The Kingston Ride

My puppy had really cut into my riding this year so I'd been anxiously awaiting early June when Doug Lovelace and I were going to ride to a conference our organization co-sponsored in the lovely town of Kingston,Ontario.

We were anxiously watching the weather forecast as the date approached, but got very lucky.  It was a bit hot on the way up, with temperatures touching the low 90s, but certainly decent riding weather.  It was above the range for my beloved Roadcrafter riding suit, so I opted for a new AGV Topanga perforated leather jacket I'd recently  bought for warm weather rides.

The total distance from Carlisle to Kingston is about 400 miles with most of the way on I-81, but Doug and I decided to split the trip up over two days and take the scenic route.

On Sunday we went through some of my favorite Central Pennsylvania twisties, stopping for lunch in Lock Haven, taking a quick side trip to Hyner View State Park which overlooks the Susquehanna valley between Lock Haven and Renovo, and then hitting the Finger Lakes district of western New York.  After passing through Watkins Glen and miles of vineyards and wineries on the shores of Seneca Lake, we spent the night in Geneva, NY, a cute little town that is the home of Hobart and William Smith College.  After a long day in black leather, I did some serious re-hydrating at a pub near our hotel.



Hyner View State Park



The next day we scooted along the shores of Lake Ontario to Cape Vincent, NY, took a quick ferry ride to Wolfe Island (which is Canadian so we had to clear customs and immigration), rode across the island, and took a much larger ferry into Kingston.

After a couple of days at the conference (which was in a hotel right on the shore of the St. Lawrence River as it begins out of Lake Ontario), we headed back.  We decided to do the return in one day so our plan was to cross the St. Lawrence at the Thousand Islands Bridge, stay in I-81 for a few hundred miles, exit at  Cortland, NY, pass through Ithaca and Elmira, enter Pennsylvania on Route 14 and eventually pick up Route 15, which would bring us home, just north of Williamsport, PA.

While it rained the first day we were in Kingston, the weather on the return was even nicer than going up.  Everything was proceeding according to plan until Doug, who was in the lead, missed the exit at Cortland.  I had a few seconds to decide whether to follow him or stick to the route and I opted to take the exit.  With hindsight, this was a mistake. 

Once Doug noticed I wasn't behind him anymore, he backtracked looking for me.  After I exited, I pulled over and waited a bit for him but thought he had decided to just come all the way back on I 81, so I took off on the planned route.  He tried to call me but called my work Blackberry, which was packed, rather than my personal cell phone which was in my pocket.  As it turned out, Doug also took the planned route but was probably a half an hour or so behind me.  Once I got on to the "go fast" isolated rural roads in Pennsylvania, he was probably an hour behind me.

Despite this kerfuffle, it was a great ride.  We went through some lovely country, much of which I'd never seen before.  The bike and the new gear I'd bought for the trip--the AGV jacket, a new Frog Togg rain suit (which I didn't need), and an additional Ortleib dry duffle all functioned as they should.

Now I'm all excited about my upcoming Virginia/West Virginia ride.  Stay tuned.

American and European Motorcycle Cultures

I've been thinking about the difference between American and European motorcycle cultures as seen in both how and why people ride, and in the bikes and riding apparel they use. It seems to me that this is a result of the different origins of the two cultures. 

While motorcycles had been around in the United States for a long time, motorcycling really took off after World War II. Many returning veterans had a difficult time re-adjusting to civilian life after their wartime experience. They had developed a high risk tolerance and felt more comfortable in the company of other men in a rough setting rather than "polite society." So they gravitated to riding. Some of them even formed the motorcycle gangs that still exist today.  Riding was not a necessity--America was the land of cars--but a lifestyle choice.

The key was that riding a motorcycle was intended as an act of nonconformity to social norms or even outright rebellion. So the riders reveled in a tough image and disdain for personal safety.

This continues today. Many, perhaps most people in American motorcycle culture, centered around Harley--which at least since the 1980s has been absolutely genius at making motorcycling "bad" and respectable at the same time--see it as an act of nonconformity or rebellion.  While Harley as a company doesn't embrace criminal motorcycle gangs, it also doesn't distance itself from the segment of its customer base that takes on that look and demeanor--the motorcycle gang posers. 

This heritage and culture is the reason that Harley bikes  and gear tend toward retro design. It's the reason that a lot of Harley riders dress like a pirate. And it's the reason that Harley riders are significantly less likely to  wear a helmet and other full protective gear than people coming out of different traditions and cultures.  Taunting death and the rules of "polite society" are a deliberate part of the ethos even though it's a statistical fact that things like wearing full protective gear and taking coached safety courses dramatically decreases the chances of a crash.

The origin of European and Japanese motorcycling was different. People rode not as an act of nonconformity or rebellion, but because few could afford cars in the decades after the war, and because they traveled congested areas with narrow streets. Because motorcyclists relying on their bikes for basic transportation had to ride in all kinds of weather conditions, the bikes and the apparel had to be reliable and practical rather than a statement of rebellion.

One good example of this was Honda's advertising campaign when it was making a big dent in the motorcycle market in the 1960s: "You meet the nicest people on a Honda."  In other words, it was intended to be practical, convenient and fun, not "bad." College students--future attorneys, CEOs, and country club office holders--rode them

This idea continues today, particularly with European motorcycles and motorcycle apparel which concentrate on cutting edge technology, performance and handling, and safety rather than the traditional or retro look. You'll seldom see someone on a BMW, Ducati, or Triumph without a helmet and other protective gear, or with "ape hanger" handlebars (which have to be the single stupidest thing people do to motorcycles) or extremely loud mufflers or, even worse, straight pipes (which are kind of a pathetic scream for attention). People with European motorcycles are much more likely to ride through the winter rather than putting their bikes up.  And they're much more like to take coached safety courses even if they don't have to (I've taken six in five years of riding).

I don't intend this as a critique of American motorcycle culture or Harleys. While I've cast my lot with the European approach, I'm not suggesting it's somehow better or preferable. But I just thought it was interesting to lay out the origin of the differences between the two cultures.

Anniversary

This weekend marks my fourth year of riding. I have a bit over 70,000 miles under my belt with only a few low speed drops, most during the first couple of months. I head for Ontario next Sunday and hope to get video and photos, weather permitting.