Tag Archives: motorcycle

Vacation, 2026

by
Reply

I’ve been on vacation this past week. I didn’t really plan it out, because I’ve been dealing with some health issues, but I knew I wanted to revisit the White Mountains on the motorcycle, which means I had to book the trip with an eye on the weather.

It’s turned out to be a wet week. We had rain last Sunday into Monday. The forecast called for rain ending Monday, some scattered showers Tuesday, fine on Wednesday, and more rain in New Hampshire on Thursday. So, while I’d hoped to do a four day trip beforehand, I settled for three days, leaving Monday and coming back on Wednesday.

Monday

Monday morning started with light rain, but the rain stopped by the time I left the house around 11:30. The jacket I bought last fall came with a rain shell, so I put it on, but it turned out to be mostly unnecessary. I made surprisingly good time through Boston, then headed north on I-93 until Plymouth, and then switched over to Route 3 until I reached Route 112, which becomes the Kancamancus. I just love that road. Today, it was cloudy and overcast, with clouds wafting over the mountaintops.

Clouds over the mountains in the distance, trees in the foreground
View from Kancamancus overlook, showing clouds in the distance

I was tempted to take Bear Notch Road into Bartlett, but I had a 9 AM ticket for the Conway Scenic Railway the next morning, and wanted to scout out a place in North Conway for breakfast the next day. I was disappointed to find that the place I’d gone last year was closed, but did find that the Rise and Dine Bistro right off the main street in North Conway would be open. After determining that, I spent a little time bopping around North Conway before heading to Attitash, where I was booked for the next two nights. 

After a day in the saddle, I’d been looking forward to spending some time in the hot tub. My back was comparatively better than it had been the year before, but it was still a little sore. So after a quick dinner, I spent some time soaking in the jacuzzi by the pool.

Tuesday

Tuesday morning I’d booked a 9 AM trip on the Conway Scenic Railway’s Mountaineer, which runs from North Conway along the side of Willy’s Mountain to Crawford Notch. When I’d done it before, I’d booked a Comfort Class ticket, which is a reserved seat in the main coach. This time I booked a Observation Dome Class ticket, which puts you in an exposed clear dome at the top of the train. It’s nice, but not necessarily $68 nicer.

One of the things I’ve been dealing with all summer is recurring low level nausea. (Yes, it’s been checked out, and no, there doesn’t seem to be anything horrible going on.) Some days it’s fine, other days, it’s been bothersome. It flared up again this week, and I’d been concerned the day before with throwing up inside my helmet. This morning, I was trying to balance the need to have something to eat vs feeling queasy. In the end, I ordered pancakes, and was shocked to see the biggest pancake I’ve ever seen on my plate. It was very good, but there was no way I was going to be able to eat the whole thing. I managed to get about a third of it down before heading across the street to the station.

When I boarded, I slipped into the first empty seat I spotted, and realized about 30 seconds too late that I should have picked a seat on the other side — the right side is very definitely better than the left on the Mountaineer. Still, my table companions, Dennis and Patricia, were pleasant company, and it was a nice trip up to Crawford Notch, where we were able to get out. You do switch sides for the return trip, so we had the scenic side for the trip back.

The Observation Dome is great for looking out, but not so wonderful if you want to take pictures, due to reflections. Eventually, I found the trick was to position the phone — this is the first trip I’ve done where I left the Nikon at home — fairly low on the window where the reflections are less. You can also look directly along the top or rear of the train and see along the direction of travel.

Huge, partly eaten pancakeNorth Conway Station in the overcastLooking backwards from the domeMountain and valley from the dome

This week was largely improvised, but one of the things I was thinking about was taking the Mount Washington Cog Railway up Mount Washington. The problem was whether I could get from North Conway after the Mountaineer returned to the station, up to the Cog’s base station in time for their last trip of the day. Siri seemed to think it could be done in less than an hour, but I’ve learned its estimates aren’t always reliable. I was also feeling slightly queasy, and wasn’t sure I wanted to. But we got back to North Conway, and I decided to give it a go, heading west along Route 302. I do like that road on the motorcycle, and was able to get up there in ample time to buy a ticket and nibble at a muffin and have a cup of coffee before it was time to leave.

The last time I’d ridden The Cog, in 2008, most of the locomotives were the old steam locomotives. Now, they still run a few steam trips during the week, but most of their trips are done via biodiesel engines, which permit faster and more frequent service, and don’t send plumes of coal smoke into the mountain air.

Unfortunately, like the Conway Scenic, The Cog uses assigned seats, and like the Conway Scenic, there is a good side and a bad side of the train, and I ended up on the bad side, so most of the view was of trees until we cleared the tree line.

The startling thing about The Cog is the incline — average is over 25%, with a maximum of 37% over Jacob’s Ladder. The steam engines have inclined boilers, in order to keep the steam tubes within the boilers under water; the stations along the way up, although level, appear crazily canted from the trains.

Cog train approaching the base stationSign for Jacobs LadderTop of the mountainObservatory and visitor center in the distance

It was mostly clear at the base station, but as we climbed the mountain, you could see clouds and fog wreathing the mountain tops. When we reached the top, you could see the clouds moving in; by the time the returning train arrived at 4:30, the top of the mountain was socked in.

We had about an hour layover at the top. There is a visitor center at the top, with a museum describing the wild weather conditions, and the work of the weather observatory. We weren’t able to go into the Observatory, but I was able to walk around the top. Unfortunately, my phone’s battery had drained during the course of the day and I wasn’t able to take as many pictures as I’d liked.

The return train arrived shortly after 4:30, its headlight shining through the fog. Once it pulled into the station, it loaded up for the last trip down of the day. As we descended, we emerged back into sunlight. Soon we were back at the base station, and I hopped back on the motorcycle for the trip back to Attitash.

Wednesday

Wednesday was a motorcycling day. The plan was to ride back along the Kanc, and then south along Route 3 until Laconia, or thereabouts. I started the day once again at the Rise and Dine, then headed south onto the Kancamancus, into Lincoln, then followed Route 3 south. This stretch of Route 3 is really nice on a motorcycle — very little traffic, scenic, and in good condition.

View on Wednesday from the Kancamancus
View from Kancamancus

One of the things I try to do when heading south through New Hampshire is stop in on my mother’s cousin when I can. She’s in an assisted living facility in Concord. We had a very pleasant visit for an hour or so before it was time for me to get back on the road.

I got back home around 6, and after unpacking, immediately headed for the jacuzzi to ease my aching back.

Thursday

When I was mentally sketching out my plans for the week, I’d left Thursday empty, because I was expecting it to be rainy. This turned out not to be the case. Thursday was bright and sunny, and I really didn’t feel like spending it doing chores, and didn’t want to spend another day on the motorcycle, so I put the bicycle in the back of the Jeep, and headed for the Cape Cod Canal. I parked on the Sandwich side, and rode the bike path to the end and back. I was feeling really good about myself on the outbound leg — I was zipping right along, and figured I was getting into better shape. And then I turned around, and realized I was now riding into the wind, and going much slower. Still I chugged along, and decided when I was done that I was very much deserving of an ice cream.

Friday

I’d heard at the beginning of the week that they were taking USS Constitution out into the harbor on Friday, and that it would be visible from Castle Island, so I headed in, getting there around 10:15 or so. I found I could look down the length of the harbor, and with the Nikon’s lens set to 300mm, just make out the ship heading out in the company of a tug and a bunch of police boats. Slowly, it made its way out of the harbor, until it was just even with Castle Island, where it turned, and fired as salute, which was answered by some howitzers set up in front of Fort Independence

USS Constitution

Once the ship turned around, I took a quick walk around Castle Island, then headed into Cambridge for a quick walk around Harvard Square.

Saturday

I have a modest interest in art. I do like going to art museums and looking at the paintings. I find my interest lasts for an hour or so, and then I’m “arted out”. Saturday, I decided to head into the Isabella Steward Gardner Museum with my sister Nancy.

The Gardner is an interesting place. Mrs. Gardner was a very wealthy woman with an interest in art who got into art collecting. Over the course of a couple of decades, she amassed a large collection, and when her husband died, decided to create a place, then called “Fenway Court”, where the public could view her collection. She arranged her collection meticulously, and then set up her will, the terms of which dictated that her trustees would maintain the collection unchanged in perpetuity. They are not allowed to make any kind of permanent change to the way the collection is presented, or the whole thing will be forfeited. The museum is a four story mock Spanish “palace”; the bottom three floors are public, while she lived on the fourth floor. There is a glass covered atrium in the center, filled with flowers, while ringing the atrium are a series of rooms displaying her treasures. There are paintings, there are a number of tapestries, some of which are over 500 years old, there are sculptures, and there a number of everyday items.

Gothic room of the Isabella Steward Gardner museum.
The Gothic Room at the top floor of the Gardner. A John Singer Sargent picture of Mrs. Sargent is in the corner in the right side of the picture.

It felt like we timed our visit just right; it was becoming noticeably more crowded as we left. Overall, a nice end to a good week off.

Fall Foliage in the White Mountains

by

Following the summer’s trip to the White Mountains on the motorcycle, I decided I wanted go back up for the fall foliage. I’ve done this a couple of times; last time I did this, in 2017, I did it over a weekend. I’ve also done it over the Columbus Day weekend. The trouble with doing it on the weekend, of course, is that when everyone else does it, so this year, I decided to take the first three days of October — Wednesday, Thursday, Friday off from work, and head up. It turned out to be a good move. There were a lot of other people around up there, but it wasn’t overwhelming.

Continue reading →

Damned Mice

by

I got a custom Corbin saddle for the FJR in August. Overall, it’s been comfortable, and lowers the riding position so that I feel safer with it, but I’ve also noticed my back hurts. This is not necessarily new, but I decided to put the stock seat back on, and check it out.

When I did, I found the under-seat area was filled with pink fiberglass insulation taken from an old roll that’s been in the garage for decades. Clearly, mice have found the bike.

Mouse nest

Worse, they’d found the insulation on the wiring harnesses tasty, and had stripped the insulation off.

Bare wires

So now, I have some free time, and the peak foliage season, and I don’t dare use the bike because the electrical system is likely to short out if the wires happen to touch.

About the only good thing about the situation is that I discovered it in the driveway instead of being stranded someplace. I’m enough of a believer in Murphy’s Law to know I’ve dodged a bullet, but the shop can’t even look at it for a couple of weeks, and who knows what they’ll find then. I’m hoping the wiring harness is orderable as a unit, and can simply be replaced completely.

Fall Foliage and the FJR

by

This past weekend I took my first overnight trip on the FJR, back up to New Hampshire and the White Mountains. I’ve been wanting to take it on a longish trip, and leaf peeping seemed just the thing. Saturday, I followed the same basic route I’d done with the rental FJR, and Sunday, with more time available than I had last year, I took a trip on the Conway Scenic Railway, and did a little more puttering on the way back.

I left the house on Saturday, with a little light mist. When I came out of the O’Neill Tunnel, it was actively raining, but happily, I was wearing my overpants, which can handle a little light rain. By the time I reached the state border, I was in the sunshine.

In New Hampshire, Route 3 and Interstate 93 entwine around each other like a vine on a string; I-93 is the highway; a straight shot north, except for the Franconia Notch area. Route 3 is a local road; you do run into some intersections in towns, but it’s scenic, and there are long stretches with not much traffic, and you can do a fairly decent speed unless you wind up behind a slowpoke. I much prefer it. The two roads do intersect often, and you can easily switch between the two.

At the point where I transferred to Route 3 on Saturday, there was a sign directing me to a bridge. It turned out to be an old covered bridge, so of course, I had to ride over it, ride back, then stop and take some pictures.

Inside the covered bridge

Inside the covered bridge

(Aside: Covered bridges are covered to protect their members from rot. I’ve often wondered if it would be cost-effective in the long run to add a cheap, easy to replace roof to overpasses).

I headed north to Route 112 and the Kancamancus Highway, where I got a shock. It was bumper to bumper, stop and go all the way to the first overlook. This is the FJR’s one Achilles heel: it does not handle slow speed traffic well, or at least, I don’t handle it well at slow speeds. It’s fine while moving, but once the speed drops below a couple of miles per hour, it’s top-heavy and has a real tendency to tip or turn.

After the outlook, traffic at least moved descending the Kancamancus on the way to Conway. By this point it was near sunset, so I stopped for dinner at a family restaurant. I was leaving just as a fireworks show started nearby, so I stayed until the end before heading out along Route 302 to find someplace to stay for the night. I wanted to stay somewhere between Conway and Bartlett.

I hadn’t factored in the time of year. There were No Vacancy signs all over the place. Even the dumpy little motel I’d stayed at before was full. I remembered passing a motel in North Conway that was showing a Vacancy sign, so I hurried to get back before they filled up. I got my room for the night.

The next morning, I had to figure out what to do. I’d originally planned to take 302 out to Sugar Hill, then have breakfast at Polly’s Pancake Parlor, but here I was, close to Conway, and I’d seen the Conway Scenic Railway signs. I decided to go for the train trip. I had breakfast locally, then got a ticket for the 11:30 Valley Ride. This is a 55 minute, 11 mile jaunt through the woods.

Clouds over the Conway Scenic Railway YardThe locomotive after changing endsConway Scenic Railway StationRiver View

The trip was fun, but not quite as scenic as one would hope; you spend a lot of time going through the woods, with trees close on both sides.

After the train returned, I headed west along Route 302, through Crawford Notch, past Mount Washington, to Route 3, and the slow ride home. This part of the ride is made for motorcycling — not much traffic, and scenic, curvy roads.

View from Crawford Notch

View from Crawford Notch

While I was riding through, I could see the Notch Train in the distance, running up along the side of the mountain. It made me a little sorry I hadn’t taken it, but not much; I’d rather take the bike than the train through there.

By the time I was headed south on Route 3, it was mid afternoon, so I stopped at the Indian Head Resort for lunch. It’s old-time 1950’s type tacky, but the view while I was eating was nice.

By the time I finished lunch, it was 3:30, and time to head home. For the most part, I took Route 3 back – it was getting close to sunset, and the light and the foliage were superb. I did skirt Laconia, as I’ve found there are a lot of intersections there. Finally, as I approached Concord and dusk fell, I switched back to I-93 for the rest of the ride home.

I am still pretty happy with this bike. At speed, it’s like riding a magic carpet, smooth and responsive and with plenty of power. I feel more comfortable passing for some reason on this bike than I did on the other two. I was mostly in the lower part of the engine’s RPM range except for one moment passing when I reached an absurd speed in second gear. It made me wonder what it can do at red line in top gear.

I do need to get better at stop and go with this thing. It tends to catch me by surprise when it loses gyroscopic balance and it starts to yaw. Part of it might be top-heaviness, part of it may be my short legs.

I was definitely feeling a little saddle-sore by Sunday evening. Not too bad, and nowhere as bad as the Katana, but I was feeling it. I may look into Yamaha’s comfort seat, a gel filled replacement saddle.

Finally, I was definitely missing my Nikon on this trip. It’s still out of commission, and I was limited to iPhone photography. The iPhone camera is really good, but its lens is fixed, and semi wide-angle. It also tends to pick up fingerprints.I tend to “see” narrowly photographically, and miss my zoom lens. I also miss having a raw file to work with and manipulate. At this point, I’ve exhausted all the do it yourself options I’ve read about; it sounds like the camera definitely needs repair. I may just decide to replace it instead.

 

Quabbin via Motorcycle

Image

Around the start of the last century, water shortages in Greater Boston caused the state government to look to Western Massachusetts for supplies of clean drinking water. The Wachusett Reservoir was completed around 1908, and in the Twenties, the people of the Swift River valley lost their battle against eastern Massachusetts, and construction of the Quabbin Reservoir begun. The towns of Enfield, Greenwich, Prescott and Dana were disincorporated, their citizens evicted from their homes, and all structures in the way of the future reservoir razed. Construction took place during the thirties, and the reservoir filled during the forties, becoming the largest inland body of water within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

Today, it supplies most of eastern Massachusetts with water. To protect the water, the area around it is a reservation. Yesterday, I took the motorcycle out for a ride around there. The roads around the reservoir are great for motorcycling — curvy, and not too crowded.

Continue reading →

Goodbye EX-500

by

I just got rid of my first motorcycle, a 1987 Kawasaki EX-500 the other day. It had been taking up space in the garage for a decade and a half.

I’d been interested in motorcycles for a long, long time before I got the bike — privately. My parents were very opposed to motorcycles, and I was pretty conservative in the way I manifested myself, so I think it was a shock when I actually got it. (I think my relatives have gotten over being shocked at anything I do).

I started buying motorcycle magazines in 1986 or so, and by 1987, I’d decided on the EX-500 — sporty, but a good beginner bike. I put down my money in the spring of 1987, intending to pick up the bike after taking the Motorcycle Safety Foundation course.

It was a disaster. I bombed out of the course. In hindsight, it didn’t help that the instructor was a screamer who just made me tenser when I screwed up. At the end, I came home from that weekend convinced motorcycles were not for me. I called up the dealer and cancelled the order, rather to his disbelief.

And yet… over the next few weeks, I found that it really was something I wanted to do. I still found myself looking at bikes hungrily. So I found another instructor who gave me one on one instruction, found that it went well, and called the dealer back, found that they still had the bike, and picked it up in the mid-summer of 1987.

It took me a while to get comfortable on the bike. I remember doing a lot of practice on Green Lodge street, where there is no traffic. Then I started taking it out on the side roads in traffic, and started to get comfortable.

This was all on my learners permit, which restricted me to daytime operation within the state. I had jury duty scheduled in early fall, so I couldn’t make the appointment until after that was over. In the meantime, I practiced circles and figures eight for the license test, and got so I could do one in a fairly tight area.

Finally, I had my appointment in early October. The inspector had me do a circle and figure eight in an area about twice as big as the areas I’d been practicing for, so I whipped through them confidently. He then told me to go down the road half a mile and come back, and as I did, I could see him in the rear view mirror go inside to do the paperwork. I had my license.

That October was when I first developed my liking for night rides, since I could now ride at night. It wasn’t until the following year that I really started to get into riding. I got better at it,  and got more confident. I developed that awareness of other vehicles that motorcyclists have. And I found I really enjoyed it.

The ride that sticks out in my memory was a trip out along the Mohawk Trail in July of 1993. I got to Mount Greylock at the end of the day, and took the road up to the summit. To the west, the sun was setting. To the east, the full moon was rising. It was awesome.

By the late 1990’s though, the bike was getting unreliable. It developed some sort of intermittent electrical problem that left me stranded a couple of times. I took it to one place to get fixed; the problem came back. I took it to a second place to get fixed; they said they found it, and I was just about to pick it up, when they came back and said it had died on the owner while he took it on a test ride. They got to the root of the problem, but I never fully trusted it again.

I was coming back from a short ride to visit my aunt when the end came. I was 90 seconds from home, when the car ahead of me stopped short. I slammed on the brakes, and was just congratulating myself for making a good emergency stop when I heard the squeal of brakes, and got tossed over the handlebars, breaking my collarbone.

The bike sustained enough damage — broken windscreen, mirror, and other scuffs, that it wasn’t worth fixing, especially given its past issues. So I got a new one, and the EX-500 has been sitting in the garage ever since. I wanted to be rid of it, but couldn’t figure out how. Dealers didn’t want it, and there weren’t any local junkyards.

I got a little more serious about this fall, and started looking online, and finally found a page that suggested Kars4Kids. I’d heard their jingle on the radio, of course, but didn’t realize they dealt with dead bikes too. I called them a couple of weeks ago, and asked them about it. “Sure!” they said. I told them the bike was damaged. “That’s OK”. I told them it had been sitting in the garage for 15 years. “Wow” they said, but they’d still take it. Great. So I put some air back in the rear tire so I could move it, and got it out from under all the accumulated junk. Last Wednesday, I wheeled it out to the street, and when I came home, it was gone.

Medflight Motorcycle Run

by

I took part in the 5th Annual Medflight Motorcycle Run today. The run, which benefits the operations of Boston Medflight, started in Canton at noon. This year, the route was different. Instead of going down Bay Road to Easton and Mansfield, we went through Sharon, back roads to Route 27 in Medfield, before looping back via Routes 16 and 135.

I put the iPhone in the map pocket of my tank bag, intending to get a GPS track, but the sun fried it! ( temporarily). Next time, I put something white in the pocket to keep it cool.

When we got back, they had a barbecue, and then the helicopter arrived. It’s amazing how much wind it kicks up. I got a good video of it landing, but it’s only visible in Safari– when I tried to convert it to formats other browsers can read, it cam out upside down. So much for embedding video with the iOS version of WordPress…

Features vs Quality

by

Yesterday’s motorcycle ride reminded me once again that sometimes quality is better than a whole bunch of features, and that fit counts.

Late in the summer, I bought the Scorpion EXO 900 helmet. It’s a modular helmet that allows you to flip up the chin bar– in fact, you can even take it off, and use it as a three quarter helmet. I’ve been wanting a modular helmet since the last time I took the camera with me and had to take the helmet off every time I stopped to take a picture. In the store, I fell in love with the retractable sun shield, and allowed myself to be talked into a snugger fit, on the theory that it will only get looser, and you want a snug fit.

For me, though, it’s turned into one uncomfortable helmet. It’s heavy, and after a while, the weight gets to you. And the tightness around the ear pads gets to me after awhile. It just doesn’t feel good after awhile. It sort of reminds my of my first helmet, a Bell, that wasn’t very comfortable either.

This was borne home to me yesterday when I wore my old Shoei. It’s not modular, but it’s light, and comfortable, and it felt so good. I could have ridden even further if I hadn’t been anxious to get a bicycle ride in.

I’ll probably keep the Scorpion around for rides when I think I’ll need the modularity, but will stick to the Shoei or Arai for most of my riding.

Warm December

by

The unseasonably warm weather continued today. With a high around 54°, it felt more like October. I took the motorcycle out along Route 109 to 27 to  Route 16, past the Weston Ski Track, where they weren’t making snow yet, to Route 30 and back.

I then loaded the bicycle into the car, and took a ride along the Charles. My legs have been stiff and sore lately, so at the start of the ride, I wasn’t sure how far I could ride, but by the time I hit the Mass Ave Bridge, things had loosened up nicely, and I ended up going as far as the North Harvard Street bridge.

Boathouse Boathouse on the Cambridge side of the river, taken near sunset

It was beautiful around the river, but the earliness of the sunset was a reminder that it really is December. I’m wondering how long it will be before the weather catches up.