Although I was momentarily experiencing sensory overload, riding a Honda F4 at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway in the middle of January was proving to be a welcome change from the minus forty degree enforced hibernation back home in Montreal.
With a smooth arc through corner one, I focus on the upcoming 90-degree right-hander – on the brakes, shifter loaded. With a quick in/out of the clutch I’m into the appropriate gear and I slide half my ass off the seat – right foot weighting the peg, left knee pushing into the tank. My right arm is pushing on the bar in unison and I nail the corner with a perfect clip of the apex. With eyes already fixed on the next marker, the whole glorious process begins again.
Father (Karim) and son (Marco) Ouji, tell a tale about the search for a motorcyclist’s nirvana. Having had enough of Toronto riding, the East Coast’s Cabot Trail seemed like it could feasibly be a bike lover’s promised land… does it live up to their expectations in the end? Read on…
Big-bore dual-sports, I love ‘em. If there ever was a type of bike that you could say is made for Canada, it’s the big dualies.
Okay, so in part one we covered how these big dualies deal with the dirt (albeit relatively mild dirt), so for part two we’ll take a look at how they react to the asphalt.
Just having to sit down and process the reams of information and notes about all these bikes has been a real eye-opener. Okay, it’s been a right pain in the arse as well, but comparing each bike’s abilities in various terrains has yielded a pretty good idea of their standing in respect to each other.
On a 2000km road trip between Toronto and Winnipeg last year, I was surprised by the quantities of luggage-laden motorcycles I encountered on the Trans Canada, exploring this vast country of ours.
The criteria for our long term 2003 Yamaha WR450F was simple: What’ll she do? Particularly in the hands of the everyday schmo’s of CMG.
The Thruxton is Triumph’s latest derivation of the standard Bonneville platform, a much anticipated move into the folklore of the café racer and a much welcomed respite from a series of cruiser derivations that were aimed squarely at the American market.
It’s about 9pm and I’m sitting in a bar in Buckingham, Quebec with a pint of the best tasting ice-cold beer that I’ve had in a long time.