After Clement Salvadori mentioned key fobs in his “Stupid Things” (Road Tales) story in the May issue, I recalled my own experience with motorcycle key fobs a couple of years ago.

I’d just hopped off I-70 at Salina, Utah after having put 130 miles’ worth of gas through my ’85 V65 Sabre, which is usually good for 180 miles or so, then it starts getting thirsty. Just after exiting, I noticed an Indian parked on the shoulder of the opposite ramp, and a figure walking along not far away, helmet in hand, which is never a good sign. Not one to leave a fellow biker stranded, I motored up next to him and asked, “Out of gas?” He looked at me blankly for a moment and then started gesturing wildly while talking a mile a minute in a language that I was almost sure was English, but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. “Whoa,” I exclaimed, pulling my helmet off. “Slow down partner. Say that again, reeeal slow.” After a few much slower words, I realized that he actually was speaking English, but real English, as in “from across the Atlantic Ocean English,” and slowly I learned the language as I got the drift of his dilemma. 

He and his buddy were on rented Indians out of Las Vegas, on the last couple days of a ten-day trip. They’d pulled off to the side of the Interstate to talk for a moment, then decided to trade bikes for awhile. Fellow #1 hops on his buddy’s Indian and scoots off down the highway. After awhile he realized his buddy wasn’t following him, so he took the first exit he came to, Salina, turned off the bike and sat there waiting for his buddy, who never showed up. Growing concerned, he decided to ride back to find his buddy, only to discover that he can’t get the Indian to start. It’s totally dead. Suddenly it dawns on him: they had switched bikes, but had not switched those stinking newfangled key fobs. Bike will run till you turn it off, then without the correct fob it’s basically a boat anchor. So there his buddy was, sitting by the side of the road thirty miles back with a bike that won’t start and he’s sitting here, on an off ramp with a bike that won’t start. They are some umpteen-thousand miles from home, with cell phones that won’t work because there’s no coverage and no one to call even if they did. To say he was a little panicked would be accurate.

“Not a problem,” I told him. “Give me your buddy’s fob and I’ll run it up to him.” Without a moment’s hesitation and with blind trust, he hands me the fob thingy and off I go, in search of his stranded buddy. Sure enough, after twenty minutes or so, there’s his buddy, standing next to his dead Indian on the westbound side, but there’s a concrete barrier between the lanes so I could only wave at him as I rode by, with him waving madly back, probably thinking I was yet another American leaving him standing there stranded. No telling how many cars had passed him by. I’m not sure how far I had to go, probably only five miles or so, before I found one of those emergency vehicle crossings where I could make a U-turn. This was actually turning into an emergency as I’d now gone about 170 miles on a tank that I usually fill long before the 180-mile mark, and I’m 35 miles from the nearest gas back in Salina. I’ll never forget the look of relief on that fellow’s face as I handed the fob to him. He’d realized almost an hour ago what had happened, and an hour stranded by the side of the road in a foreign country feels like an eternity.

Anyway, we rode back to where Fellow #1 was parked and they had quite the reunion. They tried to pay me for my help, which I declined, but when we went to lunch at a local burger place/gas station, they refused to let me buy my own burger, which I finally agreed to. Turned out they actually owned a bike shop in England and had been planning this trip to the colonies for ten years. They’d had an adventure and a tale to tell! And I learned a valuable lesson that day: that Sabre will go 205 miles on a tank of gas if it has to. 

Florin Owens, Vernal, Utah

Congratulations to the men who made the epic journey along the Pan-American Highway and through the Darien Gap (“Where the Road Ends,” May 2019)! The great story by Scott Yorko and images by Alex Manne and Jake Hamby do justice to this test of courage, strength, will and wits by Wayne Mitchell, Simon Edwards, Mike Eastham and Rich Doering. Thanks to them for their service and for bringing this legendary trip to life! I found this feature particularly compelling because I just finished reading the late Ed Culberson’s book, “Obsessions Die Hard: Motorcycling the Pan-American Highway’s Jungle Gap.” The book’s images are black and white and only cover his 1985 attempt; all his film and journals from his successful 1986 effort were lost somewhere in the Atacama Desert in Argentina during the final leg of that trip. The color images in your story bring new life and dimension to Culberson’s achievement. Somewhere, Ed Culberson is smiling and giving this entire crew thumbs-up!

Gary Ilminen, Lone Rock, Wisconsin

I’ve suppose I’ve read every issue of Rider since I first discovered it on a newsstand many years ago, and have concluded that it is the crème de la crème of the rags specializing in the world of motorcycling. But now you’ve gone and done it. The May 2019 issue is, in my judgment, the best one you’ve ever published. To have augmented your usual excellent content with “You Can’t Get There From Here,” and then Ken Lee’s excellent ramble about riding out in the Gold Country, just pushed this issue to the very top of the heap. Although the Darien Gap story covered a lot of pages, I wasn’t ready for it to end. I hope these gentlemen will bring out a book or video documentary about their incredible journey. Ken Lee’s superb article, with photography by Katie, about some of the most enjoyable riding in California, covered both the riding and historical aspects of the area. My only quarrel with Ken is that his work is not published more often. He is an excellent wordsmith. So congratulations, Mark (and Clem, Greg, Jenny and all the staff) for this excellent issue. You’ve set a pretty high mark and I look forward to more like it in the future.

Jim Lattimore, Franklin, Tennessee

I was 15 years old in the summer of 1962, when I paid a whisker over $300 for my brand-new 50cc Honda Super Cub. What a summer that was! Wind in my hair, an occasional bug stinging my face and more joy than I imagined possible–all at 35 mph. No big twin with more roar and faster speed has matched it yet. Now, it is resurrection morning (“Time Machine,” May 2019) and I’m not sure if I died and went to heaven or if Honda really brought the Super Cub back to life. Either way, I’m loving it.

David J. Mills, via email

Every month I get my issue of Riderand read it from back to front. It could be because I’m left-handed but the more likely reason is getting to Retrospectiveto see what old gem is featured. The May feature really put a smile on my face: there was the same Kawi KZ400 I had years ago. Same bike, same paint scheme. Here come the memories. As the article states, it was a great little commuter. I bought mine from a friend in the mid-‘80s and kept it for more than 10 years. My only regret: I should have hung on to it! Thank you, Mr. Salvadori, for a great write up on a cool old bike.

Randy Norton, Palm Bay, Florida

Question: on page 71 of the May 2019, the article about using your clutch to back down a slippery slope is great but the picture shows the rider standing beside the bike? I don’t think I could control my Vision doing it that way!

Mitch Peevy, Buford, Georgia

Hi Mitch, we could have shown a photo of the technique with a rider seated on the bike, but we were trying to demonstrate that it can be done when that isn’t possible or practical for some reason–like when your legs aren’t long enough to firmly plant your feet on the ground while seated on the bike, or you’re unloading the bike from a truck. You can do it seated, of course, if you’re blessed with long enough legs and/or the ramp(s) is wide enough. –EIC

Regarding the April 2019 road test of the manual shift Honda NC750X, the text states that the redline has been increased to 7,500 rpm. The photo of the dash clearly shows a redline of around 6,400-6,500 rpm. All of Honda’s literature for this model refer to the increased redline in connection with the DCT model. Please clarify. Has the redline been increased on the manual model? If so, why does the tach indicate otherwise? If not, why would it be increased on the DCT model and not the manual since the engines are apparently otherwise identical?

Mike Phillips, Harstburg, Missouri

Hi Mike, Honda tells us that the redline on the display remained the same (6,400) from the NC700X to the NC750X, but that the actual rev cut (rev limit) on both the manual and DCT models did increase from 6,600 rpm to 7,500 rpm. Hope that helps! –EIC

On page 61 of your Vermont story (Favorite Ride, June 2019) you wrote that president Harding died of a gunshot wound, but that is incorrect. President Harding died of an apparent heart attack.

Julius Camelio, New Rochelle, New York

You are correct, Julius, thank you. Many believe that Harding’s death involved foul play, but he definitely was not shot. –EIC

My brother-in-law and I just returned home from a trip to Texas for the MotoGP race at the Circuit of the Americas track just outside of Austin. We both pulled small trailers containing our camping gear, George on his 1999 Honda Valkyrie and me on my 2017 Harley-Davidson Ultra Limited. We settled into the tent camping area, right in the middle of what was apparently BMW R 1200 GS Central. We’d barely begun setting up camp when Brolin from Alberta, Canada, rolled in to introduce himself, along with offering a cold beverage. We then met Bobby from Illinois, Keith from Oklahoma, Don from Texas, Patti from California, Jeanine from Florida, Aaron from Georgia, Garrett from Ohio (transplanted from Ireland), Vic and Cy from Utah and a long list of others. Other bikes trickled in: KTM, Triumph, Suzuki, Honda, BSA, etc. One gent, originally from London but now firmly settled in Greeley, Colorado, after a lifetime of traveling, told of his four sons, each of whom was born in a different country and each married to wives from still different countries! Lots of campers dropped by to comment on George’s Valkyrie or to ask me about my Mini-Mate camper trailer.

The races themselves saw a sea of fans filled with a variety of nationalities and languages. While there were only a few children in our camping area, the race crowd contained lots of little ones running around, each with their freshly bought souvenirs, caps and t-shirts touting their favorite riders, even if they didn’t quite know yet who their favorite was. A young Italian couple sat next to me as their 18-month-old son ran around testing out his new legs, all the while sporting his oversized #46 Valentino Rossi cap. Spectators cheered the riders as the race began, groaned when leader and reigning series champion Marc Marquez crashed out, cheered when perennial champion Rossi took the lead, groaned again when Rossi was passed by eventual winner Álex Rins, then applauded all of the riders as the race concluded. There were no fights, no violent arguments over which rider was better or which manufacturer was superior…just a lot of motorcycle fans enjoying the spectacle of watching some of the best riders in the world race on one of the most challenging tracks on the circuit.

George and I packed and left early the next morning, saying our goodbyes as our neighbors all headed off to the four winds. We made a beeline to our homes in southern Mississippi, agreeing that this had been one of our better trips and that we should make plans to do it again next year.

I’ve been a Harley guy for most of my life and will likely remain so for the rest of my riding days. However, I’ve had my eyes opened to other areas of motorcycling as I read Ridermagazine and other publications. Meeting such a varied cross-section of riders from around the world was a great experience and I plan to do it again, as well as look into what other events are out there, just waiting on me to buy a ticket and show up.

Thanks to the Riderstaff for all you do. It’s a great publication…keep up the good work!

Bo Sills, Newhebron, Mississippi

I have been a subscriber of your wonderful magazine for years. As long as you don’t morph into a coffee table queen like your competitors I will continue to do so. 

After a long, cruel winter here in Iowa, riding season is upon us. This winter I turned 62 and was overdue for my mid-life crisis. I currently ride a ’14 Triumph Explorer. (Pretty much the bike I’ve dreamed of ever since, out of the blue, my father bought me a Rupp mini bike 50 years ago.) I just added an R NineT Pure to my stable. The bike makes me feel like a kid again. It really is a time machine. 

Jim Conner, via email

Now that spring has arrived in the Midwest, I’ll be out riding my new-to-me, leftover 2016 Honda Gold Wing. When I bought this couch on two wheels this week at the Honda dealer, I thought about all the bikes I have had over the last 54 years. It all started with a little Honda 150 that I was able to purchase with my first job out of high school. Then came a 305 Super Hawk, back when that was the second-biggest bike Honda made (1966 this was).

There have been other bikes, but they all left fond memories of life on two wheels, and the freedom you feel no matter what size bike you are on. This month’s article on the Honda Super Cub, I’m sure will bring back memories for all who at one time rode them. It’s articles like that one that puts Rider magazine in front of the other mags.

Russ Horn, via email

Just finished reading “Stupid Things That I Have Done.” The paragraph about tire pressure hit home. At 73 years young I attempted to check my tires. I ride a Harley bagger. After much difficulty I got the valve stem caps off. Very little space on the rear wheel. That was the easy part. Trying to get a reading on my pressure gauge was not good. I let out more air trying to get the reading. Having attended the school of hard knocks, I took the bike to the dealer and behold, a young man with a special tool had me rolling in five minutes. By the way the front was OK, the rear was eight pounds low. Must have let more out than I thought.

George Hapkiewicz, via email

While going to San Jose State University in 1979, I got ditched by the lousy public transportation system during a nasty rainstorm and, for the only time in my life, I hitchhiked to get home. I vowed to solve the problem, and since the SJSU course catalog had an ad for the local Kawasaki dealer that featured the KZ400, a couple days later I found my way to the dealer and became a motorcyclist. A few months later I became a Ridersubscriber.

A few years later I had moved up to a bigger bike and the KZ400 wasn’t seeing much use. It had still been lovingly maintained, back in the days when air-cooled engines meant getting out the toothbrush for cleaning. I decided to pass it on to my younger brother for Christmas one year. He kept it until he got a bigger bike, and it came back to my house, a little worse for the wear. Then a friend was interested in learning to ride, so I passed it on to him. He kept it until he got a bigger bike, and it came back to my house, a lot worse for the wear. (See a pattern?)

At that point, I decided I would keep it as a restoration project. It’s been off the road for 20-some years, while I’ve been collecting parts when I’ve had extra cash. I always thought it would be a retirement project, something to work on when I finish my 1888 house. But now you’ve done it. It took 40 years, but you’ve officially deemed the KZ400 a classic bike. I guess I better get to working on that restoration now, even though retirement is a few years away still.

Matt Knowles, Ferndale, California

Just got done reading Clement’s article on stupidity and at the end it made me think he may have stumbled upon the answer to the age-old question about immovable object and irresistible force.

Chris Shockley, Tacoma, Washington

I’m a new subscriber to this magazine, and was particularly surprised to see that you included a story about three riders and their trip from Alaska to the tip of Argentina, including an attempt to cross the Darien Gap. I helped sponsor a rider who rode from Michigan to Brazil, interestingly enough on a KLR650 as well. He elected to bypass the Gap, which no doubt your riders can attest is probably the smart thing to do. I stopped asking why people do such things a long time ago. What one considers smart is much different than another. One of the more interesting articles was the one on the KZ400, which began on page 90 and finished on page 89; that is an approach I haven’t seen before. So it happens that my tail bag zipper failed today, so I took a hard look at the Fly bag but elected to go with the Nelson-Rigg sport model. Looking forward to the next issue.

Ron Boals, Kewadin, Michigan

As a longtime Ridermagazine reader and a longer-time resident of Minnesota, I really enjoyed the Favorite Ridearticle in your May 2019 issue. I was a 55-year-old 3M employee in St. Paul, Minnesota, when I attended a pre-retirement meeting. The speaker said (among many other things), “People don’t grow old by living their years–they grow old by deserting their dreams.” I had always wanted a motorcycle but for one reason or another never got one. I left the meeting and went to St. Paul Honda and bought a 400cc Honda Hawk.

During the next 38 years I rode more than 200,000 miles on nine different motorcycles–ending up with two Gold Wings. At age 93 I sold the last Gold Wing–I really miss the ride–but I thought it was time. TheFavorite Ridearticle in your recent issue is about northern Minnesota–my country. I have good friends in Ely, and while visiting them I rode through all the spots your article mentioned–many times–and it brought back many good memories.  

I’m now 97 years old–still active–and still miss riding. By the way, I was a pilot in the South Pacific and Japan during WWII.  

Robert L. Wieman, St. Paul, Minnesota

Having ridden almost all of the trip Doering and the team took (missed Central America to Colombia by moto, but covered it by sail), I can attest that this is an amazing trip in such a short time. Frankly the Dalton and Carretera Austral portions can be horrendous due to the road and traffic, a different story to the Darien, but just as dangerous. Not to detract from the story, but when the team looked out across the waters from mile zero in Lapataia, it wasn’t the Drake Passage they looked across, but the Beagle Channel. To see the Drake Passage you either ride out to one of the old Estancias about 60 miles east of Ushuaia or sail around Cape Horn and look over your right shoulder, as we did. The KLR is definitely the bike of choice on the Dalton and in Tierra del Fuego. I can’t count the number of GSs I’ve stopped to help pick up on both roads. Thanks for a great reminder of these two amazing parts of the world. If I had a choice today, I’d go back to Tierra del Fuego, despite the winds.

Michael A. Whitby, via email

Spot on Eric, once again, with “The Dangerous Side of Safety!” If I’m driving a car that will apply the brakes for me if necessary, why do I need to pay attention to the road ahead? Of course this whole question gets into the politics of “we elites will take care of you little people,” so I won’t bother you with my political persuasion.
I have an example, though, that goes way back: remember the ERC exercise “Rear Wheel Skid?” When BMW first came out with ABS I would often have riders in my class who said they did not need to do the exercise because they had ABS. I wouldn’t make them do the exercise, of course, but I would always suggest that they try it. Almost without exception they would thank me afterward. Because, as I’m sure you recall, the early versions of ABS would chatter and squeal, which could be disconcerting enough to make riders want to let off on the brake. They had never heard the sound before and were now more prepared to use their brakes properly.
I have heard that when ABS came out in cars there were many crashes that could have been avoided by just keeping brake pressure and not pumping them like we were taught to do with non-ABS. And although I actually like ABS because it has saved by bacon a few times, I think there are too many unintended consequences in the quest to keep us safe.
Thanks again for a great column. You and Clement always vie for top honors (as far as I’m concerned) with your monthly missives.

Tom Overman, via email

“The Dangerous Side of Safety,” by Eric Trow, sure rang home for me in many ways.  He brought up how it effects the NFL and the motorcyclist. As a flight instructor for twenty-plus years, in smaller, single-engine aircraft, it is amazing how easily a pilot can get confused between confidenceand proficiency.How many times have I noticed pilots believe that they can be up to the task, with false confidence,just because there are a lot of screens and information instead of old-fashioned round gauges in front of them. Aircraft, unlike a ball game or even a motorcycle, where you can pull over and think it over, can put you in a bind in seconds. After fifty years on two wheels, some twenty different models later, I love to keep it simple. A BMW Airhead and a GS1100 is as technically advanced as I’d like to be, but I still love to read about the latest technology in Riderevery month.  

Matt Swart, via email

Wow! Thank you so much for the article, “Where the Road Ends,” and additional info on who has made the Darian Gap in Mark Tuttle’s editorial. What a great story. I want more, a documentary please! I’ve ridden solo from Pennsylvania to Prudhoe Bay and back, in the summer, and I’ve  ridden from Vena del Mar, Chile, down the Carretera Austral and through Patagonia to Ushuaia and looped back along the Atlantic through Argentina, so I have some idea of the difficulty…and beauty. As for the Darian Gap, I talked with Helge Pedersen not long after he did it, and he said he’d never do it again. I’ve read of two others doing it, but I didn’t  know about the others mentioned in your editorial. Thanks for the extra info and guide to more great reading. Ridermagazine is the best. Wow, just wow.

Robert Echard, State College, Pennsylvania

Reading Clement’s Retrospective on the Kawasaki KZ400 brought back a lot of memories, both fond and not quite so. The bike pictured in the article looks to be an exact duplicate of the one I purchased in the mid-70s. Put a lot of miles on that bike as a daily driver living in St. Louis. As the article stated I do remember the power to be rather so-so. Due to my using it as an everyday bike I installed a couple of extras, a crash bar and also a clear fairing. The fairing was nice for riding in the rain, but also had its drawbacks. An area that I rode thru every day was a stretch of Highway 40/61 called the Gumbo Flats (or Chesterfield Valley, now that the uppity-ups moved in), which ran parallel to the Mississippi River. Running east/west, it was a completely flat stretch approximately 2-3 miles in length. There were some days I had to battle a rather brisk headwind, and the fairing worked like a reverse parachute. Since the bike was somewhat underpowered even at full throttle, I had to fight to keep it going 60 mph. Other than that I loved that old bike. Reliable and never left me stranded. Now that I think back about it, I believe I sold it to purchase a set of wedding rings. In retrospect, I think I made a good trade–still have the wife after 38 years. Although, in looking at the pictures in this article maybe the bike would have given me less problems.

Paul Kundl, Charlotte, North Carolina

As a young man my dad purchased a little Honda and I thought I had died and gone to heaven. The handlebars would fold over and I could drag it under the fence so I could leave the farm and go explore the country. As I grew older I hade various bikes, but my first street bike was a 1978 Honda 750 Super Sport. It was so quick it didn’t take me long to find the side of a Galaxy 500. They don’t move when you hit ‘em. On into the 2000s I got a Kawasaki Vulcan, which together we hit a Ford Tempo, which also don’t move much when you hit them–my bad this time. 

So the wife says no more bikes! And she won. Well, a few months later this strange vehicle comes to my house pulling a cargo trailer, inside was the Harley she bought me. She said she was tired of me going out on the porch to listen to bikes come by. So for 2017 I’m on the “geezer glide,” loving every minute I have on it and all the conversations with strangers about riding. What a lifestyle.

Jeff Boatright, via email

Rider’s 45th Anniversary issue took me back almost as far, with Clement Salvadori’s Retrospective on the Kawasaki KZ400. “Nice little bike,” he wrote. “Great for commuting, but entirely capable of a cross-country trip.” That’s exactly what I did in 1980 with my 1975 KZ400–a bike I’d purchased for $200 with easily-fixable damage after being driven into a porch. I left San Diego early one morning and headed east, and 8,800 miles later returned with the motor still purring. That little bike took me cross-country, up and down the East Coast from Georgia to New England, and home again, all with kick-start simplicity and reliability. I visited friends scattered across the U.S., camped under the stars, and felt the satisfaction of self-reliance–if stuff happens in your very small traveling world, you have to deal with it. I put over 20,000 miles on that KZ400, and then sold it for twice what I’d paid for it! Reading the article put me in a “retrospective” mood for sure – thanks!

Andy Rowe, via email

Eric Trow’s latest column, “The Dangerous Side of Safety”, reminded me of two things:

First , I have heard that when anti-lock brakes first became available on cars, insurance companies were initially charging owners of those cars higher (not lower) insurance premiums–why? Because the insurance companies noted that those cars were getting involved in accidents at a higher (not lower) rate than cars without ABS. This was, of course, because their drivers were driving faster than they should, thinking that ABS would protect them.

Second, a wise engineer once explained to me that contrary to popular opinion, a car with ABS will NOT be able to stop faster than a car without ABS. The advantage of ABS is that in poor road conditions, when traction is decreased, a car with ABS will allow you to steer while braking, but a car without ABS loses that ability.  

So, to second Mr. Trow (and all other such instructors): when road conditions deteriorate, slow down. Allow greater following distances. And avoid vehicles driving too fast for conditions. The laws of physics still apply, regardless of how many safety features your vehicle has.

Steve Hudock, via email

Clement really hit the nail on the head with “Stupid Things I’ve Done, and Some I Still Do,” in the May issue. Man! I’ve been there…. Like taking off with my tank bag lid flapping open, valuable papers inside nearly disappearing forever. The multiple marriage thing I avoided, as I got it right the first time (strictly by accident), 56 years ago. I did put 11 liters of diesel fuel into my nearly empty GS tank in Beaver, B.C., Canada, once. It seems that in places in Canada, the pump handles for gas and diesel can be any color. As opposed to the lower 48, where we feel secure in assuming diesel pumps will always have a green handle. I think the one I pumped from was gold. Anyway, we drained all we could out of the tank and donated it to the station. After fueling up on three tanks of premium, the bike quit smoking and has gone another 80k miles since with no mechanical difficulties. 

Chuck Thompson, Clarkston, Washington

Source: RiderMagazine.com

The Honda NC750X seems like a good buy, but I don’t want the silly DCT. I’ve been riding motorcycles since 1976. I know how and like to shift. But also, I won’t buy a new bike without ABS! An NC750X with ABS and a standard transmission would be a great bike to add to my stable. If I wanted DCT I’d buy a scooter.

Steve R., via email

First off I was honored to be chosen as the February Letter of the Month person. Secondly, A. C. Reeves’ correction to my letter (Response, April 2019) is absolutely correct. I appreciate that he read my letter and appreciate his accuracy. I quoted the number of provinces as 11 in the interest of efficiency to get to the main point of my letter. A.C., I would love to ship my VTX to Hawaii for a ride with you. I did check into it and haven’t written it off yet. I’d even considered riding all the major islands once the bike is there. So, in correction, I have ridden my Honda VTX 1300 to all the U.S. states except Hawaii and to all of the Canadian provinces and territories except the province of Newfoundland and Labrador, and the territory of Nunavut. Actually a person can ride to Labrador via the Trans-Labrador Highway, but at my age of 70 and without buying a different motorcycle, I probably won’t ride that one. I’ll take the ferry. And I understand Nunavut is very difficult to get to except by air or maybe in a few places by logging road. I plan to attack my Newfoundland and Labrador adventure again in the summer of 2020. I’ll probably ride my Yamaha Venture S. The VTX is a bit long in the tooth (137,000 miles). But you never know.

Jerry Stevens, Flower Mound, Texas

My first motorcycle ride was on a 1968 Honda CB 125, borrowed from a coworker in 1969. I was working after school at a gas station within walking distance of home. Anytime my co-worker would ride that gorgeous blue and white Honda to work, he’d let me take it for a ride. I rode it whenever I could until I graduated from high school in 1971, then enlisting in the Air Force. I bought my first motorcycle in 1972, a brand new Honda CB 350 twin, followed a year later by a new 1973 Honda CB 350F four-cylinder. What followed to the present day was a string of Hondas, Kawasakis, Triumphs, Nortons and, finally, Harleys. And not one of them equipped with a windshield, fairing or radio. One thing they all had in common, though, was they were all appealing to both the eye and the ear. All were individually recognizable. Personally, I’ve always been a minimalist regarding my motorcycles. Today, I cringe when I hear a motorcycle at a stoplight blaring music from its speakers. My opinion until the late 1980s was that anyone paying more than $2,500 for a new motorcycle should be examined for sanity. I have raised that amount today to about $8,000 for a new bike, but I digress.

Fast forward to the present. Over decades of riding, I’ve witnessed motorcycles evolve from basic, unrefined mechanical works of art to today’s refined technological marvels. I’ve quietly tolerated the changes, some good, until now. Today I read an article in Rider for a new motorcycle built by Harley-Davidson that ridiculously infringes on the pure core of the motorcycle. Initially, upon reading the ad I thought it was a joke. This ad belongs in “Mad Magazine,” I thought! My first question to the powers-that-be at H-D is: OMG. Why? I’m talking about its new electric model motorcycle, embarrassingly named LiveWire. Seriously? Really? Have H-D’s sales numbers plummeted to the point that such desperate measures as creating a carnival novelty like an electric-powered motorcycle will actually save its sales numbers? Is H-D’s stock really pegged at 180 degrees?

As an old guy with a Millennial-perceived antiquated vision towards the future of motorcycle building, I say this not only to Harley but to all modern motorcycle manufacturers: STOP THIS MADNESS. PLEASE! JUST STOP IT!!! There are some things that are just plain wrong. It’s too late for Harley, the damage to the image is possibly already done, regardless of how positively it spins the LiveWire. I would not have purchased my current motorcycle, a 2006 Dyna Wide Glide, 13 years ago if it were a Dyna WideWire. How embarrassing. Twenty years from now I don’t see a used LiveWire being advertised as a Classic. As for the other manufacturers, please, don’t look to the future propulsion of motorcycles as being battery-powered; there is no future there. It’s another horrible tree-hugging idea. It’s not even a fair idea. It’s an idea that H-D management should have given its due, then shelved it somewhere in a disguised back room under lock and key never to be discovered. A battery is for starting a motorcycle engine, not powering it. It’s time for motorcycle manufacturers to get back to the majority segment of the market that appreciates motorcycle sight and sound, the way a motorcycle is meant to be seen and heard. A motorcycle with plenty of honest aesthetics, lots of real chrome, real iron under the seat and familiar individual exhaust notes that follow them down the road. Enough of the carbon fiber, black chrome, amateur-looking plastics and alloy girder frames. Enough millennial consumer dart throwing. Get back to pure motorcycle building basics. It works. It’s OK, really.

Donald Herod, via email

I’ve read in a couple cycle mags about how the new alcohol fuels will adversely affect motorcycles. Motorcycles, more than cars, get put away for long periods of time and alcohol fuels tends to gel over long periods of time. These modern fuels don’t gel overnight, do they? When stored for the winter, manufacturers should have a means to drain fuel without making it rocket science. It would be a simple matter to design this drain feature. We used to have valves for switching to reserve gas that could also serve as a drain valves. If we look for solutions instead of finger pointing, modern fuels can be dealt with. Also, we will need larger tanks to deal with the lower fuel mileage modern fuels are known to give us. I know we can overcome problems such as alcohol fuel if we just think about it. I’ve seen more complicated problems and solutions in my lifetime.

Marcel Thomas, Hobart, Indiana

I have been receiving Ridermagazine for many years and really enjoy it. I first started riding motorcycles 64 years ago. I was 17 years old in 1955 and purchased a 1949 Harley-Davidson 74. That summer I did quite a bit of riding. I and four other guys took a trip to Colorado and then up to South Dakota through the Black Hills. It just happened to be the first part of August and the Sturgis motorcycle rally was going on. That was quite an experience. We knew nothing about Sturgis at that time. The next year, 1956, I sold the motorcycle so I could purchase a new car, but I never forgot the fun I had riding. Then, in September of 1975, I purchased a new 1976 Harley-Davidson. The dealer had just gotten new models in. The next summer, my wife and I started long-distance touring. The next 30 years we took almost all of our vacations traveling on motorcycles. We had one accident in 1981 and my wife did get hurt pretty bad. She had one serious knee injury. She continued to ride until 2005 and stopped because her knee bothers her. I continued riding and, in 2001, I retired and now do much more riding. I have owned 16 motorcycles and I am now riding a Cam-Am Spyder. My last three motorcycles were 2008, 2012 and 2015 Gold Wings. I have owned a number of Harleys, several BMWs and four Yamaha Ventures. Last year I rode my Spyder to the Sturgis rally. I have only missed Sturgis four years out of the last 42. Last year I put 22,000 miles on the Spyder; in the last few years I have been averaging about 30,000 a year, and I live in Iowa, so we only have about a seven-to-eight-month riding season. 

Jerry Mathison, Woodbine, Iowa

Recently I have been planning a motorcycle trip westward. Starting at St. Ignace, Michigan, I will pick up U.S. Route 2 and ride all the way to Seattle. A few little side trips along the way will include some of the Canadian provinces and a couple of national parks. Traveling by motorcycle is so much different than driving an automobile. One seems to become part of the natural surroundings instead of just viewing it through a glass window. The mountains and valleys are higher and deeper, the edge of the road is closer, the hills are steeper, the curves sharper and the sky clearer.

The journey through life is much like this motorcycle trip. Metaphorically speaking, we will all drive through it in our own way at our own pace, each with a different route and preferred vehicle, carrying our “baggage” with us. Every mile will bring with it different conditions and changing scenery. Just like we do when we plan a motorcycle trip, we seem to expect, or at least hope, that in life’s journey everything will go just right for us on our trip. We’re sure the weather will cooperate perfectly, the machines will have no mechanical issues, the road surface will be smooth and traffic will be light. Of course, that is not usually the case.

As in life, there are no guarantees. We will surely encounter trials, tough choices, unexpected disappointments, detours, tragedy and sorrow as we travel the road of life. That, in part, is why I am planning this trip. Three days before Christmas 2015, I awoke to find my wife of 22-plus years had unexpectedly died in her sleep. As spring arrived, I was reluctant to start riding again as my partner would no longer be there. After the first few very short rides, however, I began to find some solace in the journey. Since then I have logged many thousands of miles, taken hundreds of pictures, seen untold new places, met numerous fresh faces and carried years of memories with me. Finding comfort, reminiscing and knowing that my wife would encourage me to discover this great big world make the riding experience even that much more enjoyable.

I believe I appreciate life a little more these days and maybe I realize that each day we are given is a chance to begin another journey on the road we call living. It might have already been said by someone else, but for me I will attempt to live like today will be my last, tomorrow will be my greatest and yesterday will have no regrets. We motorcyclists often say that “it’s not the destination, it’s the journey.” Perhaps that is because when you reach your destination, the journey is over.

When you are on your next journey, if you see me on the road, give me a friendly wave and I will wave back.

Rex Goyer, Sycamore, Ohio

Just received the April issue and a couple of questions come to mind. First, on page 14, in an otherwise excellent article about the increase in women’s ownership of motorcycles, you state that, “Nearly one in five motorcycle owners is now female….” This got me to wondering what this woman was before she became a female. Additionally, on page 65, you misquote the lyrics of the John Denver song “Country Roads,” which is a virtual anthem here in West Virginia, inserting the word “Pennsylvania” where “West Virginia” belongs. What Left Coast rock have you been living under to avoid knowing this? Did you intentionally want to insult your readers here in the Mountain State by confusing us with our neighbors to the east? Take me home, Mountain Momma, take me home!

Robert Cissel, somewhere in West Virginia

Longtime subscriber, first time writer. To Mark: after reading your April issue editorial, I became somewhat uneasy because I felt like your time at the helm might be drawing to a close, as I’m sure there are many roads you need to ride. The only thing I have to say is please make sure the magazine doesn’t change! It’s the only moto mag I currently subscribe to because all the others have changed their format and are of no interest to me. I look forward to your magazine every month and I read every article. Thank you and keep up the good work!

Mark Lipsius, Iowa City, Iowa

I have been enjoying your magazine on and off for decades, thank you. The articles have inspired me to continue riding, which I started on a Honda 50 in 1965 and now at 68 years old I’m still going at it. I’ve owned many bikes over the years, all serving different purposes, from a 1973 BMW /5 “toaster” to owning three bikes now: an ‘81 BMW GS, a 1997 Honda VFR and, what I’m writing about now, a 1975 Honda XL350. I keep telling myself that I need to pare down but it hasn’t happened as yet! Anyway, I noticed with great interest the August 2018 Retrospectivearticle about the Yamaha Enduro 500. Question, did the Honda XL 350 have the same compression release feature?  I am having a nearly impossible time getting the 350 kicked over as it only has a kick starter. I mostly jumpstart it on inclines, though sometimes I’m on flat terrain so that doesn’t work. Thanks for any input and keep up the great magazine!

Charlie, Baughman, Arlington, Virginia

As a Rider magazine reader and long time biker, your April Retrospective article really hit home. I have ridden on two wheels for almost all of my 71 years on this earth. Mind you it has only been the last 55 with a motor between my legs. In that time I have owned a variety of motorized machines. I told my then girlfriend and now my wife of 50 years, that I would always have a motorcycle, period. She said she understood, but I am not so sure she knew what was in store. My first adventure was a Travis bike motor mounted to the front of my Schwinn. I went through at least four tires in one summer. After moving up to a real motorcycle and going through a number of “fix up specials,” I fell in love with a Honda. In my case, Honda number one was a 1964 Benly or, as some referred to it, a baby Dream. My next was a 1969 CB350. This is where your article brought back some great memories. That 350 was a huge step up from my 150cc Benly and the previous owner had put 12-inch apes on it, so finally I was cool. All of the ribbing I took with the Benly was behind me. I rode that 350 proudly for nearly a decade and then, as the last sentence of your article suggests, I bought a 1978 CB750. Mine was a K model in shiny black. And believe it or not, when I bought my 750, it was considered a “big” bike. And in many ways it was…tall, heavy and four cylinders stuck between your legs. I rode the K for nearly 20 years until I did the unthinkable. A shiny red Yamaha V-Star 1300 sits in my garage now. Forgive me.

Bill Peery, Arlington Heights, Illinois

I love your article April 2019 page 40 on the “Class-Bending Commuter.” I am 78 years old and have four motorcycles, and my newest one is a Honda NC750X DCT that I got last September. I love this bike; the two best things about it are the automatic transmission and the front brake, which is the best one that I have ever had. I now have 3,700 miles on it. But it’s not perfect. The suspension is too firm, but with the Air Hawk seat cushion it feels better. I do not think that the 270-degree firing order is a good idea, I think 180 degrees is much smother and better. You have to lift the back seat to put gas in the small 3.7-gallon gas tank, not a good idea when touring with things tied over it. Small, round foot pegs. Very little engine braking. No oil sight window, an old style dip stick only, and this is 2019. No highway pegs or crash bar available, either Honda or aftermarket. Your article states, “With the DCT you get HSTC and ABS, which applies front brake when the rear is applied.” I am not sure that this is a good idea. I have always known when you are leaning and turning on dirt, sand, rocks or mud you do not want to put any pressure on the front brake, because you will go down. But I love this motorcycle.

Rodger Terry, Bethel Island, California

As I read Clement Salvadori’s article, “Adventure? What’s That,” in the April 2019 issue, I could not help but think of an adventure I had several years ago. Three riding buddies and I were following my pre-printed directions that I obtained off a popular website, allowing us to travel a “different” route to our destination. We were all on street-oriented motorcycles, including two that were quite pricey with chrome aplenty. We only traveled about 100 yards before we realized this new route did not meet our normal expectations. The road turned to dirt, then became littered with fist-sized rocks on the surface, lined with abandoned houses with broken windows and no sign of civilization. We thought of turning back, but decided we would press forward despite me swearing I heard banjo music. After taking more than an hour to travel several miles on this single-lane, muddy road, we ended up on the main road about 300 yards from where we started. To this day, I still laugh at our mud-splattered street bike “adventure.” Despite our failed journey, it was quite entertaining and memorable.

Spencer Lewis, via email

To the Editor:

My buddy John first handed me an issue of Riderin the early 1990s. I’m a writer by profession and a rider by passion, and right away I liked the magazine’s editorial style. Clearly, the people who put the publication together were riders themselves. Over the years I’ve subscribed to several moto mags, but Riderhas always been the one that speaks to me.

Nearly two decades ago, I had an epiphany: “I’m a writer and a rider, I should write for Rider.” So I looked up the guidelines for contributors and made my story pitch to the editor, one Mark Tuttle, Jr. His reply included this key sentence: “We would be interested in examining the article in question on speculation.” I submitted my story, it was accepted (!!) and in the years since my work has appeared in Riderdozens of times. (It’s hard to convey how cool that is.)

Ridercontinues to be my favorite magazine, in large measure because Mark Tuttle’s stamp is on every issue. Recently, I met Mark for the first time and it was like meeting an old friend. He’s a motorcycle guy, just like the rest of us. Mark, on behalf of riders and readers everywhere, thanks for putting out the best motorcycle magazine out there, month after month, for 30 years.

Scott ‘Bones’ Williams, Wilbraham, Massachusetts

I always read Ridermagazine cover to cover, and look forward to the Retrospectivearticle. The April issue featured the Honda 350 lineup from the late 1960s on. My first bike was a 1970 CL 350, bought used in 1972. It was used as a commuter vehicle for years, as well as a “dating” vehicle for a few months. Even had a serious accident (involving 15 cars, 2 semis and one motorcyclist) once. About a year after buying it, I got married and the wife and I used it for nearly everything, as 1973 brought about the first Arab oil embargo and higher gas prices. We look back on it fondly now, and I wish I still had it. My wife would ask the grocery store clerks to make sure everything fit in two sacks so she could hold it all while leaning against the sissy bar on the way home. Good memories.

Loren Stephenson, Sand Springs, Oklahoma

Mark Tuttle’s “Winter Riding Motivation” (One-Track Mind, March 2019) was a fantastic overview of winter gear. One line, though, gave me a good laugh: “With the right setup you can be comfortable in temperatures down into the 30s.” “Winter” definitely doesn’t mean the same thing across this continent. Temperatures in the 30s is a nice spring day in some locales. A quality base layer is a must. Electric gear won’t get you in the saddle, it’ll just keep you there longer. Temps in the teens with no wind and a sunny sky make for a fantastic winter ride! Throw on a snowmobile suit when it really gets cold. Call me crazy (or just call me an Illinoisan) but with the right setup you can be comfortable regardless of temperature.

Rob Kirbach, Glen Carbon, Illinois

I started riding motorcycles in 2006, when I was 54 years old. Now I’m 67, and I always say to myself, “Why did I start so late?” I’m on my third bike; I’ve owned two Sportsters and now, since I’m older, I bought a Honda CTX700. The bike is perfect for me: it’s comfortable and takes the bumps easy. I know I’m in complete control. The reason I’m writing is to tell you that your magazine is by far the best read. As a lover of our American history, I thoroughly enjoy your articles. They get me planning all of the wonderful places I can visit this summer. My plans are in full swing! 

Henry Siuda, via email

This is directed to Jenny Smith, who wrote the review in the April issue on the Honda NC750X. I just want to clarify something. She said the bike would be a good tourer at the end of her article. Does that mean it would be a good bike to take across the country on long tours? Or is that for short tours? I hope it is capable of longer tours, as I’ve been considering this bike for some time. I’m talking 400-mile days at times. Thank you so much and love your magazine. Best one out there and good luck to all the staff.

Carl Hoobler, Granbury, Texas

As a 25-year-plus reader of your magazine, I’m on the wrong side of 60, and my commuting days were in the ‘80s and ‘90s on various UJMs (Universal Japanese Motorcycles). Your review of the NC750X makes me feel old–and a little ill. My admiration for Asian engineering and production knows no bounds, but their frequent foray into cartoonish, pointy plastic design violates my American sense of the motorcycle archetype. Now an automatic transmission? I appreciate the emotional need for younger engineers to reinvent the wheel, but come on–stop hiding the engine and gas tank! Then maybe you’ll stop losing customers to Triumph and Harley. PS: The handlebars look a little wide for lane splitting.

Don Holmes, Nashville, Tennessee

Don’t know what kind of bike you were riding when you left the petcock on “Prime,” but on my two Suzukis from the 1980s, when I left the petcock on Prime (sometimes for days), they ran and started without apparent problems. However, the Prime setting taps fuel from the reserve tank, so if you run out of gas, you really are out of gas. I found this out the hard way. Al Einstein had a great expression to cover this situation: “Two things are infinite: the universe, and human stupidity. And I’m not sure about the universe….” And this was before our current president took office!

Randy D., via email

Here are the bikes I’ve owned, in order (all purchased new except the last one): ’97 BMW R 850 R, ’00 Honda Valkyrie Interstate, ’07 Suzuki Burgman 650 Exec, ’12 Victory Cross Country Tour, ’08 Suzuki Burgman 650 Exec. My feet have been progressively moving forward (well, the last three are about the same). I can only afford, in terms of space and money, one bike at a time, and as much as I love twisties, I often do long highway slogs to get to them (or visit relatives, or ride to MotoGP races, etc.). My aging knees–I’m 71 years old, I started riding late–just can’t take being bent back for long periods. And I’m not a fan of highway pegs for assorted reasons. So that leaves cruiser, or cruiser-ish, bikes. The Big Burger is especially good in this respect, because with no controls for them to work your feet are always “free to move about the cabin.” And so my longest days have been aboard it. Oh, along with a couple of “non-sportbike” track days.

Bill Pollack, Niskayuna, New York

Was glad to see Rider picked up Ari Henning as a garage-problem guru and, hopefully, full-time writer and tester of new bikes. I tried duplicating his and Brian Catterson’s skills on the curves many miles ago, but no success. We shared some funny emails, including one project I think we were working on at the same time, thousands of miles apart. That was our electric ‘cycle, powered by a rider wearing a suit completely covered with solar cells, but alas, rainstorms proved to be a “shocking” failure. Great times reading “Motorcyclist,” even though I didn’t always agree with “Catman.” That dude, if cut, would bleed Ducati red. Always turned to the problem column first, then letters and finally what new crotch rocket Ari was airing out at the time. Glad you’re back, Ari. Always wondered how you and Zack Courts made out on the dual editor thing.  

Ari, if you see Catterson, tell him he is lodged in my memory banks forever. You guys rocked in those crazy, lazy days when bikes looked like bikes and not Star Wars, or those toys that, if twisted correctly, make seventeen different things. Yep, still have my beautiful Honda 700SC Nighthawk, 36k on the clock, new Pirellis on the wheels and looking to try it one more summer–at 83 years young. Will probably be a bit rusty, because I put it up on blocks and drained it to take care of my dear wife of 62 years before she left me in December.

Ah, the good old years, her on her brand-new Benelli Cobra 125 café racer that had been juiced up just enough and me astride my new Honda CB160. At 21 and 25, life was very, very good. Since she knew I had spent 15 months laid up from a left turn by a drunk in a Dodge, she’d said, “You buy a motorcycle and I am gone.” Hell, I bought two, the Honda and, as we walked out of the place, the owner said I could take the Benelli and pay him whenever for 200 bills. I remember her first comment after nailing how to manage the Benelli, “It is like my old bicycle, but I don’t have to pedal.” Again, glad to see your name in print, Ari, and I guess if you stay I’ll re-up Rider again.

Pete Payne, via email

Source: RiderMagazine.com