Zongshen – Page 3 – The ExhaustNotes Blog

The War Wagon in Baja

By Joe Berk

I’ve traveled extensively in Baja and I want to get down there again as soon as possible. It’s the best riding on the planet, the food is amazing, the scenery is incredible, and the people are great. The whale watching is a religious experience. I know Baja is almost indescribably awesome and you do, too, if you’ve been there. When I talk about Baja with folks who haven’t been there, though, the question always emerges: Is it safe?

The short answer is yes. But one time, we came pretty close to it not being safe. On one trip out of many over the last 30+ years in Baja, Susie and I had a bad experience. I almost didn’t write this blog because I didn’t want to scare anyone away from Baja. I’ve been to Baja many times since, and I plan to keep visiting Baja.

The best bike for Baja…my CSC RX3 on the malecon in Loreto, BCS.

So, with that as an introduction, let me add a bit more. I was setting up the first CSC Baja expedition, with the idea being that we would offer free tours to Baja with the purchase of a CSC motorcycle. That idea worked fabulously well and we successfully ran the CSC tours for years, treating people to the ride of their life, selling a lot of motorcycles, and generally having an inordinate amount of fun. It convinced me that the RX3 motorcycle was possibly the best bike ever for exploring Baja, and I still feel that way. You may disagree, but hey, it’s okay to be wrong.

But I digress. To get back on topic, I hadn’t been to Baja in a while and I was taking a big group down, so Susie and I rolled south in my Subie on a pre-ride scouting expedition. With the intro stuff done, here’s the blog I wrote for CSC on that trip.

Susie and I are down in Baja scouting the locations for the Inaugural Baja run, and it sure has been an interesting two days. I didn’t have any Internet access in Catavina yesterday, but I have a spotty connection in Santa Rosalia tonight, right on the Sea of Cortez, and we’ll see how much of this gets through.

First, a few quick photos of our first couple of stops…

Rolling across the US border into Mexico…

Jesus, a giant statue on the way to Ensenada.

Breakfast in Velero’s in Ensenada…worth the trip into Mexico all by itself!

After we rolled through Ensenada, it was on through the mountains south and Baja’s agricultural district. Boy oh boy, did we have an adventure. All that stuff I’ve been telling you about how safe it is down here? Well, I still believe it, but my confidence (and Susie’s) was sorely tested yesterday. See that guy in the photo below? FYI, you’re not supposed to take photos at these roadblocks, and I want you to keep that in mind on our CSC Baja trip…but I never have done too well following rules. I’m talking about the infantryman talking to the car in front of us at our first military roadblock (one of many Puesto Militars) on the way down. He’s the dude standing to the left of the white car.

Well, things got very interesting after that. That photo was about 175 miles south of the border, just north of San Quintin, where we got caught in a mini-labor riot. Turns out the migrant workers down here are not happy with their wages on the farms. A lot of them come from mainland Mexico with their families, including their kids, whom they evidently put to work picking whatever crops they pick in the fields north of San Quintin. The Mexican government is clamping down on child labor, so that affects these people and they are plenty angry about it. Real angry, apparently.

One of the military checkpoint guys told us the road was closed (that dude in the photo above) about 80 km ahead but he didn’t speak English and he didn’t tell us why. I thought it was because they were working on the road, which happens frequently in Baja, and when that happens the road is closed for about 20 minutes. Then you can proceed. Happens all the time. Amazingly (based on what we found out a few miles down the road) that young soldier let the car in front of us proceed, and then he let us proceed.

About 30 miles later, we started seeing what we thought were small piles of asphalt on the road with lots of wires (you know, like for fixing potholes, which they have a lot of in Baja, but I couldn’t figure out what the wires were). We saw this for about the next 15 miles. We saw hundreds of people milling around, too; far more than I’ve ever seen in these little farming towns.

It turns out that we what thought were piles of asphalt were actually the remains of burning tires. As in “let’s light a fire and shut the main highway down burning tires.” The ag workers have been having demonstrations (actually, labor riots) in the San Quintin area, and we found out (the hard way) that this had been going on for 2 days.

We went a few more miles and encountered a roadblock (more burning tire remnants and boulders blocking the road) with about 50 men milling about who immediately surrounded us. They wouldn’t let us go forward or turn around. One of them threatened us and the Subaru with a 2×4. They were all over the car. Susie had the presence of mind to lock the doors. These guys were mad at the world, and we were the world at that instant. I didn’t know what to do, so I fell back on what always seemed to work elsewhere in the world: I asked the guy who seemed to be in charge if I could pay the toll to get through. He seemed genuinely surprised at that, he thought about it for maybe 5 seconds (duly observed by his subordinate seditionists), and then he realized this might be a viable alternative income stream (Sue designs and manages automated toll roads in the US; it seems to work for us). Our Mexican revolutionary said, “hokay,” I gave him a ten dollar bill, and he told the insurrectionists “let them pass.” Crisis averted. Whew!

The tire remnants continued for another 5 miles, but there were no more roadblocks. While we were stopped at the impromptu toll plaza, one of the seditionists keyed my car door on Susie’s side with initials, presumably the initials of their labor movement (LPS or something like that). I’ll guess I’ll get my body shop guy to repaint it when I get home. That little Subie is going to end up having more bodywork than Joan Rivers. A couple of months ago I dropped one of the RX3s into it. This week it was the Nuevo Mexican Revolution. I’m keeping the body shop business alive in California. Or maybe not. I might leave those initials there as a war wound. At the very minimum, I am re-christening the Subie. She’s no longer the Starship Subaru (sorry, Carl, that was a good moniker, but its time has come and gone). My car is now known as the War Wagon.

We found out from a busload of people in El Rosario (next town down the before getting into the mountains) that they expect the demonstrations to continue for a couple more days and then it should be over. One guy had his windows shattered, probably by the same guy we saw with the 2×4.

Folks, all the tourists down here (and there are lots of us) were talking about this. No one had ever experienced anything like it before, and most of us have been coming down here for decades. It’s a blip, and I’m guessing it is already over. It sure was exciting, though.

We continued south after that… and that meant it was time for a few more photos.

Mama Espinosa’s in El Rosario…great burritos!

At one point on our way to Guerrero Negro, I spotted several vultures fighting over a dead rabbit. Time to put the 70-300 on the Nikon and see how close I could get.

The Baja Department of Sanitation hard at work.

When you roll into Guerrero Negro, there’s a giant Mexican flag flying in front of a giant metal structure (an artist’s interpretation of the Mexican Eagle). You’re not supposed to take pictures here (it’s a military installation), but I still had the 300mm lens on the camera and I got sneaky.

That point is right on the 28th Parallel, which marks the border between Baja and Baja Sur (the two Mexican states in Baja).

You know, being anywhere near the 28th Parallel and not stopping for a fish taco or two at Tony’s would be a crime. I’ve been stopping at his truck for the last 21 years…every time I come down here. What’s cool about it is Tony always recognizes me, even though sometimes it’s a year or more since I’ve seen him!

My good buddy Tony Lopez, who is a fish taco chef extraordinaire!

Tony told me he’s been in business for 22 years. I bought my first fish taco from him 21 years ago.

We stopped in San Ignacio next and I grabbed a couple of photos of (and in) the mission there.

The San Ignacio Mission, built by the Jesuits in the 1700s…it’s still in use as a working church

One of the figures inside the San Ignacio Mission

That’s it for tonight, my friends. Time to sign off and get some shuteye. We’re headed south again tomorrow. Watch for more photos!

So there you have it. With more than three decades of exploring Mexico under my belt, this was my one negative Baja experience. I communicated the above to all the followers we had on the CSC blog and asked if they wanted to change the trip to someplace else here in the US, and everyone answered with a resounding No! We did the Baja trip with 15 or so riders, and we did several more CSC Baja rides after that. Every one of those trips was a blast. Here’s a video I prepared from the first CSC ride:

You can read more about Baja and our adventures down there in Moto Baja.

I made a lot of good friends on those Baja rides, many of whom still ride their CSC motorcycles and many of whom regularly follow the ExNotes blog. You’ve seen their comments here over the last four or five years.

To me, Baja is the best riding there is. If you’re headed into Baja, make sure you get insurance. It’s not likely you’ll need it, but the Mexican government requires that you be insured and your regular insurance won’t cover you in Mexico. The insurance provider we always go with is BajaBound.

Want more Baja content? You can find more ExNotes Baja stuff here.

The Casio Marlin

By Joe Berk

I’ve mentioned my Casio Marlin (also known as the Duro) a few times in previous blogs. I love this watch for any number of reasons: It’s accurate, it’s rugged, it’s waterproof, it’s comfortable, and it’s inexpensive. It’s a diver’s watch, but I’m not a diver. I just like the look of thing. I’ve worn it on a few big moto trips including the ride around the Andes Mountains in Colombia. It poured cats and dogs on that trip. The Marlin was unfazed.

At about $50, this watch has to be the deal of the century. Just for grins I grabbed a picture of the Rolex Sea Dweller and put it along side the Casio. If you own a Rolex don’t get your shorts in a knot ((I own one, too). But the comparison has to make you wonder: Let’s see, $50 for the Casio and $16,500 (or whatever it is these days) for the Sea Dweller (if you can find one and in today’s market that’s not easy). As Aristotle would say….hmmmmm.

Yeah, you can go a little deeper with the Rolex (they say down to 3,900 meters). My Casio says it’s good for 200 meters. That’s over 600 feet down. It’s not likely I’ll ever visit those regions and if I ever do I can guarantee you the time of day is not what will be on my mind.

I’ve owned my Marlin for about 10 years now. I think I’ve had to replace the battery twice. My guy charges me $3.25 to install a new battery (parts and labor). The strap got stiff and cracked, so I’ve replaced that once (I think it was $10). I checked and the cost of a replacement resin Rolex band is close to $300. On the other hand, the Rolex is self-winding, so it never needs a battery. Again….hmmmm.

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On that comfort thing…the Casio Marlin is about the right size for a man’s watch and the resin band is very comfortable. I always forget I have it on and on more than a few occasions I’ve gone into the water wearing it (swimming, showering, and most recently, almost being swept away in my Subaru going to the gun club). It doesn’t matter to the Casio. I’d say it’s indestructable, but some Internet weenie would want to get into a urinating contest about that.

Boarding the ferry in *Magangué* on the Magdelena River. Even there, the Casio’s good looks and functionality appealed to an onlooker.

When I rode Colombia with Juan and Carlos, one time we had to wait a couple of hours on a hot and humid afternoon for the ferry to come in and carry us down the Magdalena River to Mompos. While we were waiting in what little shade we could find in Magangué, a young Colombian boy came over and touched the Casio, nodding his approval. If I had another watch with me I would have given it to him. I still think about that on occasion and wish I had given it to that kid. I think when I bought my Marlin, they were $39. That young fellow most likely would have cherished the Casio the rest of his life (as I will). Maybe I need another ride in Colombia. If I go again I’ll throw an extra Marlin in one of the panniers. You know, just to be prepared.

More watches and more product reviews? You bet!

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The Wayback Machine: Why a 250?

By Joe Berk

This is a blog I wrote for CSC Motorcycles several years ago (time sure flies when you’re having fun). The topic was as timely then as it is today. I like big bikes, but I like small bikes more, and I’m convinced that a small bike makes way more sense than a big bike for real world adventure touring. I thought I would post the blog again, as we are having way too much fun with CSC, BMW, Janus, and other companies who have seen the light. Here’s the blog from way back.

A 250cc bike seems too small to many riders. Is it?

The motorcycle craze in the US really started in the mid-1960s. I know motorcycling goes back way before that, but motorcycling was essentially a fringe endeavor until Honda came on the scene. We met the nicest people on Hondas, if you remember, and that ad tagline was a winner (so is “Don’t Miss The Boat,” by the way). (Note: “Don’t Miss The Boat” was CSC’s tagline for the US RX3 introduction, and those who didn’t miss the boat participated in one of the best deals in the history of motorcycling.)

Honda’s sales model was a good one. They pulled us in with small bikes and then convinced us we needed larger and larger bikes. Many of us started with a Honda Cub (the 50cc step-through), we progressed to the Super 90 (that was my jump in), then the 160cc baby Super Hawk, then the 305cc Super Hawk, and at that point in about 1967 that was it for Honda. They didn’t have anything bigger (yet). After the 305cc Super Hawk, the next step for most folks was either a Harley or a Triumph.

Yours Truly, on a Honda Super 90 in the mid-’60s.

You know, back in those days, a 650cc motorcycle was a BIG motorcycle. And it was.

But Honda kept on trucking…they offered a 450 that sort of flopped, and then in 1969 they delivered the CB-750. That bike was so far out in front of everyone else it killed the British motorcycle industry and (with a lot of self-inflicted wounds) it almost killed Harley.

The Japanese manufacturers piled on. Kawasaki one-upped Honda with a 900. (Another note…it’s one of those early Kawi 900s that Gobi Gresh is restoring in the Zed’s Not Dead series.) Honda came back with a 1000cc Gold Wing (which subsequently grew to 1100cc, then 1500cc, and is now an 1800cc). Triumph has a 2300cc road bike. Harley gave up on cubic centimeters and now describes their bikes with cubic inches. And on and on it went. It seems to keep on going. The bikes keep on getting bigger. And bigger. And bigger. And taller. And heavier. And bigger. In a society where everything was being supersized (burgers, bikes, and unfortunately, our beltlines), bigger bikes have ruled the roost for a long time. Too long, in my opinion.

LBMC06-0 — Is this where it’s going? (Note: I shot this photo at the Long Beach International Motorcycle Show about 15 years ago.)

Weirdly, today many folks think of a 750 as a small bike. It’s a world gone nuts. But I digress…

I’ve done a lot of riding. Real riding. My bikes get used. A lot. I don’t much care for the idea of bikes as driveway jewelry, and on a lot of my rides in the US, Mexico, and Canada, I kind of realized that this “bigger is better” mentality is just flat wrong. It worked as a motorcycle marketing strategy for a while, but when you’re wrestling with a 700-lb bike in the soft stuff, you realize it doesn’t make any sense.

I’ve had some killer big bikes. A Triumph Daytona 1200. A Harley Softail. A TL1000S Suzuki. A Triumph Speed Triple (often called the Speed Cripple, which in my case sort of turned out to be true). All the while I was riding these monsters, I’d see guys on Gold Wings and other 2-liter leviathans and wonder…what are these folks thinking?

I’d always wanted a KLR-650 for a lot of reasons. The biggest reasons were the bikes were inexpensive back then and they were lighter than the armored vehicles I had been riding. I liked the idea of a bike I could travel on, take off road, and lift by myself if I dropped it. To make a long story short, I bought the KLR and I liked it. I still have it. But it’s tall, and it’s heavy (well over 500 lbs fully fueled). But it was a better deal than the bigger bikes for real world riding. Nobody buys a KLR to be a poser, nobody chromes out a KLR, and nobody buys leather fringe for a KLR, but if that’s what you want in a motorcycle, hey, more power to you.

More background…if you’ve been on this blog for more than 10 minutes you know I love riding in Baja. I talk about it all the time. My friends tell me I should be on the Baja Tourism Board. Whatever. It is some of the best riding in the world. I’ll get down there the first week I take delivery on my CSC Cyclone, and if you want to ride with me, you’re more than welcome. (Note: And I did. We did a lot of CSC Baja tours, and CSC introduced a lot of folks to riding and to Baja. That one innocent little sentence became a cornerstone of CSC’s marketing strategy.)

I was talking up Baja one day at the First Church of Bob (the BMW dealership where me and some of my buddies hang out on Saturday mornings). There I was, talking about the road to San Felipe through Tecate, when my good buddy Bob said “let’s do it.” Baja it was…the other guys were on their Harleys and uber-Beemers, and I was on my “small bore” KLR. The next weekend we pointed the bars south, wicked it up, and rode to San Felipe.

DSC_1629-650 — The Boys…bound for San Felipe with my KLR leading the pack

That was a fun trip. I took a lot of ribbing about the KLR, but the funny thing was I had no problem keeping up with the monster motos. In fact, most of the time, I was in the lead. And Bob? Well, he just kept studying the KLR. On Saturday night, he opened up a bit. Bob is the real deal…he rode the length of Baja before there was a road. That’s why he was enjoying this trip so much, and it’s why he was so interested in my smaller bike. In fact, he announced his intent to buy a smaller bike, which surprised everybody at the table.

Holding court on the Sea of Cortez. That’s Bob on the right.

Bob told us about a months-long moto trip he made to Alaska decades ago, and his dream about someday riding to Tierra del Fuego. That’s the southernmost tip of South America. He’d been to the Arctic Circle, and he wanted to be able to say that he’d been all the way south, too.

I thought all of this was incredibly interesting. Bob is usually a very quiet guy. He’s the best rider I’ve ever known, and I’ve watched him smoke Ricky Racers on the Angeles Crest Highway with what appeared to be no effort whatsoever. Sometimes he’d do it on a BMW trade-in police bike standing straight up on the pegs passing youngsters on Gixxers and Ducksters. Those kids had bikes with twice the horsepower and two-thirds the weight of Bob’s bike, and he could still out ride them. Awesome stuff. Anyway, Bob usually doesn’t talk much, but during dinner that night on the Sea of Cortez he was opening up about some of his epic rides. It was good stuff.

Finally, I asked: Bob, what bike would you use for a trip through South America?

Bob’s answer was immediate: A 250.

That surprised me, but only for an instant. I asked why and he told me, but I kind of knew the answer already. Bob’s take on why a 250: It’s light, it’s fast enough, it’s small enough that you can pick it up when it falls, you can change tires on it easily, you can take it off road, you can get across streams, and it gets good gas mileage.

Bob’s answer about a 250 really stuck in my mind. This guy knows more about motorcycles than I ever will, he is the best rider I’ve ever known, and he didn’t blink an eye before immediately answering that a 250 is the best bike for serious world travel.

It all made a lot of sense to me. I had ridden my liter-sized Triumph Tiger in Mexico, but when I took it off road the thing was terrifying. The bike weighed north of 600 lbs, it was way too tall, and I had nearly dropped it several times in soft sand. It was not fun. I remembered another ride with my friend Dave when he dropped his FJR in an ocean-sized puddle. It took three of us to get the thing upright, and we dropped it a couple of more times in our attempt to do so. John and I had taken my Harley and his Virago on some fun trips, but folks, those bikes made no sense at all for the kind of riding we did.

Upright in this photo, but it was like wrestling a pig in mud a few minutes earlier.

You might be wondering…what about the other so-called adventure bikes, like the BMW GS series, the Yamaha Tenere, or the Triumph Tiger? Good bikes, to be sure, but truth be told, they’re really street bikes dressed up like dirt bikes. Big street bikes dressed up like dirt bikes. Two things to keep in mind…seat height and weight. I can’t touch the ground when I get on a BMW GS, and as you’ve heard me say before, my days of spending $20K or $30K on a motorcycle are over. Nice bikes and super nice for freeway travel, but for around town or off road or long trips into unknown territory, these bikes are just too big, too heavy, and too tall.

There’s one other benefit to a small bike. Remember that stuff above about Honda’s 1960s marketing strategy? You know, starting on smaller bikes? Call me crazy, but when I get on bikes this size, I feel like a kid again. It’s fun.

I’ve thought about this long and hard. For my kind of riding, a 250 makes perfect sense. My invitation to you is to do the same kind of thinking.

So there you have it. That was the blog that helped to get the RX3 rolling, and CSC sold a lot of RX3 motorcycles. Back in the day, CSC was way out in front of everybody on the Internet publicizing the Zongshen 250cc ADV bikes, and other countries took notice. Colombia ordered several thousand RX3s based on what they saw CSC doing, other countries followed, and things just kept getting better and better. The central premise is still there, and it still makes sense. A 250 may well be the perfect motorcycle.

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The Wayback Machine: That’s Not How We Do It In China

By Joe Gresh

See that gap? That narrow space between the semi-truck hauling 20-foot long, 6-inch diameter solid aluminum rods and the BMW M6? I’m taking it, man, riding the horn button and twisting the throttle: zoom-zoom. See that intersection? The one with a whirlpool of scooters, three-wheeled single-cylinder diesel trucks and at least a hundred cars spinning left leaving eddys of pedestrians lapping at the edges? I’m a Hurricane Hunter riding straight into the maelstrom buffeted from side to side, tip-toeing around, swerving, cussing, sweating and focused, man, focused.

China’s city traffic requires all your intensity, taxes all your ability and is like nothing I have ever seen on the planet. There is no respite. There is no pause, You must lock on and track hundreds of individual trajectories from every point on the compass, constantly. Insane traffic scenarios unfold at a lightning pace, there’s no time to marvel at the stupidity. There’s only time to act.

The chaos is cultural: Chinese motorists drive like they’re riding a bicycle because they were only a few years ago. In less than one generation the Chinese have gone from pedals to 125cc Honda clones to driving millions of air-conditioned automobiles on surface streets designed for a sleepy agricultural nation. At any given moment dozens of traffic rules are being broken within 50 feet of your motorcycle. It’s a traffic cop’s dream.

Except that there aren’t any. For a Police State there are not many police in China. I’ve ridden entire days and not seen one Po-Po. My Chinese friends tell me the police show up for collisions but otherwise stay low-key. Because of this hands-off approach stop signs are ignored. Red lights mean slow down. You can make a left turn from the far right lane and no one bats an eye.

China uses the drive-on-the-right system but in reality left-side driving is popular with large trucks and speeding German sedans. Get out of the way or die, sucker. Painted lane-stripes are mere suggestions: Drive anywhere you like. Of course, sidewalks and breakdown lanes are fair game for cutting to the front of the cue.

China’s modernization process has happened so fast that the leap from two-wheeled utility vehicle to motorcycles as powersports fun never really occurred. In China there are millions of people riding motorcycles but relatively few motorcyclists.

If the cars don’t get you there are other strange rules that serve to dampen the popularity of Chinese motorcycling as a hobby. Motorcycles are banned on most major toll ways between cities. Law-abiding motorcyclists are shunted off to the old, meandering side roads. Which would be fun if they weren’t so infested with heavy, slow moving semi-trucks and near certain construction delays. In practice, since tollbooths have no ability to charge motorcyclists, Chinese riders blow through the far right lane, swerving to avoid the tollgate’s swinging arm. Ignore the bells, shouting and wild gestures of the toll-takers and roll the throttle on, brother.

Being banned from the highway is not a deal breaker, but being banned from entire cities is. In response to crimes committed by bad guys on motorcycles many cities remedied the problem by eliminating motorcycles altogether. Sales of new motorcycles in these forbidden cities is non-existent.

Rules designed to discourage motorcycling abound. Vehicles over 10 years old are not allowed to be registered, thus killing the used and vintage scene. Gasoline stations require motorcyclists to park far from the gas pumps and ferry fuel to their bikes in open-topped gas cans. Add to that the general opinion of the public that motorcycle riders are shifty losers too poor to afford a car.

So why do Chinese motorcyclists bother to ride at all? It’s not the thrill of speed; 250cc is considered a big bike in China and it’s really all you need to keep up with the slow moving traffic. I’ve spent a lot of time with Chinese riders and even with the language barrier I get that they ride for the same reasons we do: The road, the rain, the wind. After being cooped up in a high rise apartment (very few Chinese live in single-family homes) I imagine the wide-open spaces between crowded cities must seem like heaven. They did to me. Chinese motorcyclists and Low Riders ride a little slower, taking long breaks to smoke a cigarette, drink in the scenery or just nap. Every motorcyclist you meet is instantly your dear friend because we share this passion and despite all the minor regulatory hassles everybody knows love conquers all.

More epic motorcycle adventures? You bet!

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An Electrifying Development: CSC’s RX1E Motorcycle

Imagine an electric motorcycle that doesn’t look dorky, one that looks like a an ADV bike, with a fit and finish rivaling anything in the world. Before you go all “Ahm a real ‘Murican and yer not” on me, I’m here to tell you this: You don’t have to imagine this motorcycle. It’s real and I rode it. It’s quick and it feels light, and the thing handles. And yes, it’s from China. If that gets your shorts in a knot, move along…there’s nothing for you here.

The bike is the new RX1E from CSC Motorcycles in Azusa, and it’s manufactured by Zongshen. That’s Zongshen, as in million-motorcycles-annually Zongshen. I’ve ridden Zongshen motorcycles all over Colombia, all over China, all over Baja, and all over America, and I’ve been in their factories many times. You may know a guy who’s cousin worked for a guy who thinks Chinese bikes are no good; my knowledge is more of a first-hand-actual-experience sort of thing.

The RX1E looks a lot like an RX3. It’s got the ADV style. I think it is an exceptionally attractive motorcycle. Some folks may wonder why the bike is styled like an ADV bike. Hey, it has to be styled like something. The ADV style has good ergos and good carrying capacity, so why not use that as the styling theme? Just to check, I parked it in front of Starbuck’s, you know, like the big kids do with their BMWs, and it worked just fine.

The motorcycle has an 8 kilowatt motor (with 18.5 kilowatt at peak power), but the kilowatt thing for an electric motorcycle is misleading. This motorcycle is quick. I opened it up getting on the freeway and the bike blew through 70 mph before I realized it. It had more left, but I ran out of space. It’s silent, and you hit speeds you don’t mean to because there’s no noise to go with the acceleration. Think of it as the opposite of a Harley: No noise at all, and lots of acceleration.

It’s not going to be inexpensive, but it’s inexpensive compared to other electric motorcycles. CSC is going to sell a lot of these.

The time for a full recharge, per the CSC folks, is 6 hours. CSC opted for a more powerful charger to get the recharge time down.

It comes with a full set of luggage, crashbars, a windshield, and a cool dash. You can fit a full face helmet in the tail pack.

The RX1E is water cooled. Yep, you read that right. The Zongshen wizards use water cooling with a radiator to keep motor temps down.

The dash is cool, and you can change the color theme. I liked it. It was a little difficult to read in sunlight, but CSC tells me that will be corrected by the time the bikes are released for sale in a few months (I rode the first one to arrive in America).

The bike has three modes: Eco, Comfort, and Sport. Eco saves energy, Comfort is kind of in the middle, and Sport gives snappier acceleration. Think of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

Switchology is superior, in my opinion. Here’s a peek at the left and right sides. Yep, there’s cruise control, reverse, mode setting, high beam and low beam, the horn, turn signals, a park position, and a kill switch. It’s a logical, well thought out, and quality presentation.

The bike doesn’t have that squirt out from under you feeling that other electric bikes have off a dead stop. CSC’s City Slicker had a little bit of that. The Zero I rode a couple years ago had way too much of it…so much so I found the Zero difficult to ride. The RX1E is much more rider friendly.

The bike has disk brakes front and back and ABS. There are cast aluminum wheels. The final drive is via belt. There’s no messy chain, nothing to oil, and it’s quiet. I like it.

The fit and finish are awesome. It’s as good as anything I’ve seen on any motorcycle anwhere in the world. The one I rode was red (it’s the one you see in the pictures here). I saw a Harley chopper and stopped to ask the owner if I could shoot a photo of the the RX1E next to it. He was good to go, and I grabbed the shot you see below.

The RX1E ergonomics felt perfect to me. The seat is comfortable, the reach to the bars was perfect, and I could put both feet flat on the ground.

CSC shows the bike’s weight to be 469 pounds, but it felt way lighter to me. That might be because the weight is down low on this bike. Or maybe I’m just used to my Enfield, which feels way heavier. Whatever it is, the bike feels light. The RX1E has high flickability.

The lack of any noise takes some getting used to. It was unnerving at intersections. On an internal combustion engine motorcycle, the noise makes you at least think other people can hear you. The silence of an electric motorcycle makes you wonder if they see you. Maybe that’s a good thing; it made me even more of a defensive rider than I normally am.

There’s no shifting, and because of that there’s no clutch and no shift lever. Oddly, the lack of any need to shift felt perfectly natural. Not having a clutch lever on the left handlebar when coming to a stop takes a little getting used to.

The bike has a reverse. It doesn’t need one. It felt so light and the seat is so low that backing up the old-fashioned way is easy…you know, sitting on the bike and using your legs to back it up a hill. Yep, I did it.

The turning radius is delightfully tight. I don’t have a spec for this, but I can tell you that u-turns in one-lane alleys are easy. I know because I did it.

CSC tells me the range is about 80 miles, although the spec below says 112 miles. I haven’t tested the bike for range like I did on the City Slicker because I only played around in town for an hour or so. Good Buddy TK, the sales dude at CSC (who may be the world’s only sales guy who never stretches the truth), has been commuting back and forth to work on the bike and he tells me the 80-mile range is real.

The RX1E impressed me greatly. If reading this blog gives you the impresssion that I really like the RX1E, I’ve done my job as a writer. CSC and Zongshen have hit a home run here. Zongshen’s engineering talent and CSC’s ability to see what the US market wants is impressive.

Spoiler alert: Knowing people in high places has its advantages. I used to be a consultant for CSC, and CSC advertises on the ExNotes site. But that hasn’t influenced what you’re reading here. My friendship with the CSC owners got me an early ride on the RX1E (a scoop, so to speak) and a chance to see the specs before anyone else, which we’re sharing here. They’ll be on the CSC website today or tomorrow.

CSC RX1E Specifications

Motor: Liquid-cooled permanent-magnet
Peak Power: 24 hp (18.5kW)
Torque: 61.2 lb-ft (83Nm)
Battery: Lithium-ion 96-volt, 64Ah
Battery Capacity: 6.16kWh
Charger: 110-volt
Input Current: 15A
Range: 112 miles based on New European Driving Cycle (NEDC)
Frame: Tubular steel
Rake & Trail: 27°, 74mm
Wheelbase: 55.5 inches (1400mm)
Front Suspension: 37mm inverted telescopic fork, 4.7 inches travel, adjustable for rebound damping
Rear Suspension: Monoshock, 4.3 inches travel, adjustable spring preload and rebound damping
Front Brake: Two-piston caliper, 265mm disc
Rear Brake: Single-piston caliper, 240mm disc
Wheels: 17-inch aluminum
Tires: 100/80-17 front; 120/80-17 rear
Length: 82.2 inches (2090mm)
Width: 34.0 inches (865mm)
Height: 47.4 inches (1205mm)
Seat Height: 30.9 inches (780mm)
Ground Clearance: 6.0 inches (150mm)
Curb Weight: 436.5 pounds (198kg); 469 lb with luggage and crash bars
Max Load: 331 lb (150kg)
Top Speed: 75+ mph
Colors: Crimson Red Metallic, Honolulu Blue Metallic and Silver Moon Metallic
Price: $8,495 (plus $410 dealer prep, documentation, and road testing fees) and if you order the bike now, CSC is offering $500 off with delivery in Spring 2023

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Glendora Ridge Road

Glendora Ridge Road is one of the best kept secrets in southern California, offering 12 miles of well-maintained, low-traffic twisties nestled in the San Gabriel Mountains. And it’s not just 12 miles…it’s 12 miles with 234 curves (I counted them) through some of the most beautiful country imaginable. The striking thing about this road is its simultaneous desolation and nearness to civilization. Glendora Ridge Road is only 45 minutes from downtown Los Angeles. It’s only 10 minutes from my front door. Given its magnificence and nearby location, you’d think I’d ride it every day. I don’t, but I should.

Glendora Ridge Road is a glorious ride, and it’s been a favorite ride for me ever since I arrived in California. It’s hard to believe just how good it is and just how much of a change it offers between what most folks think southern California is and pure wilderness. Like I said above, it starts just 10 minutes away from my home. Ride it and you enter a different world. When I rode it last week, I saw two other vehicles on the entire ride. One was a single-cylinder dual sport; the other was a red Ducati. That’s it: Just two vehicles, and both were motorcycles.

As is the case with many mountain paths, Glendora Ridge Road began life as a dirt road many decades ago. Situated high up in the Angeles National Forest, asphalt came to Glendora Ridge Road in the 1970s. There’s no centerline for most of its length, which requires extra care in navigating its many tight blind corners. Glendora Ridge Road attracts motorcyclists, bicyclists, and the odd sports car or two. We also get some ricky racers in modified Honda Civics and the like up in the San Gabriels, so caution is in order.

Yikes! In the spring, you’ll see these guys looking for lady spiders at dusk. They say they’re harmless. I’ll take their word for it.

Glendora Ridge Road runs directly through one of the premier wildflower spots in America (the colors are surreal during April and May when the flowers are blooming…purples, reds, yellows, oranges, and more). Glendora Ridge Road also borders the San Dimas Experimental Forest, a 32-square mile research area. I’ve seen deer, fox, bobcat, bear, tarantulas, and snakes up there. I grabbed the tarantula shot above one evening in the pre-digital days with a 35mm Minolta and a 28mm lens. I had to get right on top of the spider to get that shot. I held the camera maybe six inches or so above it, only to later learn those things can jump 10 inches straight up!

I’ve ridden Glendora Ridge Road on virtually every motorcycle I’ve owned in the last 40 years. We used to do a lot of company rides with CSC Motorcycles, and everyone loved it. The RX3 is a perfect motorcycle for this ride. We once did a winter ride when the road was iced over. We rode it anyway.

The photo opportunities along Glendora Ridge Road are awesome. These days, I’m down to one motorcycle, and that’s my 650 Enfield. There are a lot of good spots for getting advertising quality photos on Glendora Ridge Road, and I took advantage of a few. Glendora Ridge Road has several areas where the cliffs and overhangs provide shade, so even on a bright day you can get great shots without harsh shadows

I pick a motorcycle based on how I know its colors will photograph. I chose wisely, I think.

On Glendora Ridge Road, looking north. It really is this scenic. I had the road and the San Gabriels to myself. The great Mojave Desert lies on the other side of those mountains.

Glendora Ridge Road runs roughly east to west (or west to east, depending on which way you travel). I like riding this road in the early morning or at dusk, as it makes for a more interesting ride (fewer folks, and the wildlife is more active.) In the morning, it’s best to ride in a westerly direction to keep the sun out of your eyes, and vice versa at dusk. The road’s curves make it tempting to go faster than you should, but my advice is to keep a relaxed pace. Many of the corners are blind, and you never know if there’s a squid pushing too hard coming the other way.

Just as you enter Mt. Baldy Village, the sign for Glendora Ridge Road appears on the left (if you’re not looking for it, you may miss it). You’ll only climb about a half-mile before you hit Cow Canyon Saddle. It’s a neat place to get a feel for the length and breadth of the valley skirted by Glendora Ridge Road. There’s a dirt road on the other side of that valley, but it’s not open to the public (the dirt road runs about eight miles to an abandoned tungsten mine). After running west for exactly 12 miles (and as mentioned above, no fewer than 234 curves), you arrive at the intersection of Glendora Ridge Road, Glendora Mountain Road, and East Fork Road. Glendora Mountain Road meanders down into Glendora. If you turn right to take East Fork Road, it continues on to Highway 39 above Azusa. The intersection of these three roads is a popular meeting spot where riders stop to talk and take in the view. On clear days in the winter, you can see the Pacific Ocean and Catalina Island.

Always a good idea. This photo shows Glendora Mountain Road heading up into the San Gabriels.

My choice for the return home on this most recent Enfield ride was Glendora Mountain Road. It’s equally scenic and a little shorter ride back. My arthritis was bothering me a bit and even though I was having a great time, my shoulder was reminding me I’m not 17 years old anymore. It was a good ride down out of the mountains. There are places on Glendora Mountain Road where you can see Highway 39 and the reservoir above Azusa, as shown in the photo below.

This is a photo stitched together from four photos in PhotoShop. The road at the base of the mountains on the other side of the reservoir is Highway 39, which runs south to Azusa. CSC Motorcycles is located not too far from the notch in the mountains on the left side of this photo.

So there you have it: Glendora Ridge Road, one of So Cal’s best kept secrets. If you’re looking for a great ride, this is it. If you’re up there and you see an old guy on an Enfield nursing his left shoulder, give a wave.

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Coming up…more good stuff!

We’ve got a bunch of cool stuff coming your way in the next few weeks.

I’m working on a detailed tutorial on how to time a revolver…it’s my beloved Model 60. It seems the more things go south on that old war horse, the more I love it. This time, the revolver went out of time (that means it’s firing with the chambers misaligned with the barrel), and the way to correct that is by fitting a new hand. That’s the piece you see in the big photo above, showing the well-worn 60-year-old original hand on the left and a new one on the right (the hand is the part that advances the cylinder for each shot). Good times. Did I mention I love that gun?

I’ll be on a bunch of secret missions in the next few months. I’m visiting Janus Motorcycles in the next few weeks and I’m going to ride their new Halcyon 450. You may remember I rode with the Janus guys in Baja three years ago (wow, those three years went by quickly). The Janus trip was a hoot and I was blown away by the quality of these small motorcycles.

I’ll be in Gettysburg soon…four score and seven years ago, and you know the rest. Gettysburg was the turning point, and the bloodiest battle of the Civil War. I’m looking forward to the photo ops, and you’ll see the Nikon’s output right here.

And another: Hershey, Pennsylvania…an entire town blanketed in the aroma of good chocolate, streetlights that look like Hershey kisses, calories galore, and tasty treats. That will be a sweet ride!

Folks love listicles. There are a dozen or so reasons why a Timex is as good as a Rolex. That one will generate a few comments, and we’ll be bringing them to you here.

How about the Indianapolis Motor Speedway? You’ll see it right here on ExNotes. Good stuff. Yep, we’ll be there, too.

Bill’s Bike Barn…yet another vintage moto museum. Never heard of it? Well, you will!

More gun stuff? Absolutely. Fine walnut and blue steel. I’ve got a cool story about the most beautiful stock I’ve ever seen on an absolutely incredible .257 Weatherby Magnum Ruger No. 1.

Look for a follow up on the Shoei helmet Gresh wears these days…it’s in the mix, too.

A road trip to New Mexico, and that means a visit with Joe 1 (or is he Joe 2?) and another video or two. Gresh has a bunch of motorcycles. Maybe I’ll borrow one and he and I will go for a ride. Who knows?

And more rides on my effervescent and exciting Enfield, one of the best bargains in biking (we’ll have a listicle coming up bargain bikes, too). Now that the left-leaning evil time suck (i.e., Facebook) is in the rear view mirror, I have lots more time. I’m doing what the Good Lord intended, and that’s riding my motorcycle and writing about it.

Stay tuned.

Chongqing!

Other than good buddy Arjiu (that would be Joe Gresh), I’m guessing most of you have never been to Chongqing. Chongqing is home to China’s motorcycle industry and it was the starting point for your two blogmeisters’ putt across the Ancient Kingdom. I enjoyed that ride enormously. Gresh and I had some fantastic times.

I first visited Chongqing and Zongshen as a consultant to CSC when we used Zongshen’s 250cc engine in our Mustang replicas. One thing led to another, and before too long CSC was Zongshen’s exclusive North American importer, and CSC introduced the RX3 to the US. I was blown away by Chongqing, the people, the size of the city, the photo ops, the cuisine, and more. I’ve been there many times and I’d go back again in a heartbeat.

Good buddy Fan shared this video a few days ago, and I knew I had to share it on the blog. Pro tip: Hit the little button on the bottom right of the video (after you start it) to view it full screen. It’s impressive.

You can be a China hater all you want. I know more than a few people over there I call my friends. Yeah, the world is going through some shaky times right now, but that’s not the Chinese people and it’s for sure not the guys I know. I like the place.

If you want to know more about our trip across China, pick up a copy of Riding China. There’s a link here on the blog. And take a look at our Epic Rides page, where we have links to posts about that ride.

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Baja Breakdowns

I’ve ridden motorcycles through Baja probably 30 times or more over the last 30 years, and it’s unquestionably the best place to ride a motorcycle I’ve ever experienced. Many people are afraid to venture into the peninsula for fear of a breakdown. Hey, it happens, but it’s not the end of the world and it doesn’t happen often. They don’t call it adventure riding because it’s like calling for an Uber.

Not all “breakdowns” result in your motorcycle being nonoperational. Some are just mere annoyances and you truck on. A few breakdowns result in the bike not running, but there are usually ways to get around that. When it happens, you improvise, adapt, and overcome. Here are a few of mine.

Heritage Indeed

The first time I had a motorcycle act up was on my beloved ’92 Harley Softail. It started clanging and banging and bucking and snorting somewhere around Ensenada. I was headed south with my good buddy Paul from New Jersey. It was obvious something wasn’t right and we turned around to head back to the US. The Harley got me home, but I could tell: Something major had happened. The bike was making quite a bit of noise. I had put about 300 miles on it by the time I rode it back from Mexico.

A roller lifter that converted to a solid lifter.

One of the Harley’s roller lifters stopped rolling, and that turned it into a solid lifter. And when that happened, the little wheel that was supposed to rotate along the cam profile started wearing a path through the cam. And when that happened, the metal filings migrated their way to the oil pump. And when that happened….well, you get the idea. My 80-cubic-inch V-Twin Evo motor decided to call it quits after roughly 53,000 miles. It happens I guess. Nothing lasts forever.

Here’s where it started to get really interesting. My local Harley dealer wouldn’t touch the bike. See, this was around 2005 or so, and it seems my Harley was over 10 years old. Bet you didn’t know this: Many Harley dealers (maybe most of them) won’t work on a bike over 10 years old. The service manager at my dealer explained this to me and I was dumbfounded. “What about all the history and heritage and nostalgia baloney you guys peddle?” I asked. The answer was a weak smile. “I remember an ad with a baby in Harley T-shirt and the caption When did it start for you?” I said. Another weak smile.

An S&S engine in my ’92 Softail. It let me ride a slow bike fast.

I was getting nowhere fast. I tried calling a couple of other Harley dealers and it was the same story. Over 10 years old, dealers won’t touch it. I was flabbergasted. I tried as hard as I could, but there was no getting around it…the Harley dealer would not work on my engine. It was over 10 years old. That’s that; rules is rules. For a company that based their entire advertising program on longevity and heritage, I thought it was outrageous. A friend suggested I go to an independent shop. “It’s why they exist,” he said. So I did.

So, I went with Plan B. I took the Harley to a local independent shop, and they were more than happy to work on my bike. I could have the Harley engine completely rebuilt (which it needed, because those metal bits had migrated everywhere), or I could have it rebuilt with an S&S motor. I went with the S&S motor (the cost was the same as rebuilding the Harley engine), doubling the horsepower, halving the rear tire life, and cutting my fuel economy from 42 to 33 mpg.

Justin’s Countershaft Sprocket

On the very first CSC Baja trip, I was nervous as hell. The CSC bikes had received a lot of press and the word was out: CSC was importing the real deal, a genuine adventure touring motorcycle for about one sixth of what a GS 1200 BMW sold for in those days. The naysayers and keyboard commandos were out in force, badmouthing the Chinese RX3 in ways that demonstrated unbridled ignorance and no small amount of bias. And here we were, taking 14 or 15 guys (and one gal) who had bought new RX3 motorcycles that had literally arrived in the US just a few days before our departure. There was one thought in my mind as we headed south from Azusa that morning: What was I thinking? If the bikes started falling out on this first trip, it would probably kill the RX3 in America.

Hey, it worked. Adapt, overcome, improvise. The adventure doesn’t start until something goes wrong.

I need not have worried. None of the engines failed. We had a few headlights go out, but that’s not really a breakdown. And then, when we were about halfway down the Baja peninsula, I took a smaller group of riders to see the cave paintings at Sierra San Francisco. That trip involved a 140-mile round trip from Guerrero Negro into the boonies, with maybe 20 miles of that on a very gnarly dirt road. As we were returning, good buddy Justin’s RX3 lost its countershaft sprocket. We found it and Justin did a good enough MacGuyver job securing it to the transmission output shaft to get us back to Guerrero Negro, but finding a replacement was a challenge. We finally paid a machinist at the Mitsubishi salt mining company to make a custom nut, and that got us home.

On every Baja trip after that, I took a spare countershaft sprocket nut, but I never needed any of them after that one incident on Justin’s bike. Good buddy Duane had a similar failure, but that was on a local ride and it was easily rectified.

Jim’s Gearbox

Four or five Baja trips later, after we had ridden all the way down to Mulege and back up to the border, good buddy Jim’s transmission wouldn’t shift.

That’s the only breakdown I ever experienced anywhere on an RX3 that wouldn’t get us home, and that includes multiple multi-bike Baja trips, the multi-bike 5000-mile Western America adventure ride, the multi-bike 6000-mile ride across China, the 3000-mile circumnavigation around the Andes Mountains in Colombia, and quite a few CSC local company rides. One of the guys on that Baja ride lived in the San Diego area and he owned a pickup truck, so he took the bike back up to Azusa for us.

Biting the Bullet

A couple of years ago Joe Gresh and I did a Baja road test with Royal Enfield press bikes. One was the new 650 Interceptor twin (a bike I liked so much I bought one when I got home); the other was a 500 Bullet. The Bullet was a disaster, but it really wasn’t the bike’s fault. The dealer who maintained the press fleet for Royal Enfield (I won’t mention them by name, but they’re in Glendale and they’re known for their Italian bikes) did a half-assed job maintaining the bike. Actually, that’s not fair to people who do half-assed work (and Lord knows there a lot of them). No, the maintenance on this bike was about one-tenth-assed. It was very low on oil, it had almost no gas in it, the chain was loose and rusty, and on and on the writeup could go. The bike kept stalling and missing, and it finally gave up the ghost for good at the Pemex station just north of Guerrero Negro.

Joe Gresh, inflight missile mechanic extraordinaire, getting intimate with the Bullet in Baja. “The Bullet needs me,” he said.

Fortunately for me, Gresh had one of those portable battery thingamabobbers (you know, the deals that are good for about 10 battery jumps) and it allowed us to start the bike. We bought a new battery that didn’t quite fit the bike in Guerrero Negro (big hammers solve a lot of problems), but the entire episode left a bad taste in my mouth for the Bullet and for the Glendale Ducatimeister.

That bike had other problems as well. The kickstand run switch failed on the ride home, and Gresh did an inflight missile mechanic bypass on it. Then, just before we made it back to my house in So Cal, the rear sprocket stripped. Literally. All the teeth were gone. That was another one I had never experienced before. The Bullet was sort of a fun bike, but this particular one was a disaster. We joked about it. The Bullet needs me, Gresh said.

John’s Silver Wing Leak

Ah this is another motofailure that tried but didn’t stop the show. On one of my earlier Baja forays, Baja John had a Honda Silver Wing. That’s a bike that was also known as the baby Gold Wing (it had all the touring goodies the Gold Wing had). It was only a 500 or a 650 (I can’t remember which) and it had no problem keeping up with the Harleys (but then, it doesn’t take much to keep up with a Harley).

Baja John and the mighty Silver Wing, somewhere well south of the border.

The Silver Wing was a pretty slick motorcycle…it had a transversely-aligned v-twin like a Moto Guzzi and it had plenty of power. Unlike the Guzzi, the Silver Wing was water cooled and that’s where our problem occurred. John’s bike developed a coolant leak. I was a little nervous about that. We were more than halfway down the peninsula and headed further south when the bike started drooling, but John had the right attitude (which was not to worry and simply ignore the problem). The little Silver Wing was like a Timex…it took the licking and kept on ticking, and to my great surprise, it simply stopped leaking after another hundred miles or so. I guess it doesn’t really count as a breakdown.

John’s KLR 650 OPEC Bike

Baja John had another bike, a KLR 650, that developed a fuel petcock leak on another one of our Baja trips. As I recall, it started leaking on the return run somewhere around El Rosario. I get nervous around fuel leaks for the obvious reasons, but John stuck to his policy: Don’t worry, be happy.

We stayed in a hotel in Ensenada that night. The hotel had an attached enclosed parking structure, which immediately started to smell like the inside of a gas tank. Not that I’ve ever been inside a gas tank, but that parking garage pretty much had the aroma I imagine exists in such places.

John’s luck continued to hold, and we made it home without John becoming a human torch.

The Bottom Line

The bottom line is you basically need four things when headed into Baja:

- - A tool kit.
  - A good attitude that includes a sense of adventure.
  - A well maintained motorcycle.
  - Maybe some spare parts.

So there you have it. If you’d like to know more about riding in Baja, please visit our Baja page and maybe pickup a copy of Moto Baja.

If you’re headed into Baja, don’t leave home without BajaBound Insurance. They are the best there is. If you are nice, they might even fix you up with a cool BajaBound coffee mug!

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Zion National Park

Zion. The name implies something of biblical proportions, something religious or heavenly. It’s easy to understand that’s what the Mormon settlers thought when they entered this area in the mid-1800s. One of the crown jewels of the National Park system, Zion may be as close to heaven as you can get without a one-way ticket.

I’ve visited Zion many times, and I’d go back again in a heartbeat. Living in So Cal, Zion is only a day’s ride away. I’ve been there in cars and many times on motorcycles ranging from 250cc Chinese imports to Big Twin Harleys. My strong feelings for Zion are personal: It was the destination of my first big motorcycle trip. My riding buddy and departed friend Dick Scott suggested Zion back when we were going through our Harley phase (a phase most of us passed through), and it was beyond beautiful as we rolled into the park on Utah State Route 9. Zion exceeded anything I could have imagined; I remember feeling like I was riding into a Western painting. It has this effect on everyone with whom I’ve ever visited the Park. That big photo above? That’s Mr. Tso, a very likeable visitor from the Peoples Republic of China who rode with us on the CSC Motorcycles/Zongshen 5000 Mile Western America Adventure ride (a publicity effort that sold more than a few RX3 motorcycles worldwide).

Riding into Zion National Park, peering over the windshield. It’s almost a religious experience.

Nestled where the Mojave, the Great Basin and the Colorado Plateau meet, Zion requires adjectival adeptness to even approach an accurate description. Pastel pink mountains, verdant vegetation, electric blue skies and emerald pools combine with abundant wildlife to create a surreal collage of seemingly endless picture postcard scenes. As national parks go, it’s small, but the scenery is absolutely over the top. I’ve been to a lot of places on this planet, and I can state with certainty that Zion’s beauty is unsurpassed. The wildlife add to the experience. On one of the CSC rides (the Destinations Deal ride), we hit what I thought was traffic and had to stop in one of Zion’s tunnels. I was frustrated until I lane split to the front of the line and found that the delay was caused by a group of bighorn sheep majestically and casually crossing the highway in front of us. They were magnificent, and no, I did not get a photo.

Stopped by a bighorn sheep herd, with my fellow Zongers in the rearview mirror.

Taking in the splendor that is Zion, this group of riders is stopping to takes photos.

Tony, who is finding Zion to be a bit different than the Peoples Republic of China.

The folks who know about such things think the first humans inhabited Zion a cool 12,000 years ago, hunting local game including woolly mammoths, camels and giant sloths. As these critters were hunted to extinction, the locals turned to farming and evolved into an agrarian culture known as the Virgin Anasazi. The Paiutes moved in when the Anasazi migrated south, and then the Mormons settled alongside the Paiutes in the mid-1800s (that’s when the area received its biblical moniker). Archeologists are still finding evidence of these earlier civilizations. These earlier folks were moving into Zion around the same time that the indigenous peoples were creating the cave paintings in Baja.

A wide-angle photo of SR 9 winding through Zion National Park.

One of the tunnels through Zion’s mountains along Utah SR 9.

The Great Depression brought great change in the 1930s, and Franklin Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corps built roads and added upgrades to make the park more accessible. The Virgin River cut deeply through sandstone to create magnificent channels and impressive geologic formations, and the CCC work made these areas easier to reach. For most people, a visit to Zion is to see the sights from the valley floor, but you can also take a half-day excursion up the western edge of the park on Kolob Reservoir Road. From there, you can look down into Zion for a completely different and equally magnificent perspective of the area.

Good buddy Rob, Willie, and more on a ride through Zion National Park.

Let’s talk about the ride — more superlatives are in order here. From any direction, you’ll know you are approaching a magical area. Antelope. Deer. Brilliant blue skies. Magnificent forests. Stunning mountains; it’s all here. From Southern California, you’ll experience tantalizing two-wheeled treats as Interstate 15 cuts through the canyons carved by the Virgin River. Riding in from Arizona’s Grand Canyon region southeast of Zion, the roads are similarly magnificent. And if you’re riding in from Bryce Canyon National Park to the northeast, well, you get the idea. This is one destination that has to be on the bucket list.

An easy ride from southern California…just take I-15 north and exit at Utah SR 9.

Zion National Park is an easy one-day freeway ride from southern California. Grab Interstate 10 East, then I-15 North through Nevada into Utah, to Utah Route 9 East (as you see in the above map). From the south, pick up State Route 89 North in Flagstaff and watch for the signs where Route 89 crosses 9 West before Mt. Carmel, Utah. From the northeast, it’s I-70 West and grab the exit for Route 89 South.

Looking up from the floor of Zion National Park. In Zion, you are mostly in the canyons looking up.

As mentioned above, unlike Bryce Canyon or the Grand Canyon (two National Parks in which you look down into the rock formations), at
Zion you are in the canyon looking up. For a different Zion perspective, take the Kolob Reservoir Road from the north to see things looking down into Zion. Check weather conditions first, as the road climbs to over 8,000 feet and may be impassible during the winter months. Kolob Terrace Road begins in Virgin, Utah, about 13 miles west of Springdale. Look for the sign to the Kolob Reservoir.

If you’re looking for a good place to eat, Casa de Amigos Restaurant in Springdale, just before you enter Zion from the south, is a good spot (the shredded chicken burritos are my favorite). It may be a victim of the pandemic, as Google indicated it was closed temporarily. If you enter Zion from the east, Mt. Carmel is the last town before you reach the Park and there are several restaurants and hotels there.

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If you would like to learn more about our 5000-mile christening ride through the American West on Chinese 250cc motorcycles, pick up a copy of 5000 Miles At 8000 RPM.