Monday, July 23, 2007

Biker Buddies and Motorcycle Zen

Not long ago, Dan (biker buddy) introduced me to a little hole-in-the-wall diner named Shirley Mae's (I hope I have that spelling right). Stunningly good food, exceedingly generous helpings (Ms. Skald and I share a plate), and just the right ambience for a couple of bikers. It seems Dan's got a nose for eats, but more, he's got a poet's soul and he liked this blog's notion of Motorcycle Zen – so he couldn't help but send out a bit of a prose poem – here it is for your pleasure and edification:

About 2 years ago, I purchased a Royal Enfield Bullet 500 ES Classic - pure 1950's technology, built in India on 1950's machinery and tooling from Redditch, England. Of course this means that I need to spend time about every 100 miles checking all the bolts, wires, carb settings, etc. But I learned a lot about motorcycling with the wee bike. The only thing that did not thrill me was the max top speed of 67+-. Trucks kept making me nervous.

Then, a year ago I bought a Harley-Davidson motorcycle. A 2004 Fatboy: a Twin Cam 88B, fuel injected, internally balanced (less vibration), 88 cubic inch engine. Lava Red and only 8000 miles on her! Oh, the power when I got her out on the highway and opened up the throttle. She became my main commuter, carrying me the 34 miles one way to work, relegating the faithful little 4 cycle one-lunger to the occasional short ride around town.

But today, I got home and parked the Harley-Davidson and looked over at the Royal Enfield. That black paint and gold pinstripe called to me. I walked over, put the key in, turned on the fuel and kicked him over (yes, it's a him). Brruumm, poppapoppapoppapoppa. I got on and went for a spin. What a difference between the two. One, a big, heavy, fuel injected modern beast versus the other, a light, carbureted, single cylinder running on 1950's technology. No computer to deal with, no idiot lights if things go wrong. Just a 500 cc (32 cubic inch) thumper moving me down the road on a saddle between two tyres (they are Avons, so that is the correct spelling). Simplicity on a sunny, first-of-summer afternoon. Sorry Mr. Harley and you Davidson brothers, but Redditch tech wins today. I will be taking off for work about 30 minutes earlier tomorrow – the back roads are safer for the Enfield than trusting to rushing commuters on I-5.

Flatheads, knuckleheads, panheads and more – oldies worth riding… like Dan said, it's summer, and it's time to pick the June bugs, Mayflies, and love bugs out of our teeth and hair. Well friends, I'll meet you at the pub after the ride.

Stay free, ride hard.