A Relaxing Day on the Bodensee

Sunday June 25, 2011

Today, Sunday, is an odd continuation of my departure day. Those of you who have flown to Europe are familiar with the curious realization that though you've not yet finished the day you were in, when you land in Europe, you're already starting the next one! I did my best to prepare for this by sleeping after dinner was served on the plane, and was successful in getting about 5 hours of uninterrupted rest. That and the general excitement of seeing old friends and a new environment kept me awake and refreshed well into Sunday.

My arrival in Zurich was without incident and, as promised, Ron was waiting for me after I cleared Swiss customs, which was uneventful. Unteruhldingen, the German village where Ron and family live, lies on the north shore of Lake Constance, known to Germans as Bodensee. Though there are routes around the lake, Ron decided we should take the ferry across, and we spent 30 minutes or so on the ride enjoying the beautiful weather - apparently it and I arrived simultaneously.

We had planned this to be a "low key" day in anticipation of my being jet-lagged, so Ron shared some of the local culture and flavor with me. Ron, Christi, and I walked along the lakefront as he expertly played tour guide - answering my questions, translating the maddening German language ("V" is pronounced "F", "W" is pronunced "V", and there's a large, pregnant-looking "B" that is actually "ss") And all of this is before ANY of the accent marks, modifiers, and such. The Germans have a curious habit of creating new words by splicing two or more existing words together into a 30-plus letter conglomeration obviously intended to confound North American minds and tongues. Mission accomplished.

Kudos to the Germans for being trailblazers in "green" living. They recycle EVERYTHING, partly evidenced by the separate bins for different types of trash in public places. This is nothing but a great idea, and makes me want to rethink my lack of recycling effort.



We're off to visit famous castles on Monday.

Journey to the Old World

Saturday June 25, 2011

Well, today's the day. After months of planning, emails, phone calls, logistical problems, stress, and - well, you get the picture - I'm sitting at Little Rock airport waiting to board the first of three legs in my first journey to continental Europe. The purpose? Two weeks of touring through Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, and France.

The protagonists for this trip include ME of course, and my lifelong friend and riding partner Ron Rogers. If you have read any of the previous entries in this literary masterpiece, you'll recognize us from our last 2-wheeled get-together back in the summer of 2006. Ron has been living with his family and working in southern Germany for several years now, and has spent the entirety of the time pestering me to visit and enticing me with volumes of photos of stellar motorcycling roads. It took a very few moments to convince me to come, and months to make it happen. Regrettably, my son Connor opted to stay stateside and though I'll really miss his being here, he had his reasons to opt out I guess.

Flying wasn't a great joy BEFORE 9/11, but it is a real chore these days. Of course, as time has gone by we've adapted to removing our shoes and getting through a vacation with only 3 ounces of deodorant and shampoo. (the latter not so bad for me!). Just because we can do it doesn't make it enjoyable. The only thing to advocate for air travel is getting there quickly.

So I sit, jealously guarding my phone-charging spot here at Washington Dulles while I wait for the coveted "100%" indicator, and pondering the aftermath of the Wolfgang Puck airport pizza I tossed down quickly at Chicago - O'Hare. Next stop - Zurich, Switzerland.

In Praise of "Less is More"

Maybe I'm just getting old, maybe things really do come full circle. I'm talking about motorcycles here - and my recent rediscovery of smaller, lighter, simpler machines.

If you know me, you already know I'm a confirmed motorcycle nut - consumed, obsessed, and whatever other description fits a guy who dedicates at least 10 times more of his sparse grey matter to thinking about motorcycles than pondering "sushi vs pasta" dinner decisions, or how to save on my taxes. I've ridden just about everything over the last 36 years and have covered in excess of a half million miles on two wheels. I wake up thinking about motorcycles, think about motorcycles all day, and go to sleep thinking about motorcycles. Getting the picture?

I have owned (and still own) some genuinely exotic and interesting machinery - bikes with 1, 2, 3, 4, and 6 cylinders - even one with NO cylinders!
(a 1975 Suzuki RE-5 with a rotary engine - see left) I've owned air cooled, oil cooled, and water cooled bikes, two stroke and four stroke bikes. I have toured, commuted, road raced, and ridden cross-country; maintained, restored, and used motorcycles as living room art. Along the way, I've met the pavement a few times (no, it is NOT inevitable), at the hands of oily pavement, cattle, deer, other racers, and early in my riding career, lack of skill or training. Getting the picture?

I've always been a gearhead and had a fondness for rolling stock of many forms. My first motorcycle was a 1971 Norton 750 Commando in As-God-Intended black and gold.
The first time I saw one I was captivated and mesmerized - and not long after, knowing NOTHING about riding, I bought one. I rode it constantly and it took me all over the western US before I was wooed away by an exotic Italian machine that was the fastest bike in the world at that time. I still own a Norton Commando to this day - they are undeniably special.

As is often the case, each motorcycle was replaced with one that was bigger, better, faster, rarer, prettier, more exotic, more suitable for whatever moto-priority I had at the time. Along the way, bikes became more complex, heavier, more feature-laden, and inevitably - more expensive.

A few years ago, on the 100th anniversary of Harley-Davidson, I bought a Harley "Deuce" in the silver/black anniversary paint scheme. It was a bit of a whim at the time, and my motorcycling friends
thought I had genuinely lost my mind - my anti-Harley sentiments were well known. Though I had a faster, lighter, unquestionably more refined Japanese semi-sport bike at the time, and I really liked it, somehow it seemed that when I just wanted to go for a leisurely ride, or to the store, or run an errand, the Harley got the nod most of the time. After some thought, I decided that the Harley was just less work to ride, and I didn't feel like I had to set a new lap record every time I threw a leg over it. A job layoff in 2004 necessitated its departure, but I never forgot the sensation of that Harley's low-key riding experience.


The resurrected Triumph motorcycle company out of England reprised the twin cylinder air cooled Bonneville (which originally debuted in 1959) about ten years ago. I immediate liked it, but somehow wasn't motivated to actually buy one. Then, in 2009, Triumph released a different version called the "SE". After a test ride at a dealership, I decided that the riding experience was in some ways like the Harley - and if the right deal came along, I wanted one. Lo and behold, just recently the right deal DID come along, and now a Bonneville SE resides in my garage.


Instantly, I've fallen back in love with simple, lightweight motorcycles. Virtually every time I ride the Bonnie, I'm transported back to 1976 and my Norton Commando. So many of the sensations are spot on the same - all the good ones anyway, with none of the foibles inherent in old school British iron. Handlebars that don't require a fetal crouch ... a slim gas tank and narrow waist ... reasonable seat height ... exhaust sounds that sound RIGHT, even if they are a bit stifled with stock exhaust.

No windshield, no fairing. No luggage. No heated grips or seat. No radiator, no shaft drive. No computerized electronic gauges, no clock, no temperature gauge. No ABS, no traction control. No rising rate single shock rear suspension. No GPS, no stereo. I love it.

The exotic Italian sport bike and the Italian sport tourer still get ridden, but this thing's a winner. 'Scuse me, I gotta go ride ....