Oh boy oh boy oh boy…another listicle! Our focus this time: The six worst folks to bring along on a motorcycle ride. Are you on this list?
Always Late
I can’t be around people who are late. If we say we’re going to leave at 7:00 a.m., then be there at 6:45. You know, in the Army we used to joke about the other services and their punctuality. In the Army, 0800 meant you were ready to go at 0730. In the Navy, it was something like 8 bells. In the Air Force, 0800 meant, you know, eightish, give or take. In the Marines, 8:00 a.m. meant Mickey’s big hand was on the 12 and his little hand was on the 8.
Hey, be on time. Better yet, be early. Buy a watch. Don’t make other people wait. Don’t be late. Ever.
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Too-Long-To-Get-Ready Richard
You know the guy I’m talking about. He’s the clown who takes 15 minutes to put his jacket, helmet, and gloves on. It’s almost like he needs someone to help him put his gear on. If you suffer from that disease, I’ll ride with you one time. Next time I’ll know better.
Rude Richard
I’ve ridden with a lot of folks on a lot of rides, and rides often involves stopping to eat. One character flaw I won’t tolerate is rudeness to the folks who work in restaurants. It’s just stupid, if you think about it. Why would you demean people who handle your food? But it goes beyond that…it makes me uncomfortable when another rider talks to the help like he’s a plantation owner. Restaurant people work hard, and they’re doing the best they can (just like the rest of us). One guy I rode with was a total horse’s ass, and to compound the felony, he wouldn’t leave a tip. I did (for me and for him), and while he was still putzing around putting on his riding gear, I left without him. For all I know, he’s still in that restaurant parking lot wondering where I went. On this topic of rude, this excerpt from Lonesome Dove says it all. Wait for Tommy Lee Jones’ last line. It’s a classic.
The Peloton Weenie
I am particular about who I ride with, and basically, if I haven’t ridden with you before, I’m not going to. Yeah, I’m old and I’m particular. What lights my fuse is the guy who thinks he’s in a peloton (you know, that’s the deal where the bicyclists ride within inches of each other). I don’t like people following me too closely, and I definitely don’t like anyone riding alongside me in my lane. Back off, Bucko!
Never Brings Enough Money
I had a friend like this I went to jump school with at Fort Benning. Let’s call him Dick. Dick rolled into the Benning School for Boys with the rest of us and didn’t bring any money. He was hitting us up at every stop to spot him a few bucks. I finally asked Dick how he planned to get through the three weeks of Basic Airborne. “I planned on borrowing,” Dick answered. You know, we were basically kids then, so I suppose I should make allowances for that Dick’s behavior. I can’t tolerate it in an adult. But we see it on group rides sometimes.
Ricky Racer
You know the type…every ride is a race. I won’t play that game, and if you want to slide through the canyons and pass on blind curves, that dot you see growing smaller and smaller in your review mirror is me, dude.
I don’t have anything against people who speed, unless they’re late, or they take too long to put their helmet and gloves on, or they’re rude, or they didn’t bring enough money for wherever we’re going, or they crowd me. If you want to treat every road like your own personal racetrack, you go on ahead. You ride your ride, and I’ll ride mine.
Did you recognize any of your riding buds on this list? Worse yet, did you see yourself in any of these description?
One of the things that always got a laugh when I worked in the motorcycle business were comments you’d hear from looky-loos who you knew weren’t going to buy (but they liked to act as if they were). These folks wanted to wax eloquent and sound like they knew what they were talking about. “If only they would (insert motorcycle feature here), I’d buy one in a heartbeat.” If only, indeed. They never did. My disdain for the above notwithstanding, I thought I’d play. You know: If only they would…and this time I’ll fill in the blanks. And with that as a starting point, here’s my specification for the perfect motorcycle.
1. Tank You Very Much
For me it would have to have a teardrop gas tank that actually is a gas tank (no underseat gas tank silliness on the perfect motorcycle). Something like the Bonneville or maybe the Enfield 650. Guzzi had the right idea, and maybe the new CSC 400 twin is righteous, too. Here a few perfect gas tanks:
Wow.Wow again.Wow selfified.
2. Wire Wheels, Please
I like wire wheels. I know that cast wheels have advantages, but I don’t care. I like spokes. Wire wheels are what my perfect motorcycle needs.
It’s the spokes, folks. Nothing else works for me.Can you picture this ivory classic BMW with cast wheels? Yeah, me neither. Notice the seat height, too. We’ll get to that shortly (pardon that pun).
3. Show Me The Motor!
I know fairings have advantages and I’ve owned a lot of motorcycles with fairings, but you need to be able to see the motor on a motorcycle. There’s something blatantly weird about faired motorcycles when you take the fairings off: They look like washing machines. I want to see the engine and I want to see fins. Lots of fins. And cables and chrome, too. If you want a sterile, all-the-ugly-stuff-hidden vehicle, buy a Prius.
The ancestor of all Facebook posters…get it? The Knucklehead?Fins. Tubes. Polished metal. It all works.Early excess…a Honda straight six CBX. I owned one of these for awhile. It was glorious. In a stroke of marketing genius, Honda didn’t hide the motor.Jay Leno’s 1936 Henderson. He bought it from a 92-year-old who was getting a divorce and needed to raise cash, or at least that’s what he told me.Perfection.
And while we’re talking about motors, let’s move on to the elephant in the perfect motorcycle conversation: Displacement.
4. Displacement: Less is More
114 cubic inches? 2300 cubic centimeters? That’s automobile territory and then some. As you-know-who would say in one of his rare lucid moments: C’mon, man.
BMW? Harley? KTM? Honda?
If you need something to give expression to your masculinity, buy a pickup truck or a Model 29. Or maybe a 458 Win Mag. For me, something up to maybe 650cc is good. Less would be better, provided it can meet all the other things in this dreamsheet spec.
5. The Paint
The paint has to be world class. Harley gets that right. Triumph had it right back in the day. Chome and paint works. So does pinstriping. Thank God that silly flat black fad passed. Nope, I like paint that looks good. Ever seen a jellybean Ducati?
Nobody will ever outstyle the Italians. This one is in the Doffo collection.
6. We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ LCDs or TFTs!
I don’t need to sit behind a NORAD computer display. I like two big analog dials; one for the speedometer and the other for the tach. The ’65 Triumph Bonneville had the right idea; the 750 Honda enlarged both and that was even better. Seeing those two big cans sitting just ahead of the handlebars works for me.
Speed and RPM: Is anything else really necessary?
7. Getting Gassed
I’d like a 250-mile range. I stop more frequently, but I’d like the bike to be able to go that far without the fuel light coming on, which I guess means the range needs to be even more than 250 miles. It drives me nuts when the fuel light starts blinking at just over 100 miles and I know there’s still another 50 miles or so left in the tank.
You meet fun people in Baja Pemex stops.
8. Southern Comfort
A comfortable seat is a must, but truth be told, if you spend all day, day after day on a motorcycle, I’ve never found any that are what I would call comfortable. If a motorcycle seat can just make the “not uncomfortable” threshold, I’m good. And although I almost never take a passenger on my bike, I’d like to have a bike that seats two.
Casual elegance in Xi’an 35 years ago. The right spot at the right time…what photography is all about.
9. Down and Dirty
You know, I don’t need a GS to go offroad. Neither do you. They’re too big, too heavy, and too tall. They look good at a Starbuck’s, but I’m not going to spend $5 for a cup of coffee. I remember back in the day (for me, that would be the 1960s) when we took Hondas and Triumphs and BSAs off road all the time and thought nothing of it. We didn’t call it “adventure” riding, either…we just called it riding. We didn’t need a marketing guy and a decal to make our bikes off road capable. I’ve even gone off road with a Harley Softail, although maybe that was taking things a bit far. I guess what I’m saying is I’d like a bike to be light enough and the seat height to be reasonable, and I’m good to go for any off road requirements that bubble up in my travels.
The FLH-AS in the salt fields of Guerrero Negro, B.C.S. “AS” stands for Adventure Scrambler.
10. Just Say No To Stratospheric Seat Heights
The seat height should not be higher than about 30 inches. An inch or two lower would be even better. I understand that mucho suspension travel is muey macho for some, but a lot of motorcycles have gone crazy. I don’t know anyone with a 37-inch inseam. I don’t know if there are enough basketball players to justify a motorcycle that most of us would need a step ladder to mount.
It’s on the AutoCad screens somewhere in Bavaria, you know.
11. Fat City
Weight should be under 400 pounds. It’s doable, guys. Some of today’s bikes are approaching a thousand pounds. That’s nuts. Under 400 pounds works for me; less would be ever better. If my motorcycle drops, I want to be able to pick it up by myself. The 1966 Triumph Bonneville my Dad rode weighed 363 pounds. If you’ve gotta have the Gold Wing, why not just go for the RV?
Yup.
12. Freeway Capable
We live in the age of the Interstate. Two-lane country roads are nice and they make for good advertising photography, but it’s not the 1950s anymore. Yeah, I try to enjoy back roads, but like everybody else, I get on the freeway when I want to cover big miles. A bike that can cruise comfortably at 75 or 80 mph has to be part of the spec. The funny thing is, you don’t need a monster bike to do that. Gresh and I rode across China on CSC 250cc motorcycles, and about a third of that was freeway driving.
Riding the freeways across the Gobi Desert. Note the two-abreast Chinese car carriers.Gobi Gresh on a Chinese interstate (or should that be interprovince?) highway.
13. What’s In A Name?
I’d be okay with some kind of alphanumeric quasi-military designation or a cool sounding noun, like Bonneville or Electra-Glide or MT06. The weird noun “INT” adorns my Enfield only because the Mumbai boys didn’t want to take on Honda (they should; Royal Enfield had an Interceptor way before Honda did). I’m okay with a Chinese motorcycle, but it would have to have a good name (Cool Boy won’t cut it here). The first RX3s in America had a tank panel emblazoned with Speed (hey, I can’t make this stuff up); I caught some online flak about that. I countered it by telling the keyboard commandos we wanted Methamphetamine, but the font became too small when we tried to fit it on the tank. BSA used to have great names, like Spitfire and Thunderbolt. Those could work. Here are a few others I thought you might like to see.
Nah. That won’t work.Nah, that won’t work, either.Yeah, maybe…The Docker. You could buy matching slacks. You know. Dockers.Like the candy bar. Sweet!Zarang me, Zarang me, they ought to take a rope and hang me…
14. Pipe Up!
A motorcycle has to be visually and aurally balanced. To me, that includes chrome exhaust pipes on both sides of the motorcycle (like you see on that gorgeous Norton in the big photo above, and in the Beezer below). Low pipes or high, either are okay by me. Back in the 1960s Yamaha had the Big Bear (now there’s a great name) with upswept chrome exhausts on either side of the bike and I thought that was perfect. Any of the ’60s British street twins were perfect, especially Triumphs and BSAs. Flat black stamped steel with flanged welds on only one side of the bike (like my KLR 650) are an abomination.
British chrome symmetry. We could learn a thing or two from that era.
And, of course, the ExhaustNote: The perfect motorcycle has to sound like the perfect motorcycle. That means a low rumble, but not something so lopey it sounds like a Harley, and certainly not something that sounds like a sewing machine or (worse yet) a small car. Think mid-60’s Triumph Bonneville. That is a motorcycle that sounds like a motorcycle.
So there you have it. Got comments? Let’s hear them. Post them here on the blog, and you’ll have a friend for life. And do a friend a favor: Click on the ads in this blog!
This blog started out as a snarky collaboration between dos Joes (Gresh and me) as a followup to the recent blog on 9 reasons why you should ride a Chinese motorcycle. One of the reasons we always hear about why you shouldn’t ride a Chinese motorcycle is that you can buy a used Sportster for what a new China bike costs, as if somewhere there is actually someone trying to make that decision. You know, a troubled soul asking himself: Should I buy a used Sportster, or a new Chinese motorcycle? We’ve got a bunch of witty one liners (at least we think they are witty) and I’ll get to them in a second. But before I do (and before all you macho Milwaukee muchachos get your chonies in a knot), you should know that I actually would like to have a used Sportster. Three, in fact.
The first is a 1977 or 1978 Harley Cafe Racer, one of the most beautiful motorcycles ever made. When these were first offered by Harley they retailed for about $3K. I was a young engineer at General Dynamics in Fort Worth, Texas, and I wanted one. But I couldn’t justify spending $3k on a motorcycle. I was single; I don’t know who I think I needed to justify it to. I should have bought one.
The next is the 1983 Harley XR1000, which we did a Dream Bikes piece on a couple of years ago. Man, I’d like to have one of those. The XR1000 was a stunning motorcycle. I’d call it visually arresting.
And the last one is a mid-60’s XLCH, preferably in blue or maybe red, like you see in the big photo up top of a restored bike. These sold for something like $1700 when they were new; I could have bought the one you see above for around $4,600 maybe three years ago. On the other hand, I saw a fully restored blue ’65 Sportster at the Long Beach International Motorcycle Show just before the pandemic hit and that one had a $20K price tag.
The used Sportsters listed above are the rock stars. There are also the not-so-exotic/not-so-collectable Sportsters. These are the ones that cost less than most new bikes but more than most used bikes. It’s a sweet spot, and to hear the folks who hate China bikes tell it, any used Sportster is a hell of deal. All righty, then…in keeping with the tongue-in-cheek nature of everything we write, here are our reasons why you should buy a used Sportster.
When you buy a used Sportster, you’ll spend less than you would on some new Chinese bikes (which, after all, is what started this blog).
When you buy a used Sportster, you’ll be helping the guy selling it get a Big Twin or a new Sportster.
When you buy a used Sportster, a lot of people on Facebook will think you’re smarter than the guys on ExNotes who keep bragging about Chinese motorcycles.
When you buy a used Sportster, you can hang out at Harley dealerships (the ones that are still open, that is).
When you buy a used Sportster, you won’t have to buy a vibrating chair (you’ll already have one).
When you buy a used Sportster, folks who don’t know anything about motorcycles will think you’re cool because you ride a Harley.
When you buy a used Sportster, you can gain weight big time and your Harley friends won’t call you fat because you’ll still be thinner than they are.
When you buy a used Sportster, you won’t have to ever shift into 6th gear.
When you buy a used Sportster, you won’t ever have to worry about not being able to find your 10mm socket.
When you buy a used Sportster, you won’t have to oil your chain (if you have a newer used one).
When you buy a used Sportster, it’s not likely you’ll ever get a speeding ticket.
When you buy a used Sportster, if you ride in flip flops and shorts no one will ever lecture you about ATGATT. In fact, they probably don’t even know what ATGATT means.
When you buy a used Sportster, you can wear Harley T-shirts. For a T-shirt company, Harley makes a nice motorcycle.
When you buy a used Sportster, you can watch Then Came Bronson reruns and not feel silly.
When you buy a used Sportster, if you just don’t feel like riding everyone will understand.
When you buy a used Sportster, you will help cut down the used Sportster inventory. The scarcity helps Janus sell more of their motorcycles because the 1200cc Sportster and the 250cc Janus are almost the same motorcycle performance wise.
When you buy a used Sportster, it allows you to say “I paid less than that for my used Sportster” when the cashier at McDonalds rings up your Happy Meal.
When you buy a used Sportster, if it’s old enough it will have a kick start. Kick starters are cool. Or, you could get a kick starter on a brand new TT 250, but hey, this is all about why you should buy a used Sportster.
So there you have it: 18 reasons why you should buy a used Sportster. If you have more reasons, we’d love to hear from you. Leave your comments here on the blog. We know a guy named Richard who always leaves his comments on Facebook, but don’t you do that (in other words, don’t be a Dick). Leave your comments here on ExNotes, like the cool kids do.
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