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After 2 months and almost 2000 miles, the bike and I are becoming one at last. So, of course, I’ve started thinking about the next bike. (Oh, the shame!) Yes, I’ve been unfaithful, letting my eyes wander to larger, more powerful bikes. I’ve even sat on a few. But there still just aren’t that many bikes in existence that I can consider riding. I’m going to get better as a rider, but my legs aren’t going to get any longer. So, no V-Strom, no Ulysses, no F650 GS. The F800 ST is still a possibility, but the cost just kills me. The Triumphs are still calling me. The Bonneville is a sweet ride, and is highly customizable. I can Scramblerize it, to make it a bit more dirt road friendly.

But one remarkable shop I stopped at, the salesman asked me, “Why do you want a new bike? The Blast is a great bike for you.” Not exactly the way to sell motorcycles, but an excellent attitude. I had a ready answer. After 200 miles, I feel pretty cramped. Actually, after about 100. And it’s really hard to haul much stuff on the bike. Since I like longer distance riding, both of these are an issue. The salesman had no easy answers for me, but I know by now that easy answers don’t exist.

I’ve been spending some on-line time over at TriumphRat.net. Lots of information in the twins forums, and I’ve been dreaming and drooling. But even if I bought a Bonny, I’d still have to spend a fair amount of scratch fitting it out. While I would be instantly granted room to stretch, the storage would still need to be addressed. There are plenty of options, but nothing cheap.

The only thing for it is to see what I can do to make my joyous little Blast, a bit more comfortable and functional. Firstly, I had a brainstorm to solve the helmet lock problem, both immediately and cheaply. It’s so very old school, and I’m kicking myself for not thinking of it sooner. Yes, there is a place to put a helmet lock under the seat of the Blast. Just not a “Helmet Lock.” Home Depot to the rescue.

I seem to recall this being a fairly common sight 20-25 years ago. Just your regular old padlock hanging under the seat. It’s out of the way enough that I can leave it there all the time.

OK, just one more. It doesn’t really show the lock, but it does show off the pretty lines of the bike.

I’ve ordered the standard seat from the dealership and it should arrive this week. I’m hoping the 2 extra inches will alleviate the legs cramping problem. I think I’ll still be able to back the bike up with the taller seat. It will also be a nice stepping stone for when I do go bigger. I can start zeroing in on my seat height limit.

And I added a bit a pure farkle. When looking around in the doo dads aisle, I found a small clock. It’s really just a small, waterproof pocket watch with  stickum on the back instead of a fob attachment. I don’t always remember to wear my watch, and when I do, it’s still a bit difficult to see when riding. Trying  to get the watch to peak out enough from under my jacket sleeve was starting to be a recipe for disaster. Too much time with my eyes off the road.  Now it’s just a quick glance away.

So, I’ve got some basic problems now sorted out. I no longer have to carry my helmet around with me everywhere I go. (I can’t believe it took me 2 months to think of a padlock. That’s the problem with the internet. With all that wonderful information at your fingertips, you can spend forever looking for a specific solution, instead of being forced to just use your brain.) Hopefully, two more inches will be significant in the comfort department. And I can see what time it is without killing myself.

Now, if I can only solve the problem of dry lockable storage! My tail bag is great, and it came through the torrential downpour with flying colors. But, it’s starting to fill with things I should always carry: rain gear, warmer kit bits, maps, tools, lens cleaner, water, etc. When I take my camera along, (and I always want my camera along) it’s really stuffed. Saddle bags are the best solution, but tricky to fit ones of useful size. And they still wouldn’t offer much deterrent to theft. Locking hard cases are the way to go if at all possible.

The internet is also a good thing. No, I didn’t find a pre-made solution, but all that time spent looking at 37 pages of pictures of Bonnevilles, most customized in some way, got the juices flowing.  Stayed tuned for more. . . .

Having gotten thoroughly disgusted with the cloudy weather threatening rain, I decided to go riding anyway. Rain looked like it might never get here, and by the time I’d mapped out a route, the sun was coming out. Whoo Hoo! Good day to ride after all.  I decided to take a fairly short ride today, 80 or so miles, with the main intention to go places, or at least on roads I haven’t been before. The map below is my altered version of this loop, as I discovered that there are some roads I can’t recommend. In fact, I don’t want to see them again. But some really interesting things happened on the original route, that got a bit improvised along the way.

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So, the main purpose of this trip, was to discover Princeton, MA.  The first part of the trip was on familiar roads. Groton, Harvard, and Still River are familiar and enjoyable.  I nice warm up to get me in the groove. But once I crossed 117, I went beyond the fields I know. (With apologies to Lord Dunsany.) I had my directions memorized through Five Corners, and was pretty comfortable that I’d memorized them to Route 62. Once I got to a numbered road, I hoped it would be reasonably well marked, and so navigation wouldn’t take up too much of my concentration. And it proved to be so. But it was a bit tricky in places, and I didn’t get to look around very much.  I’ll have to make this trip again, as what I saw was intriguing.

But  all too soon I was out of town and headed to some challenging areas. I wanted to keep the trip as rural as possible so, I quickly left 68 to avoid Gardner.  (And since I got a bit turned around in Gardner earlier on the week, I wasn’t keen to repeat it.) As I turned off 62 onto 68, I had a BWM F650 GS pull up beside me. It felt like an omen. And about 5 minutes later, I was beginning to wish I was riding it. Now the road from Hubbardston to Westminster was fine. It was in pretty good shape and decently wide. And it was wonderfully scenic. The Mare Meadow Reservoir definitely deserves some photographic exploration. There are good places to pull off on this road, as it is used by fishermen.

There were probably some shops to stop at in Westminster, but the weather was beginning to concern me some, so I just kept on. I’d been watching the beginnings of thunderheads, and it seemed like I was circling one. But I wasn’t so worried that I felt I needed to bag the trip and hit Rt 2 and home.  The leg to Ashburnham was fine.  I only needed quick glances at my directions, and I was making good time. Once there I had to keep my eyes peeled for my next turn, the eerily names River Styx Rd. And aptly enough, the road went straight to hell.  Once it became Russell Hill Rd the road bed smoothed out, but the road is narrow with blind turns, with sand and gravel on the inner curves and low spots. A technical and challenging ride. Got dreaming about that BMW again. Before leaving Russell Hill Rd, I passed a house with a sign proclaiming it the John Adams Homestead. Which, it turns out, is a Bed and Breakfast with 3 rooms.

Here’s where my route begins to deviate from the map above. I crossed Rindge Rd to Richardson Rd. I would have felt more comfortable on a mountain bike than a motorcycle. The posted speed limit dips to 15mph, and I wasn’t arguing. This isn’t a two lane road. Traffic flows both directions, but it isn’t two lanes. I eventually worked my way over to 31, crossed it, got over to New West Townsend Rd, and had to do a U-turn to head north. I wanted to see another stretch of Willard Brook State Park. It was fine as a park, but no where near as fun as the twisties on 119.   But I didn’t just want to head to 119 for the quick trip home, so I headed back south on Lunenburg Rd.  I missed my turn for Old City Rd (sign was difficult to see,) so I had to turn around and a light misty rain had started. It wasn’t horribly dark and the mist was very innocuous. But I was in an area where I didn’t have a clear view of the sky. If I could have seen what was coming, I’d have beaten a very hasty path home. I made the planned turn onto Tyler Rd, and the misty rain stopped. I began to have more signage difficulties, as things weren’t marked terribly clearly. I’d also not spent much time memorizing this bit. I’m so close to home, how could I get seriously lost? I’d quickly find familiar territory.

Well, instead of turning left onto S Row, as was clearly written in my directions, I turned right. Dyslexia? Bad signage? Who knows, but now I’m headed in the wrong direction looking for a road I won’t find. And now it starts to rain. Not a drizzle or mist, it’s looking like it’s going to be serious. I start making the most logical turns I can, based on where I think I am. (I’m well aware that I’m lost at this point.) And it’s DARK. I want my sunglasses off NOW, but I can’t find anywhere to pull off. Finally, I come to the intersection of whatever road I’m on, Townsend Harbor Rd and Mulpus. I pull off onto the non-existent shoulder at the stop sign. Zip up and seal the jacket. Waterproof doesn’t do you any good when it’s only snapped and open at the collar. I pull the rain cover over the tail bag, and think briefly about putting my rain pants on. But cars are coming up at the intersection, and there ain’t much room. Why bother anyway considering how wet my leathers already are? (It’s now bucketing down!)

Now which way? Townsend Harbor was where I was headed, but it doesn’t feel right. My inner compass is telling me Malpus. I go with my gut, Malpus it is. Before I take off, I remember to take off my shades, but I’ve got no place to put them.  I hook them on the cargo net that has been holding my (now soggy) directions on the tank. I don’t expect to ever see them again. But by now the lightning has started and it’s scary. There’s no shelter anywhere, nothing but tall trees lining shoulderless residential roads. I need to get out of here. Malpus is now flooding in many areas, and I ride into water that flows over the tops of my feet. Then I come out to a main drag. Left? Right? Where am I anyway? Left feels like north. Left. The road is better but the lightning is coming fast and furious. I still need shelter now! Did that sign say 225? Where? Longley, Lawton, yes! The old mill is minutes away! Just one careful turn through the river now flowing over the railroad tracks and I’m safe.

Of course, now the rain lets up and the lightning is less. I call home to say I’m safe, and find out the cat is MIA, the wind blew open the door, and the rain has soaked the carpet below the open windows. Sigh. I figure I’ll hang about for a bit longer to get my head straight before I get back on when I look west. Evil looking clouds, we are not done yet! Gotta run back under cover for round two, and it’s worse. Lighting is almost non-stop. It strikes some where very close by. I heard it, but I didn’t see where. The mill generator kicks in, but while it’s only 10ft away, it hardly adds to the din.  After an hour hanging out in the underpass, I figure it’s finally safe enough to manage the 20 min ride I have left to get home. The road is covered with leaves and twigs, some sticks. Then 1/2 mile from where I hid out, I find the lightning strike. Or maybe strikes. It looks like a whole section of pines just exploded. The road is impassable even for a little motorcycle for about 200 yrds. I can barely see the police lights on the other side. (There aren’t any on mine.)

After choosing the most likely to be passable alternate route home, I get there. The cat beat me back and for once didn’t object to being towelled off. Me neither. Still glad I took my MSF course in the rain. I was worried about a lot of things. But how the bike would handle the wet was never one of them.

I did a little searching before I took the BRC classes, to see what was possible. I’d originally hoped for small and cheap, like $1000 for a 250cc. But I quickly discovered I wouldn’t find such a thing anywhere but the roadside. And since I know beans about bikes at this point, it would be a pig in a poke. My new price point suddenly jumped to 3 or 4 grand. Maybe used, maybe new. I sat on a bunch of bikes to see what might fit and what felt comfortable. I was terribly disappointed to discover that a bike I have loved from afar was a no go instantly. The air cleaner hits me in the knee. Bummer as I’ve liked the look of Honda Shadows for years. Turns out this isn’t an uncommon problem.  The Harley’s did the same thing.  But the trip to the Harley shop got me turned on to Buells. I’d read about them some years back, but they’d slipped off my radar. So, my pre-class poking around got me two candidates: the Suzuki S40, a cruiser style bike, and the Buell Blast, a standard bike that looks like a sport bike.

After passing the class, I spent another day looking everywhere I hadn’t previously been. I was briefly, but seriously, tempted by the Triumph Bonneville. Very, very sweet! But it’s beyond my budget and a bit too big for a first bike. I’d rather have a standard than a cruiser.  So in the and there was only one bike for me. I bought a leftover brand new ’07 Buell Blast.

No insurance and no registration, so I had to drive it home in the back of my pickup truck.