Category: Royal Enfield

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ballenos!

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

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

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

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

Joe and I had a great time.

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

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

Guerrero Negro!

Bump bump. Bump bump.

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

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

Sunrise over San Quintin Bay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Plucky Bullet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Royal Enfield 650cc Twin: First Real Ride

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

San Quintin!

My Bullet, loaded this morning at the hotel in Tecate. There’s a motorcycle under there somewhere.

We had a glorious ride today, from Tecate along the Ruta del Vino to Ensenada, and from there down the Transpeninsular Highway to San Quintin, which is where we are spending the night.  The weather has been perfect.  The Bullet, no so much so earlier, but I think we’ve got it wired now.  More on that in a bit.

Joe and I swapped bikes today, so I was on the Bullet and he was on the 650 Interceptor.   He’s in love with that 650, and it’s easy to see why.  The 650 is a home run for Enfield, I think.   Like me, Gresh is wanting to buy one, too.  But I’m finding I really love the Bullet as well.   Yeah, it was missing a bit, but like I said, I think we found and fixed the problem.   You know, it’s not an adventure until something goes wrong, and then a big part of the fun is figuring out what to do about it.  I’ll get to that shortly.

The photo ops along the Ruta del Vino were awesome, and we took advantage of them…

The Royal Enfield 500cc Bullet on Mexico Highway 3.
Uncle Joe hogging the Interceptor on the Ruta del Vino.
Dos Amigos reflected in an Enfield engine case.

Another cool thing….with all the rain we’ve had this winter, I’ve never seen Baja so green.  As we rode through the old wine country south of Ensenada, the green mountainsides were blanketed with bright orange wildflowers.  It really was quite a sight.  I didn’t get any photos of that, but I will on the return leg of this trip.

So, about that Bullet missing deal.  The bike only did it when decelerating and then accelerating, and it felt to me that it might be a clogged injector.  It doesn’t take much to mess with a fuel injector.   Gerry Edwards, my good buddy at Brown BMW, used to work on my RX3 and he’d always dose it with Lucas injector cleaner.  Gerry thinks the stuff is great, so Gresh and I found a Mexican AutoZone store in Ensenada and I bought some.   We put a little bit in and it didn’t really make a difference (if anything, it felt like the Bullet was missing more).   As we continued to ride south, I thought about what it could be and concluded it might be related to a spark plug.   We stopped at a Pemex station and pulled the plug.  What happened next was interesting.  The plug body looked like it had been arcing, but even more interesting was the way the sparkplug cap literally fell off the lead to it.  When we looked inside the cap, the screw that turns its way into the lead was covered with green corrosion.   Joe got a wire brush and cleaned the connector well, we put it back on, and the bike is running way better.   We’ll know for sure tomorrow when we pile on the miles to Guerrero Negro, but I think we’ve got it.  I felt a noticeable improvement as soon as we put it back together.

Pulling the Bullet plug. The Bullet actually has a pretty nice tool kit.
The spark plug cap.  The little green thing is the screw that screws into the spark plug wire.  It had corroded.   We’re pretty sure this is what was causing the missing, and we’re pretty sure we’ve got it fixed.

You know, you’d think that I’d not like a bike that’s missing, but I am loving that Bullet.  I love the vintageness (if that’s a word) of it, and I’m enjoying racking up the miles on a big single.  It’s cool.  It’s kind of a Lawrence of Arabia feeling, floating along at a steady 65 mph and listening to (and feeling) that big thumper thumping away.  I can’t really describe it, but I’ll think about the right words some more and give it another go in tomorrow’s blog.  I like it.  A lot.

I’m happy to report that the Old Mill Hotel in San Quintin is going strong, and they’ve opened a new restaurant (the Eucalipto).  We had a couple of beers after the bikes were put away (Lucia took good care of us), and then it was on to a fabulous dinner (Gresh bought!).

Lucy, the lovely young lady who brought us beer and dinner tonight. Life is good.
You have to wonder:  What is she thinking?
Seared tuna, as served by the Eucalipto. Like I said, life is good!
Uncle Joe Gresh, wiring analyst extraordinaire!
The 650 Interceptor, covered for its Baja jaunt by our favorite Mexico insurers, BajaBound!

Tomorrow, we’re headed through the Valle de los Cirios, and then Guerrero Negro.   Stay tuned, folks.   Good things are happening.

Tecate!

We had an easy run down the 15 freeway today, then it was the 805, then California’s magnificent SR 94 to a quick turn on the 188, and wow, Mexico!

Rolling up to the Mexican border in Tecate on a Royal Enfield 650. Wow!
…and, we’re there!

Joe and I processed through Mexican Immigration (we were the only ones there), and then it was a quick right to that fabulous restaurant I told you about a couple of weeks ago…the Malinalli Sabores Autóctonos.  It was an early dinner for us (we hadn’t had lunch) and it was fabulous.  We both ordered flautas and Joe grabbed a photo of my good friend Alicia with me…

Joe G, astounded by my flautas. We each had the same thing. The total bill was about $12. Incredible. I couldn’t finish mine.
Alicia, the proprietor. We’re having breakfast there tomorrow before we continue our trip south.

After that, it was a quick putt around town and we switched bikes.   I rode the 650 INT today and Joe was on the 500 Bullet.  Joe said he thought the Bullet was running rough.  I hadn’t picked up on that when I rode it yesterday, so I wanted to see if it felt funky to me.   I didn’t have any issues with the bike, but I wasn’t riding it at high speed all day like Joe was.  I’ll get my chance tomorrow for some extended high speed miles as we continue to roll south.   Sometimes these old big single cylinder bikes are easy to stall (I stalled it once or twice in town), especially thumping around in traffic when you’re trying to see the stop signs.    I think it’s fine.   There’s no question that the 650 is a much more refined bike than the Bullet, but I’m a happy camper with either one.

We stopped near a photo of the Tecate cerveza brewery and hung out downtown for a bit.  It’s cold here, but not nearly as cold as it was a few weeks ago when I did the Janus Baja run.

Tecate, Mexico. On Royal Enfields. Good times.
Near the Tecate town square. I wasn’t sure we could park there, so I asked a Mexican police officer and he told me we were good.
Uncle Joe, delighted to grab some seat time on the 650.

As walked around town, I saw a hot dog delivery dude (hey, I can’t make this up) on an Italika 150 and we had a good conversation.  He didn’t speak English, but Joe G speaks a little Spanish.  Joe’s Spanish wasn’t cutting the mustard, though (pardon the Oscar Meyer analogy), because our new friend called his girlfriend (who speaks English) and we had an interesting four-way conversation.   It was fun.

Riding, the universal language.

I was impressed as hell with the 650, but truth be told, I was even more impressed with the Bullet’s performance.  Joe took the lead on the 15 because he knew the roads to the 94.   That little Bullet is fast…he was cruising at 70 pretty consistently all the way down and there were a few times when he was touching an indicated 80.   And the 650…wow!  It’s smooth, fast, comfortable, and it handles very well.   I’ll tell you more about the performance of both bikes as the trip progresses.  I’ll be on the Bullet tomorrow and Joe’s riding the 650.   More to follow, folks.

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Snapshot!

So far I’m not meshing well with the 500cc Royal Enfield Bullet. I keep stalling the thing at stops and unless its pulling under load it hits and misses like a two stroke. Other times it runs flawlessly. Berk has ridden the thing and says it’s fine and that I don’t know how to ride a heavy flywheel, old fashioned motorcycle. Being the senior member of the Royal Enfield tour team he should know. Although, in my defense he stalled it twice. Berk is going to ride the 500cc single all day tomorrow and we will see if it’s me or the motorcycle.

The Bullet runs great on the highway, though, loping along at an easy 70 miles per hour. There is a bit of vibration but it seems like the faster you go the smoother it gets. I wound it up to 80-85 and it was remarkably smooth for an engine designed back when fuel was sold in one gallon tin cans at hardware stores.

Actually, that’s not true. This 500cc single is quite a bit different from the old 1950s Enfields. It’s unit construction for one. (Transmission and engine all in one case.)  It’s fuel injected and starts at the push of a button. Still, the Bullet wouldn’t raise an eyebrow if it was sent back in time to the Eisenhower era.

The Bullet gets astronomical gas mileage. Our freeway run from Los Angeles to San Diego netted 75 miles per gallon and I wasn’t sparing the throttle. On long uphill grades I’d whack her open in 5th gear and the Bullet would slowly gain speed, passing semi trucks like they were semi trucks.

I’ve only ridden the new 650cc twin around Tecate but what a sweet machine. It revs in a peppy, mouth-full-of-pop-rocks sort of way, the transmission is slick as a Yamaha’s and the steering is light. It lifts off the side stand easily and comes with a center stand. Mechanically, this motorcycle works.

I love the thing. I haven’t stared at it too long but I don’t see any glaring faults in the fit or finish. It fires up so fast and runs so smooth. The seat is long and seems comfortable, it’s almost like a Brat Bike seat except good-looking. The cropped front and rear fenders are adorable yet tough. How is that possible? Clutch pull is light and the action is perfect. Foot pegs are slightly back, the bars place you in a slight forward lean. The Royal Enfield 650 is a shiny orange piece of Moto-confection. If I wasn’t such a cheapskate I’d run out and buy one of the things.

Whoa…what am I saying? Buy a new motorcycle? I’m getting way over my head with this 650, let’s burn a few thousand miles into the odometer and see if I’m still madly in love with the Royal Enfield twin.

We’re off 2

We’re about to head off to Baja and if you would have asked me what new motorcycle I’d most like to ride I’da told you the new Royal Enfield 650cc twin.

A 650 twin is the perfect size motorcycle for any type riding you care to do. You can tour, scramble or bop around town like you own the joint.

Royal Enfield has nailed the styling on their (Interceptor?) and styling is 90% of a motor cycle for me. The other 52% is performance and we will see about that.

Berk has pulled rank and gets the first stint in the 650 relegating me to the 500cc Bullet single. Hey, that’s not a problem since I like singles more than twins.

Now, where can I strap that extra gas can in the Bullet?

We’re Off!

Joe Gresh arrived here at ExNotes Central late last night (after driving 850 miles in a single day), and it was good to see old Arjiu again (that’s Joe’s Chinese name, I’m Dajiu, and you can read all about how we picked up those names in Riding China).

We’re going to be on the road as you read this, and you can follow our adventure right here on the ExNotes blog.  If you missed the first few preparatory Enfield posts, here they are:

The Bullet hits home!
18 again!
BajaBound on Royal Enfield!

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