Bucket List trip to Laguna Seca with Dad

Lets set the wayback machine for 2010. I was a new rider and was avidly reading motorcycle forums looking for items of interest to my new obsession. One trip report stood out above all the rest though and the idea took hold like a cancer; a story of a group of friends riding sportbikes through many of the destination highways in the NorthWest on the way to MotoGP in Laguna Seca.

Every year I had a different excuse, no time off from work, my bike wasn't reliable enough, or other obligations. This year though everything fell into place and when my friends asked me if I wanted to go I said an emphatic "yes!". MotoGP doesn't come to Laguna Seca anymore, but World SuperBike and MotoAmerica fill that gap. Early in the year I booked the motel and bought the tickets along with purchasing a beautiful leftover 2014 Honda Interceptor Deluxe. For months I poured over different possible routes to choose the best highways that Northern California has to offer.

Basically the plan was to leave after work Tuesday the 5th and slab it down to southern Oregon to meet my dad (2014 FJR1300). Wednesday the 6th we would slab down to Highway 89 and ride through Lassen Park, then into Red Bluff for the night. Thursday the 7th we planned to ride Ca-36 to the coast, then down the coast to Windsor for the night. Friday we would get the photo OP at the Golden Gate Bridge, ride Ca-84, eat at Alice's Restaurant, and ride the rest of the way to Salinas near Mazda Raceway where we would stay for the weekend.

My slab ride down was uneventful as always, barely making it through the mountains with light left in the sky. I arrived at my parents house, did chain maintenance, and went to bed.

Pictured: Dad and I with our expensive hats, and the motorcycles that came with them.

Wednesday morning my Mom rode with us out to our first fuel stop on her Kawasaki Vulcan 500, we all said our goodbyes and departed. This was the first trip we had taken using Sena headsets, and we spent most of the first day getting to know the technology. Unfortunately my helmet is too noisy to comfortably wear without earplugs, but with earplugs in I can't hear the Sena. A Catch-22 that gave me problems throughout the trip.

Through Weed California we encountered our first road construction delay. While waiting in the heat on hot bikes we remembered that California allows lane splitting. Thus we lane split for the first time in California until we were past the construction zone and once again rode in freedom from the crowd. By Mt Shasta city we were Beary Hungry and stopped for lunch at the Black Bear Diner.

Highway 89 out towards Lassen is a pretty mountain highway, more curvy than twisty, and often more straight than curvy. The views are great though. We hit our second bout of road construction half an hour into the ride, but due to my constant passing of other vehicles we were at the front of the line of traffic that got stopped, and got to wait in the shade while talking with the flagger about the local area.

Near Lassen we visited a Vista Point that offered a lackluster Vista due to the trees. But it was a good opportunity to drink water and stretch.

Lassen park itself sits on Highway 89 and 44. To ride 89 all the way through the park requires that you pay $15 for a motorcycle pass although Dad got in for free as a senior.

Was $15 worth it? Absolutely. The road through Lassen was fun and twisty, and I got to take pictures like this.

and this

Below the summit there's a nice little meadow with a stream running through it. While trying to take a good picture of the meadow a couple from Colorado with a Ural and sidecar in their trailer stopped and talked to my Dad. You meet the nicest people on a Honda.

Highway 89 is definitely worth riding. It climbs all the way to 8000 feet, where there's a trailhead to climb the rest of the way to the peak, then descends past a beautiful blue glacier lake and into the forest. We continued onto Highway 36 towards Red Bluff. This section of highway is fast, curvy, and fun. As we dropped into the valley the temperatures rose from a chilly 55 at the peak gradually towards 90 and I was thankful for my mesh jacket.

After getting slightly lost, then completely failing at getting my phone to talk to my Sena headset to guide me, we found our Hotel and checked in. I chugged the bottle of water they gave me at the check in counter, then they told us we could park our bikes right outside the main lobby under the carport overhang.

We got some pretty decent Mexican food, drank way too much Dos Equis Amber, then went to bed. The next morning we talked to a Canadian gentleman with a Sprint ST who like us was on his way to Highway 36 and on to Laguna Seca. You meet the nicest people on a Honda.

There's a sign at the entrance to Highway 36 that most riders should have seen at one point or another. It advises curvy roads for the next 140 miles, countless sportbike riders have posed with it over the years. Dad and I wanted to get the photo-op there, but its gone. CalTrans put up a new boring text only sign a few yards ahead of where it was and removed it. I even made Dad follow me on a side trip on the way home to hunt for the sign, but its gone.

Photo Op aside Highway 36 to the coast lives up to all the hype. This was the piece de resistance of the trip. Ca-36 is the kind of road that defines sport riding. The beginning on the east side starts with some basic back and forth 35-45mph marked corners then turns into a roller coaster of up and down side to side as you enter the rolling hills. Farther on the road starts climbing into the mountains and you get to do some serious canyon carving.

Along the top of the mountains is a beautiful section of S corners that seems to last forever before the road descends down to the junction with highway 3. Further along the road follows a river before climbing into the coastal range. Just past Mad River CalTrans has repaved the road, but didn't see fit to paint a center stripe yet. Going through the corners and through the up and down I had to stick to the fog lane, as oncoming trucks with trailers were taking up the whole lane. The section through the coastal range is in bad shape and was a bit tiring to ride. While waiting for Dad near the end I talked with a gentleman from Canada on a Star cruiser about routes and which roads we had gone through. You meet the nicest people on a Honda.

After Bridgeville the road is still fun but the traffic picks up from all the camp sites in the area. If I was planning to do an out and back from Red Bluff, I would probably turn around here and head back. Regarding gasoline availability and the mythic "gas gap" on 36, I'm pleased to say it isn't so. Gas is available at Mad River, Platina, and maybe some of the other little towns along the way, just remember to bring a bottle of octane booster if your bike needs it. Personally the Interceptor gets great mileage (even at a sporty pace), can drink regular if need be, and has a 5.2 gallon tank.

After 36, 101 was slow and crowded. There were quite a few RVs and other traffic. We ran across more road construction and had to go bumper to bumper, as there wasn't enough room to split lanes. Towards wine country traffic picked up and congealed, our last hour on the road was fairly miserable dealing with rush hour and trying to find our hotel. The temperature had come up quite a bit from the Fortuna area and we shed layers. Once again the people at Holiday Inn Express gave us premium parking spots, this time in their secure parking structure.

The intent of the next morning was to get a Photo Op at the Golden Gate Bridge. The commute down 101 during rush hour traffic was a harrowing combination of 80+ mph and bumper to bumper rush hour traffic.  Make no mistake, I've dragged knee at near 100mph with nothing between me and the ground but 3mm of leather and thermoplastic, but this was scarier. After getting lost once we found the viewpoint and discovered the whole bay was locked in with fog.

Following the direction my phone was relaying through my headset I got lost just past the bridge because I doubted the GPS directing me to get off 101 South, then get onto 101 North. As it turns out you have to take a circuitous route off/on/off the highway, then follow surface streets all the way through the city to get to a freeway. I've had enough of San Francisco for a lifetime and I only spent an hour driving through it. After the crush of surface streets the wide open 280 Freeway was a welcome relief. Traffic was moving freely out of the city and in a short time we arrived at CA-84.

La Honda road starts out slow, stop and go through a small town, then it climbs the hill which would be really fun had we not been trapped behind a handful of slow trucks. The road come to a fork where you'll find Alice's Restaurant (not THE Alice's, but named after it). The parking lot was fairly full of nice bikes, many loaded with luggage presumably for the trip to Laguna Seca.

Talking to the waitress at Alice's we learned that on a typical weekend, the entire parking area and most of the shoulders around Alice's are packed with bikes. Keeping with my motto of "You meet the nicest people on a Honda" I talked to some of the other riders and swapped route information.

Ca-84 to the coast from Alice's is a fun road, unfortunately I was stuck in traffic for most of it. By the time I broke free it was only a few miles to the coast. This time we were on Highway 1 down into Santa Cruz. After Santa Cruz we had to lane split for about ten miles to clear the traffic jam. With me in the lead and a group of Harleys from Georgia in the tail we ran down the canyon of moving steel. Like Luke Skywalker said about the Death Star trench "it'll be just like beggar's canyon back home". Dad has said that getting to lane split was one of the highlights of the trip. I put it a different way, its great that we could lane split, its awful that we had to.

In an effort to avoid the traffic delays ahead that my maps application indicated, we cut over on 152 towards Gilroy. The road was fun up to the top of the hill, then we hit a construction delay and lost the time we would have gained just going through the delay on 1. By the time we got to Gilroy it was rush hour and Highway 101 was stop and go. Frustrated and hot we split lanes once more towards Salinas. The traffic was intermittently bad the whole way and we arrived in the late evening.

Fortunately our reservation was solid and check in was easy. Looking around the parking lot I saw quite a few sport and sport touring bikes, probably all here for the races. After dinner Dad set about finding people to talk to among the race crowd and I played cards with my friends from Southern Oregon who had caged down, Travis and Ashleigh.

Saturday, my first day at Laguna Seca, I rode with my friends Travis and Ashleigh to the track. Dad was going to go exploring instead of watching the races with me.

The racing wasn't due to start until 2:30pm. The morning had various warm up and practice runs going though to break the silence. The Mazda Raceway infield is full of vendors and activities to while away the time and separate you from your cash. Victory, Suzuki, Yamaha, Honda, and Ducati have a full factory presence with all their latest bikes. Ducati island stands apart as the pinnacle of high priced L-Twin red performance, although due to the drought it isn't much of an island.

Things to do in between races: buy souvenirs, eat/drink, drive a Land Rover over some obstacles, drive a VR Mazda racecar at the Mazda venue, pose on the lean demo bike, ride a VR motorcycle at the Tissot venue, go see all the race winning bikes that are displayed around the infield, see how many free samples of El Jefe Tequila you can get, talk to the CHP, go to the paddock and try to "run into" racers, race go karts, watch the stunt show, watch the mini-moto kids exhibition, and feed the geese.

At the TOBC Racing trailer a little blond girl came out and gave us tote bags and stickers. She then told us that if we wanted autographs from her dad he would be back after racing. This was one of those moments where you remember that entire families work and travel with the racers to help support them. 

After the stunt show the kids from the M1Mini GP showed off their skills running drills around cones.

Wait a second, did I come here for the motorcycle carnival or for racing?

The first race of Saturday was the WSBK race at 2:30pm. My friends and I decided to watch from the grandstands. Before the race there was a performance by a Brazillian samba dance troupe, presentation of colors and singing of the national anthem, then we got down to business.

Unfortunately for shooting photos we were protected by several fences. The race was exciting and loud. From the grandstands we could watch the whole race via the jumbotron, instead of just the few seconds every two minutes when racers were passing by our sector. The two factory Ducatis crashed out and American Nicky Hayden secured a spot on the podium.

This superfan was seated in front of me:

After the race we hung around the Honda pavilion waiting for Nicky and Michael Vandermark for the autograph session. As the line gradually formed and the Honda employees put out ropes to direct the line I had one of those "you meet the nicest people on a Honda" moments. It struck me that I was having conversations with the people all around me as if they were long lost friends. Everyone there was there for the same reason, we're all race fans, we're mostly all riders, we have so much in common we just automatically clicked. One of the women in line had no problem giving me her email address so I could send her pics I had snapped of her and the Honda racers, even though she had just met me an hour earlier.

My friend Travis got a toy of Nicky's 2006 MotoGP winning bike signed, Ashleigh got a framed poster of Nicky's 2016 Sepang Race 2 win signed, and I got a flag of the Hayden brothers signed.

The last race of the day was the KTM RC390 MotoAmerica race. The bikes were slower, but the battles into turns were more vicious. It makes me want one for the track. The racers in the 390 cup are all late teenagers, the future of racing from all over the globe.

That night we got back to the motel and collapsed from exhaustion. I went with Dad to the diner next to the motel for dinner, then went to bed after talking bikes with some random people we met in the parking lot. You meet the nicest people on a Honda. This was a scene that played itself out again and again throughout our travels, we would meet some people and talk about bikes, where we've been, where we're going, and other motorcycle nonsense.

Dad's exploration of the area had been fruitless, revealing more bad traffic than fun roads and interesting views. He had however interacted with the people at the motel with a Tour group from Israel. Apparently he'd taken a picture of a middle aged woman on his bike for her friends back home, much to the chagrin of her husband.

Sunday at the races I rode instead of caging with my friends. I arrived early and was able to park my bike under a tree.

Bike Parking

The racing on Sunday started early at 9:30am. I watched the MotoAmerica 600CC SuperSport/SuperStock races from the Andretti hairpin. After the first race we amused ourselves souvenir hunting and watching practice laps. 

Between races I walked to the CHP booth to ask a very important question of the officers. I went in and said "I'm from Oregon, so please excuse the dumb question. What is the proper way to lane split in California?" The officer didn't want to come straight out and say it, but I weasiled out of him that there isn't a law codifying it yet, so as long as you aren't breaking other laws while doing it, you can do it. He said that they aren't allowed to publish their lane splitting tip sheet online anymore due to a lawsuit, but he happily gave me a printout on the subject. I thanked him for his time and left.

It occurred to me throughout the weekend that watching racing in person is a totally different experience from watching it on TV or a stream on the internet. When watching from the comfort of my home I miss out on the experience of everything else the track and venue have to offer but I get to see the entire race; every corner, every pass, and every overtake. In person you get to watch one straightaway and one corner at a time, so you have downtime for a minute or two after the bikes pass until they make it around the corner again.

The WSBK race in the afternoon went as expected with Kawasaki and Ducati leading, Honda picking up fourth and fifth places.

After the WSBK race I elected to leave. I needed to get north and wanted to avoid as much traffic as possible. Leaving Laguna Seca I was amazed at the orderly traffic direction by the Sheriffs who had stopped traffic on Highway 68 next to the exit so that the flood of bikes could all exit onto the highway in both directions. The ride out of Salinas went smoothly with only a slight traffic slowdown. I cut over at Highway 156 towards Hollister to get over to I-5 quicker which turned out to be a mistake. Traffic slowed to a crawl near Hollister due to a badly placed stoplight in the middle of nowhere. This was another opportunity to lane split or cook in my gear. Past that it was bumper to bumper at freeway speeds all the way to the interstate. 

At the In N Out at Santa Nella I had a few of those "you meet the nicest people on a Honda" moments. As I was waiting for my food a gentleman from Portland introduced himself and sat down next to me. He had been at the races as well and in fact rode the same bike as my dad. We talked about the races and bikes while eating an early dinner. I saw other people wearing Laguna Seca merch and motorcycle paraphernalia come and go during dinner, and I got a "I know we're both enthusiasts" nod from a woman wearing Kawasaki gear.

From Santa Nella it was a fast straight shot up the freeway past Stockton, Sacremento, and nowhere to get to Williams where my Dad had already checked into our Hotel. Once again we were given covered parking spots next to the lobby. There were a few other bikes in the parking lot but I didn't find the owners. Dad had talked briefly to a man with a CBR1000RR in a van who was going to Thunderhill the next day. We turned in early.

The next morning we battled a headwind up I-5 to Red Bluff to hunt the sign that isn't there, then continued on to Redding and out 299. There we hit the worst of the road construction of the whole trip. CalTrans has ripped up the entire road going up Buckhorn grade to straighten (boo) and widen (yay) it. We had to ride uphill the whole grade on dirt/gravel/shale. My bike is not made for that, it was miserable. The downhill was fine and I made haste out to Weaverville. 299 is a fast and curvy road, I love it when I'm not stuck behind someone.

At lunch we talked with a trio of Canadian gentlemen that were riding the same direction as us. You know what I'm about to say. You meet the nicest people on a Honda.

According to CalTrans we were supposed to be in for a five mile single lane stretch of highway that washed out during the winter. For once the report was wrong and it had already been repaired. I had a nearly clear ride all the way out Highway 3. Near Weaverville 3 is all up and down, side to side, with a fair amount of tar snakes preventing full speed, it is fun nonetheless. Past Trinity Center the highway is miles of wide open sweepers through the valley, crossing the Trinity river occasionally. The sweepers give way to tight corners as you start climbing Scott Mountain. The climb up Scott mountain has a lot of tight switchbacks, but the pavement is in good shape and you can really dig into the corners.

In November of 2014 I took a photo of my CBR near the top of Scott mountain.

I made it my mission to re-create the photo with the Interceptor.

That'll do nicely. While at the photo spot, my dad caught up and I got some action shots of him going around the corner.

The descent down the North side of Scott Mountain is in bad shape. Once at the bottom you ride into the town of Callahan then a lot of nothing through farmland. The road is in good shape and curvy. After Fort Jones 3 climbs into the hills for one last canyon carving session before leading into Yreka.

That's where the interesting part of the ride ends. We slabbed it through the pass back into Oregon, I said goodbye to Dad in Ashland and raced as fast as reasonable on public roads to get home via the slab. After California, Oregon drivers seem incredibly slow. The left lane campers blocking passing are my pet peeve, second only to the cars blind merging into my lane. My mileage for the last day was 520, Williams, CA to Corvallis, OR.

Will I do this trip again? Yes. I'm already looking at different routes. My bike could use a custom seat and taller windscreen, but otherwise is a great sport touring bike. I'd like to run it with a group that rides the same pace as me, but managing a group is harder than herding cats.

Until next time, you meet the nicest people on a Honda.

Return to The Dalles

What the hell am I doing up this early on a Saturday? I kept thinking to myself as I shuffled about getting dressed and shoveling food into my mouth. For some terrible reason I was awake at 5am on a Saturday. The sun was starting to come up and light the sky, and the weather hadn't cooled off much since the heat of the previous day

I sped off on my bike just before 6am, and made good time north on the Super Slab. The weather was already warm enough that I was wearing my full mesh, promising to be a scorcher. Riding the Super Slab was uneventful, and traffic through the Portland area was typically light at this early hour. Again, why am I doing this to myself?

Passing by Troutdale I was joined on the Freeway by a silver SV-650 that looked awful familiar. It took me a few moments before realizing I did know the rider, and that he was probably going the same place I was. Funny coincidence running into Sammy on the same stretch of road at the same time. Once the city fades away the speed of I-84 picks up. We were well into good cruising speed when we came upon a mythical creature.

This unicorn if you will was a Prius driver that goes fast in the left lane. Sammy and I tailed him for a dozen miles before he slowed and exited, a rare creature that drives a hybrid in a way that doesn't obstruct traffic.

Even early in the morning the Gorge winds were already pulsating, reminding up that we are nothing but bugs to be tossed around by the wind. We made great time into The Dalles, fueled up, and went on to the meetup with the Saturday Morning Coffee crew.

The SMC crew meets at a Church turned cafe. They serve an excellent breakfast sandwich, good coffee, and have a space big enough to accommodate a dozen riders for a pre-ride feast. At SMC I discovered that one other rider from my neck of the woods had come up for the weekend, Cutback.

Pictured: not quite all the bikes.

During breakfast we learned that one of the riders had a go-down on their way to SMC. One of the guys, Don Quixote, took off to help him out. Casey was fine, but his newish bike was pretty badly wrecked.

A little later than planned we all finished up our food and coffee and went out to get underway. The cast of characters for today:
Don Quixote - Triumph Tiger. The unofficial leader and ride planner. Mike knows every road.
The Jackal - EDR R1. Dr. Jackal will set the pace.
Flamin' Beans - CBR1000RR. Dr. Jackal's son.
Cutback - ZX6R. Call him old and he'll suck you into a corner that you'll crash out of.
Sam Eye Ham - SV-650. A talented and understated rider. Don't let the bike fool you.
(I Didn't catch his name) - Street Triple. I didn't learn much of this gentleman, but a true professional he was.
Yours Truly - Interceptor

If you ask most any experienced corning enthusiast in Oregon what the best day ride is they'll probably include The Fossil Run in their list. Skilled riders can make The Fossil Run in 11 parsecs. For the Gorge and Multinomah riders The Fossil Run is a thing of legend, a rite of passage, and a religious experience.

The last time I was in The Dalles was June 21, 2015; the day I had my life changing crash at ORP. The last time I had shredded the roads around the Gorge was August, 2014. Obviously my presence at the ritualistic Fossil run was overdue.

Departing SMC it was only a few miles out of town where the real riding started. We flew out Old Dufur road, Five Mile, Eight Mile, a mix of roads I couldn't remember the names of. I was hanging back, the last sport rider tailed by the Triumph riders in sweep. We somehow ended up going around Dufur on some amazing roads that followed some creek or another.

Eventually we found our way to a main highway and traveled south in formation through the Tygh Valley. From there we went out Hwy 216 along the Deschutes river. It was only about 11am but I was already cooking in my mesh gear. Putting along the river seeing all the boat ramps made me want to pull over for a quick swim, but I didn't want to get left behind.

Just past the Deschutes river crossing is a two mile uphill grade with good switchbacks. Don't look over the edge or you might psych yourself out of the great corners the grade has to offer. By the top I'd been left behind a little. The Triumphs behind me were out of sight and Jackal, Cutback, Sam, and Beans were far enough ahead of me that I just assumed that we were going to stay on this highway until we hit another major road.

This section of 216 is prairie, it rises and falls, then there's a turn, then rise and fall. You can go quite fast here, but you shouldn't because you can't see whats beyond the next rise. Unlike ag roads in the Willamette valley, the corners here are clear of debris and you can dig into them and power out. Coming over one of the rises I had a close encounter with a trio of deer, don't outride your ability to dodge or brake.

Eventually I got to Grass Valley and didn't see my friends, I realized I must have missed a turn, knowing generally where I was and where we were going I turned south an proceeded down highway 97 at a "I know there's cops on this road" pace. I then realized that this section was now a 65 zone and the trucks were doing 75 so all bets were off.

Just before Shaniko I discovered my friends and we proceeded onward. At Shaniko we picked up highway 218. Shaniko to Antelope starts out tame, a few 35mph corners, a sweeper, and a straightaway. Then it goes all to hairpins and switchbacks for a mile before dumping you out at Antelope. Just when you're getting into the groove of the switchbacks its over and the real fun begins.

When sport riders talk about The Fossil Run what they're really talking about is the thirty something miles between Antelope and Fossil. Everything else is just icing on the cake, but this is the real meat of the run. Highway 218 follows the contour of rivers, creeks, and hills to make one of the best sport riding roads in Oregon. To make it even better the road surface is good, debris is minimal, traffic is light, and what traffic you do come across often politely lets you pass. The way there I was still getting my confidence back. We had lunch at RJ's in Fossil. I think they probably get a lot of motorcyclist clientele. Our lunch was spent recapping the beauty of the roads we'd been on and Cutback and Jackal ribbing each other about close passes and blown corners.

Of course half the fun of riding Antelope to Fossil is getting to ride Fossil to Antelope. I should point out that it was about 100 degrees and at the highest point in the ride is chilled to a comfortable (for mesh) 90 or so.

My video from that half of the run was better, so I'll share it.

https://youtu.be/2i4TKxqauYE

We regrouped at Antelope. Don Quixote had gone off to explore a Forest Service road, so once we had out lone Triumph back we zipped up to Shaniko, then South on 97.

Jackal had told us about the next destination road. The locals call it "Literbike Alley" for its long straights and sweeping corners. They weren't kidding. It wasn't a few minutes until the race replica bikes in the pack were out of sight. I kept my speed in a sedate misdemeanor range, I don't like to ride at license remover speed on unknown roads. Literbike Alley lived up to its name, and by the time I got to the end and descended the switchbacks into Maupin my mind had that buzz going that I would normally only get from the track where everything is slowed down. Going the speed limit or suggested speed feels much slower than it normally does. Its like Bullet-Time from The Matrix, except I'm on a bike, and I'm not The One.

Maupin is a nice little town on the Deschutes river. During the summer there is a lot of rafting  business. Two years ago I went on a raft trip from/through Maupin on the Deschutes, nice place. Riding through it one can see where the outside money is starting to buy up land and put in boring high priced subdivisions. Boo gentrification. Too bad for the people of Maupin, soon they'll be pushed out by the prices.

Riding up out of Maupin has a few cool curves, then it settles into the gentle sweeping curves of Highway 97. We formed up and went non-ticketing speed for this. Good thing we did because we got passed by several LEOs, probably surprised we weren't giving them an excuse to ticket. We cut off onto Eight Mile, or Five Mile, or Dufur road or something. Honestly by this point I wasn't keeping track of what road we turned onto, I was just enjoying the curves. The last leg of our trip took us by the landfill and through the Cherry orchards on the hills of The Dalles before ending at Casa De Jackal.

Pictured: the bikes of Sammy, Jackal, me, Mrs Jackal, Flamin Beans, and Cutback.

We showered, cooled off with popsicles, ice cream bars,  and adult beverages, and settled in to watch various video we'd shot. Halfway through the post-ride meeting we watched some Youtube footage of a rider on the Island of Cyprus with a well sorted GSXR1000, a gyrocam, talent, and no fear. After watching that our footage seemed slow, so we watched MotoGP Qualifying.

The next day we were joined by some of the Brat Pack from the central valley for the semi-weekly MotoGP watching. It was a good race, then we all went home. The way back was uneventful. Lots of traffic, very hot.

3000 Mile Review: 2014 VFR800F/D

A little while ago the Brats decided to crash (pun intended) the Springfield Bike Night. Five years ago Marv had a life altering crash on the way to SBN, and this was the same day of the month five years later; May 13, Friday. The way there was uneventful, Marv made it there in one piece this time. As I was pulling into Sonic I noticed another VFR. It was a 6th gen missing its lower fairings, next to it was a white helmet and hi-vis yellow jacket.

I was thinking to myself "that combination looks really familiar" when I saw the rider and recognized him, Steve from Grants Pass. We'd met in Grants Pass at some bike nights I had put together. Over the course of bike night Steve picked my brain about the eighth generation VFR and divulged that he is a reader of my blog.

You heard that right, I have a reader.

OK, ego trip over.

Steve asked for a review of the VFR. I have just over three thousand miles on it, so I feel I can write an initial review. Keep in mind that this is a review of the Deluxe edition and has features the base model doesn't.

Power: The VFR has about the same get up and go according to my butt-dyno as a 600cc supersport. Obviously its heavier than a 600, but it has a bigger torqueyier engine to at 782cc with VTEC. The lower side of the power band is torquey like a 650 v-twin, at 7k RPM the VTEC engages but the transition feels like a throttle dead spot until the bike takes off. With VTEC engaged the bike opens an additional intake/exhaust valve and the torque curve gets steeper. By my butt dyno it feels like the bike stops riding like a high revving v-twin and starts behaving more like an inline four. If you hit 7k RPM gradually the dead spot is more noticeable than if you're WOT when you get there. When passing its a good idea to shift down to where VTEC is engaged so that it accelerates like a raped ape. Top speed 135mph with a rider my size on it. With a lighter exhaust, a fuel controller, and a lighter rider you might be able to get more.

Brakes: Good brakes. No complaints.

Suspension/Handling: The Deluxe model comes with forks that are adjustable for preload and rebound (the base model isn't adjustable) and a rear that has a remote preload adjuster and rebound adjustment on the shock. The remote adjuster makes carrying passengers MUCH easier than having to take a wrench to the rear each time. Getting the suspension into the ballpark for me was a breeze and I feel like it holds to the road pretty well. The OEM tires are on the hard/stiff side as with most OEM ST tires and will break loose a little bit. In the rain the tires handle decently but will noticeably break loose around turns under moderate speed/acceleration. I wouldn't take these tires on the track and will probably swap them out after my July trip to Laguna Seca (may as well waste them on the slab). The swingarm on the 2014 is heavier and doesn't appear to have the signature swingarm flex of the sixth generation.

Ergonomics: Coming from a CBR600RR the Interceptor is more stretched out and has a nicer stock seat. It is still rather forward leaning, and I've added .6" bar risers (Motopumps brand) to bring it up/back a little, which makes a nice difference in longer rides. Being that I am 6' tall I haven't tried adjusting the seat down so I can't comment on that. My consort (5'5") spent nearly seven hours on the back in one day and was OK for about four of those hours. In a sport riding position the wind will hit you right in the helmet, a taller touring windscreen might be nice to have. Unlike most sport motorcycles the Interceptor has usable mirrors which double as rather visible turn signals. On the Interceptor your knees are in a more cramped position than comparable Sport/Touring bikes like the Ninja 1000.

Fuel Economy: Low 35mpg (riding fast, with side bags, and a passenger), High 48 (no bags, no passenger, riding at a quick pace mostly at even speeds)

Luggage: Unlike my old CBR the Interceptor has a metal fuel tank and I can use a magnetic tank bag which is more convenient than a strap on bag. Underneath the rear seat are straps for attaching a tail bag or bungee net. The OEM hardbags are expensive but worth it. They attach to the subframe and leave no ugly frames behind when you detach them. Unfortunately the hardbags don't hold a helluva lot, but its a sport bike at heart, not a Goldwing.

Maintenance: Changing the oil is a pain in the rear. You don't have much room to work with to loosen and remove the oil filter. The US 50-State edition has an evap-canister in the way so you have to unhook the radiator and radiator support to get the oil filter out. My first time changing the oil I found that the dealship had torqued everything on there way harder than you need to and I ruined my plastic oil filter wrench, and had to buy a new metal one. The lower fairings are fairly easy to remove and reinstall, so I have that going for me.

Other stuff
Headlights: LED headlights, nice and bright
Center Stand: great feature, makes chain maintenance a breeze
Pre-wired for heated gear
Heated grips
ABS: Its OK, somewhat intrusive when it does go off. I feel its helped me maintain control a few times when unexpected things happen in the rain.
Traction Control: Feels like an afterthought. When it goes off you lose your engine for a few heartbeats which is freaky the first couple times. About the only time I thought it might have helped was in the rain.

No regrets

Thoughts on a stormy post-bike night

I dislike running, it hurts my knees these days. Swimming isn't really my thing and there aren't many pools accessible to me. Using the cardio machines at the gym gets really really boring even with an iPad and a subscription to Amazon Video. Bicycling, I actually kind of like. Yeah its painful and difficult and requires just as much motivation to get out the door as anything else but it is low impact and not that bad once you get into a rhythm.

In a perfect universe we wouldn't have to do any kind of exercise , our bodies would just look and perform perfectly all the time for whatever we wanted. In the real world though we have to counteract the effects of office jobs, work off stress, drop winter weight, and maintain muscle groups for whatever activities we enjoy. I find that bicycling does a pretty good job of keeping my body in shape for riding a sport bike.

Just like with motorcycling I ride a sport oriented bicycle. It works all the muscles in my legs, my lower back, and core from being hunched over the bars. It also keeps me in touch with the very real fact that everyone else on the road is out to kill me.

This week has been very tough for me. There are a lot of stressors at work and in life. I have great things to look forward to this year but my mind is the disquiet type that will agonize over the bad things constantly until I pull it out of the ditch manually. At work I can't physically check out when I start getting into a chase-my-tail mental downturn.

Tonight was Albany bike night. ABN is basically an excuse to get together with friends at a greasy spoon and be inappropriate, talk bikes, and anything else we can't do in our everyday lives. Getting there was hellish on a sport bike. The first five miles getting out of Corvallis was stop and go in the traffic pattern of people leaving Corvallis who work there but can't afford to live there, and the dearth of good routes to get from there to Albany. Then it was faster moving but congested traffic the rest of the way. I know its better than the Bay Area for instance, but it still sucks.

Realization of why I ride number nine hundred and sixty came on the way home when I did something as simple as accelerate hard from a stop and around a corner, riding first all the way to redline before shifting. In that handful of seconds where my 782cc of growling V4 symphony turns from a sedate street machine into a sixteen valve monster my entire neurotic being was quiet and all that remained was the next three seconds. The forgetting of self for a few seconds of hard acceleration, all of the worries about rent increases, angry coworkers, election year media stress, and even worrying about speeding tickets goes away.

Someone needs to bottle that feeling and sell it.

OMRRA 2016 Round 1 Day 1

Would you believe that a fan of MotoGP like myself has been amiss in actually ever going to local club level racing? I know, horrible. You can stop reading if its that bad to you. This year I fortunately had the time to make it to the premiere of the OMRRA series at Portland International Raceway. After struggling through the congested I-5 traffic I arrived at the home of my people, camera in hand.

OMRRA runs a pretty standard club structure where almost any bike that meets safety requirements can race in some class. Like other clubs they also run multiple classes in a given race, based on expected lap times and such. You might see a vintage two stroke bike racing in the same grid as a Ninja 250.
Like this:

The first race, a Novice race, ended in a red flag unfortunately but the rider was able to mostly walk away. The following races were a smattering of different classes while I wandered from grandstand to grandstand practicing my racetrack photography.

I snapped and snapped and snapped and managed to get some good pictures of overtakes and very fast bikes.

The Formula Ultra race was exciting but also reminded me of MotoGP. The Formula Ultra bikes are the fastest, most expensive, and loudest of the bikes on the OMRRA grid. It reminded me of MotoGP because one particular rider took the lead and blew everyone else away.

^This guy mopped the floor.

The Formula 4 grid was possibly the most uneven grid due to its wide variety of bikes. Formula 4 encompasses Cripple Triples (4 cyl 600CC bikes with one cylinder disabled so that its a 450cc), 650 Twins, and the odd air cooled open class super mono.

Following Formula 4 came a 600CC SuperSport race that included some of the bikes I'd seen in earlier grids. OMRRA allows you to race bikes in disadvantaged classes.

Speaking of disadvantaged I must give a respectful shout out to this warrior on an old FZR600 racing in a class of modern 600cc bikes.

Next came a "new" class. Since the manufacturers have started releasing 300ish CC sport bikes the clubs have gotten to add new classes to allow these bikes to compete. The Ultralightweight SuperSport class includes Ninja 300s, RC390s, and R3s. Having test rode an R3, Ninja 300, and an RC390 I really expected the little KTM to do better in racing but they were firmly mid pack with a bunch of little Ninjas. As with other races there were some 250s racing in this grid as well.

All in I had a great time. I'll try to make an appearance at the next round, maybe with a press pass so I can get closer to the track for some better pictures. Its kinda funny, I ended up talking to quite a few people at the track and everyone was really nice, like old friends who I hadn't seen in a while. You meet the nicest people on a Honda.

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt

How do you measure experience in a sport? How do you measure proficiency? How do others see and judge you? How do you decide when you've been there and done that?

In scuba diving, the first equipment intense sport I experienced, there's guys with ultra new equipment and decked out camera gear that take up half of the dive deck and spends more time playing with his technology than experiencing the dive. Then there's the guy that’s really been there done that with perfect buoyancy control and twenty year old equipment. His experience level and confidence flow from him the way that the tech-gearhead's money flows from his wallet.

In riding there’s different levels of been there done that. Just like in diving one can't judge another's experience by the gear or the bike. The most obvious stereotypes are discussed ad-nausea on forums, messages boards, bars, coffee shops, and bike nights. Each different riding style has its own stereotypes of the newbie, the expensive gearmonger, the old timer, and the person who has really been there and done that.

All riding types have the short timers; people that join the sport and are active for a few years before they retire to due tickets, injuries, loss of interest, or spousal obligations. You see this just as much with the middle aged white guy that buys a brand new Harley Davidson as you do with the twenty something who buys a supersport and rides wheelies down main street. In my travels I hear the same story over and over again from people that "used to" ride, but had to stop for the above reasons.

Possibly the stereotype that gets the most fun poked at them are the coffee shop riders. You know the type, they own expensive bikes, be it Ducati riders with Dainese gear or BMW with pristine branded textiles, and only ride them once a month to the local bikes and coffee meetup. Maybe they've been there done that already and they don't need to do it anymore? Who knows.

Since I'm a sport rider, as the name of my blog would imply, I feel a special obligation to mention the iconic Crotch Rocketeer. Being that its April the type is starting to come out of their winter hibernation and start screaming down your roads wearing tank tops and shorts, with an amazing mohawk on their helmet and a disregard for their wellbeing in their head. Unfortunately few make it long enough to grow out of that phase, learn control, buy some gear, and not kill, injure, or ticket themselves out of existence. I hate to make generalizations, but these guys don't last long enough to have been there, done that.

Each riding type has a different level of being "there". In my opinion its marked by a consummate professionalism about riding. These are the riders that try to be the very best they can be all the while mitigating the risk of injuries and legal problems. Riders of this caliber aren't the ones bragging at bike night, but you can see their accomplishments by lack of chicken strips, a collection of track day inspection stickers, location stickers, high numbers of their odometers, and sun bleached gear.

At the track you might see it as the guy on the old ninja 250 or well used supersport passing the guy on the brand new Ducati Panigale 1299 in a tight corner.

On the highway you might see the lone adventure bike rider with a plethora of location stickers on his panniers, riding in the rain in the winter by himself.

On your favorite roads you might see the guy on the superbike with saddlebags who is touring across states to see various destination roads, someone who has such good body positioning and core strength that they can ride such a bike all day.

During my November 2015 trip I realized I was almost “there” when I got the biker wave from a guy on a BMW 1200gs in an orange Aerostitch suit during a rainstorm on an otherwise empty coastal highway.

Have Bags Will Travel

When I got the new bike I decided to splurge and order the factory saddlebags. You only live once. So after weeks of waiting I pulled into the service center of the dealership for the first service. Imagine my surprise when they told me it would take an additional two hours and two hundreds dollars for them to key the bags and mount them.

Eff that. I told them to ship the boxes to me and I would do it. So after a week more of waiting I came home to a pile of boxes at my doorstep. At last!

With a little help from Youtube I had the first lock keyed in an hour, and the second in about twenty minutes.

Imagine my dismay when I discovered that one of the hardbags doesn't close correctly. Its either defective or damaged in shipment. Either my faith in Honda's premiere fit and finish is about to be shaken, or  whoever builds these for Honda does a sub par job. Overall the units look good, but the hinges are a little cheesy looking.

I guess a call to the parts department is in order to find out what the heck we can do about this. I can sit on the bag and make it close mostly right, but that's not an option on the road...

Baby got back.

Update: got it sorted out by gently and firmly closing it then leaving it in a hot car all day.