The 2009 Suzuki TU250, a simple little bike
If I were a more intelligent person I would have determined what sort of motorcycling I liked before buying a single machine. Unfortunately I’m not intelligent, which is obvious because it’s taken lots of motorcycle purchases for me to begin to dial in to my motorcycling style. For most riders there’s an incremental progression from lighter, less powerful bikes to heavier, more powerful ones. I’ve seen the process happen over and over again. People move up to more weight and more power. But historically I haven’t been that way. I’ve never owned a bike with more than 85 horsepower or 700cc, and more and more I like smaller, lighter (and often slower) motorcycles. This year alone I’ve bought two 250s, and those two bikes are far less powerful than bikes I bought before.
So I got to thinking when I read Peter Jones’ article in the current Cycle World magazine (December 2010) about his recent purchase of a 1975 Honda CB200. His bike has a tiny 200cc engine which couldn’t possibly make more than 15 horsepower. Probably less. He thought, before riding the bike, that riding it wouldn’t be worth it because it was so underpowered. It would only be worth only the novelty of riding it. But once underway he noted, “I realized that with every bike I’ve ridden in my life, from bored-out ‘Busas to tricked-out Bimotas to full-race Yamaha R1s and everything in between, all I’ve been doing is trying to relive the visceral excitement of my first day on a motorcycle, that magic moment of turning a throttle and being effortlessly rushed into the wind, flying down the road breast to breeze, naked and powerful all at once like a superhero…I’d been searching for it by racing, by riding bikes with huge horsepower, by going crazy speeds–trying to force the moment back with a ham fist when all it needed was a gentle twist on a little bike on a sunny day.”
And that sentiment, I think, is something that’s become apparent with my motorcycling style, something that I’ve felt for some time. Often too much thrust can drown out the simple thrill that is motorcycling. It becomes a thrill ride. I worry that too many motorcyclists, including myself, ride fast or heavy bikes because we want to show that we’re the biggest, baddest rider on the road. I think that mentality misses the whole point of riding, for me at least. I should care less about what others’ think and more about what I actually enjoy. Others might truly enjoy superlative machines, which is fine by me, but I’m discovering that it’s not my thing.
This is why my bikes are still small and light. A big part of my recent interest in the Ryca CS-1 cafe racer is the smallish 650 single and 320 pound weight. It’s a cool bike that should allow me to have fun while still enjoying the purity of motorcycling. This isn’t to say that there’s nothing comfortable about riding a full-dress Harley or fun about riding a race-spec superbike, but these rides seem to be missing something. All I can figure is that they’re equipped with everything but simplicity. And when it comes to motorcycles, simplicity is the most important component.