I’m hunting for a used motorcycle. Motorcycles aren’t merely utilitarian. Thus, owning one is not fully logical. Owning two is even more illogical. The two I own are so awesome I want to own three. There’s no end to this circle. Don’t fight it, grok it.
I have a Honda Shadow ACE. It cruises all I’ll ever need to cruise. I also have a Yamaha TW200 that’s basically new despite me beating the shit out of it. That stout little critter happily pack-mules my ass into all the fun I can handle.
Yet I feel the need to add to the stable; less a thought than a calling. I sense this is a time when I can get a heck of a deal on a kind of machine that will never exist again AND it’s also a good moment to do what one “ought to do”. (Define “ought to do” anyway you wish. I’m still working on it myself.)
The world emerged from a COVID fever dream only to psychotically drag itself into the trash. Whatever motorcycles our future cockroach /AI / technocrat overlords allow to exist in our future of mud huts and electric vehicles won’t suit me. For now, the supply of old yet well maintained bikes continues existing, however improbably. It won’t last forever.
Shit often looks the worst right before total destruction fails to happen. The future is likely brighter than it seems right now. But maybe not. The only certainty is that things are increasingly uncertain and a good bike doesn’t fit with the kind of mind that eliminates incandescent lights and gas kitchen stoves.
If you knew… really honestly knew… shit was going pear shaped… would a good clean motorcycle be among your plans? Hard to say. In mine; maybe. It feels like it should. Motorcycles are freedom! Who doesn’t want a nice stockpile of freedom? (Before you rush to comment, all the stacks of ammo in Bert Gummer’s basement can’t substitute for the joy of flying over pavement in pursuit of the horizon.)
Well anyway, that’s my theory. I said it wasn’t logical.
The first bike I checked out was a Honda GL 1200 Goldwing Aspencade. It had 60K on the clock and was going for two grand. I didn’t expect much. I was correct. It was in rough shape, serviceable but tattered. Not what I was looking for.
Here’s a random photo of a GL120o Goldwing Aspencade from the internet. The one I checked out looked like this… but after you rolled it in a cement mixer for a while.
I was attracted to a single line in the ad: “Reason for selling, 82”. There’s something very poignant about that. I met the man. I hope he has many years left. I lingered too long and hated to leave. I’d have happily listened to his life’s story.
His bike started and idled perfectly. Alas it was crufty; switches that don’t work, a hole drilled in the faring for reasons that probably made sense when a switch was mounted in the hole, the odd wire that goes nowhere, well worn aftermarket bling that was lame when installed decades ago, a corner of the LCD was dead, etc… The bike’s mechanicals could probably warble happily for another 50,000+ miles but it would never look “clean”.
I didn’t take it.
There was a dry spell after that. I live in East Bumfuck Nowhere. Local markets in anything are slim. Searching for a 30 year old gem of a motorcycle on the cheap is expecting a lot. I’m aware it may be an impossible ask. Patience is merited.
Then I had a road trip. I had to go to a place to do a thing. While I was there I sniffed around for more bikes. I found a gem indeed!
I found a BMW LT1100. Just a little under 30 years old. Less than 4oK on the clock. It was offered at just about twice the cost of the clapped out ‘Wing. Still within my cheapskate budget.
This machine was perfect! Clean as a whistle. It left the factory with much less extraneous gadgetry than the ‘Wing and it’s old age everything functioned flawlessly. It had ABS which is pretty cool for that era.
Mostly I liked the motor. The BMW transverse inline 4 is a good design. I wanna hug that motor!
It had a full maintenance history and was obviously well cared for. There was no weird shit bolted to it. It was like I time traveled to the late ’90’s and rolled it off a showroom floor. I had no doubt I could hop on that bike and cross three time zones without the slightest hesitation!
Here’s what an BMW LT1100 looks like:
The guy was more than willing to let me take a test drive. I’m nervous just looking at another guy’s bike. Also I’m from the social class that doesn’t even set foot in a BMW showroom. But I figured “if I drop it, I’ll buy it” and that chilled me out. Test driving a $30K BMW would give me a stroke, test driving a beauty I can afford is less stressful!
I’d been traveling with Mrs. Curmudgeon. She happily waved as I rolled away on that sweet BMW; leaving her and the truck behind.
About a mile down the road I was like; “Did I just abandon my wife as collateral on a used vehicle test drive? Is that rude?” Then I was like “Nah, it’s fine, she can handle herself.” Soon I forgot all concerns and focused on the immediate “this is a sweet ride!”
It purred like a kitten, every gear was great, every shift flawless. It was a little buzzy at 4,000 rpm but it was scarcely noticeable. I meant to ride slow but the thing was so smooth and capable that I found myself going way faster than I expected. It might be a speeding ticket machine!
Tragically, the ergonomics of putting a grunt like me on that sleek engineering marvel was a mismatch. My inseam is too short for the tall BMW. I could fix that with a lower positioned seat but that’s only the start. The whole ergonomic package was integrated and it was completely off kilter for my Neanderthal body. I wound up leaning too much on my wrists. I mashed my nuts into the tank. On my cruiser I sit “in” the bike, on the BMW I perched “on” it. I guess I’m not a “perch” kind of guy.
It felt tall and gangly. I wanted laid back and chill and this bike was just too awesome for that. It wanted to go. It was all cheetah and antelope where my next bike is meant to be badger and napping dog. Does that make sense? Is this why wine descriptions devolve into stupid analogies? (“Despite the bouquet that hints of apricot, the body suggests leather and the aftertaste is tax reform.” Wine guys… I get ya’ now.)
I wicked it up a little and it went from great to superb. That’s what it was built to do. I leaned a touch in a few curves and gave it a fraction more throttle. It held traction like it was bonded to the planet. What a great bike!
But already my back was starting to ache. It’s a great bike but not for me. A chiropractor could buy that bike, give it to me free, and make a profit off my future visits.
Such a shame. Someone is going to get a hell of a deal, but that winner won’t be me.
Still, I call it a success. It was proof of concept. I had the proposition that under $5k can get a bike that’s all that and a bag of chips. The Beemer was stupendous; mechanically perfect, well maintained, appeared bulletproof, and ready for a road trip right now. Very close to the target.
There are unicorns out there. I just have to find mine.