It's all about roads

It's all about roads

It's always been about the roads. Mid sixties, previous century, I was 28 years old, living in Boulder, Colorado and traveling the back roads of Colorado and southeastern Utah whenever possible in various Volkswagen bugs and a couple Renault R10's. I had never considered riding a motorcycle. I knew there were Harleys and Indians, I had heard of Triumph and BSA and who could have missed the ads: "You meet the nicest people on a Honda." That's all I knew about motorcycles. They didn't interest me.

But the roads did interest me. In the mid sixties, I was standing on a ledge overlooking the Schafer Trail's descent from Island in the Sky to the White Rim level below. The Shafer Trail was not in Canyonlands National Park at that time — they expanded the park later. Although the Schafer Trail was then designated 4-Wheel Drive Only, I was about to tackle it in my Renault R10. While I was looking, two riders on small trail bikes puttered along below. At that precise moment I experienced my first curiosity about riding a motorcycle.

I descended the Schafer Trail to the White Rim level in my R10, stopping only occasionally to move a rock out of my way. I attempted to continue on to Potash but that trail got too rough for me and I returned up the Schafer Trail. Other than the two trail bikes I saw before descending, I saw no other traffic. My kind of road — then. I imagined myself traveling such roads on a little motorbike of my own.

Back in Boulder, reading the paper, I saw the Honda dealer had a used Yamaha 80 for $199. I said, "If it looks like a motorcycle, I'm going to buy it." Meaning it had to have a tank between my legs; I didn't want one of the little step-through Japanese motorbikes I had seen the nicest people riding.

It looked like a motorcycle, albeit somewhat small. The Honda dealer asked if I wanted to try it. I said I had never ridden one. He took me for a ride, two up on the little 80. He was a big guy and the fact we trundled along at a relatively brisk pace indicated power was adequate for my needs. I bought it and rode across Boulder in workaday traffic to my office on the east side of town. No big deal. It was easy to ride. I had a knack for mechanical things, had owned and driven fast in a couple Jaguars, had a student pilot license, etc. Of course I don't recommend city traffic as a place to learn to ride but I didn't know any better then. Riding gear: dress slacks, loafers, short-sleeved shirt and tie, no sun glasses (or any glasses), no helmet. Back at the office I drew a crowd. A co-worker thought it looked like fun, tried it himself and promptly dumped it in the street trying to make a U-turn.

The little 80 had been geared down but its 45MPH top speed never inhibited me. I put over 3000 miles on it that summer, often two up. Rode it to work, sometimes with our young, sultry and voluptuous office secretary snuggled behind me, her already short skirt hiked to expose all there was to see of her lovely legs. It's a wonder we didn't cause an accident. Small the 80 might have been but it taught me a lot about the magic of two wheel transportation. But I digress. It's all about the roads. Rode it to the airport at Longmont. Rode it all over the mountains west of Boulder, even on the Peak to Peak highway. Most of all, though, I wandered off onto mountain 4WD trails because it was always about the roads.

It soon became apparent more ground clearance would be a good thing. More power would be nice, too. By fall, I wanted something bigger and faster. A new Yamaha 305 Big Bear Scrambler was fast but no dirt bike. I traded it back for a Yamaha 100 trail and bought a used trailer.

The next spring I took my first ride around the White Rim Trail in Canyonlands National Park, beginning with the Schafer Trail where I had watched the two trail bikes the previous year. An incident on that White Rim ride planted a seed of interest in Triumph twins. There were other riders from Boulder, one I didn't know on a 500 Triumph twin. At the bottom of Lathrop Canyon, near the Colorado River, he got sand in his Amal carburetor and stuck the throttle wide open. As I remember, he had no tools or mechanical aptitude. It was 100 degrees with no air stirring in the bottom of the canyon. No one would work on this guy's Triumph. I suggested riding it out on the kill button and fixing it on top where a breeze was blowing. No one would do that either so I did. If you know Lathrop Canyon, the climb out was a challenging ride but the Triumph handled it well and using the kill button to control speed wasn't as difficult as it may sound if you haven't tried it. I was hooked on power.

After a short flirtation with a new 250 Husqvarna Cross Country, I traded for what was intended to be my street bike and my dirt bike: a Triumph TR6R and Zundapp 100 ISDT Replica. The Triumph was inspired by the desert wins of Bud Eakins and my Lathrop Canyon ride; the Zundapp was inspired by Dave Eakins riding one to an overall win in the Greenhorn Enduro. The Zundapp was a gutless 4-speed; street riding wasn't that much fun. I put a new 125cc 5-speed Zundapp engine in the ISDT Replica and added high-pipes, folding foot pegs and a steel skid plate to the TR6. The Zundapp was unbelievably fast in the rocks and I had great respect for it but the Triumph was fun everywhere and I loved it. White Rim Trail, Lockhart Basin, Slick Rock Trail, Elephant Hill in Utah; Black Bear, Imogene, Engineer and other passes in the San Juans; Ute Trail (now long closed to motorcycles) and other high-mountain single-track trails west of Boulder; Rampart Range single track trails west of Denver: all yielded to Triumph torque, even with stock street gearing.

My 2nd Triumph, a TR6C, had a trials gear set with lower 1st and 2nd gears. My passion for riding trails on TR6 Triumphs was heavily influenced by the owners, employees and customers of Rocky Mountain Motorcycles in Boulder. There were several riders in this group who rode serious high-mountain single-track, first on TR6C Triumphs and later on 650 Triumph powered Rickmans. Because I often rode my big (in that era) bikes to Utah from Boulder, it would be 35 years before I finally owned a 650 Rickman Triumph. I still think it's one of the most beautiful motorcycles ever made.

By the late sixties, previous century, circumstances and experience had defined the kind of motorcycle I would continue to like to this day — a multi-purpose 650cc torquer capable of cruising all day on the highway or exploring interesting back country roads. For years I had a nostalgic longing for the TR6 Triumph of the sixties. Now, after 43 motorcycles and more than 270,000 miles, I've put more miles on KLR650 Kawasakis than any other model. Functionally, I guess the venerable KLR650 has become my TR6 of the new century, my 650cc multi-purpose motorcycle of choice for riding the back roads of western Colorado and eastern Utah. It's always been about the roads. They haven't changed much, the ones that are still open. Most have been artlessly graded and the traffic is heavier but they still go to the same beautiful places. Everything else has changed. I can't believe that young, voluptuous secretary is in her 60's now.