FAT BASTARDS - PART 2 (Click here for Part 1) So I finally made it to Cape Cod and now I don't know what to do. Well, I've got a bike and some notes to write, so I figured a ride up the Cape to Province Town was in order. The Cape's basically a long sand bank and as such doesn't make for the most interesting riding. It's here that I really enjoyed the Royal Star. Up in top, puttering along at 80km/h the Yam was in it's element. Here a Valkyrie would be pushing you to open her up. The Royal Star just thumped along happily at the speed limit. Cruising on a cruiser, who would have figured? The rest of my time on the Cape was spent generally relaxing and taking it easy, and so I'll jump straight to the trip home. Monday, Sept. 8 (Lake George, N.Y.)
Just onto Hwy 2 (west of Boston), the Royal Star spluttered onto reserve. Okay, good time for lunch .. gas and lunch it is. It's here that I exited Hwy 2 to make my acquaintance with the town of Johnny Appleseed. I stopped at the local information office for directions and was mumbled a load of words with the name 'Sears' in it. My director also sussed that I was English and duly offered her condolences on the death of Diana. "Yes, yes, very tragic ... I'll pass that onto the Queen when I talk to her next .. Bye". Okay I was wet, hungry and snarky. Goddamn this town. There must be a gas station somewhere. Ever since running out of gas after only 20km of reserve on a Triumph Trophy, I've dreaded going onto reserve with a test bike. You just don't know how long you got. "Hey, what's that? Sears Mall ... and there's a Shell .. and a Dennys ... cool!". With myself and my steed now fully refreshed we left Johnny Appleseed and rejoined Hwy 2 West. As I approached the north west corner of Massachusetts the road started to climb and get twisty. This was the Berkshire Hills. Here the highway winds up and down, demanding full concentration. This is sport bike territory. The temptation to blast down the short straights and throw her into the next sharp corner was soon rejected as the Star started to go jelly like, requiring the whole of the blind bend to get her back on track. Kept below 110 and there wasn't a problem - strange. The concentration required to keep it in the safe zone caused me to miss my turn, and as I meandered out of the hills, I pulled over to check my map. "Wow, that's a big building and look at all that fencing and barbed wire. Hmhh, must be a prison ..." Yep, as it twigged a pick up truck pulled up and a prison official stepped out. Ohh err, am I in trouble now? I think the English accent helped to back up my story of lost tourist over suspected jail breaker. At this point I decided to call it a day and rumbled up to Lake George in search of a cheap motel. US$38 later and I was settled. Seeing the Yam parked outside attracted two other bikers to the
Rum, beer, food, etc and the evening whiled away with talk of bikes, lifestyle, the U.S., the U.K., Canada and all. To me this is how a biking holiday should be. A night in a motel room in front of trash TV is a wasted evening. Tuesday, Sept. 9 (Toronto, Ont) After fond farewells to my new drinking buddies, it was off to cover the Adirondacks via Hwy 28 and 30. These are the ideal hills for the Royal Star. Nothing too demanding - just gentle curve to gentle curve, separated by the occasional mile straight so that you could blast by all the slow trucks. As I meandered out of the Adirondacks and closer to the border, I passed a dead raccoon. Oh great, just what I need for the final installment of the OMG 'Subscribe or the animals pay' series (see the back of this issue for the result). Now to the uneducated this would seem like an easy enough chore. But there's a whole lot of variables here. Is it a good species? Is it far enough to the side of the road (safe to take a picky), etc. Anyway, Ricky Raccoon was perfect. Park up the Yam, out with the camera ... Snap, snap and the deed was done. Just as I was putting the camera away a car pulled up behind me. Not just any car, but a State Trooper. Oh shit. How do, I explain this one? Should I say that I hit it? Nah, it was already a tad too smelly to be recent kill. Should I just tell the truth? "Well I publish a motorcycle magazine and we run pictures of road kill to try to get people to subscribe". No. What kind of sick bastard would do that? I'd be sectioned into the local nut house and that would be that. I know, I'm lost .. "Hello Officer. I'm trying to get to the Thousand Islands, but I appear to be lost". Superb, even the bike was facing the wrong way. Plod then gets out a map, tells me I'm going the wrong way and gives me the right directions. Who says that honesty is the best policy? After a painful four hours down the 401 (I hate that highway), I was back in the big smoke by 6pm. All in all a great trip. Didn't get as much time on the BM as I'd liked, but Larry did, and so he can comment on that. So what are our thoughts on the bikes? Read on ... FAT BASTARD SUMMARY Since Larry wrote this up and sent it onto me I figured I'd just use it - Sure beats working! ENGINES: BMW: Anything that will walk away from a Valkyrie in top and fourth gear needs little more comment made. Like all the other BM injected twins I've tried, there's a slight flutter or hunting just around 3,000 rpm under light or steady throttle, but frankly if you didn't watch for it I'm not sure you'd not notice it. Roll-on and passing power is awesome! Honda: Likes to be above 3,000 rpm for max power, but hardly
Yamaha: Smooth? Yes. Flat spots? No. Quick take-up? Um, not really. About normal for a bike like this. It occasionally might need a downshift where the others didn't, but the bottom line is that nobody ever got left behind riding it, and while we weren't exactly burning up the tarmac we weren't hanging around waiting for passing opportunities, either. |