travel

A short tale by a volcanic refugee

On a recent business trip to London, I found myself trapped by a volcanic eruption. Iceland was spewing volcanic ash into the atmosphere and it was preventing me from returning home to my family. It was the first time I realized how much I took travel for granted, especially flight. Anyway, I became very restless and decided that I needed to get off the island.

So began my journey as a volcanic refugee. I tried desperately to order train tickets to Paris online but every time I got to the checkout screen their system would crash. So I packed up my computer and walked to Kings Cross station to find myself in the longest line (cue as they say in England) of my life. I waited three hours to get to the front of the line. Met a girl in line from Australia also trying to get to Paris so that she could continue her journey to Turkey where should would meet her boyfriend. I was able to get a ticket on the 5am train the day after next. From Paris, I would make my way to Rome through a series of connections that took me through rural France, Switzerland and Northern Italy to an overnight stay in Milan. It took 14 hours to get to Milan because one of the trains was the milk run and stopped every 20 minutes in Switzerland. What a beautiful place though, I have never seen the Alps before and they are definitely impressive. Worthy of a return trip for certain. Anyway, the next day I caught my train to Rome where I would eventually connect with my flight back to Toronto via Frankfurt.

I was only in Rome for 1 day so I decided to jump on the double decker tourist bus that gave me the 4 hour tour of Rome including the Vatican. St. Peters Basilica gave me an appreciation for why the Italians do the best stone work in the world. I have never seen so much opulence in my life. But somehow it made sense to be there. Anyway, to my point of being disappointed by a landmark that I had never seen in person - After seeing the movie Gladiator, the CGI special effects spoiled my visit to the Coliseum. I expected something more spectacular. I know it’s a ruin but I found it paled in comparison to my perception from the recreation in the film. Hollywood had screwed with my brain.

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If you’re a motorcycle touring enthusiast or just simply love the romantic idea of traveling solo by motorcycle through foreign lands, meeting new people and experiencing life on their terms then you’ll love this book - One More Day Everywhere: Crossing 50 Borders on the Road to Global Understanding. I recently discovered Glen Heggstad, a former Hells Angels member and martial arts champion who decided to pick up and tour the world on a 650cc BMW Dakar.

I really enjoyed his book and find his writing style very lucid and fluid. He seems very genuinely concerned about the preconceived notions that people develop through the media. He set out on his latest journey with the intentions of meeting the inhabitants of earth face-to-face, look them in the eye, and shake their hand. He proves that although governments don’t get along, people do.

Glen’s odyssey took 2 years and 80,000 kms to complete and takes him from Vladivostok on the edge of the Russian Far East to the heart of Africa and back to California and just about everywhere in between. A well documented trip with lots of detail and some hairy moments. A definite must for the adventure travel enthusiast. Check out his web site and follow some of his other pursuits.

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I recently returned from a business trip that had taken me to Rome (Italy, not Georgia). It was my first trip abroad since getting my motorcycle license and as a result I was acutely aware of just how many more two-wheeled machines are on the streets compared to North America. Bikes play a role in everyday life for many practical reasons. Price, fuel costs, parking and the sure ease they add to navigating a city that is thousands of years old. Though I think many of us would have some challenges understanding and accepting the rules of the road in Rome, what doesn’t seem to change is the passion riders have for their machines, the culture and the respect they have for one another– at least for the most part. As I mentioned sometimes it is just about practicality, but they don’t count.

I had decided before my trip that I was going to do one thing… Bring back some European motorcycle gear. I managed to make it to a small shop called “Good Guys Racer Store“. It is a small, but well kept shop that had some really great gear. Simone is the owner/operator and a former racer who was happy to share stories about everything from his time on the professional circuit to riding a bike in the center of Rome. As a side note, while he was riding professionally the team owners forbid him from riding in Rome due to the high risk of injury. As our conversation continued Simone let me know that the annual Rome Motorcycle Show was happening this weekend, much the dismay of my colleagues who don’t share the passion. I decided I needed to figure out how to get there at any cost.

Motodays, March 11-14 - Rome, Italy

Our Friday night thank-you dinner for our hosts was about half over when the subject of bikes and the bike show came up. I had learned earlier in the week that one of the people we had been working with was also a Triumph owner and passionate rider rather then one of the “its more convenient” types. In fact, he wasn’t just a rider, he has an entire business outside of his day to day. He restores vintage bikes, imports them, shows them www.ggarage.it generally, a whole lot more than I do. Long story short, he invited me to go with him to the show. The event took place just outside of Rome. As we approached the convention center the first thing I see is thousands of bikes in the parking lot. Bikes of all kinds. American, Japanese, Italian, British, German old and new. It was nice to see that the diversity of riders runs deep in Europe. The event itself address fans of all kinds– they had new bikes, tons of gear, even a swap meet where you could pick up vintage gas tanks, license plates and even old parts you might be looking for.

By the end of the day I can hardly wait to get home and take my bike out for a ride. My friend offers to lend me one of his for the afternoon, but after spending a fair amount of time avoiding the drivers in Rome on foot I wasn’t about to put myself in harms way.

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A ride back in time to discover the legacy of the ancient
Incas and the Spanish conquistadores, set against the
backdrop of the magnificent peaks of the Andes. A journey
that starts from the famed vineyards following the strangely
shaped desert landscapes to finally climb to the dramatic mountain passes as you make your way
to the driest desert on earth.

http://www.samttours.com

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This weekend, the Lilyboys decided to do an Autumn run to the Muskokas, the Haliburton Highlands and then a return trip via the Kawarthas. Our objective was to break-in a new member of the gang (the Chairman), and visit an old friend who’s involved in a new health care concept in northern Ontario. The first leg of our journey took us to the newly formed GreeneStone Clinic in Muskoka-4kms north of Bala, the cranberry capital of Ontario.

GreeneStone is a unique resort based medical clinic offering personal and executive health care and is home to the, ehem - “comfortable colonoscopy”. GreeneStone provides a complete assessment of your current state of health and provides education and follow up for an optimal outcome. The resort is nestled in a hillside overlooking Lake Muskoka and Sunset Bay - providing both spectacular sunsets and glorious sunrises.

If you’re looking for a stress free healthcare alternative, in a casual and intimate resort setting, then GreeneStone is definitely the option. An investment in your health is your guarantee that you do everything you can to live a healthier, longer life for you and your loved ones. Amen and Lily Approved!

Although the Lilies did not partake in any anal assaults, we were delighted by an incredible meal served up by executive chef, Derek Walton at the resorts very own first class restaurant - Lodge. We’d like to thank Eileen and her husband Shawn for their gracious hospitality and promise to spread the word of their latest project.

The Lilyboys at GreenStone in the Muskokas

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High Energy was kind enough to compile and record the soundtrack of our Portugal trip. Enjoy a little spiritual journey.

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I’d been hoping to join an accomplice on a Sunday morning ride up the 507, but bad babysitting planning on my part prevented it.

So at around 2pm yesterday I got my 1/2 day pass and rode the QEW around the Horseshoe exiting at Fruitland and along the Escarpment to Niagara-on-the-Lake and then the Falls. I had no map and don’t know the area well. Seemed like that fact might make it a slight adventure.

The Escarpment, if you don’t know, is a limestone welt that rises anywhere from 100 to several hundred feet above the ground it passes through and runs about 400km from the Niagara area to the end of the Lake Huron-Georgian Bay peninsula at Tobermory. I’ve hiked, mountain biked, climbed its rock, but never had I ridden a motor along the old ’scar.

I took the first road going up it, working east toward the Falls. That would count as the first time putting the new bike on a steep bit of switchbackery. And just when I was really starting to like it, I was up. So I found another road down and then another up, and so on for most of the day.

This bike eats the steeps like they’re gasoline pills. No grade can affect its performance. It’s a cheeky player through the corners, too. Hit a bit of sand and gravel on one curve, but kept looking to where we wanted to be going, and though both wheels shuddered and chirped an inch, they stayed true to intent. No time even to locate my fear.

But now that I know the bike really handles, as well as grunts, I guess I’m fully stoked. What else can it do, I wonder? Guess I’ll need knobbies to find that out. TransAmerica Trail, anyone? Seriously. I’d like to take a few weeks off next summer and engage that ribbon of mud and heartbreak in some light battle.

As time went on yesterday, though, my ass began to feel kicked. Tailbone seems to bottom-out on the seat after a couple of hours. It can be relieved by leaning down onto the non-gas tank on my left arm, or by adopting a perfect arched-spine sitting posture or by standing on the pegs like a twat, but these only help for so long. At some point you have to get off and walk your arse back to civility. I can’t tell if the seat is iffy or my cheeks are still in training, but I was fearsome glad to get home at 9pm and back to walking.

When I look back, it was a seven-hour ride with, at most, one of them spent off-saddle. Guess I expect too much. Fill me in, fellow F800GS owners, and others.

P.S. Niagara Falls and the grounds around it are quite nice, but what’s up with the dowtown? It’s as if they hired the worst urban planner in Nevada, fed him a few expired Oxycontin and let him go nuts. ‘Uninspired’ woefully understates that mess. And, while I’m at it, Ontario casino culture is not quite delivering the Vegas/brat-pack/black tie/bon mot/martini classes that might’ve been hoped for. More like morbid obesity meets the dacron track suit. Good luck with that, Niagara.

Paul Fenn

paulfenn.com

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In August 2009, the Lilyboys plan to ride to The Blue Ridge Parkway, a National Parkway and All-American Road in the United States, noted for its scenic beauty. It runs for 469 miles (755 km), mostly along the famous Blue Ridge, a major mountain chain that is part of the Appalachian Mountains. Land on either side of the road is maintained by the National Park Service. It is the longest, narrowest National Park in the world and is the most visited unit in the United States National Park System. In many places, the park is bordered by land protected by the United States Forest Service.

Appalachian Map

Over the next 6 weeks, we will be posting our routes, our gear list, and our planned stops. If anyone has recommendations on places to eat or stay we would love to hear from you.

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What a day! 468 kilometers of fast riding to a quaint northern village in the mountains near Porto, called Cabriz. This was the birthplace of the Don and where the Lily Boys would spend Our first 3 nights.

After landing in Lisbon at 6:30 am on Friday April 10, we enjoyed an espresso on the patio at the airport and soaked up the atmosphere before our journey. The air was crisp and the light sharp.

Our first task was to pick up the bikes. We had reserved 4 BMW R1200GS, 2 of which were the Adventure models. We met Carlos at the Hertz Rental counter and he drove us and our luggage to their pick up area 10 minutes outside of the airport.

The bikes were perfect! Mine was Practicaly new, with only 1200 kilometers on the odometer. We decided to ride the bikes to the apartment and hire a taxi to follow with our luggage. The apartment was only 15 minutes from the Hertz pick up centre and as soon as we arrived, we wasting no time unpacking our suitcases, showering, gearing up, and loading up the panniers for our seven day tour of Portugal. To be continued…

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Well, the day has finally come. Our flight departs today at 6:30pm. We arrive in Lisbon at roughly 6:00am. Our plan is to head to the apartment and drop our gear before picking up the bikes at Hertz. After we shower, have a bit of breakfast, sort through our gear, we’ll pack up the bikes and hit the road.

We will head north and knock of 2 or 300 kilometers before stopping for lunch. Our plan is to then choose a hotel to rest for the night. After a 6 hour overnight flight and a few hundred kilometers we will probably be knackered. I’ll post some more then.

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