed around and published them on Facebook’s Anti-Social Network. To what end? All it does is supply the buoyant pontoons that support a miserable, never-ending political tussle on my Facebook feed. My Chase Harper magnetic tank bag is a perfect example. Why haven’t I written a product review on this thing?

Until John Burns over at Motorcycle.com brought up tank bags I had completely forgotten I had one. I bought the Chase Harper 650 the day Berk and I left for our 650/500 Royal Enfield Baja trip. Neither Royal Enfield was set up with luggage so we strapped our gear on the bikes as best we could. I started out on the 500cc Bullet and I had so much junk to carry I used a backpack to hold some of it.

I’m a proponent of letting the motorcycle carry as much weight as possible. Slinging 20 pounds of junk onto your back and then pounding on city streets is not smart or sexy. My back was already hurting. We were working our way south to pick up a freeway when I called out to Berk, “Is there a motorcycle shop around here? I need to get a tank bag.”

“Yeah, follow me.” I followed Berk through the nondescript Californian sprawl and we arrived at a motorcycle accessory shop that was not named CycleGear. The shop guys came out and ogled the (at the time a new model not yet sold) Royal Enfield 650. We shot the breeze for a bit and then went inside to look at tank bags. Which didn’t take long because they only had one in stock: the Chase Harper 650.

The Model 650 is as plain as you can make a tank bag. It has a few zipper compartments and four strong magnets to hold the thing to your tank. Nothing expands or is special. Chase Harper is proud of their motorcycle products and prices them accordingly. The thing was like 90 dollars! As it was the display model, kind of dusty and missing the box and paperwork I asked the guys for a discount. No deal.

Berk started telling them how we were famous motojournalists. The clerks shook their heads, neither having heard of or read our stuff. I showed them a few tired old Motorcyclist Magazine stories on my cell phone and they seemed really interested but would not budge on the price. “We’ve already reduced the price on that bag, we can’t go any lower.” I bet Peter Egan could have gotten the price down. The fastest way to end this ego shattering indignity was to fork over the money and haul ass as fast as we could.

The bag was a great relief for my back. It held my camera, wallet, phone and enough stuff that I could survive a day or two on the hoof. Whenever Berk and I went into a store or restaurant I took the bag with me. The magnets make that so easy. I didn’t like that the bag had no rain cover. Those soulless misers at the motorcycle shop not called CycleGear said it was rain resistant. Whenever a motorcycle gear manufacturer says a product is resistant to rain you can take that to mean the damn thing is a sponge. I mean, anything that doesn’t dissolve like sugar when it gets wet could be described as resistant to rain.

As it turns out we didn’t hit any rain on our ride through Baja and the tank bag worked out perfectly fine. I got the 650 Royal Enfield up to an indicated 115 miles per hour and it stayed put like it was made to do 115.

In all the time I have owned the C-H bag I never really looked it over too closely. I didn’t see any straps for using the bag like a backpack. This is a common feature on tank bags. It wasn’t until Burns’ brought up tank bags on Facebook that Steve, another C-H 650 user told me that the straps were hidden in a zipper compartment under the grab handle.

And they were! Well hidden, I wonder if I the shop not named CycleGear had given me the original paperwork for the 650 would I have found the straps sooner? Probably not: I would have tossed the paperwork anyway. I’m a rebel, man.

The interior of the C-H 650 is plush, deep red. I feel like I have a bordello between my legs whenever I open the lid. Well padded, my camera gear survived Baja’s bumpy roads unscathed.

The lid of the 650 has quite a few features. There’s a bungee cord crisscrossing the top to hold odd shaped bits. Behind the mesh map holder there is yet another zipper for papers and what not.

Finally, there is a front-opening pouch with a red plastic liner that might keep something dry depending on how much the zipper leaks. I haven’t used any of these little hidey-holes so I can’t say if they are worthwhile. I toss everything into the main compartment.

The backside of the C-H 650 is not covered in super soft material. It’s more like vinyl. I had no tank scratches using the 650. There is one clip on the front and two clips on the back that I imagine could be used for strapping the bag to non-metallic gas tanks. I did not get the parts that would affix the bag to a non-metallic tank. They might be an extra cost item or you-know-who lost them at that shop not named CycleGear.

Overall I’m happy if not ecstatic with the Chase Harper tank bag. Just remember to bring plastic bags to protect your stuff in the rain. It did the job I needed it to do for much more money than I thought it should. For only having one, dusty tank bag the shop not named CycleGear did ok. My last tank bag lasted 10 years. This one looks sturdy enough to go the same distance.

Land O’ Goshen: A Janus ride!

Janus Motorcycles has a series of videos on their motorcycles, and this is the latest with Jordan and Josiah. There are few things that sound as good as a single-cylinder motorcycle accelerating, and that comes across loud and clear in the video. Enjoy, my friends.

Watching the Janus video reminded me of the Baja ride I took with Jordan and Devin (you can read about that adventure here). It was cool, riding the jewel-like, CG-engined, Janus motorcycles across northern Baja. We may do that again at some point in the Covid-free future and that would be fun. We sure had a great time on our Janus Baja adventure.

You can read about our other rides here, and more on things to see and do in Baja here.

Stranded in Baja, Hearst Castle, and more…

Every once in a while we do a blog that covers a bunch of topics, and this is one of those times.

Good buddy Mike Huber and his friend Bobbie motorcycled Mexico (Baja, to be specific, almost another country all by itself), and he most recently published an excellent story about being stranded down there by the Covid 19 pandemic. It’s not often that we recommend another blog, but hey, Mike’s writing is outstanding and it’s a great story. Take a look; it’s very good.

My favorite motorcycle magazine (that would be Motorcycle Classics) sends out marketing emails on a regular basis, and in those emails they include links to past (and sometimes recent) articles. I write for MC, and the most recent email that slipped into my inbox included a link to my Destinations piece on Hearst Castle. You might want to read that story; I love Hearst Castle. It’s closed for the pandemic, but the pandemic won’t last forever. Hearst Castle will be there when it’s over.

We’re having a heat wave (both here in the Peoples Republik of Kalifornia and at Tinfiny Ranch). That prompted us to start a piece on riding in extreme heat. My first recommendation would be: Don’t. But things don’t always work out the way you want them to. I once rode the length of Baja on a Mustang replicas with several friends, and due to a lack of research on my part we did the ride in Baja’s hottest month (and that’s September). You can read about the 150cc Baja ride through Hell here. Do you have any advice for riding in high temperatures? Please share them with us (info@exhaustnotes.us) and we’ll include your recommendations here on the blog.

We have more motorcycle, gun and other stuff coming up, including info on Ruger’s new Custom Shop and their Super GP100 .357 Mag revolver, favored loads in the Henry .45 70 Single Shot, a piece on Turnbull’s iconic color case hardening and restoration services, a stunning (and tack-driving) Kimber with exhibition grade French walnut, the wrap-up of our ride through the Andes Mountains in Colombia, the Canton Fair, and for you fans of The Ten Commandments, making bricks without hay and mortar. And a whole lot more.