caterwauls |
allusions to illusions in steel |
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1989 Suzuki Katana 1100
They say it'll go 174 mph! I don't want to be on if it does. GSX 1100F k
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Aside from batteries, brake pads and tires, this bike has cost me little in maintenance since new. The 136 HP dohc 16 valve 1127 cc engine, even after 32 years has phenomenal power. The wide seat is comfortable for day long cruising and the ABS plastic farings are in great shape. Many think it is a new bike and it has been totally reliable and pleasurable to own. I am now on collector plates! How could I not love my Suzuki? |
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old codgers codging | short standers standing | need anything else? | Seton Lake lunchtime |
Vital Mission the secret ride of a motorcycle enthusiast
Dawn. The eastern horizon is torn
with dark gray cloud over an amber glow. I can see my breath in the
chill air. Motorcycles. Do their images evoke subliminal illusions? Spitfire dreams? Like those illustrious WWII aircraft? Perhaps. A secret life begins as a private emotion washing over me when I swing my leg over the seat of my Suzuki 1100 Katana. The rush as the engine catches takes the gray out of my hair, erases the creases from my tired countenance and dispels the lethargy from my limbs. A foot twitch, a snick into first gear and I’m taking off on a two wheeled time machine. Age has thundered by and I am now a man with a worn face and worn leathers wearing a red bandana and a steel knuckle attitude. Worn but not worn out. Yet I can be a courageous young pilot climbing into a perilous sky, venturing into a hidden, fantasy realm. Twist my wrist. Department of Acceleration - Ministry of Speed. Churning horsepower. Leave my heart in a little tray at the starting line, come back for a gulp of blood in five seconds - back in ten for a pint of nerve. I simply have to sit there to clear out my cholesterol. Triple bypass in steel. Motorcycles crammed into showrooms are like impatient packs of hunting hounds to me. Ready to go, anxious to run. Cry Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war - and Shakespeare never laid eyes on a motorcycle. The sleek Katana attracted me the moment I saw it crouching amid those other glinty-eyed mechanical beasts, vents and scoops expressing the Science of Swift. Superb paint; a slippery black glinting of blue in angled light like a scintillation of midnight sky. The electric windscreen can be thumbed up and down like a Star Wars deflector shield. ‘Use the force, Luke.’ The Whirling Dervish wheels are doing ninety at standstill, the drill pattern in the discs like a power saw blade, slicing into the wind, cutting down the miles. This is the Samarai long sword with which to slay the gray dragon of dreariness. Steal his fire and stoke my furnace. This bike has ABS, an Anti Boredom System. Who needs to stop? Just go. Down the road, over the hills, playing the Sea to Sky highway, singing across the Tyrol or whispering through the hush of the Dordogne Valley into Lifetime. I know where oblivion is and I can hide there. The game is afoot. You’ll catch a glimpse of me slashing across the pavement, a stab of sunlight and I’m gone, chasing my vanished youth if you like. But now I am a young rider, alert, aggressive, pitched forward with deliberate intent - from a line of William Aytoun; Like a tempest down the ridges, swept the hurricane of steel. I am a Royal Knight plunging fearlessly into the dark den of danger, reigning my black champing steed, brandishing a flashing Excalibur. A dauntless paladin in the lists who gives no quarter and asks none. Vanquishing the chimera of languor. No need for fear because I’m loyal to the Order. And I can liquidly morph right there before your eyes. Become a floating osprey, free on the thick morning air, drifting, knowing a capricious wind, plummeting out of a sapphire sky as a swift aerial predator raking the water surface with talons of carbon steel. My Katana is a lunging black panther. It has STEALTH too. I can sneak up on some non-dreamer and suck his soul into the air scoops, ram it through the engine and waft it out in misty patches of white fog to hang over the highway as a hot, acrid scent. Such is the fate of the left-brained. There’s no other sign that I have passed this way. But do I need a bike that goes fast enough to project me into space? A flaming firebrand that will sling me around the sun in elliptical orbit? Can I pour in a slick verve with the fresh oil? Fill the tank with high octane courage? I am quiet strength with potential potency. Fury lurks beneath my steady gaze. Do I need to answer questions? I slide alongside the pearlescent white of a long frothing beach - throbbing engine, rumbling surf, motocross waves, frosty spray - then sweep skyward as a spiraling eagle until my clarion exhaust howl calls forth angels, six-winged seraphim standing sentry over a sacred place. Michael, my guardian angel, allows me safety amid his pillared heavens. I touch his cool stainless sword. I am sunlight glinting through storm clouds. My machinery is black and purple and silver against a teal and ultramarine sky. Mauve streaks of cloud reflect on the faring and free-form silhouettes are shadowed against the polish. Artistic distortion. There are a hundred stunning abstracts in those murky reflections, flowing colour, melting fusing images. Inspiration. Work of art? For sure. Art in motorcycles? Yes. They are in the Guggenheim. Good design breeds functional art. The Admiralty issue long-barreled Luger has it. A Mont Blanc ‘Meisterstück’ fountain pen has it - the 1970s Maserati Ghibli. The Suzuki Nuda is Museum of Modern Art material, as is the Harley Davidson Softtail Springer, and my friend’s Vincent Black Shadow if he still has it. What of Lawrence of Arabia’s Brough Superior? Nortons? Ducatis? Indians? Of course they are art. So are the graceful Supermarine Spitfires in powdered skies. And the images of mystique summoned by motorcycle names! Black Prince, Ninja, Fat Boy, Manx, Vulcan, Royal Enfield. Two Velocettes have been on my mind for years after seeing them one squall-threatened, darkening night at a deserted Canadian border crossing. One had burnished gold accents over its black and the other had writing on the front fender - ‘Venom Thruxton.’ The leathered riders attended to their business with an aura of mystery as I watched their small tail-lights fade into the mottled moonscape. I have a sepia photograph of my father, taken on his 1928 Harley and my son has the Suzuki Intruder. They look heroic on their bikes. And my daughter rides a Harley like a blonde valkyrie, forcing the beast to obey her capricious whims. And yes, I too, am drawn to these image enhancers, accomplices who will aid me in my furtive fight against time, those who’ll lie to me with sweet-orange breath and sibilant whispers. But I don’t see myself as a knee-down, spark-spurting racer. I am too old for that. Pain and torture are not my thing. Yet I don’t mind being stung a little. Challenged. Maybe I’m a goggled dispatch rider carrying a secret message, aware of my imperative purpose, codes hidden in my head - steganography - concealing the very existence of a cryptic cipher. Invisible inks swiftly melting into the fabric countryside. Sound absorbed by the tall grasses. Now I’m gone. No, it’s not all machismo. I don’t think of any motorcycle as a subjected woman. A paramour. There’s no conquest here. I’m a simple dreamer, thinking of a bike more as a fine chestnut horse who can be my trusted friend, waits patiently for my call and understands when I can’t make it. Always likes me. Perhaps I am the mythological Rinaldo on Bayard. Now there’s silence. No soundtrack. I’m remote viewing myself as though filming from a helicopter. I’m alone down there on the road. It’s early evening, amber sunlight slants over the landscape. The cliff-edge grass is liquid topaz, undulating waves in rhythm with a hammered gold sea. Pungent aromas linger as invisible vapors above the pavement. I glide through them, smelling, sampling, tasting. The wanton wind whispers lascivious suggestions in my ears. I’m pressed into the seat, dangerously close to sensory overload, dangerously close to disappearing forever into the galactic mists. Punch it on this straight, feel the surge, don’t slow too much for the curve. Do I look good? Twilight spreads a cobalt sky. Not to hurry. I like country roads at night on a bike. Navigating by starlight. I rely on Orion to protect me and Polaris to guide me home. The salubrious air is heavy with the smell of harvest hay and horses and there’s something comforting in the vision of lonely yellow lights swaying beside dark barn shapes and the bel canto sounds of barking farm dogs. I vanish into the dusk as a silent, hunting owl. Rara avis. Stardust settles on the landscape. Do you understand? There is a secret, tantalizing seduction going on here and I don’t want to diminish it. A typhoon of fantasy spills over me when I ride, transporting me noiselessly into the liquescence of another dimension, blissfully far from reality yet rapturously close to the very core of life, contemplating its tints and shades. The fragrance of clover, the pungency of summer grass, the bite of the wind. I’m experiencing every nuance of sensory perception. An irrepressible feeling bubbles out of old bones like a slow leak in a wet inner tube. Oozing. Hissing if I listen close enough. Whatever revelations come sweeping out of the crevices of my mind, harsh and dried like a desert sirocco or as a blustery winter tempest, I will be ready for. I’m adhering to that mystic, esoteric religion of free spirit. The effect of my actions determining my destiny - Karma. It’s been said you can die from riding a motorcycle - You can die from being alive - and I’m a devoted disciple perfecting the Art of Dying. Going around THIS time. To paraphrase Arthur Stanley; I claim no throne, I only ask to share, the common liberty, of earth and air. I’m filing a flight plan for an ethereal, secret journey. A secret ride, in a secret sky.
.... Hit the kill switch .... Salute my squadron commander .... Vital mission completed again .....
Someday, we may not return, but for now ..... some of us young devil defying pilots have Michael the Guardian Angel at our side.
LAND © 1998 by R.C. Westerholm
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meanderings
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Velocette Venom Thruxton |
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About eleven hundred of the 500cc bikes were produced in Birmingham, England in 1966. But in spite of the superb quality and engineering, by the end of the decade, Velocette was no more. They could get up to 120 mph. In 1967, two Venom Thruxtons were entered in the 500 cc production TT on the Isle of Man and they finished 1st and 2nd! The winner, Neil Kelly was clocked at 129 mph on his road-going single! The Venom set the 24 hour record of over 100 mph including fuel, rider, tire and chain change stops. This record still stands! Not bad for 47 hp and drum brakes. Today Velocettes are treasured by their owners everywhere, caringly restored and looked after, and appreciatively ridden. I still hope to own one someday! |
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Fast is fast but there is something to be said about meandering too. |
Li'l metal motorbikers -
circa 1930s
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These are stunt riders! Don't try this at home!
The
teeny bikers are less than 2 inches long, all metal, seem like hard rubber
tires, probably made in Britain. They sorta look like WWII dispatch riders on a
secret mission.
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real one
The Duffy Lake loop - a motorcyclist's dream ride
click image to enlarge - back button to return
Fill your tank, check your tires and RIDE! Wear your leathers. Look cool. Pack your lunch and snacks, you won't want to go inside anywhere along this route. And don't forget your camera. The whole trip is about 500 km or 350 miles and can be done in a meandering day, Vancouver to Vancouver all on paved roads. You'll see astounding country all along the way and know why British Columbia is called SuperNatural. The fun starts after Whistler when you're likely to have the road all to yourself on a sunny weekday. Leave about 7:30 am and Pemberton is about 2 and a half hours, 157 km. You could be in Lillooet by lunchtime and Boston Bar, 365 km, by about 2 pm. But why hurry? Let the spectacular scenery imbue your soul with exhilaration! From Vancouver you go north across the Lions Gate bridge through West Vancouver to Horseshoe Bay and along the cliff-edged Sea-to-Sky Highway overlooking beautiful Howe Sound to Squamish - twist your way on to the world's number one ski resort, Whistler-Blackcomb, but this is not about cold winter fun, so pass up the tourists and get on into the warm back country. Now it gets wonderfully quiet on the road - winding through craggy hills to Pemberton - rest stop in the valley entrance - then east past small farms, ranches and First Nation rodeos to Mount Currie and Lillooet Lake - begin the climb into the Big Sky country of the majestic Cayoosh Range mountains to the Joffrey Lakes area - onto the high plateau to narrow Duffy Lake, always with snowcapped views, even in midsummer - then into shaded caverns and rocky canyons beside cascading icy cold torrents. Now you're plunging one minute, then climbing into crisp cool air the next. And you're never far from forest vistas, high green meadows, fresh water or breathtaking glacial peaks. Your only danger here is euphoria. Then drop again to Seton Lake, a great overlook lunch stop before moving into dry country Lillooet - you are half way around! - Cross the Fraser and head south on highway 12 toward Lytton on undulating road alongside the mighty Fraser River and pine clad mountains - Lytton, often the hottest place in Canada, is where the Thompson River freshens the Fraser - join the #1 Highway and continue south on fast road to Boston Bar and a series of tunnels and deserted homesteads - weathered reminders of Caribou Gold Rush days, you might even sight a lonely camel. The air becomes cooler now and the terrain changes again into the coastal climate with the pines thinning out - choose between taking the Hope route west on Freeway #1 through the Fraser Valley or the Lougheed Hwy route north side of the Fraser for a slower more countryside ride. You could have seen mountain sheep, mountain goats, black bear, deer, osprey, bald eagles, magpies, hawks, ravens, weasels, and our friendly Canada jays, who will steal your lunch if they can. The round trip is best taken in a whole day with time for plenty of photography stops and snacks beside blue lakes, cool streams and farms or lofty dramatic mountains. Vancouver to Lillooet is halfway (261 km) and there's a wonderful rest point beside Duffy Lake or above Seton Lake for your lunch. In case you're having a bet about those tunnels between Boston Bar and Hope, here they are - North to South - China Bar, Ferrabee, Hell's Gate, Alexandra, Sailor Bar, Saddle Rock and Yale. The Duffy Lake loop is a famous perfect ride for any motorcycle enthusiast, no matter what bike you ride. And it lends itself to a meandering, leisurely tour. A purist's dream road through British Columbia's abundant wilderness that'll leave you breathless, grounded, and wanting another go around. The plunge into our awesome realm of nature will make you feel small .... and that's a big thing! Go do it!
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You can also follow this route on Google Earth via Hwy
99 - Hwy 12 - Hwy 1 (or Lougheed Hwy) - with many more uploaded pictures available. In the book Destination Highways, this road is DH23. |
NOW!
- see the Lillooet - Pavilion - Marble
Canyon - Cache Creek - Lytton leg of this loop here >
Why I say WOW on a
motorcycle ride through BC High Country, all
within short hours of Vancouver. |
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solitude is precious
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Anyone know what these are? Usually seen on fence posts between Princeton, Merritt, Logan Lake. They appear to be about a 14 inch high bird house and have a metal plaque attached which says; Southern Interior Bluebird Trail phone 499- 2121 Oliver, B.C. The phone number seems outdated, and the houses appear to be used. I wonder if they are part of some bird conservation project? Or an encouragement to have beneficial birds nesting near crops? I wonder if Western Bluebirds are what they are for. As they are very beneficial to crops I assume it is so. Drop me an email if you know about these little bird houses. Do ornithology and motorcycling go together? You bet they do, one of the reasons we are attracted to motorcycles is because we are basically travelling outdoors! |
some current lusts | ||||
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2021 BMW S1000rr | 1986 Susuki Nuda Concept | 1994 Ducati 916 | ||
For years BMW kept their horse power down because of government concerns over speed, then they came to their senses and evolved this one of 205 hp to get over 200 mph right out of the box! |
Daring design, but alas, not in production. You can see one at the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain! And lust over the sleek package of wild imagination! |
Beauty in the eye of every Italian beholder! The Superbike with smooth fabulous power and a style all it's own! Not for Via Veneto cruising, but perfect for the tangled Tuscan curves. |
Nice site about the B.C. for motorcycle riding
genetically correct | from my C&W song - Softtail Springer | |
![]() My dad on his 1928 Harley
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Motorcycle rider, trackin' the road, I
got freedom in my saddlebags ain't no heavy load. Got no destination, I ride
with no plan. See me passin' by, a motorcyclin’ man.
Feel that rumble, hear that roar? If it ain't makin' thunder tell me what is
it for? Fight the
revolution goin' on in my head. Pounding evolution painted sweet candy red. CHORUS;
Softtail Springer, across the big sky, chrome plated winger, Dragon-fire demons, and deadly dark flights, I own the days, but she owns the nights.
Ain't no cure, for lovin' her so, and I heard the street whisper why can't I
let go? She's a
lyin' down woman, with flirtin' green eyes, ... a Softtail Springer Harley Davidson man.
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My son on his 2012 Harley ...
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Copyright 1994 R.C. Westerholm (SOCAN) |
One of the first jobs I ever had was driving a Harley Servicar to pick up customer's cars for servicing at Johnson Motors in Vancouver. I was 15. You rode the bike to the customer's home or place of business, attached a trailer hitch similar to what you see here to the car's rear bumper and drove the vehicle towing the bike wherever you needed to go. Note the gear shift lever beside the gas tank. I had the Harley on two wheels once, on the curved ramp from Hemlock Street onto the Granville bridge. Unintended of course. Scary even for a teenager full of guts and stupidity. You don't lean into a turn on a 3 wheeled Harley, you slow down! The job was fun until they fired me. |
Billy Connelly - Route 66 - 4 episodes on PBS
Billy Connelly Route 66 on a Trike
Are you lusting for a bike? Middle age rebellion? Recalling teen years of freedom? Maybe you're thinking of buying one now that you can afford it. Might be a good idea to take a refresher course from your local Motorcycle Safety Foundation. At least read about what you're getting into if you have not been in the saddle for many years - Tuning-Up-for-Riders Motorcycle Safety Foundation - www.ridertraining.org Motorcycle maintenance tips - You can always remember something you've forgotten or learn something new that could make your ride safer - http://www.motosport.com/motorcycle/category/Motorcycle-Parts/motorcycle-maintenance-tips Motorcycle Safety Foundation - USA - pick your state - http://www.msf-usa.org/ Motorcycle Safety Foundation training is highly recommended - Experts take you through every conceivable situation for riding a bike - Making your riding safer and more enjoyable. Destination Highways - http://www.destinationhighways.com/dh/Current Feature/3.htm A fantastic series of books with detailed road rides - You can even click to see streaming media taken from a helmet cam travelling the actual road you want to try! Suzuki Canada - http://www.suzuki.ca/ - Here you can see Suzuki's fabulous Hayabusa and the M109R Trev Deeley Vancouver - Harley Davidson motorcycles - (ask them about their free museum too) - http://www.trevdeeley.com/British Motorcycle Owners Club - for those who like fish-tail exhaust pipes and fish & chips - http://www.bmoc.ca/index.html Excellent information here on British Columbia roads - http://www.drivebc.ca/ Langley RoadRiders Motorcycle Club - welcomes guest riders - Langley Roadriders.com Greater Vancouver Motorcycle Club - celebrating 88 years! - http://www.gvmc.ca/ Border Riders MC Club - For Washington, Oregon & British Columbia gay men - Border Rriders.com Coast Riders Motorcycle Club -
http://www.coastriders.ca/
A nice site about riding in Europe - http://www.lazymotorbike.eu/ Vancouver Motorcycle Show - January, 2023 - Tradex - Now 3 days! - http://www.vancouvermotorcycleshow.ca/ Worthy cause - Vancouver annual Christmas toy run - TBA October, 2022 - Fraser Valley Toy Run - Sunday October , 2022 - Look for one in your area, they are fun to watch or participate in when everyone brings their bike for the last ride of autumn and tales of daring-do. 2023 TT Race schedule - May 30 - June 4 - https://iomttraces.com/racing/page/2023-schedule/ |
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Scott, living to ride, riding to live
to 4 wheels
Bimmer vs Beamer. Even the
Munich factory in Bavaria makes the distinction that a Bimmer, is the
automobile, and a Beamer, is the BMW motorcycle. Become Sie den
Terminologie, korrigiert bitte. It is important. Ja?
300SL
The oldies and a goodie
La Bomba There
is the Mini Cooper S of today and then there are the
REAL Mini Coopers - this one would get over 125 mph and scare
the daylights out of an uneducated passenger.
Minis were the original muscle
cars, and at the hands of drivers like Timo Makinen and Paddy Hopkirk, won the
Monte Carlo rally three years in a row until the French disqualified them the
fourth year for wrong driving lights! Mine was the 1275 cc full racing Cooper S
specs and total fun to play in. People who didn't know them were amazed at the
performance. You could just put your foot down and steer! On a tight windy road,
well, there was that time when the cops .... er ... oh never mind. A guy named Wray Nixon appeared at Westwood Mountain High
race track one year and wowed the spectators AND his competitors by being
clocked on the back straight at 147 miles per hour in his Mini Cooper S! The black 777 car was
fast. I have been lucky enough to own seven Minis over the years.
Mostly practical little bricks for whatever use, but some, like the Orange La Bomba,
seemed to grin at you from the driveway, knowing you couldn't resist taking him
out. And when you did, he said, "See what fun you were missing?" and you
grinned back with inner pleasure, sharing your secret with the little Morris that Eclestone mounted racing slicks on a street car were illegal but oh what fun to just go.
Long live the real Mini!
the Cooper S at Westwood
Classic Mini Racing "They are more like little people ..." And if you really want to know why Minis are so
loved - - -
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PS7IhbLMqU&feature=youtu.be
Thanks. Ciao amici.
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There are 10 kinds of people in the world ... those who can read binary, and those who can't.
coming events for auto and bike enthusiasts - - -
Vancouver International Auto Show - March 22-26, 2023- Van Convention Center - Vancouver Auto Show 24 Hours of Le Mans race 2023 - June 10-11, Le Mans, France - https://www.https://www.lemans.org/en/24-hours-of-le-mans Confederation of Autosport Clubs -
http://caccautosport.org/
Mission Historic Motor races - http://www.bchmr.ca/ - Mission Raceway Park - May13-14 2023. A great event to appreciate those vintage race cars and there are many in B.C.. Langley Good Times Cruise-in - Saturday in Sept 09, 2023 - 100s of fab cars to see, a great event, bring your lunch - http://www.langleycruise-in.com/
Sports Car Club of BC - Westwood Circuit is no more. Stop sniffling now. Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance - the world's best - http://www.pebblebeachconcours.net/
Top Gear web show - and Jeremy Clarkson too - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaZExdTHHjY?Top+Gear+fun= (unfortunately Jeremy has left the BBC but there are plenty of entertaining episodes still on YouTube.) Classic and Sports Car Magazine - http://www.classicandsportscar.com - browse forever! Formula One - worlds greatest racing - can Verstappen repeat? - http://www.formula1.com/
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Pssst! Oh yeah, that best restaurant I promised? It's on Auntie Jane's
yummies page. -
All writing
and photography ©
RC Westerholm |
website design
- Once in a Blue Moon Productions - Vancouver BC |
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