The Best of Rides, the Worst of Bikes

The best of rides, the worst of bikes

EDITORIAL

AH. YF.S. HERE COMES ANOTHER DEvoted, adulating reader. I thought to myself as the man strode directly toward me, his eyes clearly fixed on mine. Probably wants an autograph, I guessed, or maybe just sage advice on some subject of huge importance.

I have not the words to tell you how wrong I was. This man was anything but a fan of mine—or of CYCLE WORLD or any other motorcycle magazine. Because in no uncertain terms, he informed me that he despised motorcycle rags and all of the unfortunate souls who happen to write for them. End quote.

That really caught me off-guard. I had spent most of that day wandering around a motorcycle show, where those in attendance had been notified of my presence by Larry Huffman, the high-decibel, motormouthed announcer familiar to most motorcycle-racing fans. During a live interview with me that was broadcast over the public-address system. Huffman had asked questions about current events and new models in the business, then announced that I would be hanging around for a while to answer questions.

Frankly, I didn’t think anyone would care; but a few seemed to, and so for a short time, I had some engaging conversations with a number of CYCLE WORLD readers. Then the aforementioned gentleman came slicing through the crowd like the villain in Jaws. Only things missing were the dorsal fin and that familiar, dun-da-dun-da-dun-da background music. And after devouring me like a late-afternoon shark snack, he marched off as purposefully as he had arrived. Exit, stage right.

In the minute or so he had been in my face, though, he made his feelings about motorcycle magazines crystalclear. He said they all present a distorted picture of reality by implying that you can't have fun riding a motorcycle unless you're on the newest, most sophisticated machine intended for that express purpose. In subtle but powerful ways, he claimed, we tell people that they can't hope to enjoy long-distance riding unless they've got the latest full-boat touring rig, that it’s not worthwhile to go sport riding unless they're on the best-handling corner-bender in existence, that they shouldn't waste their time thrashing around in the woods on anything less than the finest dirt bike known to man.

He allowed as how such behavior on our part was irresponsible, unforgivable and damaging. Most riders can't afford the best brand-new' machinery every year, he reasoned, so our attitude does more to discourage people from maintaining their enthusiasm for motorcycles than it does to encourage them.

I thought about that for some time. And I finally came to believe that although the man overstated his case, maybe he had a valid point. Maybe motorcycle magazines talk so endlessly about the latest, longest, strongest, fastest, quickest, trickest machinery that they send their readers the wrong messages.

I hope that’s not "true. We don't subscribe to any such philosophy here at CYCLE WORLD, and I don’t think our colleagues at the other magazines do. either. But if this magazine has ever left you with that impression, please accept my sincere apology. It was unintentional.

Indeed, when I think back over the hundreds of thousands of miles I’ve logged during my 30 years of riding, some of my finest, most memorable experiences have come on bikes not at all suited to the task.

A perfect for-instance is the threeday trail ride I once took through the Allegheny Mountains in Pennsylvania on—of all things—a 650 BSÁ TT/ flat-track racebike. Three fellow racers and I ended up in that area after a season-ending TT championship, and decided to do some trail riding on our racing machines. With street tires and no front fenders, our mounts forced us to ride at a much more relaxed pace than we would have on real dirt bikes. But that's what made the ride so wonderful. Even though we were go-fast riders by nature, we had to take it easy; thus, we couldn't help but enjoy the breathtaking fall scenery in those rolling, tree-covered mountains, where the beauty of leaves turning hues of gold and purple has for years been a powerful tourist attraction. But on proper enduro bikes, we probably wouldn’t have had time to notice.

That’s not the only time I've enjoyed a magnificent ride on a totally inappropriate motorcycle. I once toured much of California and Oregon on a Yamaha DT400 dual-purpose bike that, while certainly less than thrilling for droning along IWhatever. gave me access to remote areas I would never have even tried to get near on a big touring rig. Then there was the time I spent two days on the convoluted backroads of West Virginia playing roadracer on a Honda XL500 dual-purpose bike. I didn't go nearly as fast as I could have on the premier sportbike of the day, but it didn't matter; I went as fast as I could, so the kinesthetic reward—and the enjoyment—was about the same. And of the countless rides I've taken along California’s fabled Pacific Coast Highway, one of the most memorable was on a Harley-Davidson touring rig pulling a trailer. It definitely made for the slowest passage I've ever experienced along that road, which is Utopia for West Coast knee-draggers; but rather than trying to ride WFO from start to finish as I usually do, I just relaxed and enjoyed. And in the process, I saw more of California's gorgeous coastline than I had during all my previous trips along that road combined.

So please, don't misinterpret what we do in this magazine. The vast majority of our articles deal with new motorcycles simply because they’re news—and we are, after all, in the news and entertainment business. But we never forget that sometimes, the worst bike for the job can be the best bike for the job. —Paul Dean