tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70929442895121786452024-02-07T09:03:18.526-05:00Sport Touring
A blog about Sport-touring, inspired by Reality Exponentially Beautiful Reality. Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-86547264140844271702020-10-25T02:00:00.033-04:002020-10-29T22:03:11.500-04:00Sport Touring: An exercise in Remembrance and Solitude*<div style="text-align: justify;">I often look up to the sky to admire a flock of flying creatures on their migration route to more suitable grounds, driven by their instincts. I must admit I am jealous, the ability to fly and
explore this sphere is mesmerizing, soon after that I must acknowledge that we
are different species and our vehicles of transport differ immensely.
Similarly, I often observe the obese iron hogs rumble by with their ape hangers
and loud tunes two-up rolling unapologetically on to their next watering hole. I
observe, ponder and move on for I realize that Sport touring is a matter of
choice and thus I often choose to be a solo rider (with a few exceptions). I may
be unable to articulate to a satisfactory degree as to why I ride, however, I am
certain as to why I choose to ride solo.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"> The time was circa 2012, when Master Chief
walked into my life, a dashing fawn creature with an epic personality. I was
overwhelmed by the kindness and genuine affection directed towards me. It had
been a long while since I had experienced such genuine intentions. I suposse as
humans one often questions intention, motives, reasons and doubt that anyone or anything can be really that unbelievably caring. And so for the next few months Chief made it a point to convert me into a believer and ultimately utterly
change my perspective and impacted my existence. Unfortunately, Chief departed my
life abruptly circa 2015. Ever since, I have been trying to find a way to
remember and honor an old friend whom taught me the fundamentals of being
human. It finally occurred to me that the best way to honor my old friend would
be to carry on his name with me everywhere I travel, just like that flock of
creatures we will travel together. It will be Master Chief and I exploring the world.
And that is how I decided to name my mechanical steed "Master Chief". I choose to ride alone,
but the memory of my Canine Friend will accompany me until we meet again. My name is Fredo and this is my reality, exponentially beautiful reality.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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</div> Master Chief (circa 2014)
</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>*I wrote this piece with a sad prescient feeling hovering over me. Less than a day after I hit publish on this blog post, I was notified that my other Boxer pup Samson, the dashing one on my profile picture will be departing this world soon. After 11 years on this sphere he is ready to cross over, until we meet again dear friend. Toot toot. </div>Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-58077492005907934512020-05-06T17:38:00.000-04:002020-05-06T17:43:48.998-04:00Sport Touring: We are all Astronauts...in a world of Euphemisms<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's a familiar routine in an unrecognizable realm. The decision was processed by the neurons long before the body executed the commands. It is Thursday 1100, time to surf. all systems are ready as the rider and mechanical steed begin the process of Synchronicity. I am in Southern California a known destination, I recognize the environment yet the life form is missing from its mega-metropolis arteries that fuel its energy source. These days the digital fish wraps of the world appeared to have embraced motorcycling as a sport, as there is constant chatter about climbing the curve, lowering the curve and flattening the curve, personally I prefer to lean into the curves. I'm surfing southbound on Las Virgenes road, when I stared this ride the temperature gauge registered a sizzling 91F/33C and now as I look again it reads 66F/19C. As I crested the Santa Monica Mountains, the cool breeze of the Pacific ocean clashes against my motorbike and face shield, the ocean smells are intoxicating and the fog transports me to another microcosm. One where fluidity amongst machine, human and environment can be achieved. A glorious yet perplexing experience. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I quickly settled into a rhythm as I pull in the clutch, close the throttle, up shift and simultaneously release the clutch and roll the throttle. I know where I am, I know what I am doing and yet something seems off. The seashore is deserted and there are multiple signs unwelcoming my visit, urging me to keep moving. This status is far from the home state I remember, far from where most individuals would like to exist. As I surf southbound on Pacific Coast Highway I ponder the effects of such aberration. I realize, I am halfway over my orbital sequence, but what will this mean for my successor and those whom must navigate this sphere beyond today?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is an incessant monologue and directives that dictate that I should be and stay home, the constant noise that blurs and inhibits common sense, rationality in favor of the fallacy of safety under the guise of alone but together. I have been told what is essential and what a hero is and looks like. And yet I must politely and intently disagree, for I believe that liberty is essential and if you disagree then please sit, roll over, stay home and witness your life be attenuated. The aforementioned approach is congruent with a herd mentality and I prefer to surf alone and be my own hero. I have looked up to the sky and seen the lights, something exists beyond the known. Fourteen months ago I trekked southwest, a mandatory lay over to reconnect and ascertain a point of origin. I now exultantly await my return to orbit, where I shall rejoin my successor. We are all astronauts on our way home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I once asked, if you were granted one wish and received exactly what you asked for, would you know what to do with it? I do and I will. My name is Fredo, I am a Tarmac Surfer, it is what I do best and this is my reality exponentially beautiful reality. </span><br />
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The Tarmac Surfing craft of choice to transport me through space.</div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-9665261360245458432019-09-23T02:13:00.000-04:002019-09-27T18:49:28.767-04:00Sport Touring: The Congruence of Origin and Destination<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's 0718, the solar rays invade my space and awaken me as a reminder that a new rotational cycle has begun. I reluctantly acknowledged and subconsciously begin preparations. The physical movements are ingrained and automatic, effortless indeed. I know what I wish to do today yet the fine details evade me. I slowly make my way down the staircase to the garage inspect my steed and make peace with the world, a necessary psychological contract with destiny. Before embarking on an adventure both rider and steed must refuel and thus a mandatory petrol stop is on the agenda, along with a stop at the de facto home of Tournament of Roses Parade. There is an alluring mystique to Surfing early morning when the sun rays are just cresting the Angeles Crest National Forest Range, unapologetically radiating and replenishing the spirit. </div>
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I have imagined this range in my dreams and doubtful moments, now here it welcomes me with a subtle morning breeze, low humidity and exquisite ambient temperature. The message registers, and the neurons begin to fire up and activate, a delightful experience indeed. As I sit on a sidewalk table at a Café on Colorado Boulevard, the incongruence of the moment confounds me, and thus questions arise. I sit and observe the Red, White and Blue unfurl, the visitors, the outdoor residents and time slowly drift away. Time calls my name and I answered and followed, destination due west north. There is a gem of super slab that traverses east-to-west at the foothills of the Angeles Range onward, today I will Surf it and beyond.</div>
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The physical destination is near yet the realm I seek is vast and afar, before entering such realm I must Surf the congested arteries of a mega-metropolis that defies logic and common sense, while speeding through time and space at 70mph. I'm in. The guidance and need of a cell phone or gps is forsaken for the full experience of the present and the probability of the unknown. The road signs guide and confirm my arrival, the road narrows to a two lane road, the elevation is slight yet discernable. The buildings are replaced by dry plant matter on slopes battered by constant heat dangerously awaiting one spark to reaffirm its presence and reclaim its territory from invading human species. </div>
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The Waltz begins, rider/steed and road. The road leads this dance unabashedly, challenge its dominance and you will be ejected on a stretcher. The Rhythm calls for variable speeds and graceful right and left turn lean angles, this road rewards diligence. From the de facto home of the Tournament of Roses Parade to Bouquet Canyon in search of the ever evasive moto-bliss. I once asked, if you were granted exactly what you wish for, would you know what to do? I do, I know where I am and where I need to be. My name is Fredo, I am a Tarmac Surfer and this is my reality, exponentially beautiful Reality.</div>
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A respite from the Unknown</div>
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When all else fails simplify, one is greater than zero</div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-8109847565640311572019-09-22T23:57:00.000-04:002019-09-27T17:59:52.456-04:00Sport Touring; Time and Distance at the Intersection of Home and the Unknown <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It is Friday morning, I have a goal in mind and I will achieve it, so as long as it all follows the desire sequence. However, let's digress for now and follow me on a short tour. I once said (circa 2011) something to the effect that: should I happen to find a befitting steed of Bavarian origins I may just procure one. Time it seems will conspire in favor or otherwise, and yet the the systematic path to reach the objective will remain in focus and today it seems it is that day. I have been thinking and plotting this trip for a few days now, it is rather a simple far from extraordinary affair. On a Sunday morning I set out North due Northwest toward Solvang, CA., a holdover place that mimics a Danish town in a setting that is rather Moto inviting. The weather it seems will take the Moto enthusiast and add the mandatory confounding variables as a sort of icing on the adventure. The weather calls for a cloudy overcast sky with a low probability of precipitation. And that low probability of rain varies depending on how high one climbs. The ride starts as most, full of trepidation. </div>
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The first 100 miles/160km are uneventful illuminated by bright solar rays, it all seems well and predictable until a bright orange sign near Santa Barbara CA, indicates and suggests caution over the hill as fog and rain disguise what are normally green hills, now covered in a thick shroud of dangerous road conditions. The visibility is limited the inattentive cage drivers plentiful. There are immediate decisions to be executed. Shall one pull over and remain in place awaiting more favorable conditions and try to mitigate what could lead to finality? I have made my peace with the world before mounting my steed, thus I will forge ahead. There are limited tasks at hand, those being roll the throttle, and enjoy the Ride. After a few miles of intense, shifting and braking the sky rewards the rider with an intrinsic terrain. The scene is full of rolling hills, majestic greenery and smooth tarmac, I have been awaiting these circumstances for some time now. And now as I ride at 55mph/km, lean left and right completely immersed in my environment, I smile. </div>
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Now back to that Friday morning, that encapsulates 18 years of patiently awaiting the arrival, the arrival of the mechanical steed from Bavaria. There is an old marketing slogan that states that good things come to those who wait, I fully disagree and instead I would argue to start pursuing, stop waiting and start existing in the present while being prepared to absorb the toll of achievement, for nothing is free of cost. As Pablo Picasso once said, "Every act of creation is first an act of destruction". I have arrived home to California on a Bavarian steed, thus created a new path. My name is Fredo, I am a Tarmac Surfer and this is my Reality, Exponentially Beautiful Reality.<br />
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-71217541604389577772019-01-29T15:34:00.000-05:002019-09-26T19:41:55.956-04:00Sport Touring: A Fly-and-Ride exercise in precise execution<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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There are times when pondering only hinders progress. I pondered an idea for 17 months and it hindered my progress. Until on November 18, 2018 at 0845 I finally executed my idea to ship Ibex to California. I have always romanticized this idea that I would ride all the way to CA, it has yet to materialize and time is passing me by. I also had dreamed of riding my Moto in my hometown, and so this past December that is exactly what I did. All it took were a few phone calls, a few swipes of a credit card and hitching a ride from my Delta Air associates. Done. And so on a sunny December Wednesday morning, with a cool 65F registering on the thermometer I rode out to the Pacific Ocean Coastline to indulge in the mystifying sights and smells. The feeling of being home enhances the brain's circuitry and chemistry, indeed a much needed relief. There is an old adage that suggests that if in life one gets lemons, one should make lemonade, I fully disagree, instead I suggest ride your Moto until your instinct tells you to stop. </div>
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A new year has arrived and with it also significant uncertainty and challenges, I can only ascertain that touring should continue to be part of my existence. And just like when I toured in the past a storm seems to be brewing, and it will require the same exact level of precision as touring to navigate. I am currently Moto less per say (in Ohio) and that is something that will be sorted soon in the spring, but I am full of joy and satisfaction by having completed a simple wish irrelevant of cost. I am fully cognizant that time as we know it is infinite, yet the lifecycle of a human as we know it is finite. I am happy to say that in spite of this knowledge I will gladly double down on my existence for one more Ride. My name is Fredo I am a Tarmacsurfer, and this is my reality, exponentially beautiful reality.<br />
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Ibex's last day in Ohio</div>
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The destination</div>
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An appropriately name brew during my visit</div>
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Off the bike activities</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWclierOtr-OBVmMX7OUxRzd4fh5dvIOnmxWUQi-flG_pMOUWg570f5rz4dATZ4mLMErKo34hDNoZUaFjlot3zaz2iTY6SdCTIoxCWEsD32klEjtp-3snEMBFUyHlS74Pp6qUQ-MLdVlY/s1600/IMG_20181227_173046349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="607" data-original-width="809" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWclierOtr-OBVmMX7OUxRzd4fh5dvIOnmxWUQi-flG_pMOUWg570f5rz4dATZ4mLMErKo34hDNoZUaFjlot3zaz2iTY6SdCTIoxCWEsD32klEjtp-3snEMBFUyHlS74Pp6qUQ-MLdVlY/s400/IMG_20181227_173046349.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Self refueling </div>
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A mandatory yet temporary departure from Home</div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-42151891840884618532018-06-26T21:44:00.001-04:002020-09-09T19:18:10.693-04:00Sport Touring: A Rendezvous of renewal and unforeseen Pure perfection<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Total Distance: 633 miles/ 1018 km</span><br />
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Temperature range: 65F-81F Cloudy/Sunny, 18C/27C<br />
Best mpg: 62 mpg</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Vstrom 650 and Ibex ready to Surf</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Day one</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dublin, Ohio to Paw Paw Michigan</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The anticipation has begun, it </span>overtakes<span style="font-family: inherit;"> your senses and awakens you. One </span>anticipates<span style="font-family: inherit;"> the road, the sights, the smells, the opportunity to </span>launch oneself into the unknown. On a Friday afternoon my friends SoParider and SoPaguider (SPR & SPG) rolled into Columbus from the East, whom I had not seen in a while. A week prior I opened their phenomenal digital invitation to accompany them for part of their cross-country tour. Instinctively, there is only one response that will resonate, I'm in. Quotidian obligations must be deferred, the fish, laundry, emails, phone calls, it all can wait and preparations must begin. It has been sometime since I have gone on a proper tour and never before have I toured with friends, a welcome deviation.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKglI3168pH2_V6eAqxD2oxQtN4K6NKlHx32fOLbNQwEYxDsODlRyWehhwK4gSNnfXgdeoYbOQq6y7BPfhPLbX5McFEt-7zii7Jt6PekXlRhMTz4rSTBiAoxEeN3AFOSLSmPnSN7PWinv4/s1600/IMG_20180622_214958140_LL.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="616" data-original-width="822" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKglI3168pH2_V6eAqxD2oxQtN4K6NKlHx32fOLbNQwEYxDsODlRyWehhwK4gSNnfXgdeoYbOQq6y7BPfhPLbX5McFEt-7zii7Jt6PekXlRhMTz4rSTBiAoxEeN3AFOSLSmPnSN7PWinv4/s400/IMG_20180622_214958140_LL.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trip preparations begin long before these physical manisfestations</td></tr>
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Has a friend ever told you, hey if I am ever in town I will look you up and never does. That's not my friends. On a Saturday morning at around 0825 two motor bikes, three riders depart Dublin, Ohio, destination; Paw Paw, Michigan. SoParider is a master route planner and has meticulously drafted a route void of super slabs and irrelevant distractions such as big rigs, golf courses and mega malls. Instead we will be surfing the best unknown roads a State has to offer. Direct routes are for individuals keen on missing the idiosyncrasies that are the essence of an adventure. Indirect routes are for individuals whom welcome rural Main Streets with 25 mph speed limits, mermaid festival parades, grain silos, dilapidated barns, jovial bovines an a 1842 edifice that now serves as the local book repository. </div>
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The weather forecast has toyed with our emotions all week long, predicting rain with variable degrees of intensity, ready or not kickstand are up and we are rolling along. The skies are unreliable, overcast with Nimbus clouds in the distance ready to intercept our path. SPR & SPG lead the way as I follow three seconds back, the actual route is unknown to me and that is irrelevant at this point, the task at hand is simple: Ride uninhibitedly. The ever evasive Moto bliss awaits if only one is receptive enough to notice. The pace is relaxed yet extended, SPR & SPG are proficient Surfers and have earned their bonafide touring credentials, where as I aspire to renew mine. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No one ever said the crossroads of America are always beautiful </td></tr>
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We managed to reach the halfway point dry, until the clouds once again toy with us and release just enough water to awaken us and quickly dissipate. In a world fully connected (unnecessarily) and excessive moto-horsepower, SPR & SPG and I are riding modest steeds, unplugged. This is old school navigating, you are never lost rather exploring, one takes unplanned turns that lead to more adventures. All communication is visual, two steeds, three riders surfing in unison, Beautiful indeed. This was my first visit to Michigan (the farthest I have surfed West) and Michigan delivered with its smooth undulating roads. It is now late afternoon we have been surfing for nearly eight hours, my new two-piece suit (review forthcoming) is performing flawlessly, Ibex is surfing at a constant rate of speed, Rider and machine are now sync. Except my body is protesting, my throttle hand is numb, my lower back is failing to support me, my <span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">derrière wants to lift off like a rocket and Ibex seems to have inexplicably gained weight and is becoming unwieldy. We finally reached our destination safely and serene.</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Day 2</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Paw Paw </span>Michigan<span style="font-family: inherit;"> to Columbus, Ohio</span></span></div>
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From my few decades of existence on this blue Sphere I have now learned that I prefer see you soon as my parting greeting as opposed to good bye, thus parting greetings were exchanged as we headed in opposite directions. <span style="text-align: justify;">SPR & SPG are heading to the West Coast and I must return East. This is a more familiar circumstance, one rider one steed, minor trepidation full anticipation of a solo Ride. There is only one way to overcome it, double down on your existence, make peace with the world mount your steed and Ride. I have the luxury of zero commitments, zero responsibilities for the day, so I plan a route that will take me through some back roads and catapult me on to a super slab disguised as OH state road 33. The weather is exquisite, like a freshly out-of-the oven orange brioche, the wind is consistent, the sun radiates and energizes, the road is demanding yet smooth and Ibex's parallel twin engine throttle response is intoxicating. I know that today I will Surf, and the time is now. I roll the throttle and proceed to indulge. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ritual: pack-ride-unpack repeat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVV9MK4S3vW2RsB5s9J0bCBvO1nXbPWOy4Esw3PNOX8VO4qp21a4Sk1C66izY2nmEQXrzJBxoV5-ufIRQUXSRiUf9KfG5oFtHw9ik4f1wP2ar4h0JJFFAfxK6Y2nx63fNr-Gjha6yS5zX/s1600/IMG_20180626_175814579.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="616" data-original-width="462" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVV9MK4S3vW2RsB5s9J0bCBvO1nXbPWOy4Esw3PNOX8VO4qp21a4Sk1C66izY2nmEQXrzJBxoV5-ufIRQUXSRiUf9KfG5oFtHw9ik4f1wP2ar4h0JJFFAfxK6Y2nx63fNr-Gjha6yS5zX/s400/IMG_20180626_175814579.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Navigating Unplugged</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3RW71kYyFJ4RFIWBctc5ldp57nwyQyjLXLJzD1i6lvBLhr_BFR4cmJ5cYXaK1MiLPMKgdvY5hcbNEVgxBPfYLlPnsKsRMcniZfoxsBeKu_ivsLoCNvNehqZkxMcgh9E9ePDgdT3Pemly/s1600/IMG_2062.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="424" data-original-width="640" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3RW71kYyFJ4RFIWBctc5ldp57nwyQyjLXLJzD1i6lvBLhr_BFR4cmJ5cYXaK1MiLPMKgdvY5hcbNEVgxBPfYLlPnsKsRMcniZfoxsBeKu_ivsLoCNvNehqZkxMcgh9E9ePDgdT3Pemly/s400/IMG_2062.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the Cockpit</td></tr>
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I have now covered in excess of 500 miles, the dash registers 76 mph, 5k rpm, my mind decelerates as I glide pass a mammoth lorry and the digitally connected yet absent minded cage operator verifying his irrelevant status in my realm. I surf to renew this state, the moment where irrelevant complexities are simply that, irrelevant. If only for this fleeting instance, I will indulge, indulge in <span style="text-align: left;">Moto-bliss. As I surf I recalled this quote: The Secret of Change Is to Focus All of Your Energy, Not on Fighting the Old, But on Building the New (fictional character: Way of a peaceful Warrior). Thus all of my energy is focused on this micro-occurrence as the catalyst for momentum forward. In this moment, all that matters are the electrical impulses being transfer to a machine that propels me forward as a metaphor for my existence. In this realm time perception is suspended, and it is here that I find what I seek. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-P5gy5ub9wWNGffgKcEYm4PCLgKvFbsY_Xngo_MjdZKQ79FWIdqkfHr95460k_TBDOKqtpyHDrqd6t1oBDWjRbP1F9draEWkUoQ4j-qvV6ru0XXih2pZxtBGjgrYI4hfESdNgExbidd3/s1600/IMG_2064.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="424" data-original-width="640" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-P5gy5ub9wWNGffgKcEYm4PCLgKvFbsY_Xngo_MjdZKQ79FWIdqkfHr95460k_TBDOKqtpyHDrqd6t1oBDWjRbP1F9draEWkUoQ4j-qvV6ru0XXih2pZxtBGjgrYI4hfESdNgExbidd3/s400/IMG_2064.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seek and you will find these places that will imprint lasting memories</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Jf5BT23PiNnO4YyVXZLWhBL8Ut0pZBzZ6RD-UUIfrl69FyxGn04AtrGhpkDQH3IJWLoeYRhzj-_cykurHH8ueN71M3zXpkARWLVMwuOgB_TjwZexnB6rb-5mCIoHUVkzn1DDg_qryxFR/s1600/IMG_20180624_185308044.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="616" data-original-width="462" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Jf5BT23PiNnO4YyVXZLWhBL8Ut0pZBzZ6RD-UUIfrl69FyxGn04AtrGhpkDQH3IJWLoeYRhzj-_cykurHH8ueN71M3zXpkARWLVMwuOgB_TjwZexnB6rb-5mCIoHUVkzn1DDg_qryxFR/s400/IMG_20180624_185308044.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post Ride debrief activities</td></tr>
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And you may asked what does Pure perfection look like? I'm unable to answer that, I can only narrate what it feels like, Intuitively Effortless. If you were to be granted a wish with exactly what you asked for, would you know what to do with this Gift? My name is Fredo, I'm a TarmacSurfer and this is my reality, exponentially beautiful reality. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to Tarmac Surf, intuitively Effortless.</td></tr>
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SPR & SPG, with friends like you I gladly welcome the future. Safe travels. </div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-41792353383071480492018-05-06T00:04:00.000-04:002019-09-27T17:59:25.401-04:00Sport Touring: The Buckeye State Reloaded<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: justify;">I have been now living in Ohio for twenty-nine months, and I am now just starting to find a rhythm. You may say about time, and I agree. There have been many changes, in the last few months, yet most importantly what remains intact is the passion for the sport, Sport Touring. Thus, I am looking forward to a new year, new Moto season and a new found soloist lifestyle. Let's Ride.</span></div>
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I started this season by attending the American Motorcyclist Association (AMA) Motorcycle Hall of Fame Bike Nite. If you have never been to it, I highly recommend it. It is a chance to see a diverse number of old, new, interesting machinery and their jockeys. It is probably one of the few times that I am amongst the tribe, as you already know I usually ride on my own. We all must go home sometime and this sometimes feels as a temporary homecoming. </div>
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The day was cloudy and cool with noticeable wind disturbance, not a bad day to enjoy the tarmac. It was the first time taking Ibex out for the season. A time to awaken muscle memory and rewire neurons. After almost five months without riding Ibex feels like riding a cow, awkward and far from intuitive. It will be a few more hundred miles before one reaches that stage where it all feels effortless. Where riding becomes as easy as walking, when the mind and engine sync and one can ride unobstructed by frivolous thoughts. I'm a Tarmac Surfer and this is my reality, exponentially beautiful reality. </div>
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An impressive Moto with Bonafide touring credentials</div>
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A Vintage Ducati</div>
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An oversize Trooper Hog</div>
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A unique steed for those with eccentric tendencies</div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-75630567724956678622016-10-30T00:44:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:56.032-04:00Sport Touring: Welcome to the Buckeye State...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: justify;">It's Saturday morning and I have been anticipating this day for a while. The air is cool, and Fall is comfortably settling in, with an ambient temperature of 49F and a slightly disturbing wind. The Moto is ready, I am ready and thus it is time to surf. I have been in Ohio now for nearly 11 long months, and I have been less then enthuse to explore, it lacks a beach and mountains. However, there is still plenty of tarmac and a few rolling hills with exquisite back roads. I set out this morning to find a few of these hidden gems.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">In order to reach my destination I must surf the super slab and a high speed state road south east of Columbus, and share space with cage operators more concern with checking their status rather than ensure safety for all. That is the world we must experience. After over an hour of high speed surfing I finally reached my destination state road (SR) 691. I am the only moto on this road, excellent! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">My bovine suit is keeping me warm, my tactile senses are on hyper mode and I can easily operate my Moto controls, the tachometer sways right and left as I adjust the speed in order to meet road conditions successfully. The parallel twin's 650cc hum beautifully and begs to be unleashed. The falling leaves come out to greet me and fly pass me at leisure speed, the road is decorated with deceased raccoons, foxes, and skunks aromas that ensure I remain alert to road conditions. This is what I have been missing, a band aid fix to a bigger conundrum. It shall suffice for today. I must exist in the present and in the present time I am surfing, smooth two lane tarmac.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">The roads in the area offer a beautiful yet simplistic experience to the moto-surfer punctuated by the questionable banners on front lawns. I am here to experience and meditate as I surf at variable rates of speed. And realize that I must return to my origins as I would be unwelcome here. I stopped to refuel in Nelsonville Ohio, as an old red 1993 Dodge Ram 150 drives by rusted and bellowing, a relic of times past. I reached SR 56 and arrived in Athens, Ohio, what appears to be a 1970's era hold out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">I ride through town and the Ohio University Campus, it seems like a nice place but time is short and I must now surf north bound. I easily locate SR 33 north and rolled the throttle, Ibex abides and settled in at a rapid 70mph pace. The wind speed has increased and I must lean into the wind to avoid being swept off the tarmac. The sky is blue and sunny, the leaves are vibrant and my mind is clear. This is the ever evasive motor bliss. I know that am almost home. This is my reality, exponentially beautiful reality.</span> </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ready to Surf with Ibex</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A good way to end or start a ride, orange brioche and iced tea</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A beautiful relic</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A tarmac surfer's welcome sign</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A view from the cockpit</span></td></tr>
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Beauty is subjective...Nature is Beautiful</div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-48408362370606593642016-06-10T23:46:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.685-04:00Sport Touring: Test riding the Indian Scout Sixty<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="text-align: justify;">On a cloudy stormy day I headed out on the tarmac to meet the Indian Scout Sixty for a test ride. I had been looking forward to test riding this moto for sometime now, and a little rain was not going to deter me from accomplishing my goal of the day. I know what you may be thinking, aren't you a sport tourer? a sport bike type? Well, No. I am a motorcyclist and by an unofficial definition one who admires motos.</span><br />
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And that is how I decided that I must test ride the Scout. First, I will start by saying that I was impressed by this moto. It's craftsmanship and image is astonishing. Beautiful sparkling white paint, adorned by wide fat tires and black-out engine and wheels, complimented by a relaxed geometry that beckons the open road.</div>
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As a former Sportster owner I can attest that this moto blows the Sporty off its Iron pedestal! The look, the power (78 hp), the torque down low, the smooth engine, the liquid cooled factor, it all overwhelmed the aforementioned all American from Milwaukee . After about 20 miles of tooling around on this bike I can only find four flaws and those are: the clutch requires a strong pull that is less than ideal for city commuting, what happened to ABS and where is the fuel gauge?? Really? If I am going cross-country on this beast I'd like to know how much fuel is in the tank. And lastly, accessories for this moto will leave a serious dent on your wallet. Minor details, not a deal breaker since once you look at this moto in person all you want to do is ride it!</div>
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This is an excellent specimen of cruiser style moto, simplistic, stylish and functional. One that would make a superb addition to anyone's stable.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3vpmxxeengmjcHqQATohTCqHL4A42XqlZzHQn7FeX72OtwqOP5Q2I7pCe9wRYhFvzkQjoEtxv7WKbOrwSS8BtuTI_PxIpS9N5P790yeAGgwwwC_uEGAO7YzvOvnB8s6XeHXCcDkScUsd/s1600/Scout+sixty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3vpmxxeengmjcHqQATohTCqHL4A42XqlZzHQn7FeX72OtwqOP5Q2I7pCe9wRYhFvzkQjoEtxv7WKbOrwSS8BtuTI_PxIpS9N5P790yeAGgwwwC_uEGAO7YzvOvnB8s6XeHXCcDkScUsd/s400/Scout+sixty.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source: www.indianmotorcycle.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-79113628119512073572016-01-09T00:40:00.000-05:002019-09-26T19:41:56.088-04:00Sport Touring: The Tarmac Surfer heads West....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The time finally arrived, sixty-six months after taking an unplanned turn and arriving in the D.C area it is time to leave it all behind. It is time to find new destinations and new tarmac to surf in Ohio and beyond. Yes, I said Ohio. My exit from the <i>Matrix</i> was rather anti-climatic since I was unable to surf my way out of there and instead I had to ship Ibex via trailer in order to avoid the deluge that was battering the area. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Furthermore, the arrival of full fledge winter weather means that all surfing operations are now grounded and in hibernation mode. This season was my least road active season to date, once again time and obligations conspired against me and my moto ambitions. Does this mean I am bitter about it as a double IPA? Far from it, I am rather at ease. Tarmac Surfing is about qualitative experiences.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In an ideal world one would be able to ride for thousands of miles consecutively. I am far from idealist and know that perfection is attainable yet unsustainable. It's all in perspective. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This season I rode a measly 1709 miles/2750 km. And yet I enjoyed almost every single mile. Every time I ride is a new opportunity to find <i>moto bliss</i>, whether the ride is one mile or one thousand miles. It is interesting how most times I shared my moto lifestyle choice with some individuals, they feel compelled to either share unpleasant stories or make statements to dissuade me from my moto. </span><span style="font-size: medium;">Seldom has anyone asked why do I surf, or how does surfing make me feel? I doubt many questioned B.B. King as to why he played and loved the Blues, given that some may find them as less then uplifting. Some things are better left unexplained.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Twenty-sixteen has arrived and I shall continue to Tarmac Surf West until I am home again. This is my reality, exponentially beautiful reality.</span> </span></div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-1273904029314264372015-10-13T14:55:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.263-04:00Sport touring: Sena Prism action camera review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was bound to happen, sooner or later I'd succumb to curiosity and acquire an action camera. While I never intend on becoming a Vlogger since I prefer written words and am far from a video editing whiz as a tool it does serve a purpose. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There have been a few occasions while I've been out riding when I thought I wish I could record the outing, whether it was a winding back road, descending a mountain road or the occassional unfriendly actions of auto operators while commuting. There are many options in terms of small compact action cameras with GoPro being the most popular. The Prism is one of the latest offerings from Sena a moto specific accessories manufacturer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My main criteria in looking for a camera were: it should have decent video quality, affordability, ease of use and mounting to my helmet. The prism meets of all these and as an added bonus it is incredibly compatible with iMovie. I ordered the Prism Lite pack, it includes a camera, two surface mounts and a helmet clamp mount, perfect. So far it has performed well. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Unlike the old adage a picture is worth a thousand words, how about a video saves a thousand words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The following is a short clip while product testing in real world conditions. Feel free to add your own soundtrack.</span></div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/nKRSLK2uBcQ/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nKRSLK2uBcQ?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-62233917767555341422015-10-08T14:17:00.000-04:002019-09-27T17:59:44.324-04:00Sport Touring: Gear testing on a cloudy day…<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">On a cloudy damp Thursday I
decided that it was time to deviate from my quotidian affairs and indulge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of diligently heading over to my desk
jockey location I decided that an early breakfast at my local mart was in order
accompanied by my best pal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Furthermore,
I decided that today was a good day to perform gear testing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial";">If anyone asked you what is
something you need in abundance in your life what would you say?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today time is something I would like in
abundance, time to surf, time to…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when
all else fails one must create it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
recently acquired a few exquisite pieces of gear that had yet to be tested and
what more appropriate time to do this then while a tropical storm batters the
East Coast, indeed. </span><span style="font-family: "arial";">I have previously mention that
Sport Touring requires some level of training and one variable one must train
for is riding in the rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time I
have gone on a tour it has rained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
650 (aka Ibex) is ready to roll, and I am ready to test my new Alpinestars Gore-Tex
gloves, Sena’s prism action camera, and Kriega’s US 30 dry bag (reviews
forthcoming), along with my moto skills.</span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The air is chilled, humidity
levels have dropped to ideal levels, and Ibex is warm up and ready to
roll.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I close my eyes take one, two,
three deep breaths make peace with the world pull the clutch drop to first,
roll the throttle and am on my way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whereas before I lived inside the Matrix, my current residence lies
outside of it and today I must venture inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As soon as I rolled onto the interstate the road spray and vertical
precipitation reduces my visibility to less than 100 meters/328 yards, yet
cages maintain or exceed posted speed limits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The rain continues and so do I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My field of vision is limited as the rain persists, yet it fails to damper
my outlook. Today I will surf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My gear
is performing flawlessly, Ibex is steady, I am dry and my heart rate is calm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surf on even if I am the only moto on the
road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An hour later and having covered
22 miles I arrived at my destination drenched on the outside yet serene on the inside.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Some may ask, wouldn’t be [insert
own thought] if you just drove or…? I am unable to answer this question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I simply choose to believe that despite what
the hyperactive media reports in the U.S., One exists in a jovial world,
therefore, I must Surf it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a world
full of complexities, I am a Tarmac Surfer and this is my reality,
exponentially beautiful reality.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP6OMKyKqCgJk2lnFwzZdZarC6kcgpAM_l_T1islPysZfizmNmQzRKh46oANBomZIXyCYjuZF-o93LQ2VwJl0G80hzoEYWR2oLd8IJBPhcGCuuwJe9KetNRon6zQshn09LJhV_yRYCtQw/s1600/IMG_20150624_194934164-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP6OMKyKqCgJk2lnFwzZdZarC6kcgpAM_l_T1islPysZfizmNmQzRKh46oANBomZIXyCYjuZF-o93LQ2VwJl0G80hzoEYWR2oLd8IJBPhcGCuuwJe9KetNRon6zQshn09LJhV_yRYCtQw/s400/IMG_20150624_194934164-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Ibex </div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-453228234428292562015-09-10T10:45:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.646-04:00Sport Touring: Return of the Tarmac Surfer… indeed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">There are few things one can know with absolute certainty, however, I can
say with certainty that I am a Tarmac-Surfer and that I am California dreaming.
It has been over a yearly cycle since the last adventure, I know.
Life and confounding variables have conspired against me (e.g.
training my successor) until now, when I am finally able to make such pompous
claim. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">After over thirteen months of being absent from the Tarmac I have
rediscovered the inspiration to once again double down on my existence and Surf
again. My steed this time around will be an EX650 Kawasaki Ninja ABS ’15, aka
Ibex. My Moto ambitions remain yet time and life constraints dictate that
I must choose between x and y. I supposed many decisions in life are
rather automatic, yet my Moto selection dragged on. The options are
bountiful and are parallel to dating, every flavor to satisfy one’s hedonistic
inclinations</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">One day I decided to follow a red light district approach to my search
and indulged my aspirations until I found myself lusting after Ducati’s Monster,
Triumph’s Tiger XRx, Yamaha’s FZ 07, and BMW’s 650GS, F700GS, F800R and
Kawasaki’s Versys ’15. And yet none of these fulfilled the desire nor fully
impressed my mind enough to double-down. After a short period of frustration
and nebulosity the unexpected happened, my subconscious guided me to a steed I
thought had all the incorrect attributes, it turned out it was I whom had the
incorrect perspective!</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">The 650 offered what I had been unable to find up to then, it simply met
my criteria. After waving Au revoir! to my CBR250R ’11 I decided I
needed at least 50 hp, ABS and should be able to fit hard cases to my next moto.
The 650 fulfilled these criteria and furthermore, it fits me splendidly!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In typical Surfer fashion and without apprehensions
I trekked to West Virginia to pick up my steed and ride it home, a beautiful
feeling indeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last couple of
months have been rather frustrating as I must follow engine break-in procedures
for the first 1000 miles and keep the rpms under 6k. However, my mind has
been running at 15k rpm with plenty of Moto-touring ambitions in the planning
stages.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: large;">My resilient DNA dictates that I must venture far and wide and my
mind shall abide. How far and wide it is unknown at this time except that
the wide, smooth open tarmac is calling and I intent on answering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am once again a Tarmac Surfer and this is
my reality, exponentially beautiful reality.</span> </span></div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-14005761979817571602014-07-05T14:59:00.000-04:002019-09-27T17:59:12.068-04:00Sport Touring: In search of a new ride... Yamaha FZ 07 demo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you are in the market for a new moto you will encounter the following conundrum: How do you purchase a new shiny moto if the dealer refuses to let one test ride? It has been a few months since my 250 and I parted ways and longer still since I went on a bonafide moto ride. This must be rectified soon. The other day while reading the latest moto rag I ran across Yamaha's latest offering the naked FZ 07, considering my fruitless search thus far, I thought maybe I should give this a closer look. But first meet the contenders: </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFX1XlXloHu8ll-gnWGtaaudgGD7xb-0NmZIbCd7CzZBIbBWwpDOOPw4cu2mhHtsVjixhmF9sWt-yEJb2Xm9ZNjxZLUReFR_gJoRq-bBI7Kj0MqijgngpAH_wSO3sOTK6UT-d4U5TwGl7e/s1600/CBR500R+Honda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFX1XlXloHu8ll-gnWGtaaudgGD7xb-0NmZIbCd7CzZBIbBWwpDOOPw4cu2mhHtsVjixhmF9sWt-yEJb2Xm9ZNjxZLUReFR_gJoRq-bBI7Kj0MqijgngpAH_wSO3sOTK6UT-d4U5TwGl7e/s1600/CBR500R+Honda.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">www.honda.com</span></div>
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Honda's CBR500R offered the I've been there feeling <span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span>with manageable horsepower and classic styling, except dealers won't let go of these at an agreeable amount and the used market is overpriced as well (test rides mostly unavailable).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0oc7q_a8ZFt-gpXn623qGo_neB6hLRjvCzeAFebbMBJ4kQAlGJDNnH7FoJAIXLPbX2PnbLTusGKtfMXbkOKhLLjz8RuD7UF77ouaZzRfSq7mjRUGY-dne_y1ClOGH8tnSuwvQveWY_IfV/s1600/Ducati+795.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0oc7q_a8ZFt-gpXn623qGo_neB6hLRjvCzeAFebbMBJ4kQAlGJDNnH7FoJAIXLPbX2PnbLTusGKtfMXbkOKhLLjz8RuD7UF77ouaZzRfSq7mjRUGY-dne_y1ClOGH8tnSuwvQveWY_IfV/s1600/Ducati+795.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">www.ducati.com</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Ducati's Monster 795 offers beauty and performance at an exorbitant maintenance cost (test rides available).</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCy47W77HRf1Hhi4g1c09ZmbMXrAlOpqQg61fojogjzF4j6S1iG9hz1sa38h4sXkTfDs6k6-C_hToSbKKa6qvaR9LZZ5HfcvPGT9Zfml1p6oSuQoHciaBJMUkHgRo3eyCf_Aj-wQhOadhx/s1600/F800GT+autoevolution.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCy47W77HRf1Hhi4g1c09ZmbMXrAlOpqQg61fojogjzF4j6S1iG9hz1sa38h4sXkTfDs6k6-C_hToSbKKa6qvaR9LZZ5HfcvPGT9Zfml1p6oSuQoHciaBJMUkHgRo3eyCf_Aj-wQhOadhx/s1600/F800GT+autoevolution.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">www.autorevolution.com</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">BMW's F800GT is fast and stylish, a classic sport tourer with a classic insane admission price (test rides most definitely available). </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48t5GqFqb0HPjjO-7q__MMnRhVXZwTgUjZ2z5FR6Plj8AFnuY4S0bp10pfw8OpOEh1zAKi3spaEoJkjCrJLRwIkdvh_Dhs4JJISkhXljnrjMKb-qAWNUQADsxLB8qrnmXSJQmHyxKOet8/s1600/G650GS+asphaltandrubber.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48t5GqFqb0HPjjO-7q__MMnRhVXZwTgUjZ2z5FR6Plj8AFnuY4S0bp10pfw8OpOEh1zAKi3spaEoJkjCrJLRwIkdvh_Dhs4JJISkhXljnrjMKb-qAWNUQADsxLB8qrnmXSJQmHyxKOet8/s1600/G650GS+asphaltandrubber.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">www.asphaltandrubber.com</span></div>
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BMW's G650GS your ticket to adventure riding and beyond if one ever wishes to eat some dirt (test rides most definitely available). </div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">www.rideapart.com</span></div>
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Thriumph's Street Tiple R simply astonishing, one may have to contact Thriumph's regional corporate office in order to secure a test ride. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIQjK85N1yl2Me31bctKNDzp5gF8BFjGIVeEmgIULtKdO7ltX_hWqI-r6M5GRxSfjhBMwE-G1ACAn5udNCJDe4okUMPQ2VDlrxzVNO6-4gNP575CMLN35SxMKJ0cwC4mvk_74-mg2GRcJQ/s1600/img.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIQjK85N1yl2Me31bctKNDzp5gF8BFjGIVeEmgIULtKdO7ltX_hWqI-r6M5GRxSfjhBMwE-G1ACAn5udNCJDe4okUMPQ2VDlrxzVNO6-4gNP575CMLN35SxMKJ0cwC4mvk_74-mg2GRcJQ/s1600/img.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">www.yamaha.com</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yamaha's FZ 07 the new moto on the block. I had to drive 120 miles roundtrip to a Yahama demo day event in order to test ride the latest hot moto on the scene!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rider profile: 5'6", 130lbs, 29' inseam/ 171cm,59kg, 74cm inseam</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Years riding: Not enough</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Preferred moto style: Sport touring</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">At first I was a bit apprehensive about the the test ride, but there is only way to find out if you'd like to spend your hard earned currency on a moto or not, one must test ride; considering it was a major holiday in my geographic area of residence there weren't many people around to interrupt my cheap thrills and search for moto bliss. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Yamaha reps were friendly and after signing the usual "ride at your own risk and don't wreck our machine" waiver I was off on an escorted test ride. This machine embodies the beauty of pure simplicity. Allow me to elaborate: it is a basic approach to tarmac surfing, a potent engine, adorned by wheels and body work in different shades of appealing colors. The following are missing: fairing, ABS, traction control, throttle by wire, electronic adjustable suspension on the fly, nope, good luck if this is what you wish for. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What you will find is the equivalent of an old fashion muscle vehicle on two wheels: raw power and brakes for the time when one must actually slow down. At a claimed weight of just under 400 lbs. the bike feels light and easy to maneuver, also the seat is really narrow near the tank and wide at the rear allowing those of adverse stature to reach the ground with both boots flat. The first thing I noticed (maybe due to lack of saddle time) is that the throttle felt sort of twitchy and made me wish for some type of adjustment knob. Although, I suspect this could be remedy after a few hundred miles and allowing muscle memory to take over. The brake lever is adjustable while the throttle is not but is easy to operate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The geometry of the bike allows for an upright comfortable seating position. The lack of fairing only becomes evident at around 60mph/96km, anything under 50mph/80 and the wind was hardly disruptive. The speedometer/control box is really low and it takes some effort to look down while riding to verify that one is still riding under legal limits. It does however display a plethora of ride data, to include a gear indicator and ambient temperature, something really useful should one ever have any doubts as to whether it is really 100F! The gas tank can be locked and it is covered by composite body work. If you carry a tank bag as I do you may have to procure a small bolt-on-to rim type of bag, as a magnetic type is out of the question. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am far from a suspension expert, so all I can say is that it felt more than adequate for the demands I may exert on it( as did the brakes). I was really impressed with the wide beefy radial tires! Although, I never pushed the limits of the speedometer, the ride felt comfortable and confidence inspiring on the highway, I never had to use the 5th or 6th gear. <span style="font-size: large;">I did find the rear brake pedal to be a bit lower than I'd like but it was not a major issue. The controls (blinkers, horn) on the left hand were a bit small and hard to find/feel with gloves on. The fit and finish is better than average. I've only seen the white and red one, I have not seen the graphite with the cool colored wheels yet. If the finish is anything like the other two it should look awesome. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yamaha claims a fuel capacity of 3.7 gallons/14 liters and a 58mpg/93km that should provide an approximate range of about 150miles/242km under sedate riding conditions. This is not bad considering that when touring a break is usually taken at around 100 miles. I have looked around and there are already a few aftermarket accessories available to include hard cases that would make this moto a nice option for sport touring. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Overall I was impressed with Yamaha's offering, critics will fault the lack of abs, (insert own) and other items. However, the aggregate of machine and the surprisingly moderate asking price make for a notable contender and a fun moto. Only patience and more saddle demo time will determine what my next steed will be. Enjoy the Ride.</span></div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-53789701474071334302014-04-06T22:03:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.837-04:00Sport touring sabbatical...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">A few weeks ago I rode the CBR250R fifty miles due west on I66 towards Virginia, at the end of this ride I dismounted, shut it off and handed the keys to a new owner. This act concluded our endeavors.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am now moto less and evaluating the next odyssey. Some may ask what happened? Wasn't the 250 a half decent steed? What about all of the experiences, tours, endless miles? All valid inquiries. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One day I found myself browsing catalogs and constantly thinking about upgrades for the CBR, wishing and thinking about what I thought it should be and enjoying less what it actually is. I was also less inspired to venture out on the tarmac and doubling down on my existence. And that's how I knew a new moto phase was upon us. As the old adage goes "change is good" and so I will be changing motos, I even changed my blog handle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am unsure as to when I will return to the tarmac. There are still plenty of moto aspirations to be fulfilled, all in due time. In the meantime I will stroll down the virtual waxy floors of moto dealerships evaluating their offerings and when my inspiration returns so will I to the open tarmac. This is my reality exponentially beautiful reality. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Be well, be jovial. </span></div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-63514940580317575752013-12-29T21:14:00.000-05:002019-09-26T19:41:55.918-04:00Sport Touring: Deciphering the road on a CBR250R… One mile at time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p>It’s dark and gloomy, the rain is steady and it quickly
sodden the ground. The temperature hovers around 48F, a warm day for a late December
afternoon in the North East. It’s a welcome change that I am observing this day
unfold from the comfort of my subterranean quarters, rather than on the road while touring on my 250. I’m
warm, dry, comfortably quaffing an Abbey Ale and contemplating where the road
may lead next.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I’ve been off the saddle for a couple of months, old winter
has arrived along with new responsibilities that conspire against my moto lifestyle,
I miss surfing, and I miss my moto. Thus far, I have experienced three
successful riding seasons, some would advise me to quit now and cash in my good
luck and sit in the safety of my living room. Others may suggest I need a real
bike and should acquire a new steed maybe a BMW F800GT, BMW F650GS or a Triumph
Street Triple (all stunning motos!).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">After >9500 miles on the 250, I still relish the prospect
of surfing the open road. The open road where one may find or lose oneself. My
experiences on the road cover a wide spectrum of emotions, sights and actions.
These experiences even countered and affected my common outlook and increased
my optimism. During my travels I encountered something unexpected, random
kindness. I seldom worry now while touring, I know that I will find my
destination, my moto will be there in the morning, my gear will work as
intended and the weather will abate. I should only concern myself with riding
to the best of my ability and enjoying the ride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I have considered forfeiting my moto lifestyle except at the
end of the day surfing is what I do best and the 250 is a semi-capable steed, thus I
declined procuring any of the aforementioned steeds, at least for now. After a few thousand miles
of deciphering the road I now know that my moto is my transporter and it is not
the object that I seek rather the realm: a realm that evokes intensity and a
lucid perception of reality, exponentially beautiful reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="separator" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">And
you may ask, what is it like to be out on the road for days by yourself? I am
unable to answer this question, but perhaps this image may offer an insight.
Indeed, we live in a beautiful world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">
</span>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">
</span>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">
</span>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">
</span></div>
Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-1408711716541504082013-09-13T00:32:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.312-04:00CBR250R Sport-touring… Retrospectively <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was back on 2011 July 30th
when I took delivery of my CBR250R (aka Scully). Over two years later, I am
still here I am still surfing. Thus, I thought it would be appropriate to pause
and take a moment to ponder and enjoy the moment. When I set out to start
blogging I was apprehensive about writing, about sharing with all who wish to
read my perspectives on touring and related topics. And yet I set out to write
with only one goal: to share my adventures in a poignant, unapologetic manner. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Sport touring is a questionable
endeavor, one full with many perils yet immensely rewarding. As I have
mentioned on previous posts, every trip is filled with common uncertainty,
elusive perfection. It is this axiom that pervades my mind constantly, the
knowledge that any trip at any given time can be a one-way tour. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I would like to thank my family (and my four legged dependents) for simply being there and supporting my choice
and freedom to surf. I would like to thank you the unknown follower for coming
along for The Ride. My name is Fredo, I am a Tarmac surfer is what I do best,
it is what inspires me, and this is my reality exponentially beautiful reality.</span>
</div>
<!--EndFragment-->
</div>
Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-49316064287828674842013-09-01T17:20:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.723-04:00Sport Touring: AGV leather suit and touring set up review*<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been riding the 250 for
over two years and over 8300 miles and continuously tinkering with my gear and
set up. These are my two cents on the topic.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*Disclaimer: I am not an expert
on the subject matter, simply a moto enthusiast.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">AGV Dragon leather jacket and Willow perforated pants</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Miles < 500</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I opted for this suit on my last
trip and it worked really well. The jacket is made of thick heavy cowhide that feels nice to the
touch and reassuring should one happen to slide on the tarmac. The red
stripping is a nice touch. It has CE rated armor on the shoulders, and elbows
and a regular thin pad on the back. It is not perforated instead it has two
zippers in the front and two in the back that provide minimal airflow.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn7PmDQBrvHSZ4Izg4MbC-qEHANQfh8Q-ugz9hfdMcSIhCFbVUP16rhoDnh1Hn0J4WxsnKWy6d5FCb3m1jXzduexx4X-IicI8Sfxxw0iQBqeAmVhFt8RDKpoJi9DtPqOggM281vBhqaakX/s1600/IMG_0169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn7PmDQBrvHSZ4Izg4MbC-qEHANQfh8Q-ugz9hfdMcSIhCFbVUP16rhoDnh1Hn0J4WxsnKWy6d5FCb3m1jXzduexx4X-IicI8Sfxxw0iQBqeAmVhFt8RDKpoJi9DtPqOggM281vBhqaakX/s400/IMG_0169.JPG" height="300" width="400" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Photo credit by the Tripod</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It can get really hot in this thing, at around 85F and humid it was really uncomfortable at a stand still, once moving it was tolerable. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fit (at least for me) is just
right, at 5’ 6”, 130lbs. I normally wear a size 36 Short coat, but base on
AGV’s sizing I ordered a size U.S. 40 and fits nicely. The jacket comes with a removable thin
vest for cooler weather, but I think I will wear my Gore wind stopper fleece
under it for extra warmth when needed.
The fit around the neck and shoulder is nice and snug, the armor sits
comfortably on the shoulders, forearms and elbows. The only thing that I found
may be a problem for some is the forearm fit, they are really narrow and fit
snug even for me, maybe is supposed to be this way by design to hold the armor
in place during a slide. Either way is not physically uncomfortable but it hot
weather the forearms will get really sweaty and stick to the liner. This is not
deal breaker for me, since the rest of the jacket fits and is well made for the
price.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The inside of the jacket has one
small zippered pocket big enough for a cell phone and a wallet, the outside has
an additional two pockets. Overall the jacket feels and fits nicely, has waist
zippers so it can be connected to other agv products and for the price it is a
really nice and practical deal.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pants also feel heavy but
nice to the touch, the leather is thick and it has CE armor on the knee and
shin areas, some padding on the seat, and stretchable fabric behind the knees
and crotch area for airflow and comfort.
It also comes with removable pucks attached via Velcro for a possible
track session. Sizing is true to
size, at 5’ 6” 30 inseam, I ordered a size 30 and it fit just right. It fits snug around the waist, but
won’t make you feel like a sausage (assuming a one has somewhat slim waist). It
comes standard with a zipper, a waist strap, and two small front zippered
pockets, basic but functional
design.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pants feel awkward when
standing but once on the bike they fall in place and fit really snug and mostly
comfortable. The only thing I have
found so far to be an issue and this may have to do with breaking them in is
that the knee pads tend to compress the kneecaps and add pressure after
extended periods or riding leading to discomfort. The calf area fits really snug and it closes via a zipper, I
tuck mine in my boots for added safety and comfort. I am not sure if these can
be worn over boots.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pants and jackets can be zip
together but I have not worn them attached yet. After nearly five hundred miles
mostly worn on the open road I’d give this set up a good rating. I can’t
comment on durability yet, but so far craftsmanship is acceptable for the price
point. The leather is not
waterproof so if you plan on wearing these on extended trips a rain suit is a
must.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">250R touring set up</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have had this set up for the
entire time I’ve own my bike and had made only slight adjustments. The saddlebags and tank bag are First
Gear Silverstone. They have held up to long miles on the road under high heat
and lots of rain. (they are not waterproof). I have used large plastic bags for
keeping items dry in the saddlebags but will be switching to 35-liter dry bags
as carry on in the near future. The bags did come with rain covers, but I think
they are useless. I only use the rain cover for the tank bag. I like to use a
minimalist approach to gear when traveling and tend to think that if it does
not fit in these bags (excluding my sleeping bag) than I can do without it.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3U2nSGPGawT0_q_kY8UX_EpdJU_HFda6LTvYhCLI558a0MT6J5Coewyog6z5_SeAWRoTbQYMVeClBy3QyByt07VGMd-4kwsBhSrBkw34GNw8iNcMNFySUDq8UoV09pGy42dkGB-dtldR/s1600/IMG_0161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3U2nSGPGawT0_q_kY8UX_EpdJU_HFda6LTvYhCLI558a0MT6J5Coewyog6z5_SeAWRoTbQYMVeClBy3QyByt07VGMd-4kwsBhSrBkw34GNw8iNcMNFySUDq8UoV09pGy42dkGB-dtldR/s400/IMG_0161.JPG" height="300" width="400" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you look closely you can see the cable running from under the seat to the the tank bag and the gps. On the right side you can see the water reservoir. I use Rok straps to attach the saddle bags to the bike along with DYI saddle bag supports that consist of two 24" aluminum bars attached to passenger pegs via hose clamps. Simple and practical. The only thing missing in this shot is the new yellow dry bag. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I also like to avoid strapping
multiple items that flap in the air and can be lost, so lately I acquired a 65
liter compressible dry bag for my sleeping and cold weather gear that tend to
be bulky. I also installed a RAM mount to hold my gps, it is a car version a
bit outdated but it gets the job done. I also carry an assortment of maps as my
primary navigation tools. I used the battery tender power cable to power
electronics such as the gps, phone charger or other items. It works well except
I can only power one item at a time, I may install a power distributor in the
future to handle multiple items simultaneously. When you are out on the road
for days it is a welcome luxury to be able to power your phone and gps.</span> </div>
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The challenge is converting this mess into... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicYjj6C6tLbcW3AYnmSHyTItizWMRx8gvzvBAGP8NlCkicEd0L0uvRkUi5VJek5Mswp35-nU9T725NZuj8Igm3F_69E4VVlsUBQojXtZW0UyLypY8NqwIQRNiLqQhV9ATBjU3YCeEXzqRt/s1600/IMG_0053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicYjj6C6tLbcW3AYnmSHyTItizWMRx8gvzvBAGP8NlCkicEd0L0uvRkUi5VJek5Mswp35-nU9T725NZuj8Igm3F_69E4VVlsUBQojXtZW0UyLypY8NqwIQRNiLqQhV9ATBjU3YCeEXzqRt/s400/IMG_0053.JPG" height="400" width="300" /> </a></div>
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Something that looks like an organized Moto traveler </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For hydration needs I switched to
a Platypus water reservoir (bpa free), it is easier to clean and it won’t make
the water taste foul, like other brands. I tend to fill it with one third water
and the rest with ice and place it in one of the saddle bags, this allows for
neutral tasting, cold water for a few hours. I used to place it in my tank bag,
but it takes a lot of space, it could leak and ruing my electronics, and having
in it the back forces me to stop for breaks to drink and stretch. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Depending on my destination I may carry all or a combination of the following: chain lube, three pairs of gloves (heated, perforated, and non heated water proof), paper maps, one person tent, thermarest sleeping pad, 0 degree sleeping bag, gps, phone charger, coins for tolls roads, warm/windproof fleece, pants, shirts and under garments made of breathable materials (not cotton). I also carry spare keys, two disc locks, head lamp, camera w/tripod, ear plugs, sneakers, a travel size bike cover and always a slime tire repair kit with a pump under the seat.
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Feel free to comment and let me know if you have suggestions or questions about the set up. Enjoy the Ride. </span></div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-31517574821310252252013-08-31T21:21:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.465-04:00Sport Touring: Day tripping in Pennsylvania… double down on 423W and the Bovine suit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mileage: 410 miles/ 659 km </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Temperature: 60F-85F
humid/ 18C-30C</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Average mpg: 71.5 </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ocean surfers scrutinize the
weather forecast, wind and tide patterns before paddling out and waiting for
the perfect set. As a Tarmac
Surfer I follow the weather, scrutinize roads and seek out a set of routes,
different environments similar goals. I’ve been on the road for nearly three
hours now surfing northeast on PA road 30. The sky is gray, overcast, it’s
around 80F, humid, and there are 18-wheeled <i>sentinels</i>
everywhere. This was supposed to be a decent road, what happened? I observe oncoming traffic and their
windshield wipers are swaying back and forth like a crowd at a concert
listening to a 90’s rock ballad. I’m a little concern. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I left my waterproof suit at home
and opted for something different, too late now for regrets, it’s time to let
the 250R facilitate surfing and simply let it roll. My destination for this
trip is a small town in NE Pennsylvania, Jim Thorpe. I’ve been here once before
and thought I should return on my moto, today is that day. After a few thousand
miles of sport touring I have learned to never expect ideal weather, rather
simply strive for a tranquil state of mind. I only need to cover two hundred
miles, except I have a feeling given my current route; I am really going to
earn these two hundred miles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So far I’ve slugged my way
through city traffic, found myself surrounded by big rigs under the threat of
rain in what feels like a sauna, and now a bright sign informs me to expect
delays, really? It’s time to soothe the mind, aggravation would be futile. What
surround me are merely everyday irrelevant complexities, right now is just
Scully and I, and as Jack Johnson would sing, it’s better when we are
together. And so I pushed on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s around 1330 now, am four
miles away from my destination. I’ve just filled up on petrol and am ready to
roll. As I as raised my gaze and got ready to roll I spotted an elder gentleman
wearing a distinct hat, he is a Leatherneck from a previous era. His facial
expression denotes life experiences that are beyond my years and wisdom, he
stands tall and proud. He looks at
me as I break and paused, pulled the clutch, stood still on my moto and saluted
him with my right hand, and carried on. Sometimes one must pay homage, Semper
Fidelis.</span><br />
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It took me longer than expected to get there, then again why rush. </div>
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Finally, I’ve arrived at my
destination. I am tired, sweaty, sleepy but dry. The town is just as I remembered it, quaint and quiet,
excellent. I checked in at my home for the evening and set about to explore on
foot.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhheNw-ZvEKo5DOrDXTsPIddzTrNa5gsSNJRnrmGAvFc74JopnxLddPSF8MB4KR0tZKhWr8N1dUlSw1Vh4xP4pUfJ9lnExIUqE0bBspk5wOKFf6c0uQNCVhn2arPG7vceSr2X8FENMSPD/s1600/IMG_0106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhheNw-ZvEKo5DOrDXTsPIddzTrNa5gsSNJRnrmGAvFc74JopnxLddPSF8MB4KR0tZKhWr8N1dUlSw1Vh4xP4pUfJ9lnExIUqE0bBspk5wOKFf6c0uQNCVhn2arPG7vceSr2X8FENMSPD/s400/IMG_0106.JPG" width="300" /> </a></div>
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Another stay at a Historic place, the experience this time was a lot different. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihUMt3CXr05IBmF9a8frI3Tc6kMmZfnEe-YY1aAjq76Jky710juKyK6cztn28tBLTnEsuz0BucLKTEw6guDiQ-q2CqFZgZ1sdkWPXjUmcTA3Jjjvd6Nyd5HvnFpN84rkMzlKmYUkSeLuRZ/s1600/IMG_0116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihUMt3CXr05IBmF9a8frI3Tc6kMmZfnEe-YY1aAjq76Jky710juKyK6cztn28tBLTnEsuz0BucLKTEw6guDiQ-q2CqFZgZ1sdkWPXjUmcTA3Jjjvd6Nyd5HvnFpN84rkMzlKmYUkSeLuRZ/s400/IMG_0116.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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After a few hours of riding in the heat in a leather suit, I was ready for a break, a snack and cooling off. Freshly brew tea with freshly baked butter soft scones in a historic setting sounded like a good idea, as a bonus it was delicious.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkkmmt2IrT8LYDBq4icglkmYx16mouXW2rplUCr_aEmHdDMe4BZQEPxJEj6lPu5gAFssyEA_6oU3expCQTMmU8IGlDzalzUPm5F9mQe5ELQaHJaXDru7jl9e8az28FycZNkGC_nKA8zPgD/s1600/IMG_0117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkkmmt2IrT8LYDBq4icglkmYx16mouXW2rplUCr_aEmHdDMe4BZQEPxJEj6lPu5gAFssyEA_6oU3expCQTMmU8IGlDzalzUPm5F9mQe5ELQaHJaXDru7jl9e8az28FycZNkGC_nKA8zPgD/s400/IMG_0117.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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This is a view of the rest of the dining area, in era appropriate colors. </div>
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This was home for the evening, it exceeded my expectations.</div>
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Dinner on the other hand, offer little to blog about. I may need to send a couple of suggestions to the chef. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3pOErZsmvNABngpRl77gB7K8knYtqMpjM-YZzJdp6cSqHVFPTrQSdSWpsE2g2kQeoAYS69T6rydoBNqUDdLRa1En-iymggQcLYBUxK4MbJyvg19JrWckU8IwnPnJSyXdrfv9Zee47AKLt/s1600/IMG_0127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3pOErZsmvNABngpRl77gB7K8knYtqMpjM-YZzJdp6cSqHVFPTrQSdSWpsE2g2kQeoAYS69T6rydoBNqUDdLRa1En-iymggQcLYBUxK4MbJyvg19JrWckU8IwnPnJSyXdrfv9Zee47AKLt/s400/IMG_0127.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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Last time I visited this placed they allowed us to bring our canine dependent on board. </div>
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A view of the train station, one can board the train for a fee and take a short ride along the river. My pup really enjoyed it on the last visit. </div>
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I went for a stroll on the main square. </div>
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And along a few of the side streets. </div>
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The architecture style of the period is interesting and somewhat visually appealing. </div>
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A different view of the fully "functional" main square clock, as I found out early the next morning. Who needs a wake up call from the front desk when you have this!</div>
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Considering my less than
adventurous first half of this trip, I needed to find a different set of routes
to lead me home. I pondered as to what routes to follow as I sat on the second
floor balcony enjoying a Pale Ale watching the rain fall. Some riders are
gamblers I am a tactician. The
goal is simple: ride safe and enjoy the ride. It’s time to double down! Route PA 423W offers an
alternative to yesterday’s experience, as I evaluated the route on a one-dimensional
map, I had a few doubts in the end I let it roll.<br />
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And this is what greeted me somewhere along my route.</div>
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In my realm smooth tarmac,
mountain passes, idyllic towns, green pastures and magnificent sweeping turns
and/or twisties are beyond appealing, they are indicative of awakening. State
roads such PA 423W can offer some combination of the aforementioned to those
willing to surf them. It is time to disconnect, social media is irrelevant and smart
phones are merely a distraction. I doubt either one of these tools can direct
you to the next farmers’ fruit and vegetable stand along this road or the
town’s residents favorite dinner. For this type of information one just might
have to ride there. I’m in. </div>
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The first class view from my cockpit, and unlike on an airline the air is cleaner, the snacks are fresh off the farmers' land and one is free to roam.</div>
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It’s time to surf, the price of admission: complete unselfconsciousness,
ride well or kiss the tarmac. The order of the day calls for variable rates of
speed punctuated by smooth climbs and long sweeping turns. This is a two-lane road that meanders
up and down small hills, it glides right and left with a subtle yet intoxicating
rhythm. For the next eighty-five miles, I surfed uninhibited,
unconcerned over some sweet tarmac, as sweet as freshly made vanilla ice
cream. I’ll take a double scoop, thank you very much. </div>
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During my time on the road I only
experienced a light drizzle, my two-piece bovine suit performed as expected
(a gear and touring set up review is forthcoming) and PA 423W delivered! The planning and
persistence pays off and I managed to ride all 410 miles on something other
than a super slab, safely. That’s reality exponentially beautiful reality.<br />
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A Tarmac Surfer's self portrait. Enjoy the Ride. </div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-50857580977137723562013-08-26T19:51:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.781-04:00Sport Touring: West Virginia is for Sport-tourers… Ride what you own, Ride where you are.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Mileage: 340 miles/ 547 km</div>
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Temperature: 59F +/ 15C +</div>
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Highest grade: 10 %</div>
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Average mpg: 65 mpg</div>
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<br />
<br />
I believe a moto enthusiast from
the far South once said: “One is never lost, rather, one is following a path
unseen by others” (FC).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve
mentioned in previous posts how the West Coast is an awesome place to ride,
except I had failed to mentioned and acknowledge how the East Coast can be an
awesome place to ride… as well. A drastic change of opinion you may say,
indeed.<br />
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It’s Friday around 20:00, I’ve
been couch surfing for a couple of days trying to decide where to go on a ride.
I pondered and pondered and then I set my sights on Seneca Rocks, WV. (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSCnBeczy0U">Cued soundtrack</a>
sit back grab a Pale Ale and enjoy the ride).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a process to trip planning sort of habitual,
ponder, decide, plan and execute. Except, this time I decided to deviate from
the habitual by inviting any willing 250R rider from the area to join the
ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twenty-four hours later
Zirgs (from the cbr250r.net forum) answered the call and decided to join and
set out to tarmac surf. Excellent. I had not expected anyone to respond
considering it was on such short notice and high mileage for a day trip.</div>
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Fast forward to Sunday at 0745, Haymarket
VA. after a brief introduction we are ready to Surf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The temperature is hovering around 59F, cool with a slight
wind, clear skies and low humidity, excellent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first 65 miles entailed surfing Interstate 66, a super
slab, yes, but one almost void of big rigs. The next 100 miles is what I seek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We turned southbound I 81 for a couple
of miles until a sign welcomed and directed us towards State Road 55. And this
is where the idyllic Surfing begins.</div>
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Moto enthusiasts will travel near and afar, cross-country or the world in order to find beautiful roads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve learned a few things during my
existence, thus I now know that sometimes it all depends on perspective and
outlook. What I seek transcends visual stimulation and it may also be found nearby if one knows where to search.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The air is cool and it brings a chill that rattles one's core,
there is a slight hint of fog in the distance, the tarmac is smooth and it allows the
250R to glide almost effortlessly with only minimal rider input.</div>
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The road meanders through green
pastures, the smells awaken your senses, the variable speed keeps the rider
alert, and the steep climbs and descends offer potential reality checks should
one decided to daydream. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
an environment void of urban monolithic symbols and in their place are new, old, and
sometimes dilapidated barns. To the uninitiated a barn is a simple structure, but if
you look closely you will find that simplicity can be beautiful, indeed. </div>
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Finally, after a few hours on the
road we reached our destination. We arrived, we admired, and we turned back
and headed home. And you may ask, that’s it? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why go there to simply turn
around? I can only speak for myself, and as one famous outdoorsman once said “
The Mountains are calling and I must go” (J. Muir) and I concur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike, a mythical omnipotent being,
The Mountains exist, that is reality, exponentially
beautiful reality.<br />
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170 miles later...</div>
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It's time to enjoy the view. </div>
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Same machine, two different perspectives. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1MMgd2STM3_nWcs2tx8dCgtYhR-tYOxvDJd0FbI4E5P8dJEWZMiKQ4oZo_EfrclaiT-xOpBKLvOgrfaMNh8gs0qcIOjWVCcakzEdNNegsD_ApH-o-sla8WKexaDxrVg18I5ozx7hekyVs/s1600/IMG_0094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1MMgd2STM3_nWcs2tx8dCgtYhR-tYOxvDJd0FbI4E5P8dJEWZMiKQ4oZo_EfrclaiT-xOpBKLvOgrfaMNh8gs0qcIOjWVCcakzEdNNegsD_ApH-o-sla8WKexaDxrVg18I5ozx7hekyVs/s400/IMG_0094.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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It is possible to hike to the top.</div>
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The Visitor Center was impressive.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAvUxZph2qr96y3KdPfAkHgI-1xE8RhJoP0UEf4-wCbJO22arGQ1-VQYnevGontU_hdXNOirQATrra7T8rP1YceT6D2EW0vSXZELHUTW4TWx0solgKueU0ceXEKPKkRZocbhjWoonPHVS6/s1600/IMG_0095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAvUxZph2qr96y3KdPfAkHgI-1xE8RhJoP0UEf4-wCbJO22arGQ1-VQYnevGontU_hdXNOirQATrra7T8rP1YceT6D2EW0vSXZELHUTW4TWx0solgKueU0ceXEKPKkRZocbhjWoonPHVS6/s400/IMG_0095.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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We even found a gravel road to explore.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSKcblGhyphenhyphenF5EFqKc4IQ7rdGIcrQ9q4f4er8ofHT1-A9Zgpk9ehIHP_hNvvpzhR9SNZXIegnGgAA9d7PLWfAQ7-uhC5NCUXvxCqexb9bU-ZdLlJ_NGBuUo08ysZrnxkhfgU5nkLsFERLJ5/s1600/IMG_0096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSKcblGhyphenhyphenF5EFqKc4IQ7rdGIcrQ9q4f4er8ofHT1-A9Zgpk9ehIHP_hNvvpzhR9SNZXIegnGgAA9d7PLWfAQ7-uhC5NCUXvxCqexb9bU-ZdLlJ_NGBuUo08ysZrnxkhfgU5nkLsFERLJ5/s400/IMG_0096.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Unfortunately, it led on to private property and we had to stop, so much for ADV riding. The 250R has proven to be highway capable and now dirt road capable. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBAB8IzGhqSiQodF99QBCy86wNU520__EVhDv1AeZ2Vzs8pgmHCEVKuS93JCQA9MpgQybPq33MhxmRVUxG9PwgfQdKOapt1_EW7fugGZcqsqU7FKaQDCsYmuT3dd-graalUpwr9abwKRk/s1600/IMG_0104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBAB8IzGhqSiQodF99QBCy86wNU520__EVhDv1AeZ2Vzs8pgmHCEVKuS93JCQA9MpgQybPq33MhxmRVUxG9PwgfQdKOapt1_EW7fugGZcqsqU7FKaQDCsYmuT3dd-graalUpwr9abwKRk/s400/IMG_0104.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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After a long day on the saddle it was time to sit back and enjoy an Ale. </div>
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Safe travels Zirgs, and thanks for coming out to tarmac surf.</div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-53957110051338911442013-07-30T12:54:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.858-04:00Sport-touring: DC to Niagara Falls ... ground level reconnaissance <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Mileage: +-870/ 1400 km</div>
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Highest elevation: 2500 ft/ 762 meters</div>
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Average mpg: 70.4</div>
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Highest grade: 9 %</div>
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Day 1</div>
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DC to Chambersburg, PA. </div>
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Mileage: 100</div>
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="350" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Silver+Spring,+MD&daddr=39.3159336,-77.0025884+to:39.528704,-76.9883484+to:39.666174,-77.017144+to:39.9045404,-77.4709578+to:Chambersburg,+PA&geocode=FUrzUgId2Kxo-ykn6WpmTs-3iTHfmrJlqDOEAA%3BFd3pVwIdpAhp-ymfOFwLGSbIiTE2vB73Rfje4Q%3BFQApWwIdREBp-ynN7x30yTnIiTFsHTROHulzvQ%3BFf5BXQIdyM9o-ykPW1gbVE_IiTE8Lw3gODoJ4Q%3BFRzlYAIdE-Nh-ynvmbDL0qbJiTGrhphHOe214g%3BFTdmYQIdUvxe-ymblp0rxXbJiTGnYLoPe3_zMA&aq=0&oq=chambers&sll=39.315043,-76.963863&sspn=0.070788,0.151749&hl=en&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=13&via=1,2,3,4&ie=UTF8&ll=39.315043,-76.963863&spn=0.070788,0.151749&t=m&output=embed" width="425"></iframe><br />
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It’s Friday around 1520, dark and quiet. I am lying on the floor inside my space on my back with my eyes closed; I take one deep breath, two, and three. It’s time to go. I’ve just finished my desk jockey shift and I am ready to roll, I picked up my helmet, tank bag and gloves. And just like a fighter pilot I walked over to my moto ready to hit the tarmac.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNboosCKC29iNQkTbhdFoObaJyzGesRlZTOx5gsD4Wuxjuyk55xKaa5lozyGzf0loGiTtf-KdXVpLjdI3MUAppYX2EcPL-WGdr3QCuJL1a8WRufMq55Tz9jVMRPiTWgX6iOou7xXAcDoz/s1600/100_1382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNboosCKC29iNQkTbhdFoObaJyzGesRlZTOx5gsD4Wuxjuyk55xKaa5lozyGzf0loGiTtf-KdXVpLjdI3MUAppYX2EcPL-WGdr3QCuJL1a8WRufMq55Tz9jVMRPiTWgX6iOou7xXAcDoz/s400/100_1382.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The 250 fully loaded and ready to roll</div>
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I have been planning this trip for a while now, and every time I thought it would happen something seemed to conspire against me, the weather, equipment or simply plain old excuses, not today. It’s time for a systems check: lights, levers, tires, mind check, all systems are go. The ambitious plan for the weekend is to travel from DC to Niagara Falls, NY. via State Roads (SR) and avoid the super slab as much as possible.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9sA1KooKKrzF4DsiPHtu378Zecv7eFJYZBv5cEM4ILOYnToWTR8PNY-4F7m1xTBJ52N9w9ucPB1acUVGINWfvTibdMqaUmhtXJn-PDtRYn-X0v1YA3eYB_64HSSAX2Y8qF3Y3CmD4msJ/s1600/100_1421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9sA1KooKKrzF4DsiPHtu378Zecv7eFJYZBv5cEM4ILOYnToWTR8PNY-4F7m1xTBJ52N9w9ucPB1acUVGINWfvTibdMqaUmhtXJn-PDtRYn-X0v1YA3eYB_64HSSAX2Y8qF3Y3CmD4msJ/s400/100_1421.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Inside the 250's cockpit, ready for take off.<br />
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The weather calls for 80F/26C, sunny with around 60% humidity, not a bad thing if you are walking around in shorts or other skimpy outfits, except I am “standing” in traffic with full gear on and I am starting to feel a bit like a <i>hot pocket</i>! I tend to be cautious and ride ATGATT. Even though is Friday traffic is dense and moving slow, too slow for me but I don’t have a choice. And I slugged through traffic on road MD 29 until I reached MD 32 and was able to pick up some speed.</div>
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This is the view from my cockpit as I ride MD 29 northbound, welcome to <i>The Matrix</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFsYu7JxtAZXGkjksH9bq7q6-u8jIeNlCR71e_K3QyBkvCzZpLjKq7EOwbmRuJAQjJ-B_gfprSnMQLaDKwPm9UjQkTiAImnII-4maAgR4075HQQwUS-Ky5mwJENGwRZobE5ZF4iWGQN7g4/s1600/100_1375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFsYu7JxtAZXGkjksH9bq7q6-u8jIeNlCR71e_K3QyBkvCzZpLjKq7EOwbmRuJAQjJ-B_gfprSnMQLaDKwPm9UjQkTiAImnII-4maAgR4075HQQwUS-Ky5mwJENGwRZobE5ZF4iWGQN7g4/s400/100_1375.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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With so many cages around sometimes is hard to see the signs and inevitably I take unplanned turns<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjw6qSQq4Cv4GmV1_VJzQRL79_mERx3OnPeTmtHvZWrfPuBYbeyzUjiONecgUJIxy0tEGEkiyP0mGV94Ht1mTPEVPVO3_o45cnggdETFDhsWOcL24qV6H7XPGS4EEW6Sn97ZCltVDq2Db/s1600/100_1376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjw6qSQq4Cv4GmV1_VJzQRL79_mERx3OnPeTmtHvZWrfPuBYbeyzUjiONecgUJIxy0tEGEkiyP0mGV94Ht1mTPEVPVO3_o45cnggdETFDhsWOcL24qV6H7XPGS4EEW6Sn97ZCltVDq2Db/s400/100_1376.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
Riding northbound PA 97 just south of Gettysburg</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2RkCuwAB7BdZpuGTxK6DYgNmcWI1ogn3YCb8ojKfhlvoPDqYctz73Ez2wfjciOyBy98ARctQLxAMf-7EzwwQsdAFFVAnVFuxbepp8tcKT4i-1yIyc3_f2AgUWlgws_dpAf1pqlc9gj1W/s1600/100_1377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2RkCuwAB7BdZpuGTxK6DYgNmcWI1ogn3YCb8ojKfhlvoPDqYctz73Ez2wfjciOyBy98ARctQLxAMf-7EzwwQsdAFFVAnVFuxbepp8tcKT4i-1yIyc3_f2AgUWlgws_dpAf1pqlc9gj1W/s400/100_1377.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I made a quick stop in Downtown Gettysburg, PA., for a photo op, this place is really popular during summer and this circle tends to become really hectic and sort of moto unfriendly.</div>
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One of many monuments along the Battlefields.</div>
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My destination is Chambersburg, PA. My hosts for the evening are SoPaRider and SoPaGuider an inmate couple from advrider.com forum whom graciously accepted my tent-space-request on a really short notice! After nearly two and half-hours of cruising through variations of light, heavy and slow traffic I finally reached my destination. The approximate mileage from my home to Niagara Falls appeared to be around 400 miles, that’s a long day on the saddle on a 250, thus I decided to break it up into two more manageable sections.</div>
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I had my gps with me and had been around the area before so I did not have any problems finding their place. I have never used tent space before so I was not sure as to what to expect, but as soon as I arrived I received a warm welcome and felt at ease. They are dedicated moto enthusiasts and have many great travel stories! We spend the rest of the time becoming acquainted sharing travel stories and a brew. They even took me on a tour of their town and to a place that can only be described as a beer lover home, ah thank you. The next day I had to get an early start and was up at 0530. SoPaRider is well verse in route planning, and after consulting my planned route and getting a few suggestions I was off on my SR or bust adventure.</div>
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Day 2</div>
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Chambersburg, PA., to Niagara Falls, NY., to Salamanca, NY.<br />
Mileage: 390+ </div>
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="350" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Chambersburg,+PA&daddr=40.8430246,-78.1345476+to:41.0284533,-78.4274512+to:41.168582,-78.787973+to:Niagara+Falls,+NY+to:Salamanca,+NY&hl=en&geocode=FTdmYQIdUvxe-ymblp0rxXbJiTGnYLoPe3_zMA%3BFRA3bwId7cJX-ynLC274PRDMiTFl58VtFdRSZA%3BFWULcgIdxUpT-ynTV-zZYkLMiTELR2yKnXhUwQ%3BFcYudAIde8pN-yl9uv3wBvHMiTGrWPtTBoPKew%3BFZaYkQId1fpJ-ym3M-Yp6mPTiTGzqsW55FqXYQ%3BFRFHgwIdaedO-yk_dIGxkYjSiTF7V0C4sd31PA&aq=0&oq=sal&sll=42.882505,-78.794632&sspn=0.268172,0.606995&gl=us&mra=ls&via=1,2,3&ie=UTF8&ll=41.516881,-78.332279&spn=3.158666,1.410846&t=m&output=embed" width="425"></iframe><br /></div>
<small><a href="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Chambersburg,+PA&daddr=40.8430246,-78.1345476+to:41.0284533,-78.4274512+to:41.168582,-78.787973+to:Niagara+Falls,+NY+to:Salamanca,+NY&hl=en&geocode=FTdmYQIdUvxe-ymblp0rxXbJiTGnYLoPe3_zMA%3BFRA3bwId7cJX-ynLC274PRDMiTFl58VtFdRSZA%3BFWULcgIdxUpT-ynTV-zZYkLMiTELR2yKnXhUwQ%3BFcYudAIde8pN-yl9uv3wBvHMiTGrWPtTBoPKew%3BFZaYkQId1fpJ-ym3M-Yp6mPTiTGzqsW55FqXYQ%3BFRFHgwIdaedO-yk_dIGxkYjSiTF7V0C4sd31PA&aq=0&oq=sal&sll=42.882505,-78.794632&sspn=0.268172,0.606995&gl=us&mra=ls&via=1,2,3&ie=UTF8&ll=41.516881,-78.332279&spn=3.158666,1.410846&t=m" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small> <br />
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The air smells fresh the skies are clear and it looks like is going to be a good day to ride. I geared up and thanked my hosts and new friends for their hospitality and I was off. It did not take long for me to take an unplanned turn and within three miles I had to pull over and study my map. Fortunately, shortly thereafter a couple on a truck stopped by and asked if I needed assistance, I said sure, do you know which way to road MD 11? They said we are going that way follow us! This type of pleasant encounter would later become a theme on this trip. </div>
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I may have mentioned in previous posts how much I “enjoy” the big city and how much I prefer small cities/towns. It was with the intention of riding through as many small towns as possible that I had chosen this route, except I had no idea as to what to expect. Will I run out gas? Will I this or ….? There was a mild level of anxiety, but just like in previous trips, at some point one has to simply roll the throttle and surrender all apprehension, it is time for a life lesson. One day not so long ago on my way to my nine-to-five desk jockey shift I heard a commentary on national public radio (NPR) radio, something to the effect that as humans depending on your perspective one is either living or “decaying” from birth. If our existence is predetermined as are our chromosomes than perhaps one should begin to really exist.</div>
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After I got back on track on SR 11, I begun to relax and simply ride. While touring I believe there are three <i>confounding variables</i> that affect the overall experience and ride, and those are: fatigue, known/unknown path and weather conditions (all things being equal and assuming one is a skilled rider). This morning I was mainly concern with the unknown path. One out of three is not bad, right? What I had as a route reference was a one dimensional map, I had failed to review topographical maps displaying elevation gains/losses and other pertinent useful facts, no problem I got this, I think. </div>
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The SR roads begun to meander through beautiful fields, green luscious and vibrant, punctuated by barns and other living quarters. A space unlike the one I inhabit, this is tarmac surfing indeed. I tried to memorize my route and failed, with so many turns and different SR numbers, it was like trying to juggle while riding a unicycle. After a few dozen miles I encountered my first natural obstacle, a decent size mountain. This was not a particular high mountain but it had been paved with a moto enthusiast in mind (at least I’d like to think so). The climb was sudden, coupled with tight switchbacks and a steep descend, daydream here and you will bounce on the tarmac like a bowling bowl and strike out! On the other side of this mountain, yet another wave of small towns awaited the eager surfer, no argument there. Unlike, a Las Vegas buffet this is something I am ready to indulge. </div>
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The SR’s continue to reward my perseverance with long sweeping turns, idyllic Main Streets, smooth tarmac, curious smells, ubiquitous greenery and serenity. But all is not free, the SR’s will exact an admission toll on all who wish to pass through. And I am beginning to feel fatigue. All the up and down, lean right and left, shift down and up, brake and rolled the throttle are starting to wear on me, but I can’t stop. I have searched and dreamed of such places and now I am here, I am awake and I am far from decaying!</div>
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<o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijfCK0VWCvo8hLIogux0sgewsT89oJpQAaua-lVjISiemj_GfBkJmhmJclQPt4yy5SphyozCtBC5O9p-Bu4fWiQXLw5_XoLe9o3VnWzwTxnd2qnl2ibArS2B7iK6h_7H31g84YSyWyfjKu/s1600/100_1379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijfCK0VWCvo8hLIogux0sgewsT89oJpQAaua-lVjISiemj_GfBkJmhmJclQPt4yy5SphyozCtBC5O9p-Bu4fWiQXLw5_XoLe9o3VnWzwTxnd2qnl2ibArS2B7iK6h_7H31g84YSyWyfjKu/s400/100_1379.JPG" width="400" /></a></o:p></div>
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<o:p>One of many small town Main Streets along my route. </o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfJuYSWe-R5jtPoGFn9UPiO0l9NzwyFoTpdk9RFjzz5HWtS2Gop_ChQLR-HQuGUqB6Rs7nxo6JAmdlsVWMFri0iBkBSwyrFGy1euvIppDDooXOps3MX09vq-18i72-8qO09m1-yblh84j/s1600/100_1381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfJuYSWe-R5jtPoGFn9UPiO0l9NzwyFoTpdk9RFjzz5HWtS2Gop_ChQLR-HQuGUqB6Rs7nxo6JAmdlsVWMFri0iBkBSwyrFGy1euvIppDDooXOps3MX09vq-18i72-8qO09m1-yblh84j/s400/100_1381.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Brockway NY., trying to make what I thought would be the last hard push of the day.</div>
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As I near PA SR 320 a bright road signs flashes that it is closed! It’s time to pause and study my map, a quick glance indicates that I now must enter the super slab domain. A brief encounter but an encounter nonetheless. After a few miles at what appears to be supersonic speeds for a CBR250, I am on PA SR 350 simply gliding along, until I connected to I 80 West for yet another brief super slab session eagerly waiting to intersect road 219.<br />
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NY 219 is the last section on this trip, less navigating and more riding. I’ve never ridden this road before but it delivers. There are fast and smooth sweeping 55mph sections punctuated with 25mph main street strolls, all part of the experience. However, it is a long demanding road. After a couple of hours I am now close to Buffalo NY., only twenty more miles and I will reach my objective, except now all three variables are conspiring against me. The sky is gray and gloomy, and a steady drizzle hampers traction and visibility, the path is unknown and am feeling fatigued, I must focus.</div>
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One toll and two crowded bridges under a steady drizzle later and I reached Niagara Falls NY., an anticlimactic end to first half of my journey, since I had made no other plans once I arrived. I learned that there are multiple Falls' viewing points and an excessive long pilgrimage to the Falls’ viewing sites. The place resembles an amusement park, full of cars, people jockeying for food, lodging, etc. I have a decision to make. My initial plan calls for a rendezvous with another inmate from advrider south of Buffalo, but it’s early only 1500. I sat, I pondered, evaluated, adapted and executed. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cXTq_zMpTzt7w7vz9pu_-x9exh0jBPYvqZKDGixKWVFeRP3qi8MNMvAiVdAk8MUtHA3slYAXf3_4sUgddqX9jt_klQKxc0WiAOj8kIwfLEPecssYMkUu3b5VbfM5Qsdz4Xcs2IdO9_8l/s1600/100_1384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cXTq_zMpTzt7w7vz9pu_-x9exh0jBPYvqZKDGixKWVFeRP3qi8MNMvAiVdAk8MUtHA3slYAXf3_4sUgddqX9jt_klQKxc0WiAOj8kIwfLEPecssYMkUu3b5VbfM5Qsdz4Xcs2IdO9_8l/s400/100_1384.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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The 250 in downtown Buffalo, NY., with plenty of "street residents" walking around I was unsure if I would comeback to and unloaded and much lighter 250.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil27w6-A8AZRsm0i8QPphGxwINqroEANNJdrhOZUL2u0bivfWQLEQyZLO4kCLYszDP5p0BmxftDk8n6bS_slM0ozdDL17VjdLmnKekJ-_j9WtK5_I3FlA6eY1aZyvl4gONvuox4_ozUQoa/s1600/100_1385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil27w6-A8AZRsm0i8QPphGxwINqroEANNJdrhOZUL2u0bivfWQLEQyZLO4kCLYszDP5p0BmxftDk8n6bS_slM0ozdDL17VjdLmnKekJ-_j9WtK5_I3FlA6eY1aZyvl4gONvuox4_ozUQoa/s400/100_1385.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Go Buffalo!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDA2cOpp1bestXkc-NwkLfudZfv2oiT4oA8bgA0djupma9qV3Zdzgjdso3_MKLIU12NLJcd5u_BJV_nXrWdYca1IJkyibxMRLanVcUTILpOpOREZYd0UJIfrkvnYJD2Sw9m0wQk2L4jL5O/s1600/100_1386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDA2cOpp1bestXkc-NwkLfudZfv2oiT4oA8bgA0djupma9qV3Zdzgjdso3_MKLIU12NLJcd5u_BJV_nXrWdYca1IJkyibxMRLanVcUTILpOpOREZYd0UJIfrkvnYJD2Sw9m0wQk2L4jL5O/s400/100_1386.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I was running low on “fuel” so I decided to stop in downtown Buffalo and refuel at a local pub, a rather unimpressive establishment, or maybe I missed something? At least my Brontosaurus burger tasted better than it looks (minus the bacon) I basically took over a booth that seats 6 with all my gear sprawl out on it.</div>
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It is now 1630, I decided to let it roll and headed southbound. Three hours later I arrived at Salamanca NY., at The Dudley Hotel, a historic Hotel that is being “renovated”, this will be a first. I booked a room at this placed over the phone, never heard of it, never saw a picture. In fact the only time I heard of Salamanca was in reference to Spain. I needed a place to stay and they had one available, it’s late, I’m tired, done! </div>
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As soon as I walked in, I was greeted by not one but two senior canine Hounds? This was odd, yet intriguing since I have a soft spot for canines, I am digging this place already. By now I am exhausted, I am moving at half my normal speed, all I want to do is sit and relax but I have to remove my saddle bags and lube my chain. I’m staring to wonder whether belt or shaft driven motos are better?</div>
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I must admit that when I walked into this place I was a tad apprehensive. I could not find a “safe” parking spot for my moto, but this was home for the evening like it or not. After checking in the clerk informed that I could have the VIP spot in front of the hotel, really? Ok. The following morning after a short conversation I found out that the “clerk” is really the owner along with the hounds! A really nice person, considering she rescued the hounds and is trying to renovate a historic building. When I first checked in I thought I was being overcharged, after further reconsideration I’d like to think that I’ve contributed to the local economic development by supporting a locally owned business, one that is canine friendly! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg1Jmn_dXRNZY48EDB08R4-NJz-R4iAVp18Wvh9ixrnlZZeqzrGsO6mLkh-MimOCUYu8lyP44sFjxdXdJqTB_CqYeXp7HqrPXlAs5L12VlUPWs8VFINaNhBfUdRDeR3ZqBHSkBhbNWfzD/s1600/100_1389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg1Jmn_dXRNZY48EDB08R4-NJz-R4iAVp18Wvh9ixrnlZZeqzrGsO6mLkh-MimOCUYu8lyP44sFjxdXdJqTB_CqYeXp7HqrPXlAs5L12VlUPWs8VFINaNhBfUdRDeR3ZqBHSkBhbNWfzD/s400/100_1389.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
Main street Salamanca, NY.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFttctvV_RktpugOakfLE7brDCeYrxQtTCY2jbOHAdfUW7OSpHMd22Cnq6RfAV46mxWBmvswxXuhN_h5QgQhoCQE1iDViYMdmFM4fZ0QrXGZfOoq7s0dBlcMb1CJBoI3_NHg_MCCYnq6f/s1600/100_1392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFttctvV_RktpugOakfLE7brDCeYrxQtTCY2jbOHAdfUW7OSpHMd22Cnq6RfAV46mxWBmvswxXuhN_h5QgQhoCQE1iDViYMdmFM4fZ0QrXGZfOoq7s0dBlcMb1CJBoI3_NHg_MCCYnq6f/s400/100_1392.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The concierge, he did not speak much.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The parking options looked bleak</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGs5ZW8YdazoLWQyzz6ZNLJeYjQuXxKuguW4ubzYoFVpBTDWk1L1HD65fsnW3BoCjNRMCIQw_6QsjAAYEbQrotj-ImXlDIDi7dH70jlQe5_4W7LiFmuP0eGAr5h7KTXc4zCjgPbTT7p-c/s1600/100_1388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGs5ZW8YdazoLWQyzz6ZNLJeYjQuXxKuguW4ubzYoFVpBTDWk1L1HD65fsnW3BoCjNRMCIQw_6QsjAAYEbQrotj-ImXlDIDi7dH70jlQe5_4W7LiFmuP0eGAr5h7KTXc4zCjgPbTT7p-c/s400/100_1388.JPG" width="400" /></a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuDHIORuQfjKteY80YonXzX-6r27vTGAdpaxRZS4VXp6EpZzSkJfnsz1QfV6XbNZLRVk4X-YdMRVWKVesLuJLyLczZO6v6bu1IamFftH3_SKyB7Tx3p-JazQKzQpGaKtTGqvDMqPT3huA/s1600/100_1397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuDHIORuQfjKteY80YonXzX-6r27vTGAdpaxRZS4VXp6EpZzSkJfnsz1QfV6XbNZLRVk4X-YdMRVWKVesLuJLyLczZO6v6bu1IamFftH3_SKyB7Tx3p-JazQKzQpGaKtTGqvDMqPT3huA/s400/100_1397.JPG" width="300" /></a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Would you leave your moto park outside in the dark?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After a long day on the road it was time to take off the gloves, hang up the keys and enjoy a beer I had been carrying in my saddle bag all day long. It was warm but it tasted fine, one of my favorites.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkqmyECc_8Jf3YTrpYc6MaZ5EgiQ4HoqBhrIEAMl6QCYvkU7P860yunA7RAZcpVTg-ZlFC3r011qf56QDmA9-T2lXjXbc5Uyrcfrj7MLR8IZBslpDUwY1gX8SYxWf-KXSmDPoAj6dave9/s1600/100_1393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkqmyECc_8Jf3YTrpYc6MaZ5EgiQ4HoqBhrIEAMl6QCYvkU7P860yunA7RAZcpVTg-ZlFC3r011qf56QDmA9-T2lXjXbc5Uyrcfrj7MLR8IZBslpDUwY1gX8SYxWf-KXSmDPoAj6dave9/s400/100_1393.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGhRH1JF9o7xdwW92B-ThM6CI1nTgDZMX33stnX46-6z5x24J89roPoQBunUPegt66jRaOrVhY8Z8YE-fvhgjs4kYjv8kexLvLnPpchFcxOF-8jVfJBKaF0hgOkKbZVIokJpbaInZST3PE/s1600/100_1402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGhRH1JF9o7xdwW92B-ThM6CI1nTgDZMX33stnX46-6z5x24J89roPoQBunUPegt66jRaOrVhY8Z8YE-fvhgjs4kYjv8kexLvLnPpchFcxOF-8jVfJBKaF0hgOkKbZVIokJpbaInZST3PE/s400/100_1402.JPG" width="300" /></a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Fortunately I woke and found out I still had a moto to ride home. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWm_3mNic36omIp9Oao5nPGYvGVnTk1DtmeQPq03qvDlBODWHy0znoq4V5k3hMV-GUEtLpB3l2g21n5xOMtg7WmlwkUusad-9WscvWuvJpWQR_PR1CFaVhoqL31BDpJ7MHT8CkxrjqwdH/s1600/100_1400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWm_3mNic36omIp9Oao5nPGYvGVnTk1DtmeQPq03qvDlBODWHy0znoq4V5k3hMV-GUEtLpB3l2g21n5xOMtg7WmlwkUusad-9WscvWuvJpWQR_PR1CFaVhoqL31BDpJ7MHT8CkxrjqwdH/s400/100_1400.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Unfortunately I woke up to this, wet and sleek roads.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Day 3</span></div>
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Salamanca, NY. to DC.</div>
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Mileage: 342</div>
<br /><iframe frameborder="0" height="350" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Salamanca,+NY&daddr=42.1355712,-78.653571+to:41.1334208,-78.7224841+to:41.062221,-78.497005+to:40.857641,-78.1602679+to:40.6738087,-78.1085711+to:39.9248043,-77.9381439+to:39.9216815,-77.7753116+to:39.9081548,-77.5526494+to:39.8961067,-77.3703563+to:39.7656459,-77.141032+to:39.4271455,-77.0087289+to:39.3110382,-76.9836866+to:39.27663,-76.9865543+to:39.2762696,-76.9865162+to:39.2145486,-76.9559143+to:Silver+Spring,+MD&geocode=FRFHgwIdaedO-yk_dIGxkYjSiTF7V0C4sd31PA%3BFRPwggIdfddP-ylNz-kBV33SiTGm3Vp3aHC1Sw%3BFWylcwIdTMpO-yl5uyiPmPbMiTEh-40BoMSBJg%3BFU2PcgIdEztS-ylr8o4D4lzMiTFdHEr9q6Yafg%3BFSlwbwIddV5X-ynrzDp7sxHMiTGWNXPzrod-Qg%3BFRCibAIdZShY-ymnhlYW_QfMiTE5wbaiePlDdA%3BFUQ0YQIdIcJa-ymxLJvH9ynKiTG8_zu1m2foGw%3BFREoYQIdMT5d-yn5bTAybIPJiTH1A0ngGjYSaA%3BFTrzYAId96Ng-yn7qU6726HJiTH9XY6auUuo9Q%3BFSrEYAIdDGxj-ynbw30WhKjJiTH8wctFjs4_GA%3BFY3GXgId2Otm-yk1Fo4NY1LIiTHtZOWfZ52CPQ%3BFUmcWQIdqPBo-yl5BmUPpzrIiTHI_6Av-Ze4tg%3BFb7WVwIdelJp-ylp89DsaibIiTFi1g-255Mi9g%3BFVZQVwIdRkdp-ylJgslwuCfIiTFo-UD0GO4-iw%3BFe1OVwIdbEdp-ynH4R6QuCfIiTH7zQ-7EfQaIg%3BFdRdVgId9r5p-ykvOLb19ti3iTFYjhkEAsBSTw%3BFUrzUgId2Kxo-ykn6WpmTs-3iTHfmrJlqDOEAA&aq=0&oq=sil&sll=39.215763,-76.878891&sspn=0.283551,0.606995&hl=en&mra=dvme&mrsp=14&sz=11&via=1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15&ie=UTF8&ll=39.215763,-76.878891&spn=0.283551,0.606995&t=m&output=embed" width="425"></iframe><br /><small><a href="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Salamanca,+NY&daddr=42.1355712,-78.653571+to:41.1334208,-78.7224841+to:41.062221,-78.497005+to:40.857641,-78.1602679+to:40.6738087,-78.1085711+to:39.9248043,-77.9381439+to:39.9216815,-77.7753116+to:39.9081548,-77.5526494+to:39.8961067,-77.3703563+to:39.7656459,-77.141032+to:39.4271455,-77.0087289+to:39.3110382,-76.9836866+to:39.27663,-76.9865543+to:39.2762696,-76.9865162+to:39.2145486,-76.9559143+to:Silver+Spring,+MD&geocode=FRFHgwIdaedO-yk_dIGxkYjSiTF7V0C4sd31PA%3BFRPwggIdfddP-ylNz-kBV33SiTGm3Vp3aHC1Sw%3BFWylcwIdTMpO-yl5uyiPmPbMiTEh-40BoMSBJg%3BFU2PcgIdEztS-ylr8o4D4lzMiTFdHEr9q6Yafg%3BFSlwbwIddV5X-ynrzDp7sxHMiTGWNXPzrod-Qg%3BFRCibAIdZShY-ymnhlYW_QfMiTE5wbaiePlDdA%3BFUQ0YQIdIcJa-ymxLJvH9ynKiTG8_zu1m2foGw%3BFREoYQIdMT5d-yn5bTAybIPJiTH1A0ngGjYSaA%3BFTrzYAId96Ng-yn7qU6726HJiTH9XY6auUuo9Q%3BFSrEYAIdDGxj-ynbw30WhKjJiTH8wctFjs4_GA%3BFY3GXgId2Otm-yk1Fo4NY1LIiTHtZOWfZ52CPQ%3BFUmcWQIdqPBo-yl5BmUPpzrIiTHI_6Av-Ze4tg%3BFb7WVwIdelJp-ylp89DsaibIiTFi1g-255Mi9g%3BFVZQVwIdRkdp-ylJgslwuCfIiTFo-UD0GO4-iw%3BFe1OVwIdbEdp-ynH4R6QuCfIiTH7zQ-7EfQaIg%3BFdRdVgId9r5p-ykvOLb19ti3iTFYjhkEAsBSTw%3BFUrzUgId2Kxo-ykn6WpmTs-3iTHfmrJlqDOEAA&aq=0&oq=sil&sll=39.215763,-76.878891&sspn=0.283551,0.606995&hl=en&mra=dvme&mrsp=14&sz=11&via=1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15&ie=UTF8&ll=39.215763,-76.878891&spn=0.283551,0.606995&t=m" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small>
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Today started like most days when I tour: cloudy, cool and wet. I am unable to wait for the weather to change to favorable conditions, this is what I have been training for: Sport-touring incidentals. I reluctantly geared and loaded up and got on the road. For the first hour I rode in what can be described as steady, relentless drizzle. I am heading southbound SR 219, the speed limit calls for variable speeds, the rain is persistent. For dozens of miles I am the only one on the road, the only moto on the road!!</div>
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I am perplexed at first, but after a few miles I begun to embrace it. Here I am in a place and time I’ve been searching for, except it is under less than ideal weather conditions. My gear is doing its job and I am dry and comfortable. It is all coming together, the weather, the road, the variables are manageable, until… a flock of cages catches up and they disrupt my <i>flow. </i>I am surfing up the wet road, as I begun to climb the passing lane is about end, it is a magnificent half mile left sweeping turn. As I near the top and lean my rear tire catches the white stripe and looses traction! It slides just enough to cause a huge concern, it bucks and regains traction and I ride on… that was a reality check. </div>
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The rain continues and so do I. Because the weather forecast calls for rain I decided to retraced my original route, and eliminate a variable. The calculated risk pays off and soon after the weather clears all is well. I have passed the halfway point on this tour and my body is now revolting against the mind. After hundreds of miles the right side kneepad is compressing my kneecap and causing an excruciating pain, like a rod through the kneecap, and my kidney area feels as if I have a hot iron pressed against it, I am in pain and I know it. Can I hang on? And is this merely a mental issue? I realized I have set my sleeping bag high on a perch on the bike and this forces an uncomfortable mount and dismount resetting the knee pad on a undesired spot, problem one solved, but what about my back? </div>
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With only 35 miles to go I had to pull over my back feels like hot dominos ready to collapse, my reaction time for shifting and braking have decreased, two variables are back. It is hot and humid and I am fatigued but at least I know the path and can pace myself. No one ever said sport touring on a 250 was a glamorous sport, otherwise everyone would be touring. I stopped, refocused, breathed, assessed and committed to the last phase of this ride. I am going home now.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnBqnHRikkCKGAXVYZCl9SbrZUnxheHZ_6RU860ndRA7EjUImcfx3Po31C2jEENpLChkz0fuDOPr2A5UtPWDsXZZhcLzHzFIoha35Wmn1hSELq8V1mGWIbRl9Gwg0_4uh1LKWPKFw2jZh/s1600/100_1409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnBqnHRikkCKGAXVYZCl9SbrZUnxheHZ_6RU860ndRA7EjUImcfx3Po31C2jEENpLChkz0fuDOPr2A5UtPWDsXZZhcLzHzFIoha35Wmn1hSELq8V1mGWIbRl9Gwg0_4uh1LKWPKFw2jZh/s400/100_1409.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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There were twisties abound, with welcome signs such as this one.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8IFL9gKGZFN9j38o42nkeTssyqKQhc1qwMj1xp4yZ9vu-ki4gRLpkjILaXt-509lUFuQ9NuCTQPlxwNzRLLSa5ravjdHLVeFyUYnBkgQGg73YEVF14hqQv-UaukO9wyhfiZaotAhMZKF/s1600/100_1406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8IFL9gKGZFN9j38o42nkeTssyqKQhc1qwMj1xp4yZ9vu-ki4gRLpkjILaXt-509lUFuQ9NuCTQPlxwNzRLLSa5ravjdHLVeFyUYnBkgQGg73YEVF14hqQv-UaukO9wyhfiZaotAhMZKF/s400/100_1406.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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More sweet tarmac.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWjXU2wHC2Dc3XLlyEdYWgAfptyu2KqIbfJlhOF36nfX4ROiavAMc1aTswWn5lGIQlu86pF5LbrSZ_SE_xRhBHJSZfkqcnDugAAAqGEVz9uBItXeByqzLOIG2oZD5vut0KTHLRnTC7dvi/s1600/100_1404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWjXU2wHC2Dc3XLlyEdYWgAfptyu2KqIbfJlhOF36nfX4ROiavAMc1aTswWn5lGIQlu86pF5LbrSZ_SE_xRhBHJSZfkqcnDugAAAqGEVz9uBItXeByqzLOIG2oZD5vut0KTHLRnTC7dvi/s400/100_1404.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The 250 resting and enjoying the fresh air and quiet.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbvGo7zJo3c2R8ARwP5CzUZNlbPelMWPeah0Eg_U5jUk9QsFSU2-S5AjH17KxVoLbMQBDfe03bDmXy-OFHVL8m0IwkoXph-Ff6xDN1j7NvLVHJj3JLCujM2UvVf9OuATRDF8OVm62s57Y/s1600/100_1413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbvGo7zJo3c2R8ARwP5CzUZNlbPelMWPeah0Eg_U5jUk9QsFSU2-S5AjH17KxVoLbMQBDfe03bDmXy-OFHVL8m0IwkoXph-Ff6xDN1j7NvLVHJj3JLCujM2UvVf9OuATRDF8OVm62s57Y/s400/100_1413.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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On the way home I stopped for some refreshments.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWDXkurLfIJpShRwxt2n9_Ot_WO1I5MSPPyISXrmJziWAEYAN7zcSr5Y7to-Ld1UanBGksN2kIzJTfT5WNtTrrou4ja5rkClo1m4c9pTUzxW0apP7AgwPIkhYoorGuppuciqsL0j42L3W/s1600/100_1414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWDXkurLfIJpShRwxt2n9_Ot_WO1I5MSPPyISXrmJziWAEYAN7zcSr5Y7to-Ld1UanBGksN2kIzJTfT5WNtTrrou4ja5rkClo1m4c9pTUzxW0apP7AgwPIkhYoorGuppuciqsL0j42L3W/s400/100_1414.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Behold a rare specie seldom seen in the wild a CBR250 sport tourer and next to it an ubiquitous Hog.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxmtrL7sQTKC9lXCYXp2e8b-SkaJmsPJuuqq0WVqwv0d-0n5T6kd-a51BCMtjNUOhK4HZVgohUVp0Dx8uAXvJpENqG0fstc47IUj2YeTVE93NDc3aTbchaNwWbK6c2te0ZBkYX6xzbNr7/s1600/100_1415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxmtrL7sQTKC9lXCYXp2e8b-SkaJmsPJuuqq0WVqwv0d-0n5T6kd-a51BCMtjNUOhK4HZVgohUVp0Dx8uAXvJpENqG0fstc47IUj2YeTVE93NDc3aTbchaNwWbK6c2te0ZBkYX6xzbNr7/s400/100_1415.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Just 35 more miles, I think I can, I think I can...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9caqQFC67CL-DRbGok1An5EXTN3SamMXCLrYwp039E6OyXjzwNPM78ItQ3kdJ9Q-E3pm9rVqyNbx3RFkf_jIgZgrNUIhrNkkwNehfWTwXC0-Up60-pFylGzxGN4L4wT1mUzCqzxguLxx/s1600/100_1418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9caqQFC67CL-DRbGok1An5EXTN3SamMXCLrYwp039E6OyXjzwNPM78ItQ3kdJ9Q-E3pm9rVqyNbx3RFkf_jIgZgrNUIhrNkkwNehfWTwXC0-Up60-pFylGzxGN4L4wT1mUzCqzxguLxx/s400/100_1418.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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I finally made it home and was greeted by two members of my pack: Master Chief (foreground) and MotoToot.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJgcj5Lpq328TPvUHOn9JN_V0bOYZUX_op7xfU6X7Jp99AjL64cRTbh7WbDJo-uNV5BCvpjOrGfdjhxzKryWyJ2XuWmpWUlxxMnM3hcfmHvYcuu4AopCdUNKdf7G9CLSKy8gLJ_nORZaT7/s1600/100_1424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJgcj5Lpq328TPvUHOn9JN_V0bOYZUX_op7xfU6X7Jp99AjL64cRTbh7WbDJo-uNV5BCvpjOrGfdjhxzKryWyJ2XuWmpWUlxxMnM3hcfmHvYcuu4AopCdUNKdf7G9CLSKy8gLJ_nORZaT7/s400/100_1424.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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A couple of souvenirs.</div>
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And you may ask, what about the Falls? I hear they are amazing, I have yet to see them. A non moto-enthusiast may think this is utterly absurd all those miles all that time on the road and yet one misses the magnificent Falls. That is one reality. In the span of 870 miles, I fed my soul scenic vistas, met nice people and made new friends, surfed simple yet awesome roads, I breathed the clean air, and replenished my outlook. </div>
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In that span of time I briefly found the realm I seek. I am a Tarmac Surfer and this is my reality, exponentially beautiful reality.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7BY5WqQDaDKhcgnXg1tvg6wmBXg74GNGOJltxIMwideKby359wYlaAmAPU3zfdqjoMlRyVG3kQztKoil0IcJeHnPMeThR0uuiw1CEbJzOAJ4juaKGj60bPWXj93tkWh5ygRSvjRtWTdX/s1600/100_1405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7BY5WqQDaDKhcgnXg1tvg6wmBXg74GNGOJltxIMwideKby359wYlaAmAPU3zfdqjoMlRyVG3kQztKoil0IcJeHnPMeThR0uuiw1CEbJzOAJ4juaKGj60bPWXj93tkWh5ygRSvjRtWTdX/s400/100_1405.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a></div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-14878367739806880832013-07-07T20:54:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.350-04:00Sport touring: Training runs… a prelude to the beautiful unknown. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I woke up this morning determine
to ride. It’s Saturday, time 0530, the weather calls for a toasty day hovering
around 90F/32C and humid. What’s a surfer to do but roll out bed early, gear up
and let it roll.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has been a few
weeks since I’ve been able to surf and am bugging out, must find smooth
tarmac….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Sport touring can be a physical
endeavor (specially when riding a 250) and like many other sports the rider
could benefit from some form of training and mental preparation, except a how
to manual does not exist or does it? Regardless, sometimes is more fun to use
one’s own creativity to undertake such challenges. So I asked myself how can I
prepare to ride 300+ miles/482 km a day in what can feel like sitting in a wind tunnel
under rain or high heat while taking the occasional jab to the face? [Go ahead
ponder].</div>
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A clear solution evades my mental
grasp thus I improvise and adapt. My current self-designed unofficial sport
touring training program may include:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>running in 90 degree weather,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>+- 100 mile rides follow by more running in the heat, some weight
training, a few thousand meters on the rowing machine and more running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But does it work you ask? There is only
one way to find out. <br />
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Surfing Northern Maryland's state roads</div>
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One of these days I know I will
find myself far from all that is familiar on a beautiful two lane road maybe
facing down the continental divide (or insert own place), after a long hard day
of riding under less than ideal weather conditions, fatigue yet determine. In
a time and place void of everyday irrelevant complexities, where human and
machine must function in unison. A situation that will highlight the most
fundamental aspects of one’s existence, where the main currencies are fortitude
and humility. Fortitude to accept a challenge from an environment that demands
humility for it is greater than self, that is reality exponentially beautiful
reality.<br />
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A Tarmac Surfer's self portrait</div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-83342464170705379712013-06-02T00:56:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:56.145-04:00Sport touring: The CBR250R… the ideal imperfect moto?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A few years ago I was part of a rowing team, we were a bunch of rag tag athletes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early one morning during one of our land drills, the coach
said to me “hey what’s wrong with you (as I was steadily climbing a hill) are
you hurt or something?” To which I answered, no nothing is wrong this is my pace;
steady and consistent (I can go on for miles at this rate). This is what I do
best.</div>
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This year is my third season on
the 250 and it has been for the most part a fun adventure full of excitement,
thrills and reality checks. I have ridden this moto around my neighborhood and
afar, distances it was probably never intended to cover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I first purchased this moto I intended
to make it my all around moto and that’s exactly what I have done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Except at times I have wondered, what
if (fill in the blank)?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This past
week I considered letting go of my 250 and starting a new moto adventure on a
different steed, I did the usual and posted a for sale ad on the net and waited
and then I reconsidered and decided that the 250 must stay a while longer. </div>
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Maybe I am a sentimentalist, or
simply human after all. But after looking at my moto and reminiscing all the
cool roads and places I’ve visited it became clear that there are many more adventures
in our future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many will gladly
offer their opinions about the 250, what it is good for, what it can and can’t
do and where you should ride it, etc. The arguments and opinions are endless.
Anyone can fault anyone and anything for the sheer joy of hearing their own
voice. I will refrain from making any claims that the 250 is the perfect moto,
but what I do know is that there is nothing wrong with it. It is simply a
matter of asking it to do what it does best, tarmac surf at variable rates of
speed.</div>
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The open road is calling and is
enticing one to follow its seductive, undulating curves… it is time to answer it
and Enjoy the Ride. </div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-14092058195693099222013-03-31T19:02:00.000-04:002019-09-26T19:41:55.331-04:00 Sport-touring: A catapult into spring… riding forward<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">It’s
late March on a Friday, I’ve just finished cranking out a few miles on the
rat-mill, endorphins are flowing and the weather is cool with just the right
wind speed to encourage one to set out on a moto ride. Who could resist? Not
I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such is the seductive power of
smooth tarmac coupled with moto bliss conducive-weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spring is officially here and with it
for most riders another official moto-season and another year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The
250R (aka Scully) has been inspected: fluids, tires and all systems are “go”.
It is time to let it do what it does best, let it run just like the
unselfconscious child most of us once were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twenty-thirteen is here and it is demanding to be
experienced not simply plow through, and sport touring is just the means to
facilitate such endeavor. My U.S. map still hangs on the wall providing
inspiration whenever needed it; the list of destinations is ambitions, as any
worthy endeavor ought to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Last
year was an eventful one, full of fun rides, exciting adventures and one that
saw the final departure of close friends, a catalyst for the present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Louie Zamperini once said; “ Life is
about experiencing all the things you find interesting and fascinating…
participate in life”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find sport
touring fascinating and I intend on participating. What are you waiting for? Go
out there and experience reality, exponentially beautiful reality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092944289512178645.post-57198604536293492972013-01-25T14:59:00.000-05:002019-09-26T19:41:55.877-04:00Sport Touring: Common uncertainty…elusive perfection.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif';">It’s early January and around the North East (U.S.) most motos are hibernating in their respective underground dens or garages, with not much else going on I have been looking forward to what has now become (by default) a yearly tradition: The International Moto Show. It’s early Saturday morning; I rolled out bed and on my way to downtown D.C. for my third annual pilgrimage via Metro Rail. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif';">The Show has become a predictable event with the usual vendors and manufactures on hand, attempting to seduce you with their latest products, a conglomerate of exquisitely shaped metal on wheels, beautiful indeed. This past season was my second season with the 250R, and I must admit I have considered the options of what if I upgraded to (fill in the blank)?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif';">Similarly to most other aspects of quotidian affairs moto enthusiasts tend to continuously assess their moto aspirations, and the Moto Show is one of the best places to reaffirm or challenge your moto selections, and I am far from immune to such whimsical affairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a strong aversion to large crowds (and bullshit) and usually it only takes less than a couple of hours for me to scan, walk and assess the latest offerings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year I walked away really impressed with Honda’s latest offering the new CBR500R, in bright red with ABS of course. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">source: </span><a href="http://www.motorcycleusa.com/"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">www.motorcycleusa.com</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif';">It fulfills the 250R’s main shortcoming (at least for my purposes), added horsepower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When you find yourself Tarmac Surfing on the super slab trying to pass a big rig and there is nothing left on reserve, it is an uneasy feeling. Thus I have considered the alternatives. As I mentioned in previous posts I am a big fan of BMW motos. Fast. Precise. Inspiring, except I am unwilling and unable to absorb the exorbitant price tag. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif';">The CBR500R, on the other hand seems within reach of mere mortals with limited resources, definite bank accounts and everyday constraints, Me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After ten years of being absent from the sport, common sense dictates that I should be content with my current status and cease to lust after new machinery. But human nature demands that one must continue to question and search for what one considers being, the next best perfect (blank). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif';">I am aware of this fact, yet my unconscious self contradicts every logical thought and surrenders to a primal desire that propels one forward, forward momentum must be maintained figuratively and literally. Existence for most of us on this blue sphere is void of any type of guarantees, the bright fiery star on the horizon will set and rise each day whether one will be there to witness it, is… well uncertain. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif';"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif';">There is only one thing I know when I set out on a tour, and that is I want to Surf, for as long as I am able to claim this privilege.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If one’s existence is limited than time should be exploited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At higher speeds and revolutions there is not time for hesitation of doubts, there is only time to simply be <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WC5FdFlUcl0">Be Yourself</a>. Some have asked what is the best bike?, where are the best roads to ride? This is something I’m unable to answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif';">After meandering through the aisles of a moto show and surfing the super slabs of the U.S. it is unknown whether the perfect moto and ride exist. What I do know is that every tour has and will be filled with common uncertainty and elusive perfection. This is reality, exponentially beautiful reality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Fredo- Tarmac Surfer Extraordinairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076445803771361393noreply@blogger.com3