So I haven't addressed it yet on this here blog, but I'm an avid motorcyclist, and for the last year and a half I've owned the bike of my dreams (See left). This is a Triumph Daytona 675, and for those of you not familiar with it, it is a three cylinder sportsbike that displaces 675 cubic centimeters. Triumph claim that the 675 puts out 123 horsepower out of the box, which means usually around 107-110 at the rear wheel (horsepower figures are usually measured at the engine crank, for both cars and motorcycles, so that when the power actually makes it to the drive wheels there is some power loss through parasitic drag, i.e. the transmission and the drive chain suck some of the power up) and if you factor in the fact that the 675 weighs around 417 lbs. when fully fuelled, it's quite a rocket. It revs up to 14,000 rpm before the rev limiter kicks in, and at that engine speed, the wailing of the bike is sonorous and absolutely beautiful; smooth yet raspy at the same time. The handling of the bike has always been of some concern to me however, as I've never really felt fully comfortable on it. The suspension is adjustable for preload, rebound damping and compression damping in both the front and rear, so this means that you can either make it ride very sweetly if you know what you're doing, or you can totally bugger it up if you don't, as in my personal case. Suspension theory is a black art/science, and I won't even pretend to understand it well enough to explain it here, but suffice it to say that the 675 is a quick-steering little animal, darty, and even a bit twitchy for my tastes. It's very aggressive in both its riding position and its overall feel, which is a revelation when you're in the right frame of mind, but slightly intimidating for a conservative rider such as me.Today, though, after fiddling with the suspension over the last few weeks, I think I finally found the right mix of settings so that I felt much more comfortable when railing through some corners today on some twisty roads south of the city. I'm sure I wasn't as fast as I thought I was, but I'll just say that I haven't felt that good or that fast in a while. I'm preparing for a 3,000+ mile odyssey up to see my friend in Calgary, AB at the beginning of July, so I need to make sure to spend lots of time on the bike these next few weeks to ensure that my body's ready to be in position for 10+ hour days as I travel through Reno, northern Nevada, southeastern Idaho, and through Montana until finally reaching Alberta some 20 hours later! It'll be quite an adventure, and I need to get a camera to be sure to document it.
BUT, to take things back a little bit, the whole point of this post was to discuss the fact that last weekend I cheated. I rode a couple other motorcycles while the 675 sulked in a parking spot nearby, all in plain sight...
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The Dirty Deed
Buell is an American motorcycle company that was founded about 25 years ago by Erik Buell, an engineer, with a singular vision of applying some innovative and unconventional engineering principles to the paradigm of the sporting/racing motorcycle. Over the last ten years, Buells have been using tuned-up Harley-Davidson engines, since HD has been the sole owner of the Buell Motorcycle Company since 1998, so they emit that potato-potato-potato Harley sound that is the scourge of San Francisco tourists walking down the Embarcadero from the Giants ballpark (you get lots of Harleys accelerating hard with open exhaust pipes around there, ya know).
Having read a number of reviews of Buells over the years, I've always been interested in them, as much for their unconventional engineering solutions (holding the fuel in the frame of the motorcycle, mounting the exhaust under the engine, rather than out the side, and having one large front brake rotor that is mounted to the rim of the front wheel, rather than the hub, to name just a few innovations) as the fact that they're a fully American born and bred company. So when I heard that they were holding a Demo Day in Vallejo, CA last weekend, I knew I had to go over and see what these bikes were all about.
I've never been to a demo day for any motorcycle company before, so it was with some trepidation that I drove into the parking lot where the massive Buell truck and trailer were parked. It turned out that I had nothing to fear however, as the atmosphere was very laid-back, with a DJ spinning all types of music, guys sitting around chatting, and burgers at 12:30PM. You'd sign up, show your motorcycle endorsement on your license, and take out a bike for a 1/2 hour guided test drive with both a lead rider and a sweeper at the back. I was really hoping to be able to take off on my own with one of the bikes and to run at my own pace, since I figured the group rides would be pretty slow, but alas, it was not to be...
The first ride I chose the Firebolt XB12R, as I have read that it is the most "focused" of the Buells for sport riding. Start it up...boombadaboombadaboom...I look in the mirror and I see the world behind me zizzing around like so many reflections in broken shards of glass. Yeah, it vibrates a bit. The engine is alive, pulsating, rocking, coughing itself into life like a bear awakening from hibernation with a case of emphysema. The Buell rep who is running the show says mildly that the engine is a bit, ahem, "cold-blooded". I'll say! The engine is a Harley Sportster 1200 Evolution engine tuned for more performance, which means its engine architecture dates back to the mid-1950s or so, which isn't necessarily a bad thing; at least you know it's been around the block a few times...Still, at this point I'm just taken aback by how raucous this thing is without having even touched the throttle yet to start down the road. I get in behind a couple other riders after clunking into first gear using the agriculturally-smooth gearbox, and we start moving.
It's a half-hour test ride through downtown Vallejo and out to some moderately twisty roads running out past a mine and the backside of what looks to be some sort of refinery/factory unit, ending with a 4-5 mile blast down the highway so everyone can crank on the throttle some. Immediately, the Firebolt feels unlike anything I've ever ridden before; there's a plantedness to it, a certain organic sense to it, that helps it to feel "all-of-a-piece", as though it is a pretty good extension of myself, rather than just a machine. Buell's marketing materials call it "Intuitive Handling", which seems to be a pretty good way to sum it up. It took me a few minutes to look past the chunky vibes of the engine, however, to appreciate the rest of the motorcycle. First of all, I love the look of the thing --see below-- with its clean, bright white paint and contrasting blue windscreen and wheels. 
Secondly, the engine, despite its cold-bloodedness, feels fun, naughty even, and I understand why all those Harley guys love to put those loud-ass pipes on their bikes. Not that I would do that, mind you...
The first ride was quite slow for my taste, made worse by the fact that the other test riders ahead of me were hanging back and not letting the lead rider know to up the pace at all. I was a bit frustrated, but I figured I'd try again later, this time with a plan.
Upon returning to the lot to switch bikes, I decided to try the new 1125R, which is a completely new, mostly proprietary Buell with a water-cooled Rotax engine from Austria. This one is reputed to put out 146hp, according to Buell, so it's quite quick, then. I noticed that the engine sounds a lot like a parallel-twin when other riders were on them, which was a bit dissappointing, as I expected more trademark v-twin rumble from America's sole sportsbike maker. Nevertheless, I gave it a shot, and while the 1125R was undoubtedly fast as hell and more refined than the Firebolt, it is not the Buell I want. My Triumph is already too fast for me, so why would I want a bike that has over 20hp more? The big difference in this ride, other than the bike, was that I made sure to be right behind the lead rider, and the pace was, let us say, more spirited this time. I was grinning like crazy on the bike, amazed at how it let me do what I felt like so easily and was so competent, yet when the hammer went down, oh boy, it just shot down the road. Still, it ain't for me, necessarily.
So the third time in the lot, I decided to take the Firebolt again, to give it a proper go, riding right behind the lead rider again. Unfortunately, the pace was slow again, and so I didn't get to push the bike's handling that much, but still, I gained some insight on the Buell philosophy. Mass centralization - placing the weight as close to the center of the bike as possible - is a damn effective idea. It took a big shove on the bars to get the bike to turn quickly, but I realized after the fact that I wouldn't take the liberties I took with the Buell on my Triumph. Where the Triumph is a ginsu blade made for slicing, dicing and being as precise as possible, the Buell was more of a broadsword with training wheels: a manly - sorry ladies - motorcycle that still manages to give you a massive confidence boost, which ultimately is a more valuable character trait than any amount of power or technology. I wish I could be more specific with my comments on the handling of the Buell, since it left such a massive impression on me, but alas, my time with the bike was too brief, and I didn't take notes on how it felt at the time.
So I get back on the Triumph, start it up, and it settles into its familiar triple drone. I pull out of the parking lot, marvelling at how sewing-machine smooth it is after the bucking bronco Firebolt and shove on the handlebars to make a left turn...and almost crash. The Buell had gotten me so used to its style of handling, to shoving on the bars hard to get that mass-centralized mass to turn properly, that I used an inordinate amount of force on the Triumph without realizing it, and the quick-steering little 675 turned far more quickly than I had expected. That's when I realized just how different riding the Buell really was for me; it made my own bike, the bike of my dreams seem alien and a little bit uncomfortable. I had trusted the front-end of the Buell so much, so implicitly, that I steered it in a way that I never would on the Triumph. For the rest of the long ride home I was walking on eggshells, not trusting myself to steer the 675 to its liking, and not trusting the bike to cover up any mistakes I might make.
At this point, I started feeling guilty for my transgression, for having cheated. The touch of another lover had soured me on my first love, and I couldn't look at the 675 in the same way again. Which is not to say that I am not still enamored of the Triumph, far from it! This is just to say that the Firebolt showed me an alternate motorcycling reality, one in which my motorcycle skills were broadened and expanded by the bike, rather than scoffed at and ultimately inhibited by my own fears. The Triumph is a bike you approach (or at least, I approach) on bended knee, cowering in the face of its abilities and its single-mindedness, while the Buell is even more single-minded, yet somehow uplifting, asking you to ride with it on an adventure together. Well, that sounds pretty sappy, but at this moment, I don't have any other good way to describe it, and this post is getting excessively long.
Hopefully I can put a used Firebolt in my garage sometime in the near future, as I really liked that bike, and I really like the fact that it's American and distinctive. In the meantime, I'll definitely go back for another demo day next time Buell comes back to the Bay Area, and if they come to your area, give them a shot, you won't regret it.
Yeah, I'm happy on "my" Firebolt - mass centralization rawks!
Secondly, the engine, despite its cold-bloodedness, feels fun, naughty even, and I understand why all those Harley guys love to put those loud-ass pipes on their bikes. Not that I would do that, mind you...The first ride was quite slow for my taste, made worse by the fact that the other test riders ahead of me were hanging back and not letting the lead rider know to up the pace at all. I was a bit frustrated, but I figured I'd try again later, this time with a plan.
Upon returning to the lot to switch bikes, I decided to try the new 1125R, which is a completely new, mostly proprietary Buell with a water-cooled Rotax engine from Austria. This one is reputed to put out 146hp, according to Buell, so it's quite quick, then. I noticed that the engine sounds a lot like a parallel-twin when other riders were on them, which was a bit dissappointing, as I expected more trademark v-twin rumble from America's sole sportsbike maker. Nevertheless, I gave it a shot, and while the 1125R was undoubtedly fast as hell and more refined than the Firebolt, it is not the Buell I want. My Triumph is already too fast for me, so why would I want a bike that has over 20hp more? The big difference in this ride, other than the bike, was that I made sure to be right behind the lead rider, and the pace was, let us say, more spirited this time. I was grinning like crazy on the bike, amazed at how it let me do what I felt like so easily and was so competent, yet when the hammer went down, oh boy, it just shot down the road. Still, it ain't for me, necessarily.
So the third time in the lot, I decided to take the Firebolt again, to give it a proper go, riding right behind the lead rider again. Unfortunately, the pace was slow again, and so I didn't get to push the bike's handling that much, but still, I gained some insight on the Buell philosophy. Mass centralization - placing the weight as close to the center of the bike as possible - is a damn effective idea. It took a big shove on the bars to get the bike to turn quickly, but I realized after the fact that I wouldn't take the liberties I took with the Buell on my Triumph. Where the Triumph is a ginsu blade made for slicing, dicing and being as precise as possible, the Buell was more of a broadsword with training wheels: a manly - sorry ladies - motorcycle that still manages to give you a massive confidence boost, which ultimately is a more valuable character trait than any amount of power or technology. I wish I could be more specific with my comments on the handling of the Buell, since it left such a massive impression on me, but alas, my time with the bike was too brief, and I didn't take notes on how it felt at the time.
So I get back on the Triumph, start it up, and it settles into its familiar triple drone. I pull out of the parking lot, marvelling at how sewing-machine smooth it is after the bucking bronco Firebolt and shove on the handlebars to make a left turn...and almost crash. The Buell had gotten me so used to its style of handling, to shoving on the bars hard to get that mass-centralized mass to turn properly, that I used an inordinate amount of force on the Triumph without realizing it, and the quick-steering little 675 turned far more quickly than I had expected. That's when I realized just how different riding the Buell really was for me; it made my own bike, the bike of my dreams seem alien and a little bit uncomfortable. I had trusted the front-end of the Buell so much, so implicitly, that I steered it in a way that I never would on the Triumph. For the rest of the long ride home I was walking on eggshells, not trusting myself to steer the 675 to its liking, and not trusting the bike to cover up any mistakes I might make.
At this point, I started feeling guilty for my transgression, for having cheated. The touch of another lover had soured me on my first love, and I couldn't look at the 675 in the same way again. Which is not to say that I am not still enamored of the Triumph, far from it! This is just to say that the Firebolt showed me an alternate motorcycling reality, one in which my motorcycle skills were broadened and expanded by the bike, rather than scoffed at and ultimately inhibited by my own fears. The Triumph is a bike you approach (or at least, I approach) on bended knee, cowering in the face of its abilities and its single-mindedness, while the Buell is even more single-minded, yet somehow uplifting, asking you to ride with it on an adventure together. Well, that sounds pretty sappy, but at this moment, I don't have any other good way to describe it, and this post is getting excessively long.
Hopefully I can put a used Firebolt in my garage sometime in the near future, as I really liked that bike, and I really like the fact that it's American and distinctive. In the meantime, I'll definitely go back for another demo day next time Buell comes back to the Bay Area, and if they come to your area, give them a shot, you won't regret it.
Yeah, I'm happy on "my" Firebolt - mass centralization rawks!
