Using a chatbot to write a blog entry

I’ve been discussing the use of Chat GPT recently with people I teach English to, and it got me thinking that I could also use this AI-powered chatbot to write a blog entry, as I was really curious what kind of text it would come up with. Although the more specific you make your “prompts”, i.e the written instructions you type into the software, the better the results will be, I just quickly asked it to write about why riding is fun and rewarding, and the following text is what appeared, within seconds.

The Thrill of Two Wheels: Why Riding Motorcycles is Fun and Rewarding

While there’s something undeniably exhilarating about straddling a two-wheeled machine, gripping the handlebars, and feeling the wind rush past you as you navigate the open road. Riding motorcycles isn’t just a mode of transportation; it’s a thrilling and rewarding experience that captures the hearts of millions around the world. In this blog entry, I’ll delve into the reasons why riding motorcycles is so much fun and why it offers unique rewards that other forms of travel simply can’t match.

1. Freedom and Adventure

Riding a motorcycle provides a profound sense of freedom that’s hard to replicate. Unlike being confined within the walls of a car, motorcyclists are exposed to their surroundings, immersing themselves in the journey. The open road beckons, promising adventure and discovery around every corner. Whether you’re exploring scenic country roads or cruising through bustling city streets, the world feels more alive when experienced on a motorcycle.

2. Connection with the Road

When you ride a motorcycle, you’re not merely traveling from point A to point B; you’re intimately connected to the road beneath you. You can feel every curve, dip, and texture as you navigate the asphalt. This connection heightens your awareness and demands your full attention, creating a meditative and sensory-rich experience that car drivers often miss.

3. Adrenaline Rush

The adrenaline rush that comes with riding a motorcycle is a major part of its appeal. The acceleration, the roar of the engine, and the rush of air against your body combine to create a thrilling sensation. The feeling of leaning into a curve or opening up the throttle on a straight stretch is like no other. It’s an experience that makes your heart race and leaves you craving more.

4. Community and Camaraderie

Motorcycling isn’t just a solo activity; it can be a gateway to a vibrant and welcoming community. Bikers from all walks of life come together to share their passion. Whether you’re at a local meet-up, a charity ride, or a major motorcycle rally, you’ll find a camaraderie among fellow riders that’s both heartwarming and inclusive. The sense of belonging to a tight-knit community is certainly a rewarding aspect of being a motorcyclist.

5. Stress Relief and Mindfulness

Riding a motorcycle demands your full attention, making it an ideal escape from the stresses of everyday life. The act of riding requires mindfulness, forcing you to leave your worries behind and focus solely on the present moment. This mental clarity can be incredibly therapeutic, offering a break from the constant distractions of the modern world.

6. Environmental Benefits

Believe it or not, motorcycles can be more environmentally friendly than many other forms of transportation. They typically have smaller carbon footprints and consume less fuel than cars. Additionally, they require less space, reducing traffic congestion. So, while enjoying the thrill of riding, you’re also contributing to a more sustainable future.

Conclusion

Riding motorcycles is not just a mode of transportation; it’s a way of life that offers unmatched fun and rewards. The sense of freedom, connection with the road, adrenaline rush, community, stress relief, and even environmental benefits all make this two-wheeled adventure an experience like no other. So, if you’ve ever been curious about the world of motorcycling, don’t hesitate to give it a try – you might discover a lifelong passion and a whole new way to experience the world.

So, what do you think? Pretty generic stuff, and yet, the basics are all there. Apart from the part about community, which is not really a reason I ride, I agree with almost everything the AI has come up with. Not sure the environmental benefits are nearly as good as suggested, and I can’t imagine many bikers ride because they are concerned about cutting down on their carbon footprints. Some new bikes get pretty lousy mileage, after all. At any rate, is using AI the future of blog writing, or perhaps already the present?

I bought the wrong bike!

Have you ever done that? As mentioned in one of my last entries, I bought a brand new Royal Enfield Meteor 350 (I thought, “With a name like that, it must be a great bike!”) in January. This was a bike I’d been lusting after since it was first introduced back in 2021. I was originally going to wait until some used ones came on the market (Never buy a new bike and pay full price, right?), but then I saw that a local Enfield dealer (there are two close by) was having a winter sale on a bright yellow Fireball, and the bike cost a fair bit less than it usually would have, and a lot less than it would have when prices went up a few weeks later.

I was really excited and pleased upon picking up the bike, as it was my first “new” motorcycle. After getting it registered I went on a bunch of short rides on local roads, although the cold winter days didn’t allow for any extended rides. The Meteor was an instant shot of meditation, or as my German friends would say, Entschleunigung (deceleration). I always returned home from these brief rides with a big, fat smile on my face, as the bike felt like the perfect combination of old and new. And being only a 350 with 20 odd horsepower didn’t bother me in the least. The sound, ride, torque and economy of the thing more than made up for any lack of speed or quickness. OK, so the bike was more of a cruiser than I had ever had before, but I didn’t care. Motorcycle-related bliss initially wiped out all the doubts and pains that would later emerge. And a friend’s comments and expression of surprise at seeing the bike went unheeded. I thought, “What do others know about the kind of bike I need?”

In April (after the wettest March in history in these parts) the weather warmed up and I joyfully began to take the Meteor on longer trips. It quickly became evident to me, however, that the bike was not what I had hoped it would be. With every additional kilometer the seating position felt more awkward, with my feet far forward of where they would usually be on the bikes I ride. This meant I couldn’t stand up to take the weight off my butt when trying to avoid the worst bumps, and the small roads I love to ride along have a lot of those. The rear suspension, although on its softest setting, felt exceptionally harsh, and my back began to get sore after an hour or two in the saddle.

So, what to do? Surely I could change this, couldn’t I? Move the foot pegs back, and get better rear shocks. But changing the pegs would also mean that the shifter and break pedal would have to be moved as well, surely no small undertaking, and something the boys at the TÜV (Germany’s vehicle inspection service) would frown on. And buying better shocks, judging from what I’ve read and seen on YouTube, doesn’t seem to bring much improvement. A conundrum indeed!

Keep riding and hope it gets better? I could, but my doubts about things actually getting better, about the bike feeling more comfortable, have, if anything, only gotten bigger the more I ride. Instead, I’ve quickly come to the conclusion that it just ain’t the right bike for me. Keeping it would probably mean riding less and also starting to like the bike less and less. Better to admit my mistake, i.e. cruisers, regardless of how mild they may be, are not my thing. And it’s better to sell the bike while the mileage, currently 1550 kms (960 miles), is low.

So I put the meteor on the market a couple of weeks ago, and now hope that someone takes advantage of a good price for a nearly new bike. So far, interest has been scant, which surprised me a bit at first. Although the bike is the least expensive of it’s kind in the Berlin area, and still has a guarantee until January of 2025, most folks seem to be willing to pay almost a 1000 euros more for a new one. I’ve been in this situation before, and I know the attraction of having a brand new bike, but Germans are usually bargain hunters, so I figured it would go quickly. Lots of people have looked at it online, and I’ve had a couple of calls, but nothing serious thus far. One guy offered a ridiculously low price. One problem is that in Germany (as opposed to England), Enfields are still thought to be of poor quality, while a second one is that having only 20 horsepower is way too little for many riders. I’ve found the quality to be excellent, however, and 20 horses, when properly put to use, are more than enough for most of the riding people will do on this bike.

Just have to be patient, I guess. And in the meantime, I’ve picked up something else. More on that later.

Venice, or “On a motorcycle I dream”

Writing a blog about motorcycles sometimes leads to unexpected tangents, or at least to aspects of motorcycling that I hadn’t really contemplated until now. One instance of this was when my wife and I were recently in Venice, Italy for a few days, after having had to postpone a trip to this wonderful place in 2020 due to the covid pandemic. While there we took a ferry to a couple of the smaller islands north the main island, one of which is the city’s main cemetery, San Michele. Its columnar cypress trees lined the island’s walkways.

While walking around this quiet and impressive place, we came across a grave which had a photo of a man and his motorcycle. Below the photo was this picture and an inscription.

As most of the graves had photos of rather serious looking older people or happy couples on them, this one stood out. I don’t speak Italian, so I asked a friend to translate the words, and he said: “On my feet, I walk, in a car I travel, on a motorcycle I dream”. Couldn’t have said it better myself!

Back in the city proper, it occurred to me that there are no streets, and thus no cars, trucks, motorcycles or even bicycles, so boats are the main form of transport. And what an incredible variety of boats there are!

From the moment you you land at the airport, you become dependant on boats to get you where you want to go. A long corridor leads from the arrival terminals straight to a series of docks and some waiting water taxis. On the left above is an Alilaguna ferry, which is really like a water-borne public bus, while on the right a private taxi boat (one of the gorgeous Riva boats) prepares to cast off. What a way to get to a city!

And once you get there, it’s boats galore! The Canal Grande was alive with gondolas and vaporettos, which are the ubiquitous public taxi boats.

The private taxis cut through the water like knives. Beautiful boats that their captains moved through the water with such complete nonchalance, it appeared they had never done anything else.

We bought a 3-day pass and rode on the vaporettos, which run on a regular schedule throughout much of the lagoon. This was our ferry to San Michele, which is in the background.

Sleek black gondolas are everywhere as well, although I read that there are only 400 gondoliers left, which is a fraction of the 10,000 who used to ply their trade here. They are still very active and visible in their striped tops and broad-brimmed straw hats, and often ask passersby if they want to take a ride. With prices starting at 80 euros, we stuck to the vaporettos except for the time we took a traghetto, a gondola used to ferry people across the Canal Grande.

They are beautiful, though. And seen from a distance, they pretty much look the same, whereas close up the differences become more apparent. Some of them looked quite plush, while others were much simpler.

The bow of each gondola is decorated by the beautiful ferro de prora, which is made of brass or steel and serves as a counterweight to the gondolier standing in the back. Very symbolic, the ferro has a comb with six teeth facing forward and one facing toward the rear. Each of the teeth on the front represents one of the city’s districts (sestieri), while the one on the back represents the island of Giudecca.

Even the ambulances in Venice are boats, and we saw several of them racing by on their way to the special dock next to the hospital on the north side of the main island.

Boatyards are numerous in the city, which is no surprise considering the number of boats plying the canals. It was such an unusual situation to be in a densely populated city that has no two- or four-wheeled vehicles, but it was incredibly peaceful, despite the crowds in some areas. Definitely worth a visit!

Once again an Enfield

I’ve been a big fan of Royal Enfield for a long time now, and even bought a Himalayan back in 2018 (https://wordpress.com/post/eastgoeseast.wordpress.com/284) when I got interested in doing some of the TET. As much as I enjoyed the bike, at the time I found the 24 horsepower a little anemic, and when someone offered to trade me his old Moto Guzzi Nuovo Falcone (a bike I had always wanted) for the Himi, it was just too hard to say no. And the Guzzi was a cool bike (https://wordpress.com/post/eastgoeseast.wordpress.com/550), no doubt, but I really missed the Indian bike, and actually regretted selling it. I ended up selling the Falcone within 6 months and buying a used Suzuki XF650, which was kind of like a Himalaya with twice the horsepower. I was able to set the Suzuki up just like I wanted to have it, and for the past three years it’s been the perfect travel bike. And yet, I’ve been hankering for another Enfield since parting with mine, and this past December saw that a local Enfield dealer (we are lucky enough to have two in the Berlin area) was selling a brand new Meteor 350 at a reduced price, so I took the plunge.

The Meteor on sale was the Fireball Yellow one in the photo above, which is the color I like best on this bike. I’ve read dozens of articles and watched countless videos about this bike since it came out in 2021, and even though I’m not generally a huge fan of cruisers, this little bike, with its 20.2 horsepower, latched on to me and wouldn’t let go. I originally thought I’d wait and get one of the new 350 Classics, but somehow, even though it’s also a gorgeous bike, it seemed to be a bit overdone. Maybe it just has too much chrome. I don’t know exactly, but then again they are similar bikes that use the same engine, so maybe it was the fact that the Meteor costs a good deal less and is a great mixture of old and new styles that appealed to me so much. I also like the fact that the new bike has ABS brakes, fuel injection and is extremely frugal when it comes to fuel consumption. Prices of gas being what they are, and with emissions standards getting more and more strict, it seems like a good direction to go in. With it’s 15-liter tank, the bike should be able to get close to 500 kms (300 miles) before running out of fuel. We will see. And although the bike is anything but quick, it’s a joy to ride and will supposedly cruise at 100 kms (60 mph) all day long, which suits me just fine. And although I’ve never been into cruisers, as I mentioned, I certainly have a cruiser mentality when it comes to riding. Slow and steady is just fine.

I bought the bike at Ideal Seitenwagen, (https://www.ideal-seitenwagen.eu/) in Berlin’s Kreuzberg district. They’ve been around since 1987 and also have a small workshop and motorcycle museum. The place is a real feast for the eyes and dealing with the three people who work there has also been a very pleasant experience. They really stand behind what they sell, and ride a lot themselves. The workshop is in an old horse stall in a big, quiet courtyard near the Spree river, which was the border between East and West Berlin in this area of the city until 1990.

They not only sell Enfields (and sidecars, hence the name), but also repair and customize bikes as well.

Old vehicles, engines and signs everywhere you look.

And a lot of brand new Enfields as well, hidden among the wonderful old bikes on display.

An old Imme 100 (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imme_R100), an extremely innovative bike when produced in 1950, is now as rare as hen’s teeth, and I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen one on the street. It was said to have been 40 years ahead of its time.

Lots of nice old granite pavers and ivy-covered facades serve as a perfect setting for the new Enfields. Feels like you’re in a small village far away from the madding crowd, but outside the front gate the noisy, crowded streets of Berlin quickly remind you that you’re in one of the city’s most crowded districts.

Coming and Going

This past year has seen a change in my Fuhrpark, which is the German word for a fleet of vehicles. In reality I hardly have a fleet of vehicles, but I have gotten rid of a car and a scooter, and picked up a new (used) car as well as a pedelec, so it’s been an interesting time. This week it was the old East German scooter, the KR51 Schwalbe, that went to a new owner. The KR was an old 50cc vehicle I had restored for my daughter Helen a few years ago in the hopes that she would use it as a first step to riding a motorcycle. Although Helly did ride it a bit for a time, and learned how to shift gears and use the kick starter just like with a bigger bike, she never really took to riding the thing, and to be honest, an old 2-stroke smoker with mediocre brakes and a fiddly carburetor was perhaps not the ideal first vehicle. Sometimes it takes a while to realize the truth, even if, in the end, it served its purpose of familiarzing her with two-wheeled motorized transport. And the Schwalbe went to a good home, to a guy who grew up in East Germany and is going through a phase of Ostalgie, which means nostalgia for the “good old days in the East”. I wish him all the best with it!

We also got rid of our trusty old Toyota Matrix after 17 years. The last time it was inspected the mechanic said that due to some underbody rust, the car might not make it through the next inspection in two years time. The Matrix made me love Toyota vehicles, as it was the most reliable, practical car I’d ever owned, and apart from wear and tear, there was very little that needed to be done to the car to keep it on the road. The only problem we had with it was due to the fact that this model was never sold in Europe, so it was sometimes difficult to get parts for it. One time, for instance, a ferret decided to feast on several rubber hoses in the engine compartment, and it took awhile to replace them, as they had to come from Japan, China and Brazil, if I remember correctly. Ferrets sleeping in engine compartments of parked cars is a surprisingly common occurence here, especially during the colder months, and when one decides to make its home next to your engine, it can get expensive.

We initially thought we would keep the Matrix as long as possible, but when a family member offered us a low-mileage 2015 Mercedes Citan for a great price we decided to go for it. The Citan is really little more than a badge-engineered Renault Kangoo delivery van that Mercedes wanted for its customers who run fleets of vehicles, and it was just what we were looking for. With a 1.5-liter diesel engine that has been used in millions of other vehicles around the world, it’s very efficient, and with its particle filter is classed as Euro 6, so we can even drive in the car in Berlin’s low-emission zone. We debated the idea of not getting another car at all, as we don’t need one to get to work, but decided we weren’t quite ready to do without one yet. Even though the price of fuel has become prohibitively expensive this year, it’s still convenient to have a car when the weather gets bad or we want to pick up something bulky from the store. And we hope to turn the Citan into a part-time camper, as there are a variety of firms offering so-called “camping boxes” for these types of vehicles, which you can slide in and out of the back of the car as needed for camping trips (e.g. https://www.vacamod.de/kombivan/).

The Citan is a strange looking vehicle, to say the least, with perhaps a face only a mother could love. And the Mercedes star couldn’t be much bigger, could it? But it’s a fairly simple, straightforward vehicle that has tons of storage space and will hopefully get us from point A to B without too many problems for the foreseeable future.

The newest member of our vehicular family is a folding Zündapp pedelec that I purchased as a quick and easy way to get back and forth to work, and as a fun and energy efficient form of transportation. It’s definitely not a top-end e-bike, but seems solid and is a great way to get into the world of electric vehicles. It has an internal battery and a the motor is located in the rear hub, so you really get the feeling of being pushed forward, as if there is always a tailwind helping you along. It’s relatively light (for an e-bike) at 21 kilos and can easily be folded together and carried onto the train, giving me great flexibility when commuting. I put a larger front chain wheel on it, as well as a longer seat post and some additional lights, but otherwise I’ve left it as is. The only downside is its lack of disc brakes, which I now realize are very important on a pedelec, as I’m generally riding faster (max. of 25 kph) than I would be if I was providing all the power myself. But the little thing is really a blast to ride, and I can understand how people get hooked on them. I think e-bikes are a game-changer, as are electric vehicles in general, despite their present shortcomings (range, problems with lithium, etc.).

A walk through the city

Walking through Berlin on my way to work the other day I saw so many interesting motorcycles I decided to get out my phone and take a few pictures (who would have believed we’d be doing that 30 years ago?). Here’s a sampling.

Nothing too spectacular here, but the old F650 looked cool sitting out in front of a former gas station that’s now used by an art collective.

I’ve always had a weak spot for Honda’s CX500, which I believe was called the “plastic maggot” in England, although I’m not really sure why. In Germany they are affectionately known as “Güllepumpen”, which means sewerage pump (also not a great name, but it’s based on a very famous cartoon called Werner). They are strange looking, to be sure, but are also supposed to be bullet-proof, and many riders in Europe have put hundreds of thousands of kilometers on these babies.

A nice old Vespa next to a couple of little electric rollers, which tend to clutter the sidewalks in this part of the city. Love the bum-stop seat on the Vespa, as well as the decals.

A nice new Royal Enfield Meteor 350. Great little bike, and the dark blue paint looks fantastic on it. I have a bit of a weak spot for this bike as well, despite its meager 20 horsepower.

An older Royal Enfield Bullet, which actually looks to be in better shape than its ratty appearance would lead you to believe. Looks like someone poured acid all over the tank to give it a nice rough “used” look. I think all the shiny bits and lack of rust give it away though, and I bet the owner has put a fair amount of money into making it look the way it does. I imagine it is fun to ride, and the sound must be fantastic as well!

An old boxer with a huge aftermarket tank on it and a lovely looking sidecar. Love the Earles forks up front, the massive front brake and the cigar-shaped exhaust pipes. The stories this bike could tell!

And finally, an old East German Mifa cargo bike from the 1980s, just like the one I bought and fixed up a while ago. A very rare bike indeed, and with a basket on the front and back able to carry quite a load, as long as you don’t mind having only one speed. Light and maneuverable, they are a very inexpensive introduction to the world of cargo bikes, if you can actually find one.

As you can see, in Berlin the sidewalks are wide and parking motorcycles and bikes on them is allowed, if not always appreciated by pedestrians and local residents. And also apparent in a number of the photos is the graffiti, which is prodigious in the city.

Learning to drive at 37

I recently came across an article by Helen Lewis called I’m the Driver Now, which describes how she first learned to drive at the age of 37. In her very humerous, self-deprecating style, she writes that it was the hardest but best thing she had ever done. A couple of her thoughts (especially about aging!) really stayed with me, so I wanted to list a few excerpts here.

“I also wanted to take on this challenge for the same reason George Mallory climbed Everest: because it’s there. Admittedly, Mallory died in the attempt (also at the age of 37). A few years ago, I read a terrifying Atlantic article titled “Your Professional Decline Is Coming (Much) Sooner Than You Think,” in which Arthur Brooks explains that you become less flexible in your thinking as you age. However, much like Pandora discovered Hope at the bottom of the box after letting out Fear, Anger, and Late-Night eBay Purchases, I have found some consolation: The knowledge you gain as you mature is just as valuable as the mental elasticity that you lose. In driving, that duality presents itself in the fact that teenagers are more likely to pass the test than are older drivers—but they’re also more likely to die in their first year on the roads. Only a fine line separates confidence from recklessness.”

“In Britain, fewer than a third of 17-to 20-year-olds now hold a license, down from half in 1994. In the United States, the percentage of 18-year-olds holding a license dropped from 80.4 percent in 1983 to 61 percent in 2018. Rising insurance costs, fluctuating gas prices, and environmental concerns have all contributed to the decline of the teenage driver.” 

“One of the biggest reasons it gets harder to do new things as you get older is that new things are generally undignified at first (indeed, this is an excellent heuristic for discovering them) and the older you get, the more dignified you’re expected to be,” the tech investor Paul Graham wrote recently.”

“Writing is a daily confrontation with your own limits; every morning, you sit down at your computer, open a document, and you are still not Joan Didion. This is good practice for aging; you can tell yourself that you don’t want to do something, when the truth is that it frightens you. Unless you allow yourself to feel like a rube, you will shrink yourself with every passing year.“

A short trip along the Czech border

Along small roads through the Saxonian countryside.

Before going to Iceland I had a chance to get away for four days on the XF, so I decided to head south and ride in the mountains along the German-Czech border. I had hoped to take a more extended trip to visit friends in Bavaria but Covid reared its ugly head and it was nine days before I was able to go anywhere, making a change of plans necessary. As it was, I had a great little trip and the weather was generally fine, although the last day was very, very hot, with temperatures reaching 38°C (100°F).

I took my tent and sleeping bag and found a small campground at the end of the first day near Olbernhau, where I used to go skiing with my daughter when she was young. Its a wonderful, hilly area in the Ore Mountains with tons of small, twisty roads, so it’s a delight to ride there. And easy to dart back and forth across the border into the Czech Republic, where the roads are even smaller and less crowded.

A cigar (to keep the mosquitos away) and a wee bit of Jägermeister (to keep the bad spirits away, of course!) after dinner, while writing down the day’s impressions.

Everything packed away nicely in the Lomos and a roll-top bag. Still seems like a lot for a small trip, but it was good to have the option of camping, as I didn’t know if there would be any vacancies at the hotels. As it turned out, most people seemed to have gone far away on their vacations, perhaps as a result of finally being able to travel again after the last two and a half years. Great for me; not so great for the many hotels and restaurants dependent on tourist money.

I slipped across the Czech border at Rübenau, where it was quiet and overcast, with a hint of rain. Lovely roads and the XF was the perfect machine to be on.

The old church at Kalek. I love how the long wall surrounding this beautiful old building and cemetery curves along the slope of the hill. Many of the buildings and roads have been restored now, but there is still a marked difference between the towns in the Czech Republic and neighboring Germany. It still feels like going back in time when riding “south of the border”, even if the differences are slowly disappearing.

The weather slowly cleared on the second day. The Czech roads in the high plains of the Ore Mountains are mostly in good shape, and wind through the villages and surrounding forests. Its a good place to slow down and just relax and take in the scenery.

I stopped to watch a shepherd slowly lead his flock down a valley. This is why I like to travel on a motorcycle. Just magical! I was also using a Garmin Zumo for the first time, and it lead me down a variety of small roads I may not have otherwise found. It certainly slowed down the trip by putting me on small, winding roads, but that was the whole idea of the journey. Slow down and smell the roses, or at least the sheep dung.

Back in northern Bavaria, I got a room at an old hotel that I had stayed at before. Run by a charming old couple, it is very quiet and affordable, and the only thing on the menu was Bauernfrühstück (farmer’s breakfast), i.e. scrambled eggs and fried potatoes with a bit of bacon and caraway seeds, washed down by a non-alcoholic beer. It was another trip to the past.

The third day was spent riding through parts of Thuringia on small roads. A very enjoyable day as well, there were more motorcyclists underways here, as it was a Sunday. On my way home on the last day, the temperatures climbed and climbed and it became almost unbearable in the sun with all the riding gear on. I do have a mesh riding jacket, however, and that made all the difference in weather like this. As long as I was moving there was a comfortable breeze, so stops were relatively few and far between, and shady parking spots were the desired place to take breaks. Copious amounts of water were consumed and I kept a thick film of sun block on my nose. Lots of low rolling hills in northern Saxony and lots of agriculture. Big tractors pulling grain-filled trailers were plentiful, and I was careful to keep my distance when passing. It looked like the farmers had a pretty good crop, although with the drought we’ve been having, it’s hard to imagine how that’s possible. It seemed to be as dry as a bone almost everywhere apart from the villages and fields higher up in the mountains.

I managed to make it home in one piece after having a thorougly enjoyable four days of riding. Certainly not an adventure of earth-shattering proportions, but still great to get away from familiar environs and see some new things. And being able to spend time alone and on the motorcycle cruising along unknown roads, taking in all there was to see, is really what it’s all about. Once again the XF ran flawlessly and I barely noticed the extra weight and bulk of everything I was carrying. I’ve almost put 20,000 kms on the bike since getting it two years ago, and hope there are many more trips to come on it.

Iceland

After visiting family in Rhode Island my wife and I had a chance to spend a week in Iceland on our way back to Germany. It’s always been on my bucket list, and we have two friends there who had told us time and again to stop by, so we did. Unfortunately we didn’t have our bikes with us, but this first visit was a great way to get a feel for the place, and who knows, maybe there’ll be an opportunity to return to this island nation on two wheels some day. People who have ridden motorcycles through and around Iceland have often mentioned how fantastic it is, even if it is often wet, cold and exhausting. As we spent a fair bit of time around Reykjavik, I didn’t see all that many adventure motorcycles, even though Iceland is a magnet for riders who want to get away from the madding crowd.

These two KTMs were typical of the many we saw on our travels. I love how the license plates are bent around the rear fenders.

Once we left the capital city to travel to the Snaefellsness penisula and along the south coast to the well-known Black Beach, we saw more bikes zooming past in all directions. Most looked ready to hit the back roads, to get off the pavement and away from the crowds of tourists visiting the various “points of interest”. There were lots of KTMs of all shapes and sizes, and while talking to two local riders, they told me KTM is the most popular brand of bike in Iceland. After I told them I ride a bike back in Germany they mentioned that BMW, although good, is too expensive for them. I don’t think of KTM as in inexpensive bike, but maybe the company offers special conditions for Icelanders. Or maybe they are just the right bike for the conditions local riders encounter on the miles and miles of unpaved roads, tracks and river crossings. Responding to my question about the reliability of the Austrian bikes (a frequent topic in adventure motorcycling forums), one rider said that he had had no problems in 20,000 kilometers.

The further we got from Reykjavik, the more offroad vehicles we saw, and some of them were simply enormous. This one above, for instance was higher than most buses we saw and careened down the road as it made its way along the coastal road, scaring some drivers coming in the opposite direction to the point that they pulled way over on the shoulder when passing. This particular one was from Switzerland and served as a vacation home to an older couple. I have to admit I wondered if such a vehicle was really necessary to conquer Iceland’s remote outback, but then I haven’t been out there myself, and a bit of overkill is undoubtedly preferable to getting stuck miles from the nearest friendly face.

Back in Reykavik, we took a long hike up to the Meradalir Valley to see the latest volcanic eruption, which started on the 3rd of August. Our friend Buppa made sure we were well prepared, which was a good thing, as it took us over four hours to get to the eruption and back, and the hiking over the rocky slopes and plains in cold and windy weather was very difficult at times. At least it wasn’t raining!

We passed extensive lava fields from last year’s eruption, and I was astonished at the extent to which the magma had spread out, filling entire valleys. The lava was (amazingly) still steaming in places, and was extremely dangerous to walk on, so we stayed well clear of it.

This part of Iceland’s Reykjanes peninsula is literally covered in volcanoes and is a site of extensive geothermal activity due to the pulling apart of two of the earth’s tectonic plates.

Walking over one last ridge, we finally saw the volcano in all its glory, and it was an amazing and otherworldly sight indeed. It was really interesting to see everyone’s expression of surprise and awe at their first glimpse. This gurgling, bubbling opening in the earth’s crust was a reminder of just how alive and malleable the earth under our feet is. It really was an overwhelming experience, and one I was grateful to have a chance to see.

Back in the city on our last full day, we visited the University of Iceland, where Buppa works. I spotted an unusual old bike, an Indian Rajdoot, which had been turned into a bookshelf at the university bookstore.

Although never nice to see an old bike chopped up, this particular “bookshelf” was tastefully put together and perhaps kept the bike from being taken to a scrapyard. The Rajdoot (Hindi for diplomat) was a Polish SHL M11 built under license in India, and has a 175 cc two-stroke motor that is a further development of the German DKW RT 125, the most copied motorcycle in the world. Amazingly, something like 1.6 million of these bikes were built between 1962 and 2005, when they were phased out due to stricter emissions regulations.

Our final visit in Iceland was to an office where Buppa’s wife Björg works. Stigamot is a center that offers counselling services for survivors of sexual violence, providing free and confidential advice and help. While there, I noticed a brochure produced by a group I had never heard of: Bikers Against Child Abuse (B.A.C.A.) is an organization active worldwide to create a safer environment for abused children. A very valuable service, to say the least.

Riding the TET and contemplating life

Well, I did finally get my XF through inspection, even if it meant going somewhere else to get it done. I had no luck in Berlin, and after two attempts rode to Potsdam, which is just down the road a piece, and went directly to an inspection station (as opposed to a workshop where an inspector comes in once a week). I was through in 20 minutes and the guy didn’t even look at the handlebar or brake line that had me pulling my hair out during the first two inspections. The inspector was still thorough, but he merely concentrated on whether the bike rode well, stopped as it should, and didn’t make too much noise. That, in my eyes, is what inspections should really be all about. At any rate, now I’m all set for the next two years, which is a great relief.

The green circle shows that the next inspection will have to be done in May of 2024.

I originally bought the XF (and the Himalayan before that) with the idea of riding the Trans Euro Trail (TET), which is “Europe’s dirt road motorcycle adventure” (https://transeurotrail.org). The trail is currently 51,000 km long (30,000 miles) and stretches from the Mediterranean Sea to the Artic Circle. A so-called Community Interest Company, the TET is not profit driven, and is completely free of charge. It’s organized and maintained by a group of linesmen, and is slowly growing as more trails are added to it. Most of it is not paved (Germany is an exception here, with only 30% unpaved), and all of the trails may be legally ridden by motorcycles. There’s a code of conduct that needs to be obeyed, as much of Europe is densely populated, and these trails are often used by many other people seeking a bit of rest and relaxation.

I did a little riding around in a sand quarry on a friend’s Honda Elsinore as a kid, but my experience riding off-road is limited, to say the least, so Germany’s a good place for me to start. The closest stretch of the TET runs in an east-west direction about 120 kms north of here, and I’ve spent two days in May riding on two different sections. Most of the trail is, as mentioned, “paved”, but this is usually with age-old cobblestones or fairly poor concrete pavers and asphalt. The unpaved sections are mostly very old roads between villages, and are generally easy to ride on, although some sections are sandy, while others can be quite muddy. The XF is fine for the trails I’ve done so far, but if the riding got more challenging, I’d have to get some proper enduro tires, as the Mitas E-08s that I have are mainly for on-road riding.

The riding has been very enjoyable, and even if not terribly challenging, gets you off the bigger roads, riding between verdant fields and through tiny villages. It really is a great way to see Europe.

I’ve only seen two other motorcycles on the trail so far, as well as a few horses and bicyclists. No one has complained about my using the trail, which I was worried about, as so few people here outside the motorcycle community know anything about the TET, or that there is actually legal off-road riding in Germany.

The cobblestone roads are very old and have held up quite well, but are bone-shaking to ride down for any length of time.

Old Feldwege between villages are mainly used by farmers nowadays, but are also open to the public. The XF feels right at home on these dirt roads.

While riding home after a few hours on the trail, feeling good, I stopped at a bakery in the small town of Lychen to grab a belegte Brötchen (basically a bun with cheese) and a cup of coffee from the friendly woman behind the counter. I sat on a bench in the middle of town and enjoyed the scenery before continuing. This is a very standard part of a riding day here for me, so I was shocked and surprised when reading a newspaper a few days later that the very bakery I went into actually exploded less than a week later. Although the cause of the explosion is not 100% certain, it’s assumed that a gas leak caused the destruction, which was extensive. The woman working in the bakery at the time was seriously injured as well.

Damage to the building was extensive. Photo courtesy of the Giessener Allgemeine

Now. I’m not one to spend too much time dwelling on the dangers that life poses, but it did occur to me that as dangerous as motorcycling can be, sometimes you just have to be in the wrong place at the wrong time for bad things to happen. There are over 10,000 bakeries in Germany (according to de.statista.com), and I happened to be in the one that exploded a couple of days later. Fate? Coincidence? Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows, but it has certainly given me something to think about.