The Route 66 MSILSF Endurance Run!

You’re going to like this. It’s an endurance event, but not the kind you might be thinking of. No BMW GS ADV monsters, no Gold Wings, no Harleys, in fact, no motorcycles. It’s scooter time, folks!

Alan Spears, MSILSF honcho and motor scooter madman…my kind of guy!

First, let’s wind back the clock about 8 years. Let’s see, that would put us at about 2011, and that would be the Hell’s Loop scooter run, organized by the Motor Scooter International Land Speed Federation, and in particular, my good buddy Alan Spears. Alan, you see, is a bit different than the rest of the children. He’s an attorney by day, but at night he becomes a superhero dedicated to fighting villains and standing for Truth, Justice, and the American Way. Well, sort of. Alan, you see, organizes motor scooter endurance events. I know this because the one I entered was the aforementioned Hell’s Loop, and it was a hoot.

‘Twas a dark and stormy night…nah, not really. The sun was shining but it was freezing as the three of us rode our California Scooters into Death Valley back in 2011 during the Hell’s Loop event. That’s good buddies TK and Arlene out in front of me.

There were three of us, and we were on California Scooters. Those were the little 150cc Mustang replicas you’ve been reading about on the ExhaustNotes blog, the very same ones we rode to Cabo and back. The event was a hoot, and we might have won it, but one of our group forgot their gloves and then we got lost, and then…well, you get the idea. But we did finish, and we did 400 miles in a single day on our 150cc Mustangs. We froze our butts off, too, but what’s an adventure ride without a little loss of creature comforts? You say you want proof? It didn’t happen if there are no pictures? Hey, there’s that one above and here are a couple more…

Flat out on my 150 somewhere in Death Valley. Note the Baja decal on the windshield.
Filling up in Panamint, at $5.19 a gallon. Those little bikes got nearly 100 mpg, so I didn’t care.

All right, so where am I going with this story?

You can’t keep a good man down, and Alan is a good man. His next adventure is the Route 66 X-Treme Endurance 400-Mile run. It’s going to be the 21st of April in 2019, it’s going to be in Arizona, and you know what? I’m working real hard to scare me up a scooter. I want to play in this one, folks. Alan, you be my witness…I’m casting about to find a scoot. Contingent on that, Amigo, count me in.

The Route 66 MSILSF route, scheduled for April 2019. I have got to find a ride…because I want to play in this game!
Part of the Route 66 itinerary for the April endurance event. I’m guessing this is somewhere near Oatman, Arizona.

If you would like more information, you can contact Alan directly at msilsf@yahoo.com. Hopefully, I’ll see you in Arizona next April!

Baja, 150cc at time: Part V

The trek south on our 150cc California Scooter Mustang replicas continues. On the off chance you haven’t followed this ride, here are the first four installments of this grand adventure.   I almost called it a mini-adventure, but only the bikes were “mini.”   Everything else about this ride was a full-bore adventure.   So, to bring you up to speed…

Part I:  Baja, 150cc at a time…

Part II:  Baja, 150cc at a time…

Part III:  Baja, 150cc at a time…

Part IV:  Baja, 150cc at a time…

And with that, we’re back on the road, with our little 150cc Mustang CG clones, built by CSC Motorcycles, thumping their way south yet again…

Here’s a shot of our bikes parked in front of the Las Casitas Hotel in Mulege (it’s pronounced Mool-a-hay). The Tropic of Cancer was just a few miles down the road.

After a great stay at the Las Casitas Hotel in Mulege (one of my favorite places in Baja), we were on the road again, headed south to Ciudad Constitucion, our stop for the next evening. The regions we passed through were amazing, but the riding was beyond brutal. September is one of the hottest months of the year in Baja, and we were riding in 100-degree weather.

We soaked our clothes several times that day. J had a bunch of water in 5-gallon jerry cans on his big Dodge Power Wagon, and we used a trick I learned in the Army a long time ago…we soaked ourselves and then put our jackets on. The jacket keeps the water from evaporating too quickly, and in this kind of weather, you can stay cool for about an hour before you need another soaking. It really works.

My riding gear. Joe Rocket gloves. They work. Don’t ask me how I know. My new Bell helmet. Lightweight, comfortable, and very, very cool. Everybody loved it. My Olympia riding jacket. Visible, and I’m still wearing it.

After Mulege, we continued south out of Mulege, and we soon found ourselves along what I believe to be the most beautiful part of Baja…and that would be Bahia Concepcion. I’ll let the photos do my talking here.

John’s California Scooter parked in front of Bahia de Concepcion on the Sea of Cortez.
The Sea of Cortez along the Transpeninsular Highway. The water really is that color.

South of Bahia Concepcion, we stopped in Loreto. It’s a nice town but it is a touristy spot. John and J got nailed for a couple of traffic infracciones, paid their fines, and we bolted.

We stayed the night in Ciudad Constitucion on the way down and on the way back.  It’s a pretty interesting town, but it is not a tourist spot (which is why I find it interesting).

This local motor officer on a 250cc Suzuki stopped us as soon as he saw our bikes. He knew they were new and different. I tossed him my keys and asked for the keys to his police motor. We both had a good laugh about that!

Ciudad Constitucion was celebrating the Mexican Bicentennial, as Santa Rosalia had been the day before, and they had an awesome fireworks display.   It was impressive.

We had dinner at a sidewalk restaurant in Ciudad Constitucion, and we ate at a plastic table with plastic chairs right on the sidewalk. It was a cool evening, the town was festive, and it was great. The green things in the photo are nopales, or boiled cactus (very tasty). The tacos were delicious, too.

Simon ordering his dinner: Dos tacos.
Yours truly flirting with the waitresses. Dos senoritas.

We were up early the next morning, and we continued our southward quest. We knew the next major town was La Paz, but we didn’t want to get into it. La Paz meant heavy traffic and more heat.

You might be wondering…what were these little 150cc Mustang replicas, and what were the original Mustangs?   Hey, if you want to know more about that, you can read that story right here

Original Mustang motorcycles. Click on the image to get to the story!

CSC Motorcycles no longer manufactures new Mustangs, but more often than not they’ll have a nearly new trade-in on the showroom floor.  If you have an interest in these born-again Mustangs, here’s a link to the CSC website.

To be continued…


Want to learn more about riding in Baja?   Check out the ExhaustNotes Baja page!

Baja, 150cc at a time: Part III….

So we’re back on the story about our trek to Cabo San Lucas on reborn Mustangs, the little CG clone 150cc hardtails.   We’re doing this story in installments.  This is the third, and if you are new the ExNotes blog, you might not have seen Part I and Part II.   My advice?   Take a few minutes and read them before continuing with Part III (this part of our ongoing 150cc adventure ride)…

Part I:  Baja, 150cc at a time…

Part II:  Baja, 150cc at a time…

And with that, I’ll pick up where I left off at the end of our Part II Colonet coffee stop.  After our coffee stop, we rolled on for another hour and stopped for breakfast. Here we were, in this little Baja restaurant, and they had wireless Internet access. That’s where I posted the first CSC blog entry on our Baja trip (and we wanted to keep moving, so it was short).

Check this out…Simon Gandolfi checking his email on my laptop!

What is the world coming to, though? Wireless Internet access in Baja.  I was surprised.   That trip was the first time I had Internet access in Baja.  I knew the peninsula was changing.

Breakfast was good, and after that, it was a short hop down to El Rosario to top off the tanks before climbing into the Valle de los Cirios. Our bikes climbed, and so did the temperature. I’ll bet we had a 60-degree temperature swing that day. It was right at about 100 degrees in the desert. September is the hottest month of the year in Baja.  Why make it easy?  We stopped several times to peel off our layered riding gear as the temperatures continued to climb.

Arlene, dropping layers and trying to stay cool.

When Catavina came into view, we decided to call it a day. We might have pushed on to Guerrero Negro, but there is literally nothing between Catavina and Guerrero Negro, and it’s another 140 miles or so down the road. Too hot, too far, and we didn’t want to ride after dark.

We had a lot of fun with Simon, and we quickly dubbed him “the world’s most interesting man.” Do you remember those Dos Equis commercials? You know…the ones where a guy holding a Dos Equis beer is proclaimed the world’s most interesting man…with descriptors like “he never uses lip balm” and “his mother has a tattoo that says ‘Son.’”  We really enjoyed getting to know Simon, and he most definitely is the world’s most interesting man. Before I left, someone gave me a list of “world’s most interesting man” descriptions he grabbed off the Internet, and I dribbled them out to our group as we journeyed through Baja. The one that got the best laugh was “Simon Gandolfi is the world’s most interesting man…he once called a psychic…to warn her.”

I grabbed this shot of Simon with his California Scooter in the Valle de los Cirios south of El Rosario. It’s one of my all time favorites.

Simon was also keeping a blog for his readers. Here’s an entry from Simon’s blog…

The bikes are small and pretty, surely an unusual description of a bike. Best of all they make people smile, not with scorn but with pleasure – as does watching your children play out in the yard.

The bikes were performing well. We had two current production bikes (mine and Arlene’s), and two preproduction bikes (Simon’s and John’s). During development Steve and the boys found a few improvement opportunities on the preproduction bikes, and these resulted in upgrades on the production bikes. Simon’s and John’s preproduction bikes have had some of the problems we found earlier, but the production bikes performed flawlessly.

We didn’t coddle the little Mustangs. We ran on some pretty rough roads, and the speed bumps (topes) in every little town we pass through were brutal. The Mexicans don’t just use one speed bump. They use about 20 of the things in a row, maybe 30 feet apart, one after the other. When they tell you to slow down, they mean it. We’d slow down for the speed bumps when we saw them in time (which didn’t always happen), and then we’d speed up after the topes. As I said earlier, the bikes liked running around 45 mph. We occasionally cranked them up to over 60 mph, but then we’d settle into a relaxed putt to enjoy the scenery and the ride. It’s a sweet way to see Baja.

Here’s another cool entry from Simon’s blog…

The desert here is a vast up-and-down jumble of immense gray boulders, candelabra cactus, Judas trees and skinny scrub. To the south and west lie mountains scrubbed to their stone core by a few million years of wind and occasional rain. To the east a long roll of cloud or fog lies low over the ocean. The dawn light washes the mountains a pale chalky blue. The cloud bank is touched with pink.

I have ridden on ahead. I haven’t met another car or truck in twenty minutes. Cut the engine and the silence is total. Two buzzard glide overhead. Nothing else moves. I am absorbed into the stillness and the quiet and the beauty and find myself shivering, not with cold, but with that exultation that comes sometimes when, tired yet wonderfully content, you get into a bed spread with Egyptian cotton sheets stiff from the laundry and wriggle in minor ecstasy as you clutch yourself in your own arms. Never done that? Never slept between Egyptian cotton sheets? How sad…

And if you have never visited Baja California, start planning. Right now this is about as close as you can get to heaven without a one-way ticket.

We rode into the Catavina boulder fields, one of the prettiest parts of Baja.  It’s a surreal region with huge white boulder and enormous Cardon cactus.

Headed toward Catavina.
You’ve seen this photo before. It’s another one of my favorites. I shot it from the saddle with my old D200 Nikon and 24-120 lens as we rolled through the Catavina boulder fields.
The Catavina gas station. No kidding.

Our destination that night was Catavina, where we would spend the night in the Desert Inn. It was a grand day and a great place to call it a night. I’d stayed there many times before on prior Baja adventures, and I knew it was good. The Desert Inn is nice. It’s 100 miles from anywhere.

The courtyard in Catavina’s Desert Inn Hotel.
Our bikes parked in front of the Catavina Desert Inn.

They turn the generators off from 12:00 to 4:00 at the Desert Inn, so there’s no electricity in the afternoon.  The desolation and the surrounding landscape just make it a cool place to be, even if was 100 degrees (as it was when we stopped that day). We ate in the Desert Inn’s restaurant, we sampled their Tequilas (hey, our riding was over that day), and then we hung out in the pool. Wow, that sure felt good.

To be continued…stay tuned for Part IV!


Want to learn more about riding in Baja?   Check out the ExhaustNotes Baja page!

Dream Bike: 1969 Kawasaki 500cc Triple

The 1969 Kawasaki 500cc Triple.

The ’69 Kawasaki Mach III 500cc two-stroke triple:  Wow!  It was a watershed wunderbike back in the days when the Big Four had serious engineering, the kind that went way beyond Bold New Graphics.  They were trying all kinds of mechanically wild and wonderful things then.  It was a magnificent time to start a motorcycle riding career.

Nicknamed the Widowmaker for its tendency to wobble and wheelie,  the Mach III was the fastest motorcycle of its era, its MSRP was under $1000, and it would whomp a Honda CB750 in a drag race.  I know because I was there.  I had a Honda 750 and my college compadre Keith had the Kawi triple.  I had a 50% displacement advantage and that extra cylinder, but it was to no avail. Keith cleaned my clock at every light.

Good buddy Gobi Gresh is all gaga on these bikes, so I guess that’s what induced my heightened sensitivity to the topic of all things two-stroke triple.  Yesterday morning a note arrived in my email from Motorcycle Classics (the gold standard of motorcycle magazines, in my opinion), and it mentioned an article on a Mach III restoration by Anders Carlson.  I sent it on to Arjiu knowing his perverted puttster predilections, he told me the story was really good, and I read it.  I agree.  I’ve never met Mr. Carlson, but let me tell you, the man can write.

Truth be told, I never wanted a Kawasaki Triple back then in any of the four flavors (I believe that as the line grew, they offered a 250, a 350, the original 500, and a 750 version).  Now, maybe having one would be cool.  I’d be a better man, I think, if I owned one.

I did my first international motorcycle ride ever with good buddy Keith back in the early ’70s.  Keith rode his ferociously fast 500 triple and I rode my Honda 4 from central Jersey to Montreal.  We were in high spirits, as might be expected.   We were two young guys riding our bikes to Canada.  Canada!  It would almost be like going to another country!  We were in engineering school back then, both of us were in Army ROTC, and it was a fun ride.  We joked that folks might think we were draft dodgers, heading to Canada and all.

We swapped bikes for a while somewhere in Vermont and I thought the Kawasaki was downright painful.  That bike could have been an enhanced interrogation tool before the term was invented. It felt like sitting a two-by-four plank.  The 500 triple was fast in a digital sort of way (full on, or full off) and I didn’t care for it.  My CB750 was a much more comfortable bike and it sounded the way I thought a motorcycle ought to.   You know, like an Offenhauser.  The Kawi sounded like a chain saw.

My buddy Peter had one of the Kawasaki 750 triples.  I didn’t know him then, but he told me a story about that bike going into a high speed wobble coming down California’s Cajon Pass (the result being one pitched Peter with a broken shoulder that bothers him to this day).   “I can’t tell you how many times I ran out of gas on that thing,” was his only other comment.  I guess it liked fuel.

Still, the Kawi two-stroke triples are iconic bikes, and the Carlson article I mentioned above is a great read.  If I was going to have a Kawi triple, it would be a white one with blue stripes (the original colors), just like Keith’s and the one you see in the photo above.

Dr. Dave!

Dr. Dave and his Yamaha!

Dave Reiss is another one of our good riding buddies and blogging friends who recently told us about a ride on his Yamaha Seca, proving yet again that you don’t have to sell the farm to have a grand motorcycle adventure.   Dave’s post is right here.  You’ll enjoy reading it.  We sure did!

The Atlantic Highlands…

New Jersey may not be a place you would ordinarily think of for a motorcycle ride, but I grew up back there and I’m here to tell you that you can have a good time on a motorcycle in the Garden State.   One of the rides I particularly like is along the Jersey shore from Pt. Pleasant to the Atlantic Highlands.  Once you’re in Pt. Pleasant, aim your front wheel north and do your best to hug the coastline.  It’s Highway 36 for much of that run (it’s called a highway, but it’s really a nice non-highway ride all the way up).   Your destination might be (as mine usually is) the Atlantic Highlands, Sandy Hook, and the Gateway National Recreation Area.

I have several recent photos from this area (I was there this past June), and rather than a long narrative, I thought I might simply share the captioned photos…

The view from Mt. Mitchill in the Atlantic Highlands, the highest point on the US east coast south of Maine. That’s the Manhattan skyline at the far horizon. The land across the bay is the actual “Sandy Hook.”
The 9/11 memorial atop Mt. Mitchill. The eagle is carrying an actual piece of I-beam from the Twin Towers. Everyone who lives around here knew people who died on that day.
Names of just a few who died in the Towers on the base of the 9/11 monument.
Another view of Sandy Hook Bay from Mt. Mitchell.
Sandy Hook Light, the oldest operating lighthouse in America. It was built in 1764, 12 years before American independence.
A Nike Ajax along Hartshorne Road, the entrance to the Gateway National Recreation Area, on the way into Fort Hancock.
The Nike Hercules air defense missile, directly across the street from the Nike Ajax shown above. These were a later missile, and they could be configured to carry a nuclear warhead.
Before Fort Hancock provided air defense for New York City, it used coastal artillery to protect the region from seaborne invaders. Some of these guns go back to the early 1800s.
Battery Potter, with steam-powered retractable hidden cannons. Sandy Hook was an early Army proving ground, and the advanced coastal artillery pieces hidden underground behind these walls were tested here. Boom boom!
Two young ladies checking out a hidden mortar base on Fort Hancock. The photo ops here are amazing.
An old Army building on Fort Hancock. Ah, the stories these places could tell…

And there you have it.   I like visiting New Jersey, and I never miss an opportunity to ride the Jersey shore.   I’m thinking it might make sense to keep a motorcycle back there.

Hmmmm…


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Baja, 150cc at a time: Part II….

To pick up where we left off, we’ll roll as far south as breakfast in Colonet in this blog.  This was to be our first full day on the road, headed south to Cabo San Lucas!

We trucked the bikes down to San Ysidro just north of the border, hopped on the little Mustangs and we were off, with J following us in the chase truck.  We had a spare bike in the back of the truck, and that’s when the fun began.  We went through the border and took off; J was stopped immediately.  Damn, we’re in the Tijuana traffic crucible, we lost J, and we didn’t have any telephone communications.  But we did have a plan.  Our rendezvous point in case we became separated was the Rosarito Beach Hotel, about 35 miles south of the border.

J was basically kicked out of Mexico as soon as he crossed the border because he didn’t have ownership documents and I guess the Mexican border agents didn’t want him bringing a motorcycle in the back of his truck into Mexico.  It just never dawned on me that this would be a problem.  Well, maybe it had…he had a letter from CSC authorizing use of the bike, but that wouldn’t cut it with the Mexican immigration folks.

Once he was back on the US side, J was able to reach the CSC truck by phone before it got too far north of the border.   J and the CSC guys moved the bike from J’s truck to the CSC truck, and J hotfooted it down to Rosarito Beach, where we had a great lunch.

Simon Gandolfi, Mustang rider, having an early lunch at the Rosarito Beach Hotel.

We rode through Ensenada, and then continued south into the northern Baja wine country.   It was grand.  Here we were, trekking south, on 150cc hardtail bikes, living large.   We stopped in Palomar to top off at a Pemex station, had a snack, and continued.

Yep, you read that right.  The CSC Mustangs were all hardtails.  The only suspension was in the seat springs.  Old school.  Cool.  You’d think our butts and back would take a beating, but that wasn’t the case at all.    Those seat springs did what they were supposed.  Surprisingly, at the end of the day we’d be feeling it in our wrists.  The handlebars weren’t rubber mounted on the Mustangs, and when the rear wheel hit a bump, the shock went directly to your hands.  But I digress.  Back to the main attraction…our trek south…

Our little 150cc California Scooters purred.  The bikes liked to run right at 45 mph. They just felt relaxed at that speed, and it’s about the perfect speed for riding on Mexico’s Transpeninsular Highway.  Here’s a bit more on the impressively-named Transpeninsular Highway.  Once you’re south of Ensenada, it’s a two-lane country road (one lane each way) that runs north and south (with lots of zigging and zagging along the way) for a cool 1000 miles, all the way down to Cabo.

A stop for fuel and a snack in Palomar, headed south on the Mustangs…

After the wine country, Mexico Highway 1 (that’s the Transpensular Highway’s numeric designation) winds through little farming towns.   In these little agricultural towns, the road is 4 or 5 feet higher than everything else. When you get off the road, you go down a pretty steep hill to get to the same level as the stores and other businesses, and there’s about a 30-foot dirt area between the street and the town on both sides of the street. People use this dirt area as sort of a parking lot and a street, so there’s traffic on the main road and the dirt areas on either side of the paved road. Which way the traffic flows in these dirt lanes depends mostly on…well, I don’t know. If I ever break the code, I’ll let you know.

We called it a night in San Vincente, and we checked into an inexpensive hotel (they’re all inexpensive down there). San Vincente was a hopping place that Friday night, which was a bit surprising to me.   What wasn’t surprising is that we were the only gringos in San Vincente.  That notwithstanding, we felt completely safe.  All the bad press in the LA Times in those days about Mexico being dangerous was bunk (“bunk” is a nice word for, well, you know).  There was so much bunk in the world back then about Mexico being dangerous that I sometimes wonder where it all came from. Is there a high-volume-production bunk factory out there I haven’t heard about?  The mainstream media, and the LA Times in particular, was hell bent on portraying Mexico as a war zone.  It’s not.

The point I’m making is that the Bajaenos are friendly, warm, and grateful that we visited this wonderful place. They had a double whammy down there…the recession, and the news media sensationalism painting all of Mexico as a terrible place. Not that San Vincente is a tourist area (it is not), but my sense of things is that the people we hung out with in San Vincente were glad to see us.

J waiting for tacos in San Vincente. The smile is real.  Good times.
J’s cabeza tacos.
Dinner in San Vincente. Wow, that was good!

Arlene and I wandered around a bit, checked out a couple of mercados (grocery stores), and we ended up at another little place that was cooking up a bunch of stuff. Folks were lined up and there were barstools at a makeshift counter.   All of this was outdoors.  Arlene and I had quesadillas (I had two, actually).  The guy who took care of us had this cool meat cooker that looked a lot like the ones I’ve seen in Turkey.  He was cool with it all and he seemed to be greatly amused that I was taking his photo.

Vinny and his brother, part of the San Vincente welcoming committee…

While we were enjoying the festive atmosphere and dinner, two young kids came up to us as I was savoring a real quesadilla (Taco Bell has no idea how good these are).  It was pretty obvious we were out-of-towners, and one of the boys slowly said to me in perfect, unaccented English “It is very good, isn’t it?” I told him it was and asked his name. “Vinny,” he said.   I took a flyer and asked if the other boy was his cousin.  “No, he is my brother,” he said.  Ah, okay. Not his cousin Vinny.  Too bad.  It would have added to the story.

We were up with the sun and on the road early the next morning, and it was cold.  I had checked out the bikes the night before and all were fine (oil, tire pressure, the standard big-road-trip-preflight-stuff for loose nuts and bolts, etc.).  I was surprised at how cold it was, because September is the hottest month of the year in Baja.  I guess nobody told the weather people, though.  Then the fog rolled in.  It was thick.  Not so thick that we couldn’t ride in it, but thick enough to soak my jeans and my gloves. We saw a coffee shop in Colonet and stopped for a caffeine fix.

Baja John, Mustang-mounted on a cold and damp morning in Colonet.  That’s the Transpeninsular Highway in the background.

I’ve done this run on big bikes many times previously and before we left I had a bit of trepidation about doing it on a 150cc motorcycle, but my fears were groundless.   The seating position on those little Mustangs was perfect for this kind of riding, and the ergos were about the same as a Harley Sportster.  Simon was surprised…he told me he felt the bike was extremely comfortable, and that it felt to him like a full-sized motorcycle (which is kind of what I was thinking).   And this was coming from a guy who rode a 125 cc pizza delivery bike to the southernmost tip of South America and back, and then rode another bike across the length of India.

After that great cup of Colonet coffee, our 150cc trek south resumed…

To be continued…

Juan in Colombia…

Good buddy Juan, who showed me a grand time riding in Colombia, recently posted this video.   I don’t speak Spanish, but I didn’t need to.  The riding scenes brought back fond memories of the Colombia adventure…

The video features a new AKT Motos bike.  AKT is a fine company; one of the four big ones manufacturing motorcycles in Colombia.  I know Enrique, the General Manager, and he was a most gracious host during our visit.   Good times.   I sure miss Colombia.

Janus Motorcycles

The ExhaustNotes post today has two videos, and both are from Janus Motorcycles.

Janus checks all of the boxes for us:  Small displacement, custom crafted, ultra-high quality, hand-built-in-America motorcycles.   What I found especially intriguing is that one of the Janus founders, Richard Worsham, rode his 250cc motorcycle across the United States.   That, my friends, is extremely cool (it’s downright inspirational, in my opinion).  It grabbed my attention because long trips on small-displacement motorcycles to demonstrate reliability is one of the things we did when I was at CSC Motorcycles.  It’s a brilliant strategy.

We’ll be telling you more about the Janus line in the future, but one of the things I’ll mention up front is that Janus uses an overhead valve CG-clone engine, which is probably the most-frequently-used engine on the planet.  My experience with these engines has been that they are bulletproof, and I say that because I’ve put tons of miles on them.   They’re easy to maintain, as they should be.  That’s what Honda had in mind when they designed the CG engine.

So, enough yakking.  Let’s get to the videos.  First, the ride across the United States…

And here’s another one about the Janus culture, and the inspiration for their motorcycles…

If you’d like more information on Janus, just give a click here.

Bill Murar: Distinguished Gentleman!

Bill Murar on a CSC 150 in the Lake Erie Loop!

That’s my good buddy Bill in the photo above, at speed, riding the Lake Erie Loop, a 600-mile scooter endurance rally.  I first met Bill shortly after starting the CSC blog.  Bill is a retired firefighter who is a serious Iron Butt rider, and he wanted a CSC scooter to ride in the Lake Erie endurance event back in those days.   We were only too happy to oblige.

Yesterday, I received a nice note from Bill, and I want to share it with you…

Joe:

I’ve just registered for the Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride, a fundraising motorcycle ride to help beat prostate cancer. You’re receiving this because you happen to be in my phone directory and because you know what a fanatic I am about riding. This year’s ride is on September 30th and, ironically, my birthday is on September 29th. Now, I know you were going to send me some kind of gift (nudge nudge, hint hint), but in lieu of that, I’d prefer that you make a nominal donation in my name for this great cause. Or, better yet, join me on the ride. To do either (or both) go to www.gentlemansride.com/fundraiser/WilliamMurar227980

Thanks,
Ride Aware,
Bill

Bill, that’s awesome!  Thanks for writing and we’re only too happy to post your request here on the ExNotes blog.   How about it, folks…let’s help Bill in this most noble cause!