My friend Paul Ruby and I were on the road early with plans to ride west towards Clearfield to find a new place to for breakfast. I have begun to wonder how many riders make a ritual of riding to breakfast. Something like private pilots and the 200 dollar cheeseburger. A short stop at the Sunoco station on North Atherton Street where Paul could get gas for his motorcycle gave me a chance to admire the Triumph Bonneville. Again. In the light from the rising sun it just seemed to glimmer. Really. Well, I did do some interpretation in Photoshop but the bike does look good. I've dreamt about motorcycles that look like this. And so far it has lived up to my expectations.
The Bonneville is at home on the highway. Every bike or scooter I've ever ridden seems to have a riding sweet spot. A speed where the bike is completely relaxed, a mid-ground where you don't notice you're going slow and you don't notice you're going fast. For the Triumph it's between 50 and 60mph. (In my decidedly non-scientific estimation). Riding my Vespa GTS250ie I find it right around 45mph. Your results may vary.
I pulled over just as we approached the top of Bald Eagle Ridge on Interstate 99. I made Paul back his motorcycle up so I could admire the unobstructed view of the road and sky. This motorcycle loves this kind of road.
Another stop for a picture along US322 as it begins to rise into the Allegheny Plateau. With the clouds passing over the hills and valleys this area looks as much like parts of Virginia and North Carolina as it does Pennsylvania. My thoughts travel momentarily to imagined rides on the Blue Ridge Parkway.
The weather has been unusually cool this summer and the feeling of fall hits me even though it's July. When I left the house it was 59 degrees Fahrenheit and I was wearing my winter riding jacket with a liner. I love this kind of weather but it isn't fondly embraced by riders who like to travel unencumbered by too much clothing.
My riding style generally consists of slow, slower and stop. Stop for pictures. Stop to look around and just breathe in the world. It took me awhile to tame the Triumph's desire to go fast. While it does not have a huge engine it is entirely within it's power to go fast. It's deceptive and I had to keep a close eye on the speedometer to make sure the State Police would not want to take a closer look at the bike too.
If you want to see pictures on a ride you just have to go slow otherwise you will rush by all but the biggest landscape views. And by slow I mean 35mph. It's easier at 25mph and easier yet at 15mph. With a little practice and experimentation with the gearbox I was able to find a photo speed sweet spot. I don't ride that way all the time but some places call out for attention. So it's nice to know how to make myself and the bike comfortable.
Paul pulled into a gas station in Coalport for fuel and a chance to show off his back stretching regimen. No matter how many times I witness the ritual something just seems wrong. If you ever run into Mr. Ruby as him to tell you about the time he was stretching his back in McDonalds with a pack of Boy Scouts present. Then you'll understand.
Adding fuel to the Triumph is easy except for the trepidation of splashing gas on the mirror finish paint job. I was extremely careful but without knowing how much gas was in the tank or how much it would hold I went slow. At two gallons I stopped and replaced the shiny chrome gas cap without so much as a drop of gas to mar the finish. Have I said how pretty this black motorcycle is?
The search for food was not going well. Phillipsburg was a bust as was Oseeola Mills, Houtzdale, Madera and Irvona. By the time we stopped in Coalport my stomach was done riding. I was on autopilot to a known breakfast way station near Prince Gallitzin State Park in Flinton, Pennsylvania. Sir Barney's.
Sir Barney's has standard, reliable breakfast fare which is exactly what I needed. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, juice and toast. It's like my riding security blanket. The only meal of the day I can count on to make me whole and not put me to sleep. Maybe that's why I tend to ride in the morning.
Riding with a trusted riding partner like Paul has it's advantages over riding alone. You get to experience things twice. Once through your eyes and once through someone else's. While I was happy as a clam to have food he was concerned with the lack of interest the wait staff seemed to pay us. We got everything we needed but we didn't get characters. There was nothing memorable about the people working there, no fodder for stories or humorous anecdotes. As Paul commented, "They're 9 to 5ers.".
Ours were the only motorcycles in the parking lot. The Triumph and Harley looked good out there. And I was glad to be able to keep my eye on things. I'm still a bit apprehensive with Craig Kissell's generosity in loaning me motorcycles. I imagine a phone call..."I parked it right outside the diner. I was only there for 20 minutes. It's a family place. I can't imagine who took it...."
So I keep my eye on things. While I'm riding and when it's parked. Maybe that's why Kissell Motorsports trusts me with their motorcycle.
By the time I arrived at the home of my inlaws we had ridden 100 miles. The Triumph looked as good in their driveway as it did in mine. I think it would look good in anyone's driveway. It's just a cool, classic machine if your interests lean in that direction. As much as I would have liked to ride all day adult responsibilities beckon me home. Besides, there still was another 70 miles of riding ahead to help ease the pain...
I am completely comfortable with the Triumph Bonneville. The transition from scooter to motorcycle was effortless for me. Muscle memories of shifting motorcycles in the 1970s returned and I was at home astride this machine. I can't say enough good things about the Triumph so I'll just stop for now.
I have one more post on the Triumph reflecting on a short ride alone through the countryside. Look for that soon.