Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1990's

Tour de C ycleNews t was time. Time to ge t out o f th e office and go riding. You'd think that over the holiday sea so n w e would've had plenty of time to catch up on that lost roosting o r pe g-scraping time - after all, most of us ar e guaranteed at least a few days off d uri ng the ho lidays. The holid ays? Where'd they go? One minute I'm eating turkey at my in-laws' and watching the Lions beat up on the Vikin gs and the next thing ya know my boss is handing ou t W-2 forms. It's January already and 1 only went riding once, thanks to the u sual and never-e n d ing holiday commitments . You might s ay 1 w a s grumbling about this unfortunate fact as 1 dragged m y fee t into th e office on January 3. However, 1 wasn't the only o ne complaining of the lack of rid ing time d ur ing the ho lidays; so we re all of my associates. There was only one cure for ou r New Year's blues. It was time for a staff rid e. The last tim e we all got out on the highway and looked for adventure wa s ov er five years ago w hen we all rode dual 'spo rt bikes, but this tim e w e w anted to do so methi ng different. " H ow about a full -on stre e t ride?" suggeste d Paul Carruthers, our editor and resident road race guy. This idea se n t s hive rs up Chris [onnum ' s a nd Donn Maeda's backs. Both Chris (an offroad addi ct) and Donn (a motocross junkie) would just as soon clean air filters or edit race reports all day than rid e street bikes. Well, almost. However, Mark Hoyer; our copy editor, w as raring to go - after all, he hadn't been o n a street bik e fo r quite so me time. A glance at his brand-new Freddie Spencer-replica helmet might give yo u an idea just how long ago that was. (You I 8 can o n ly im agine ho w h a p py he w as after finding out that Spen cer h ad just inked a deal with Fast By Ferraci Du cati . " My helmet won't look so out dated an y m ore," he s a id. ) Th e se da y s , Mark s pe nds most o f his time working the bugs out of the cooling system in his '69 Jagu ar. And then there's Scott Rou sseau , ou r ass ista nt ed itor. He was a pla yer as we ll. Heck, he'll rid e any thi ng on two wh eels, e ve n lowe ri ng h imself to 's p eed w ay bikes. As for myself, 1 liked Pau l's suggestion. Sure, .I mi ght be a d irt bike guy at heart, but 1 enjoy rid ing street bikes as much as any one. . " Hey, let's take th is thi ng one ste p further," so meone sai d . After toying with man y ideas, it w as decided that instead of the six of us all riding sportbikes, or all custom bik es, or a ll t ou rin g bikes, w e w ould in st ead ga ther a varie ty of mach in es . An d w e would incl ude six different manufacturers to really round o u t the package. What we ended up wi th was potp ourri of m achines, in cluding a touring bike (H arley-Davi dson Heri tage Softail Classic); a cruiser (Honda Sha dow American Classic ); a spo rts ter (BMW Rll OOR); an entry-level s portbike (Yama ha Seca II); a middlewe igh t spo rtbike (Suzuki RF600), and one o pen-class sport-touring/hype r bike (Ka w asa ki ZX -ll ). With s uch a wid e variety of mot orcycles and rid ers of varying skill levers and stree t rid ing ex pe rie n ce, w e w ere g ua ra n tee d a n interesting ride. The next obs tacle was the wea ther.' . The telev ision new s calle d it, "The worst flooding to hi t California in 50 years," so at least we cou ld n't be justly called "fa ir w eather riders" for putting our ride on ho ld for a cou ple d ays. After keeping a close eye on the w eath er reports, it wa s decid ed th at Tu esday would be the da y - com e rain o r sh ine. Obvi ou sly, cabin fever had found its w ay into all of us. Airport cafes, there' s noth ing lik e 'e m, and that's why we ag reed to meet at Bob' s Chile Chow Hall at the Corona . Airport for breakfa st. Mark beat us all there o n the BMW, and when 1 got there nex t, a bout 10 m inute s later o n th e RF600, he was still tha wing out follow- . ing his 3D-min u te rid e in the 4O-deg ree tempera tures. " It's c-e-o-old," he said . "Cold? Wh at do yo u mean, cold," 1 snickere d w hile unpluggin g my cozy, one- piece elect ric riding sui t. Then Chris drove up wi th the Seca II in the back of his truck. "Yeah, 1 roll ed m y w indo w d own a bou t an inch and alm ost fro ze," sa id Chris. " I im med iately ro lled it up. Brrrrrr. You guys are nuts for ridi ng out here." Being the rookie of our litll e trip, l had entertained hopes of "blending in" with as litll e notice as possibl e, but such ideas were soon fl ushed befor e the ride eve n slarted. The previous day , Kit had given me directions to our rendezvou s, Ihen added, "We' ll meet arou nd eight in the morning. " That seemed simple enough - too easy for even me to screw up; after all, I'd met fri ends for dirt rides bef ore, and' was usually prompt. As it turn ed out, however , tardin ess wasn't rhe part' had to worry about ; in fact, , was one of th e firs t peop le to the resta ura nt , rolli ng up in my trucl, we ll wit hi n t he acceptab le limits. But with the subsequent ar rival of eac h of th e o the rs, ca me th e embarrassing reali:::aiion Ihal road enlhusi asts ride motorcycles 10 their outings - not j ust on Ihem. , was any lhing bUI cool as , unloaded the tru sly lillle Seca II from Ihe By Kit Palmer· Photos by Paul Carruthers and Chris Jonnum back of my Nissan. But at leasI , could f ed my fingers . Ch ris [ onn um The first words to com e out of Paul ' s mouth when he rode up on the American Classic were, " I think my fingertips are bleeding it's so cold." Scott wa s nonchalant about the frost y conditions. "Yeah, it' s kind of cold ." I'm no big slud, but I can usually do a good job of pretending Ihal , can lake whalever hardships are dished our to me. BUI Ihe arctic wind thaI met us in Sanla Ana Canyon on the ' -91 really made me Ihink twice aboul lurning back. "Il could be worse," , muttered to myself belween chattering leelh, " I could be Paul." At leasl , was somewhal protected behind the windscreen of the mighty Ninja, but ' can't imagine how the boss must have fel t meeling MOlher Nalure's breath head on aboard the S hadow Classic . Yet, when we reached the Maple Stree t exit to get to the airport, , glanced over and saw him smiling . under his helmel. , couldn't believe itl Only when we reached our deslination did' discov er thaI it wasn'l a smile. bUI ra lher clenched leelh that had been fro::: en in place by the sub-zero wind chill. . Sco tt Rousseau No sign of Donn ye t. Those of y ou who have wives and children know what it's like when they stand at the garag e door. waving goodby e as if they'll never see you again. My fa mily was doi ng just th at the mo rning of our liule ride. ' f ind it amazi ng that ' can ju mp on an airp lane and head for Laguna Seca for a day of race track tesling arulthe fami ly acls like I've ju sl depart ed for a day at t he beach. BUI when the motorcycle is actually ridden from th e garage for a rendezvous

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