(first posted 12/10/2011) We had a few long motorcycle trips under our belt in 1997 when my friend Bill and I came up with the idea of riding out to British Columbia and flying home. It seemed like an ideal setup; my cousin in BC agreed to store the bikes, and Greyhound Air was providing inexpensive service between Hamilton and Kelowna. The return leg of our round trip tickets could be used the following year to do the same trip backwards and bring the bikes home. Notice the use of the word “could”; some adventures are best left without attempting a sequel.
My newlywed wife Lynn and I tuned up our trusty Honda Silver Wing, and figured out where to tie on a tent and some sleeping bags. Bill could not bear to leave his machine behind a shed for a year so he purchased one just for the trip. He went out and bought a 1980 Honda CB900 with a ten-speed transmission and aftermarket exhaust that made it sound like a Chevette without a muffler. The fourth to complete our group was Dawn, who was doing some traveling, needed a ride to the west coast and thought the experience would be fun. We all booked a week off work, and with our return flight on Sunday afternoon we had 9 days to get there. It seemed like plenty of time, at the time.
Leaving our place in Hamilton on Friday afternoon, we were excited at the prospect of seeing the country and anticipating some great times and adventures. It was long after dark by the time we rolled up to Bill’s family cottage near Tobermorey, but we managed to get up in time to catch to first daily run of the Chi-Cheemaun ferry. Every motorcyclist should make this voyage at least once, somehow the context of a trip makes boats and motorcycles compliment each other perfectly. We tied up below deck and sang the Love Boat song as Southern Ontario receded from sight. After breakfast and a few strolls around the deck it was time to untie and join the stampede. Manitoulin Island gets far less attention than it deserves from the ferry traffic, most of which charges off the boat on the quickest possible route to Iron Bridge and beyond. This time we did too, Northern Ontario beckoned and the TransCanada stretched out ahead of us.
The Government of Ontario plays a cruel joke on travelers who use their provincial maps. The Northern Ontario portion of the map is of a different scale than the Southern part so that vast distances look deceptively short. Somewhere between Wawa and Dryden the shortcomings of our planning began to sink home as we realized how big Ontario actually is. In addition to not truly grasping what we’d signed up for, our motorcycles could hardly have been more mismatched. The wind buffeting over our un-faired Silver Wing limited our cruising speed to 110km/h at which point the motor was buzzing away at 6000rpm. The really good thing about the Silver Wing was its range, over 300km before we hit reserve. Bill’s CB900 had smooth four-cylinder power and better wind protection that made high speeds easy, but the small tank and thirsty engine limited the range to about 180km. Bill had been cautioned about the scarcity of gas stations along our route. He took this advice to heart and usually stopped at the first chance over 130km. Subsequently whether we were moving or stopped, someone was getting frustrated over our lack of progress.
Dryden turned out to be a haven. A friend had volunteered his parents’ house as a place to stay, and we had expected a floor to sleep on and little else. On arrival we were flabbergasted to find that our hosts had gotten the good dishes out and put on a full dinner for four tired, rumpled and smelly people they had never met. After an evening of great food and great company we headed off to comfy beds. As far as we can tell Dryden has our nation’s friendliest people.
After reluctantly leaving the next morning I watched Dawn attempt to read the road map while at highway speed on the back of Bill’s bike. She began carefully unfolding until the wind took over, finished the unfolding for her, and then ripped the map out of her hands. The paper sailed past my head and was gone. I braked to the side of the highway and looked back just in time to see our map speed by fully spread out on the front of an 18-wheeler! It roared down the hill, around the corner and was gone again. We gave chase and eventually recovered half the map at the side of the road, which turned out to be the half we needed.
Miles of muddy Ontario construction finally gave way to a divided four-lane highway at the Manitoba border, and reaching Portage La Prairie we camped out for the first time. It rained, and here we learned that after all day on a motorcycle the last thing you want to do is sleep on the hard wet ground. My normally cheery wife exploded with anger, her adventurous vacation had become a grueling ordeal. Too much togetherness was not a good thing, and Bill and Dawn were not getting along either. Barely acquaintances before the trip, they quickly found that they had little in common and by this point could hardly stand the sight of each other, which creates problems when you’re sharing a motorcycle.
Back on the road, our poky top speed and leisurely gas stops continued to be the greatest obstacles to covering ground. By the time we filled up, checked oil, had bathroom breaks and snacks, located everyone and checked our route, pit stops were approaching half an hour. This was definitely not to competition standards. Bill was still learning the quirks of the CB900, which inexplicably used 2 liters of oil in one day, and not a drop for the rest of the trip. On the bright side the bikes were otherwise trouble free and the weather was good. Despite what some say, the prairies were actually quite pleasant to cross, the gently rolling terrain and unrestricted views a welcome change from endless rocks and trees.
Having learned our lesson about camping, we checked into a comfortable hotel in Regina just as the hotel across the street caught fire. As sirens screamed and smoke rolled up from the roof, the flashing sign out front continued to advertise non-smoking rooms. “I bet they’re all smoking now”, Bill said. The next morning Bill wasn’t feeling well and slept in. This gave us time to dry Manitoba’s water out of the camping gear and wash Ontario’s dirt off the bikes. Underway about noon, we were falling behind schedule but still hoped to be in Calgary that night. The rest of the day went by in a blur and we crossed the Alberta border with a mood of grim determination.
Gassing up about 2 hours out of Calgary, Bill was showing signs of exhaustion, and we inquired about local accommodation. The attendant told us that the next town down the road had a hotel. Bill figured he could drive the half hour so we paid up and headed out. Arriving at the town, we realized that the aforementioned establishment was actually a tavern and had not been used as a hotel proper for some time. Bill by this point was shaking and incoherent so we really had a problem on our hands, particularly since the entire town appeared to be drunk at 8pm on a Wednesday night. We considered our two choices; we could either check Bill into the local RCMP detachment (the only safe location in town) or try to make Strathmore where there were actual hotels.
Lynn had only recently gotten her motorcycle beginners license and was justifiably nervous at the helm of a fully loaded touring bike with a very ill passenger. Dawn weighed less, but Lynn wanted to take Bill with her if she crashed. So that she wouldn’t have to balance at stop intersections I rode ahead on Bill’s cycle and waved her through. Pulling back onto the TransCanada we were treated to a spectacular prairie sunset, but this did little to ease our apprehension as we rode on into the gathering darkness. After an hour that seemed like an eternity we arrived in Strathmore. Lynn managed to dock the SilverWing without incident and we carried off the barely conscious Bill. Once in the hotel the ladies let me know in no uncertain terms that I was in charge of my shivering, drooling friend and left the room. I stripped him to his skivvies, stuffed him into a hot bath and held the bucket for him while he was sick. Once put in a bed he slept motionless for 12 hours and to this day remembers little of the entire incident.
The next morning was a turning point. We had bottomed out and there was nowhere to go but up. Bill made a quick recovery and by afternoon we were winding our way into the Rockies. After so many days and so many mishaps, finally we had arrived. The SilverWing struggled a bit under the uphill grades and stiff headwind, but the fresh air and beautiful views made us all glad we had brought motorcycles. Camping out for the next two nights, we found it sufficiently chilly that we didn’t have to undress from our riding gear to sleep. Time was short, but we made some scenic side trips and in places drove by snow at the side of the road. Lynn took pictures from the back of the speeding cycle, and got a couple of good shots of sights that lasted but a few seconds. In what seemed like no time at all we had crested Rogers Pass and began the long downhill trip towards our destination in the Okanagan Valley.
Finishing a great traveling day we pulled into the Hot Springs Resort where we had made reservations. All day we had dreamed of basking in the hot springs, so it was a major disappointment to find out that our hot spring was an artificially heated and salted pool. We soon got over our disappointment, as it was just the thing for our sore bodies. The campground was conveniently located right next to the main CPR line, and straining freight trains thundered by our tents all night. It may have been a hint to take the train next time. We staggered out bleary eyed in the morning for a beautiful but brief hike in Glacier National Park before getting back on the road.
Saturday evening we arrived in Kelowna, 9 days and 4500km after we started. The bikes were stashed behind the shed and covered. My cousin and his family were gracious hosts and didn’t ask too many questions about what had happened. First thing in the morning Dawn struck out for the bus station on foot, I don’t think she could get away from us fast enough. The trip home was a lot quicker and less tiring thanks to Greyhound Airlines, and once again western Canada was laid out for our viewing. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to top Bill for illness, but the following week I came down with mononucleosis and was mostly unconscious for a full month.
Understandably, the following year nobody had any enthusiasm for completing the second half of the adventure, so the bikes were shipped back east and eventually sold. Bill and I went on to better motorcycles and more successful trips. Lynn remained my wife but developed a knee-jerk response of “No!” to my motorcycle trip ideas. For our 10th wedding anniversary she planned a very pleasant trip. It was to Cuba, and there were no motorcycles involved. Greyhound Airlines went out of business within a year. As for Dawn, we never saw her again so I’m not sure if she fully recovered.
Even as it turned out, seeing a big part of our beautiful country by motorcycle was still an awesome experience. I would recommend a cross-country journey to any Canadian motorcyclist, just remember that when your motorcycle trip goes bad you may not have fun, or even go home with your health.
Regardless of what happened we still have the experience, and we can retell the stories and share a laugh with good friends and family, this makes the whole thing worthwhile.
I drove that stretch of the TCH west from Toronto once, in a Peugeot 504. Two lanes, trees, trees, trees. Nothing but two lanes and trees. Then two lanes and Sudbury, followed by two lanes and trees, trees, more trees. No mountains, just trees. A peek at the lake once in awhile. Then more trees.
By the end of Lake Superior this two-year-old Peugeot decided it needed a valve job, which it got in Thunder Bay. At that point, to hell with the Peugeot, and the TCH, that year anyway. Stopped in St. Paul overnight to get the head re-torqued, left it with my folks in Indiana, and flew to Vancouver.
Taking that trip on a bike boggles the mind. That is one hell of a story, Doug.
PS: Nobody nominated a Peugeot for the Coast-to-Coast Classic.
Two-up on a Silver Wing. Damn! I’ve always felt that the Silver Wing was one of the better one-up tourers ever made, but it was a bike where the pillion seat should be snapped off and replaced with the integral top box. That bike is just too bloody small and underpowered for a couple.
I had to laugh as soon as I read about the CB900 with the ten speed transmission. The CB900C was a pretty good bike for bar hopping and Friday night cruising, but the thought of doing long distance with 80’s Japanese cruiser ergonomics makes my Springer Softail feel like a Gold Wing by comparison. And that dual ratio rear end was their height of Japanese technological uselessness.
Then again, 35 years ago I was doing trips like that on a caffed CB350. Of course, being 35 years younger (and stupider) helped.
Reminds me of the book “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintainence”. I haven’t traveled via motos, but have taken the same kinds of trips in old, sometimes in old, unusual cars, like my present Saab 96. I recall trips from Albuquerque, to Texas through the two lane, lonely mountain roads of southern, NM, where one could drive for miles without seeing another car. The passes were as high as 7600 feet, and it took a lot of gear shifting to maintain speed with that V4. Of course it broke down, but getting
it get it back on the road was half the fun
Yes.
That was exactly what I was thinking of, in 1986, when I made my first attempt at a long road trip. Like Robert Pirsig, I had cobwebs to clear out of my head; unlike him, I was going alone, hoping to maybe find a group on the road to travel with.
Unlike him, I had a disaster – second day out. Run off the road by a driver pulling a boat-trailer, who ran a stop sign, panicked, and hit the brakes – putting a barricade up in front of me at 50 miles an hour.
That day was the last time on a bike for 22 years.
Well I can lay claim to having traveled coast to coast on a bicycle.
55 miles. In Panama. I think the trip you took would have been great but my wife is like yours. No to road trips on a bike.
I did drive from victoria to whatever is just east of glacier national park. Dropped down and went to yellowstone. That was in June and there was still snow all over the ground. I think I will pass on any similar adventures but my hat is off to you.
I did much of that trip hitchhiking in 1973. I did get a ride on a motorcycle from Wawa to Thunder Bay. A few rides stand out, but the day going east across Saskatchewan was a wild one. It took about ten rides to get across, all little wee ones, but I made good time.
In Winnipeg, I was dropped off at Portage and Main, and being from a small town I decided to walk. Duh. A little old man and little old lady in a Valiant stopped, without me hitchhiking, and gave me a ride to the bypass.
In Thunder Bay, I was walking along the bypass and came upon a parked Car. An early seventies Ford wagon, canoe on the roof packed with stuff, the back packed with stuff and a very harried looking mother dealing with three pre-teens. I just walked by. She asked me where I was going. “Ottawa”. “Well, so am I, hop in!” We drove from Thunder Bay to Iroquois Falls, camped somewhere in the bush, and the next day she dropped me off right next to the Chateau Laurier, where I wanted to go.
It’s a heck of a trip. Thanks for the story.
You’re welcome. I actually wrote this about 5 years ago because we started rememiscing one night and went “holy cow, did all that crap actually happen?”
Man, that rings memories on so MANY levels!
I owned, for a brief time, a Silver Wing. Great bike; except it was 28 years old when I bought it, and owing to its small production run, Honda had closed the book on it for parts. And I needed brakes and other parts.
And I’ve done the cross-country thing…in 2009, on my BMW. Thought it would be great to run across Canada from International Falls to Vancouver.
Never got further west than Banff…long story, that; and I had to return.
And, YES – camping and biking do NOT go together well, not if you’re over 30 and on a vacation. You can do it…sure. You’ll be somewhere between uncomfortable and sore, and wet and miserable. It’s a vacation! Get a room! You’re not living there; a few extra hundred bucks for good lodging will make the difference between an experience you remember forever; and a nightmare and marriage-ruination.
Thirty years ago I tried to do it, the first time; traveling on a Yamaha SR500. Camping gear, if you’re packed adequately, is pretty bulky. Once you’ve done it, and proven to yourself you can…it’s so much of a relief to just pack a few changes of clothes and a shaving kit and a credit card, and go lightly – and in comfort.
Last thought: A trip like this, as you say, is a way to learn about your companions like no other. For some, it’s a tremendous bonding. For others, it’s an experience…remembered and talked about, and never repeated. For others, it’s a nightmare that leaves the participants fleeing in all directions, swearing never to speak again. And for some, it shows them as day-riders – or gets them off bikes.
Re: Parts for a GL500. Sometime during it’s sales life, the CX500 and GL500 (Silver Wing) had a cam chain recall. We’re talking split the cases and a halfway teardown on the engine. Now, this was classified by the NHTSA as a safety recall which means there’s no closing date, and the manufacturer must keep recall parts in stock . . . . . . . forever.
This past summer, a customer shows up on an old Silver Wing with the computer print out of the recall notice, claiming his bike never had it done. We go diving into Honda’s computer records and found out, sure enough, it never was done. Which means we’ve got to get the (rather extensive) parts kit.
Honda had it. In Japan. It took six weeks, but we got the kit, pulled down the guy’s engine, and did the work. Personally, I think we had some sharp cookie that figured out how to get some free engine work done on the bike – he certainly wasn’t the original owner. We couldn’t even tell how many owners that bike had in between, and guess he’d bought it (given it’s age and condition) for something like $500.
There’s still some parts available for the V-twin. Mechanical parts, only. If you need any kind of tinware, forget it.
It’s a poorly kept secret that for some reason Honda Canada still has a great parts stash for these bikes. I was able to buy new correct Sankei mufflers for my GL in 1997 and when I owned a CX500 3 years ago I had no trouble getting parts for it.
The timing chain is only one of the fatal flaws of the CX/GL series (others being lack of a 6th gear and charging/ignition system failure) but mine always seemed Ok.
Oh, yeah – in Europe those bikes were well-loved and bulletproof. I understand in the UK, police used the CX-500 as their ride.
But in the States…the GL-500 was conceived as a Baby Gold Wing. It had all the styling cues – a Vetter-style fairing; the fiberglass cases. It was supposed to look bigger and heaver than it really was – the perfect bike for the fuel crisis of 1979.
Which came and went by the time the GL-500 came to market.
It really was a totally acceptable, yet totally compromised hybrid. It wasn’t big enough for two-up on long trips; not if you were big Americans. It was too high and heavy to be a sports bike. The fuel economy hovered around the high 40s; not enough to make it an economy champ.
It was too big to be a go-to-the-store ride. It was too small for meaningful cross country trips…anyway, the factory molded-fiberglass luggage sure was.
And in the end, it had too few interested. It was pulled in 1985.
I don’t know the official story. In the area I was in at the time, South Dakota, the Honda shops there all told me the same: the book was closed; parts were not available; Honda reserves the right after ten years.
Had I gone to Canada; had I the CHANCE to go to Canada (or call) I might have gotten a different response. But I didn’t; and by that time I decided I was tired of wasting money on other people’s junk.
I bought that BMW. Heavy on the price; but it’s reliable – and it looks like it will keep its resale value, unlike most bikes.
In 1997 i took my cx 500 turbo for a trip from montreal to L.A. and back in 21 days. the only trouble a got whit that turbo was that at every 40000 km the strator cook in is oil and it cost $ 800 to réplace . but that byke is still the love of my life and if it wasn’ t for the lack of part i would still drive across América whit it. And yes i still have her ,
she is now a 72,000 km. Luc 2016 .
Not really. After years riding cruisers around town, it wasn’t until my 50s that I got into long distance moto-camping via liter-plus sport-touring bike and I’ve loved every minute of it. I’ve done several cross country US trips, one 8500 miler from the Midwest to the southern tip of Baja Mexico and back, and the summer I turned 50, an epic month-long, 12,000 mile moto-camping trip from the Midwest to the Artic Circle in Alaska (the Haul Road north of Fairbanks), then to LA, Phoenix, and back across the US to home. I sleep just as well if not better on those trips as I do at home, the secret is having the proper equipment. Most critical are a decent dome tent and an air mattress with a power inflator. Another secret to enjoying the trip is going alone, since it’s rare to have two people with the exact same tolerance for heat, cold, rain, fatigue, and distance. The adventures I’ve had on that bike are priceless and I hope to have more while I’m still able to ride.
Thank you for this ! .
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I doubt I’ll ever again Moto Camp but I do still like to ride in spite of the pain .
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-Nate
Wow! Great story. Am way too much of a wimp to emulate it, and frankly was even more of a wimp in my youth, but sure enjoyed reading it! Literally LOLd . Thanks!
Your story reminded how much BETTER it is to travel cross-country in a motorcar! My dad is from Clearwater, Manitoba, and we traveled a few times up to Canada (the family emigrated to the US in 1922)… Lots of pretty scenery, but wow… it is so much easier to pull over in your car, click the seat back, pull a down comforter over yourself, and SLEEP… It seems like, whenever I’ve camped, we have always set up the tent in the dark…ugh… As one of the previous commentators stated: It is so much easier to just stay at a hotel, whilst driving (or riding) cross continent.
Rocks and trees…, trees and rocks… My company does business at a mine in Red Lake Ontario (300km north of Vermillion Bay/Kenora). Sometimes for service jobs someone will decide to drive this from Toronto. The driving time is 22 hours. This is the same as from Toronto to Florida. To drive from the Quebec border to the Manitoba border across Ontario would take longer than this. All of western Europe would fit comfortably within Ontario. BTW Red Lake is gorgeous in the summer. It is like Muskoka without the people.
Fantastic write up. I’d love to do a cross country drive although probably by classic car instead of bike but I will likely have to wait until my kids are much older.
I acquired a 1966 ‘project’ BMW R27 in 1980. Thought I would restore it and make occasional trips to my folks in Virginia Beach. But I had nowhere safe to park it at my apartment, and my boss wouldn’t let me keep it at work, so it wound up stored in a friend’s carport on a dead-end street. Fixed it up some, and sneaked rides on it for a couple years. Then got caught out in a cold rain one afternoon and discovered I wasn’t really ‘biker’ material. Traded it to a friend and replaced it with a ‘fixer’ ’67 Sunbeam Alpine that was a much better fit for me.
Wonder if my 1982 coast to coast road-trip in a ’71 Audi Super-90 wagon would be of any interest here?
Happy Motoring, Mark
Mark……
In regard to your 71 Audi Super 90, I also had a red S-90 2dr sedan in the mid 70s
The super 90 was a rare car, not many imported so I was told.
It was kind of a fragile car, the C-V joints were a real week point.
I do rem. it had front inboard disc brakes.
I only ever saw one other non running parked at the curb in Chicago long ago.
My Audi – when it was good, it was wonderful. When it was bad… well it was the most trouble-prone car I’ve ever owned. But no serious problems on my 7000 mile round-trip to the west coast in 1982. Lack of parts finally finished it off in the early ’90s.
Maybe someone can do a Curbside Classic on the Super 90 someday.
Happy Motoring, Mark
I’m so glad this was reposted- I missed it the first time around. A really enjoyable article.
This is one of those life experiences that is probably filed under “No regrets, glad I did it, and hell no never again.” We all probably have a few of those. I know I do.
Only driven sorta kinda cross country once, but in a car and only from Chicago to Portland. Great experience, but probably filed in the above bin.
For me, about 2 hours at a time is about my limit on a motorcycle, although said motorcycle was a 250cc. 9000 RPM is probably a slight fatigue factor.
I would do one day 1,000 mile rides on my Ninja 250. That it was surprisingly comfortable and was able to cruise at 75-80 helped. The last two hours home were always a slog though. And usually around 11pm or midnight.
I took a similar cross country trip but across the continental US (Central NY to SF and back) in 2008, with my brother and 3 friends. All on cheap old Japanese bikes (bought for between $50 and $1000). Memories for a lifetime. I wrote up a trip report on AdventureRider:
http://advrider.com/index.php?threads/cross-country-on-a-50-bike-ny-sf-and-back.366117/
Looks like the images have all gone down, will have to rehost them some time.
My one friend was on a CX500, which proved to be overall the most troubleprone bike of the bunch (stator and ignition module issues), although my XS500 needed a engine teardown in Kansas to clean the valves off (low compression on one cylinder). We also had a TX500 along on the trip (swapped to a later-model one-piece XS500 head) that just needed a valve adjustment and an oil filter to replace a leaky one. A KZ650 that had voltage regulator issues (overcharging the battery) and coils/wires that would cause misfires in the rain. By the end of the trip with the CX500 not charging at all, and the KZ650 overcharging, we’d simply swap batteries twice a day to keep both bikes going. FInally my brother’s Seca 750, easily the most powerful and reliable bike of the trip. His only issue was a broken fuse holder that stopped him cold one afternoon (known Yamaha weak spot), but an easy roadside repair. he also had a major goof: noticed his bike was running super rich at the end of a long day of riding in Oregon, starts ripping the carbs apart in the parking lot of the shady cash-only motel we were staying at. He’s blipping the throttle, trying to figure things out, the motel owner threatened to kick us out. Finally he realizes his choke was on! I think we were all pretty burned out on the back leg of that trip (39 days on the road total).
Thanks for linking to that, enjoying it quite a bit as I’ve toured a bit in my time.
Albeit solo. Touring with four friends must be fantastic!
Glad you liked it Michael! My writing and story-telling skills have progressed a fair amount since then (or so I’d like to think), but it gets the point across well enough. I definitely miss touring. I’m in my late 20s now, married, have a house and career, about to start a family. The next time I’ll realistically be able to take another trip like this is when my future children are grown and out of the house!
I really should rehost those images at least, since I know at least one person out on the internet is enjoying reading that old tale 🙂
Appreciate you giving an update 8 years on. I like a happy ending!
When I was 19 I rode home to LA on a KZ400 I purchased in Tyler, TX. Solo, 1600 miles across the desert with only a learners permit. What could go wrong?
Nothing, just as I expected:-)
Good times!
Have had numerous bikes and tours since then, though currently bikeless. Have been considering a 2004-6 Sportster though…
Back to reading you and ur bros report in 3, 2, 1…
“I would recommend a cross-country journey to ANY motorcyclist”… there, FIFY. Hopefully soon I’ll have the vacation time available to take a cross-country trip.
What a great article, photos and comments ~
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My Son had a ’79 (?) CX500 base model on brown, we got lucky, it was stone reliable ~ to fix the alternator stator problem one needs to take the engine apart .
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I’d love to read about the Audi S90 Wagon trip, I’m sure you could fill it out with details of the road side fun you had with it .
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Due to my Moto collision injuries I can’t make more than two maybe three hours on a bike anymore, more’s the pity as he V.J.L.A.’s annual Death Valley trip is coming up and I’d love to ride .
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Agreed these long trips by Moto, Automobile or Truck can be real deal breakers with your friends and S.O.’s .
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-Nate
I can relate to your Northern Ontario experience. I drove across the country from Halifax to Vancouver years ago. It took three long days to drive across Ontario – and then only three more to reach Vancouver.
But I found the north shore of Lake Superior the most memorable part of the trip, maybe because of all the Group of Seven/Tom Thomson paintings that seemed to hang in every school classroom when I was growing up.
I’ve only just come across this in a link from https://www.curbsideclassic.com/uncategorized/basement-find-1984-honda-motorcycle-poster/
I drove from Toronto to Vancouver in a car, and I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to do it on a motorbike. But I did have an old CX500 Custom when I first came to London, and I rode it to Italy and back twice. The attached pic is on the second outbound trip over the Alps.
On the second return trip the rear wheel bearings had to be replaced in southern France, and by the time I got back to northern France the engine sounded worryingly like a diesel – but it did get me back to London and I managed to sell the bike and return to university.