1mlost: The Motorcycle I Ride

It's a 2009 BMW R1200GS. I will not tell you it is the best motorcycle. I firmly believe that the best motorcycle doesn't exist all the time. The best motorcycle suddenly appears from time to time, and sometimes I am riding it. These moments blip once and awhile when I've gained enough weight to balance the heavy boxer and everything comes into alignment as I navigate this 30 degree turn at 35 mph. Convincing another person that a motorcycle is perfect is the same as trying to convince your married double date, Chuck, that your wife, and not his wife, is actually the perfect wife. I do love this bike, but I am sure you don't care why, and it's so much more interesting how I landed on this particular bike.

I've wanted to ride a motorcycle as soon as I got the sniff that it would truly let the world know I am a very manly man. In my twenties, I suffered from a baby face that always made me look 4-5 years younger than my true age. The desire to prove I was indeed a man and not a small boy runs deep in me. I suppressed the urge for many years. Even as an avid car driver, the mystery of not even knowing HOW to operate a motorcycle was excruciating. In 2018, at the suggestion of my girlfriend, I bought a 2009 Vespa LX150. I purchased it with a credit card for the honey price of $2400. I'd still make that deal any day of the week. In order to get the letter M printed on my license, and legally drive the thing, I needed to enroll in an MSF course. These 2-3 day motorcycle courses are run out of parking lots deep in most major metropolitan areas. Mine was near the beach in Brooklyn. A parking lot surrounded by buildings with their backs turned. A trailer in the corner served as a place to hang a banner and also to house the classroom portion of the class. I highly recommend taking a Motorcycle Safety Foundation beginner's course, especially just for fun. They run an excellent program. By the end of the weekend, you will know how to operate a motorcycle and be a much safer car driver as well.

Here I am at the MSF course at the end of March. It's freezing and misty. I have on my mandatory jacket with full sleeves, long pants, boots that cover my ankles, gloves and a bandana (to protect the community helmets from lice and also give a taste of the renegade motorcycle culture.) After about an hour of classroom instruction, I'm sitting on the seat of a motorcycle, ready to move. I'm nervous. I have the feeling I'm sitting on top of a rocket with the fuse burning. It's heavy. It will definitely fall over if I lean more than a few degrees left or right. How do you start a motorcycle? I turned the key, but didn't get any familiar chug-a-chug-a-chug-a. Oh! They're telling us how to start the motorcycle. Mine starts up. It's a Suzuki TU250x.. When riding a motorcycle of this size, the machine completely fades away. Looking down the road, I see no part of the motorcycle in any part of my vision. I am suddenly, by what appears to be my own power, able to travel at incredible speeds. I immediately understood I needed to possess this super power. After doing my necessary figure 8s, I passed the course and got my M.

I picked up that baby blue vespa on the following Monday. Traveling by scooter through a city is the ideal mode of transportation. That summer I braved a 500 mile trip to the catskills with a full load. The first night camping, I awoke to the sound of raccoon, 20 feet away, trying to claw his way into the under seat storage to devour my loaf of white bread. For some reason, those paw prints never washed out. By the end of the summer, I was desperate to get a real motorcycle.



One day in September 2018, I took my girlfriend on the back of the vespa up Kent ave, in Williamsburg, She had an appointment with "Yan", whom everyone else called Ian. Ian was going to propose to my girlfriend's friend and they were going to pick out a ring a Ladybird. The shop happens to be next to a triumph motorcycle dealership. As I waited on the sidewalk between the very neat engagement ring store and the dirty chaotic motorcyle dealership, something dawned on me. It was a feeling. I won't try to describe it, but my feet started moving toward that chaos. Helmet in hand, the salesmen practically tripped over themselves on the way to answer my questions. They had a live one. 2 weeks later, I was riding down Wythe Avenue on a matte green Triumph Scrambler. I stalled it 3 times on the way home.



Me and the scrambler had many good times and that bike taught me how to ride. I put 10k miles on that bike in a little over a year. It took me down the blue ridge parkway and up Mt. Washington. During an unseasonably warm Feb, 2020, I rode down to Pennsylvania from NYC to see my family. The 50 degree weather on the way down, turned into a 20 degree day riding back. I was determined to take a backroad route splitting two parallel mountains in northeast PA. After an hour of riding, I was shaking from the cold. There was this one spot on my neck getting absolutely blasted with cold air. I knew there was a triumph dealer near my route so I decided to stop in to try and buy a balaclava to shield my face from the cold.

The triumph guys sent me over the bmw guys and they apologized for not having any such face coverings in stock. I took the opportunity to look at some of the bikes. I had been dreaming of a big adventure bike since doing my first multiday moto trip. The salesman, a very smart man, casually asked if I wanted to take out an r1200 for a test ride. I was stunned by his unfounded confidence in my ability to ride this big bike. I had no such confidence. After quickly signing a contract stating that Hermy's BMW was in no way responsible for any outcome to the rest of the day, I was sitting in the parking lot on the third motorcycle I'd ever ridden. The salesman gave me a 40 minute out and back and he knows what he's doing sending people on that route.

I was stunned by the machine. Almost immediately, I nearly ran one corner wide and thought, "this big bike just doesn't turn well." I glanced at the speedo and saw it register 80. My jaw dropped. I could not reasonably take this corner at 40 on my current bike. This was the solo person mover I had always dreamed of.

I returned to Hermy's, a big ol' grin on my face. They know that grin. They are smart. I parked the $40k bike and asked if they had any used ones. 'Lil' suggested my bike to me. It was old, had 40k miles on it, but had all the right kit added. Aux lights, boxes, aftermarket seat, even an electric connection to the heated jacket I was wearing. We mated like two blue avatar creatures having tail sex. After an hour or two, (do I really HAVE to sit with the guy who tries to sell me exotic 2 year warranties) the bike was mine. They were such good salesman, that to this day, I still don't really know what I paid for that bike.



The ride home was a mix of emotions. How was I going to explain to my pregnant wife that I just bought a new motorcycle on a whim? Could she understand the corner at 80 thing? I did the adult thing and just said nothing upon my arrival. The next morning she looked out the window and asked, "where is your motorcycle?" Giant white elephant occupying the spot in the yard.

The next month, Covid struck New York. My hopes of running up the miles on the new bike faded. I remember finally taking a ride in April, cruising down empty New York City streets feeling like I stole something. The concensus in the moto community was saying not to ride because the hospital would be too full if I fell off. I rode only occasionally and never far. In July, my daughter Clementine was born and we moved upstate, the bike trailering north with me driving a minivan. The big GS is home now and it is truly the best bike for one-person travel in this part of the world. It can take me where I choose faster than any other available technology. I do love this bike but there is no romance. It is mechanical.

-jk