Riding motorcycles is a passion of mine. I’ve returned to motorcycling after a lengthy hiatus. Okay, it’s been a very long time, but, during that time I was always aware of my desire to ride again. So, about seven years ago, I bought my first motorcycle since Nissan was called Datsun. I wasn’t prepared for the massive power increase between the 1975 Triumph Tiger Daytona I had first ridden, but didn’t own and my new sport touring motorcycle. That 1975 machine, which I thought was awesomely fast at the time, put out a mere 41 horsepower. My present motorcycle puts out 142 horsepower, reaches 260 kph, and goes from 0 to 100 mph in 2.7 seconds, completing the quarter mile in 10.6 seconds, leaving grey matter in its wake.
You see, I was banned from owning a motorcycle when I was less than 18 years old as my father’s family had raced motorcycles. Needless to say, I had to try it, didn’t I? I mean what manner of stalwart youth would be unable to jump onto a hot two-cylinder engine covered with a tank of explosive gasoline, and place it between his legs while attempting to determine if the contraption could exceed 100 mph, whilst never having ridden one before, or received a single lesson?
At the time, I believed I was going to be a fighter pilot for the Canadian Air Force, so it seemed just shy of cowardly to not determine the maximum speed of a mere earthbound contraption on two wheels. Well, all’s well that ends well, and it did that time. About a year later, I lost control of another motorcycle, and my father, upon arriving at the hospital and examining my various array of injuries stated unequivocally, “That didn’t happen in a car, did it?”
Road rash has a particular look to it you see. I was unable to hide the obvious missing tissues or ascertain how such an injury might have occurred whilst driving my 1956 Chevy, which was not in my possession at the time of the said injury in question. More painful was paying for the damage to the motorcycle whilst losing access to my vehicle, as the owner of the motorcycle claimed its use until his machine was duly repaired. Another lesson learned.
My foray into the world of motorcycling has taken me through four iterations of machinery since I purchased my first bike in fifty years. All have been sport touring motorcycles, and my love for motorcycling has not diminished, even though I’ve suffered two accidents, both of which were not my fault. This blog will, once spring arrives, include articles specifically related to the alchemy that exists between motorcycling, photography, and videography. It will likely involve travel throughout the western United States and Canada, finding remote locations in the mountains and wilderness where photographing the timeless beauty of mountains, valleys, lakes, and streams, never gets old, unlike the author.
Some of the photos on this site are from my previous trips. I will, unfortunately, not likely be able to scale the same landscapes with as much agility and speed as I’ve done in the past, since I suffered a rather bad compound fracture of my right leg at the knee in April of this year. My aim, however, is to ignore to the greatest degree possible any limitations due to the foot-long plate and screws that are permanently attached to my personage, and which create an indelible sensation upon each step taken.
I’ll also provide, beyond the photographic and video evidence, a record of the places visited, which were worth noting, what was not, the quality of the road and accommodations as well as the points of interest of note along the way. Whether a rider or a more sedate traveler, I hope the experience will be noteworthy and the commentary of interest.
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Ciao.
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