Need For Speed

It’s 6 degrees C, sunny and no wind. I don’t know what the Weather Network is reporting as the ‘feels like’ temperature, and I don’t care, it feels like ‘jumping on the KLR and having a ride’ temperature to me. Naturally I spend a frantic forty-five minutes looking for my bike key, which includes tossing my bedroom in a way that would make your average FBI agent jealous. Finally, I assemble my thoughts and work out that if the key isn’t in my biking jacket pockets, desk and every other drawer that it could be, not on the floor beneath all the furniture, then it quite possibly will be in the pocket of my riding trousers…DAH! A few minutes later I’ve got the cover off the bike, unplugged the battery charger and got the motor running on the choke. No fuel injection here, just a good old-fashioned carburetor. Actually, even the brand new 2018 models are not fuel injected.

My Dinosaur

Yes Kawasaki are still producing the KLR 650, but I suspect that it may not be for that much longer. I love mine, but I must admit that it is a bit of a dinosaur, but then I suspect so am I. (I’ve been called a Typosaurus Rex because of my two-finger typing.)

Technically it’s not yet spring, only a few days away, so I feel really privileged to be getting another ride so early in 2018. Winter isn’t really about to release its grip on us, tomorrow morning is expected to be -13 degrees C. The season hasn't started yet, so I’ll just grab my chances as and when the occasional nice day happens, and hope that these happen on weekends. Nonetheless spring is in the air, if I were a younger man my mind might be turning to where younger men’s minds turn to in the spring, instead the little bit of testosterone I have left is making me twist the throttle more than I should. I have a need for speed today. I’m not in the mood to explore little side roads and amble down dirt roads, I want the pavement and I want to be moving at a decent clip. Ok, this isn’t a sports bike, so I’m not going to go roaring down the road doing 200 km/h, even if the KLR could, I don’t think I have THAT much testosterone. I head west on Davis Drive, aka Highway 9 at 100 km/h plus, the limit is 80, but I’m travelling no faster than the general traffic speed, well perhaps just little. Inside a cocoon of riding jacket with lining, thick sweater, jeans and riding trousers, double socks, lined boots and insulated gloves, I don’t feel any cold over my body and most of the extremities, however an icy zephyr sneaks in under the helmet and freezes my chin and cheeks. Jesus, it’s cold, but that’s just tough, I haven’t felt this good for ages.

I head north on County Road 27. My plan is to do one of my favourite shortish rides, it’s a nice ride for a summer evening or a breakfast run on a Sunday morning, Orangeville via Beeton and Hockley Valley, farmlands and forests. Once I turn off County Road 27 there is very little traffic, I open up a little. There is nothing quite like speeding on a well-maintained pavement, empty of traffic, with the farming smell of silage and cow shit in your nostrils. Its mostly straight with some hills, but the road does a few nice 90 degree turns before Hockley Village. Nice sweeping corners that you can take at good speed for a few nice cheap thrills. The really good twisties are between Hockley Village and Orangeville which makes this route so popular with motor bikers, at least in the summer, so far, I seem to be the lone ranger today.

Hockley General Store

I stop at the Hockley Valley General Store for coffee, and a chance to warm up. It’s nice and sunny so I stand outside and soak up the sun while sipping on a triple shot Americano. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here, so it’s like visiting an old friend you haven’t seen lately. Another biker stops, he is also riding a KLR, much newer than mine and so covered in extra crap that it takes a really good look to figure out that it’s actually a KLR. We chat a bit, or rather he tells me about his many, many other bikes and all the stuff that’s been fitted to the KLR and that next year he’s going to get winter tyres fitted, like his mate in Quebec. Alrighty then, time to move on and take the twisties. I like to talk bikes and bike stuff, but this one-upmanship shit doesn’t interest me, some bikers are full of it.  

Lots of stuff

  

All goes well until about half way when two cars enter the road a few hundred meters ahead of me and proceed at a nice, easy Sunday afternoon pace, damn, my run is ruined with no chance to overtake. At Orangeville I stop and plug in the heated grips, my hands are starting to turn into blocks of ice. I decide to go home the way I came, this time I have an empty road all the way back to the General Store, bloody marvelous. I see a few other bikers are stopped and the KLR guy is still there, chatting to them, perhaps it’s a ‘my dick is bigger than yours’ discussion. I don’t stop, just nod and ride past.  

As the afternoon draws out it gets colder, but my enjoyment doesn’t diminish. Like my last ride there is still snow on the ground and the ponds are mostly frozen. If anything, the countryside is greyer and drabber, but if you look closer you’ll see that there are buds forming on the trees, and here and there something green seems to be pushing its way through the dry brown grass. Yup spring will soon be sprung.

Grey with snow patches and frozen ponds

I notice that the odometer is about to turn over to 43,000 km. Hey that means I’ve done about 25,000 Km on the KLR. I don’t think that’s too shabby, considering that I’ve had it since August 2015 and last year I lost over six weeks of prime riding time. Let’s see what’ll happen this year.