freewheelen

CLASSIC TRACK DAY: Streets of Willow, Willow Springs International Raceway, Rosamond, CA | 10.27.2019

In January 2019, UCLA published a study (in partnership with Harley-Davidson) cataloging the numerous health benefits of riding a motorcycle.

Research Highlights:

●    Riding a motorcycle decreases stress by 28% 

●    Similar to light exercise, a 20-minute ride increases heart rates by 11% and adrenaline levels by 27%

●    Compared to driving a car, focus enhances while riding a motorcycle (at levels comparable to meditating)

●    Increased alertness in participants’ brain activity while riding

As motorcyclists, we’re already aware of the advantages of opting for two wheels. We throw around phrases like throttle therapy. We stand by the claim that “four wheels move the body — but two wheels move the soul”. We swear that “you never see a motorcycle parked outside of a psychiatrist’s office.” 

But my question is: 

Why?

Why does motorcycling decrease stress?

Why do two wheels increase your focus?

In this day and age, it’s hard to do one thing at a time. We’re often watching Netflix while scrolling through Instagram, reading an email during a meeting, or worse yet, texting while driving. But on a motorcycle, if you’re not focused on doing this one thing, it can cost you everything. 

When I’m on the bike, I don’t worry about my bills or stress over workplace drama. I don’t ruminate over the past or get anxious about the future. I don’t let anything distract me from the now. 

I’m focused.  I’m aware. I’m present. 

Psychologists refer to this state of mind as flow. Flow is when all your energy goes into one activity and everything else falls away. It’s that sensation when you become fully immersed in what you’re doing. If you’re a painter, it’s when you paint. If you’re a writer, it’s when you write. If you’re a motorcyclist, it’s when you ride. It’s those rare moments in life when your thoughts and your actions are one, and that’s the best part of motorcycling — losing yourself in it.

In the saddle, I tend to lose track of time.  For that reason, I refuse to set the clock on my bike’s instrument cluster. As I see it, I don’t want an excuse to take my mind off the road. I don’t want to feel rushed because that’s when mistakes occur. Yes, I could be late to work — and I have been — but it’s better than being injured or dead. After all, worrying about time (or anything else) would take me out of the now and we could all use more now in our lives.

Today, we’re often in two places at one time. We sit at a dinner table with our significant other and scroll through our feeds—separately. Our bodies are physically present, but our minds are elsewhere. It seems that we’re always wanting something other than what is currently in front of us.

German Philosopher, Arthur Schopenhauer, believed that people go through life with an endless striving for more (I want a new car. I want a promotion. I want a better-looking spouse. etc.). Pessimistic as that sounds, he also felt that humans could find “freedom from suffering” during the moments when they’re captivated by beauty. 

If you’ve ever looked out over a great landscape (Yosemite Valley, Grand Canyon, etc.), you know the feeling. If you’ve ever thoroughly enjoyed a piece of music, you know the feeling. If you’ve ever found yourself completely immersed in a movie, you know the feeling. Well, for me, I find that feeling in motorcycling. 

The dangers of motorcycling indeed deter most people from taking up the sport and I understand that outlook. For instance, mountain climbing seems like a dangerous activity to me. You’re suspended thousands of feet above the ground with your life dangling from ropes and carabiners. However, for climbers, the rewards outweigh the risks. 

By concentrating on finding the next foothold or transferring weight appropriately, mountain climbers immerse themselves in the experience. In those moments, the prospects of death recede because they feel most alive. Similar to mountain climbing, injury and death are imminent threats with motorcycling, but it’s that threat of danger that forces riders to focus on the task at hand.

Yes, UCLA and Harley-Davidson have the percentages and figures to link riding and mental health, but they’re concentrating more on the what and I care more about the why. With Millennials valuing mental health, it’s a creative, forward-thinking approach for a company that’s historically conservative. 

SoCal Supermoto, Riverside, CA | 08.24.2019

Dyna Days Vol. 2, Perris, CA | 09.14.2019 (Pt.1)

I’ve been gone for a while, but I promise, I’ve been busy. 

I started writing for RideApart 3 weeks ago!

THE WALK-AROUND: She’s Complete!

Paint: Sandblasted Steel w. Retro H-D Decal by The Custom Shop of Canoga Park, CA

Air Cleaner: S&S Cycle Mini-Teardrop Stealth Air Cleaner

Exhaust: Two Brothers Racing Megaphone Generation II 2-into-1 Exhaust

Sissy Bar: Edward Richie Simple Pointed Sissy Bar

Seat: Stock reupholstered by JP Custom Seats of Canoga Park, CA

Pinstriping: Malex Pinstriping of Lomita, CA

Foot Pegs: The Speed Merchant Speed Pegs

Shifter: TC Bros Nomad Shift Peg

Handlebars: LA Choppers Miter T-Bars (10″ Rise)

Grips: Arlen Ness Fusion Grips

Mirror: Cycle Standard Round Mirror

Tires: Pirelli Night Dragons

Size does matter, and in this case, smaller is better.

It’s no secret that Husqvarna’s dirt bikes and dual sports sell themselves. Touting a storied motocross/scramble history, it’s easy to see why the off-roaders are so popular with the public. On the other hand, the company hasn’t seen much success with its street-oriented lineup. With 2019s still occupying the showroom floor and the pressure of Q3 looming, Husky recently visited Azusa, California to jumpstart the sales of their Svartpilen & Vitpilen lines. Labeled the Real Street tour, the series of demo events featured both models in their 401 & 701 variations, casting a veritable spotlight on their often overlooked street bikes. 

But the Svartpilen & Vitpilen aren’t afraid of the spotlight, you could even say they were crafted to bask in it. The first thing you’ll notice when you gaze at the Svartpilen & Vitpilen is the unconventional design. It’s not a stretch to say that the aesthetics of the lineup resemble something out of a Scandinavian furniture catalog. With minimal, flowing lines, the Svartpilen & Vitpilen would feel right at home with your Poäng and Klippan. 

Yes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but the neo-retro style aims directly at a younger, urban demographic that gravitate toward classic, simplistic forms with a utilitarian edge. Whether you fancy the looks of the bikes or not, you have to admit that the fit and finish is quite impressive. However, I do feel the designers tragically overlooked the speedometer, as its more akin to a gym teacher’s stopwatch than a proper gauge. Not to mention, the highly reflective glass and mounting angle make render the information illegible. Aside from the hideous - and quite useless - instrument cluster, the Svartpilen & Vitpilen reek of smart sophistication.  

But I can see how that elevated design could be a barrier for potential buyers. Due to the refined, “Swedish” aesthetics, one could quickly distinguish these models from their intra-brand cousins, KTM’s Duke and Enduro. With hopes that the public will embrace these models the same vigor as they’ve taken to KTM’s lineups, Husky is just trying to get more booties in the saddle, and I’m more than happy to oblige. 

Sharing the motor of KTM’s 390 Duke and 690 Enduro R, Husky’s Svartpilen & Vitpilens benefit from two well-tested mills. Both engines push the boundaries of power that a single-cylinder engine should produce. Despite the lack of pistons to share the load, the vibrations on the 401 & 701 aren’t excessive (take that assessment with a grain of salt - I ride a Harley). 

While the 701 delivers its power in a smooth, linear fashion, I found myself smitten with the 401′s punchiness. Glancing at the spec sheet, I noticed that the 701 reaches peak torque of 53 ft-lb @ 6,750 rpm with 75 hp topping out @ 8,500 rpm. Comparatively, the 401′s max torque (27 ft-lb) hits @ 6,800 rpm and horsepower (42 hp) @ 8,600 rpm. With about half the power and three-quarters of the weight of the 701, the 401 shouldn’t feel nearly as torquey. Additionally, both motors achieve max torque and horsepower at practically identical rpms, leaving me perplexed with my preference for the 401 - aside from the butt dyno. 

No, I can’t support my fondness of the little thumper with cold hard data, but I can attest that the majority of the riders attending the demo agreed. I know anecdotal evidence is the least persuasive argument, but the 401 simply felt like a more agile from side-to-side and provided great acceleration in short bursts. And I may be rationalizing here, but those darting characteristics seemed appropriate for two models that translate to white arrow (Vitpilen) and black arrow (Svartpilen). The 701s weren’t bad motorcycles in the least, they just didn’t imbue the same excitement as they’re diminutive counterparts. Size does matter, and in this case, smaller is better. 

But the size variation didn’t stop at the engine. The differing braking systems on the bikes occupied two different build quality standards. Even with the 401′s “budget” brakes, both systems felt well-suited for their classes with adial-mounted Brembo clampers blessing the 701s and ByBre calipers getting the job done on the 401s. 

Despite the fact that both models lack dual-discs, the calipers delivered a reassuring bite while riding in urban environments. Yes, an extra rotor and caliper up front would certainly push the models in a more performance direction but we didn’t take the Svartpilen or Vitpilen into the twisties and the stock brakes would suffice where most buyers would ride these bikes - in the city.

When judging the two models on ergonomics, I kept their natural habitat - urban environments - in mind, as both maintain a fairly sporty position. Starting with the Vitpilen, I immediately noticed the aggressive, forward-leaning stance. Positioning my head directly over the front wheel, the Vitpilen made me want to slalom through mid-day traffic at full throttle. However, that state of mind prooved more enslaving than freeing. After all, I was on a demo tour. If “it’s better to ride a slow bike fast than a fast bike slow,” nothing is worse than living that platitude in reverse. If you’re looking for a nimble, aggressive, lane-splitter, the Vitpilen has you covered, but make sure your journey is manageable, as I already felt the tension in my wrists by the time we returned from the short ride.

On the other hand, the Svartpilen utilizes high-rise bars to position the rider at ease. From the upright posture, I was content to stay in line and putt along at a legally acceptable speed. Sure, I tugged on the throttle from time to time, but the relaxed stance felt more conducive to congested road conditions. If the Vitpilen’s ergonomics equate to a Supersport, the Svartpilen would be it’s Naked/Standard counterpart. Both bikes are aimed at city-dwellers and while it would be a stretch to say that either of them let you stretch your legs out, neither of them feel cramped. Though I’d probably opt for the Svartpilen in most situations, if I were visiting one of the local canyons (GMR, HWY 39, etc), I’d certainly side with the Vitpilen.

While the ergonomics shift the rider into different postures - and different states of mind - the road manners of the bikes are quite similar. With all models under 6 inches of travel, I could easily flat-foot each bike. Despite its smaller stature, the 401s benefited from the same WP 43mm inverted forks that graced the front end of the 701s. On the road, each bike was compliant and responded immediately to my every input. Particularly, the Vitpilen - with its clip-ons and head-down posture - reacted to every adjustment of my body. 

Not only did the suspension allow the bikes to cut from side-to-side, it also made the 401s and 701s feel planted. From soaking up potholes to providing stable steering at speed, KTM’s proprietary suspenders highlighted how fun these machines can be. On the contrary, the lack of suspension travel on the Svartpilen did beg the question: couldn’t this model be much more fun? Aside from ergonomics and a few bits of design (paint mainly), how does the Svarpilen distinguish itself from the Vitpilen? 

And that’s where I got to thinking about the lack of sales for these two models. After taking everything into consideration, it seems like Husqvarna’s “Real Street” motorcycles are going through an identity crisis. Are these bikes retro or performance? Can you consider a motorcycle “premium” (as the price would suggest) the dash looks more like a digital alarm clock and it doesn’t come with dual-disc brakes? But maybe it’s less of an identity crisis and more of a false identity. For instance, Husqvarna outfits the Svartpilen with dirt tracker styling yet they can’t endorse taking the low slung machine off-road. Even with the aesthetic hinting at dirt-capabilities, the Svartpilen is essentially a naked bike with knobbies. 

Broadcasting a false image can ensnare potential buyers - or it can turn them off (like it did for me). Intoxicated by the snappy acceleration of the 401, I actually looked into purchasing a Svartpilen following the demo. But the lack of off-road capability soon soured my initial enthusiasm. If it can’t hang in the brown, why outfit it with Pirelli Scorpions? Why adopt tracker design cues? What’s the point of making form decision if it’s contrary to the function? That disillusionment made me look at the Svartpilen & Vitpilen differently. 

With an MSRP of $6,299 for the 401 and $11,999 for the 701, it’s easy to see why the KTM-owned brand is having problems moving units. Coupled with the unconventional design (which I actually love but can understand how some wouldn’t), Husqvarna has it’s work cut out. Along with the lackluster sales figures of the Svartpilen & Vitpilen, the Real Street Demo stop in Azusa failed to highlight the full capabilities of models. With the near highway miles away, riders were relegated to a jaunt around the block. As a result, I never got the gearbox past 3rd and that doesn’t instill much confidence in potential customers. The combination of disorganization, bikes-to-rider ratio, wait times, and early wrap-up, I’d venture to say that the demo barely moved the needle on these two bikes.

RIDE THE WORLD: Valley of the Sheeps 🏞️🐏🐑 (Somewhere in Scotland)

Let’s just get this out of the way, I wouldn’t buy the GT 650 or INT 650 as my second bike. I’d buy it as my first.

Up to this point, I’ve been judging motorcycles based on my personal search for a second motorcycle. My criteria consisted of 4 qualities: cheap, dirt-capable, lightweight, and powerful (added after I rode the Himalayan). On that note, neither of Royal Enfield's new Twins meets those standards. Let’s just get this out of the way, I wouldn’t buy the GT 650 or INT 650 as my second bike. I’d buy it as my first.

Due to my first experience with Royal Enfield’s Himalayan, I had low expectations for the brand’s new 650s. The underwhelming power delivery, over-anxious brakes, and inconsistent suspension of the mini-ADV left me skeptical of Royal Enfield full lineup. It’s safe to say that I reeked of a dismissive air when I swung a leg over the INT, but my generalization of the brand was quickly remedied with the first whack of the throttle. 

Every motorcyclist knows the feeling of a good pull. It’s when the acceleration pushes you back in the saddle, when the rear shock compresses and the fork lightens, when you tighten your grip on the handlebars for fear of sliding off the back. My first pull on the INT 650 delivered such a sensation, so much that I said (out loud), “Whoa! That’s more like it!”

That 648 cc, single overhead cam engine that sent me hurtling through space and time happens to be the heart of the new Twins. With a torquey low-end power delivery, the engine boasts an exciting edge yet retains an affable disposition. Whether you’re running the Twins through their paces or cruising about town, the middleweight mill is happy to comply. For those hipsters looking for a CB750 or XS650, you no longer have to sacrifice reliability for aesthetics. The GT and INT 650 gives you the best of both worlds with smooth, efficient EFI fuel distribution and cafe racer styling. 

In my short time with the models, engine heat never factored into the equation either. Even with that day’s temperature topping 90° F, the oil/air-cooled mule inside the Twins never skipped a beat, even when the pace hastened. Although Royal’s 650s did get up to interstate speeds without hesitation, I should note that both models feel more at home on surface streets. The torquey motor benefits the urbanite from stoplight-to-stoplight and the lack of wind protection would quickly fatigue riders on longer journeys. 

Along with the punchy power delivery, the width of the frame, handlebars, and pegs allow the commuter to squeeze through the narrowest of spaces. I wish Royal’s Twins were on the market when I started riding because they’re great options for those just starting out, especially when it comes to the controls.

Like all of Royal Enfield’s lineup, the GT & INT opt for simplicity. The company tends to label its approach as “Purist” and a quick glance at the controls will drive that point home. Without the luxury of a TFT display, cruise control, or heated grips, the controls of the Twins are minimalist. That facet helps developing riders concentrate on the road instead of fiddling with menus and settings, allowing them to get comfortable with the clutch, throttle, and most importantly, the brakes.

Both models boast a single 320mm floating rotor with a two-piston ByBre caliper up front and a 240mm floating rotor clamped by a single-piston caliper out back. ByBre, the Indian subsidiary of Brembo, provides the braking components. I know what you’re thinking (Indian-made Brembos?), but the stopping power achieved with these “budget” calipers really do the job. Coupled with the 41mm fork and piggyback shocks, the braking system brings the hefty 450 lb bike to an even and controlled stop. Yes, neither component truly stands out on these bikes, when it comes to brakes and suspension, that’s usually a good thing!

It’s true that the INT & GT 650 share the same 648 SOHC engine, ByBre brakes, double-cradle steel frame, 41mm conventional forks, and coil-over rear suspension. However, they do differ in two major categories: aesthetics and ergonomics. The INT opts for a pseudo-scrambler look with high-rise handlebars (w. crossbar), bench-style seat, and mid-mount pegs. While the GT sports proper cafe racer cosmetics with clip-ons, single-seat (w. cowl), and rear sets. 

Despite the ergo divergence, both the Twins handled responsively, although I wouldn’t call them lithe. The added girth of the larger engine means that the supporting package needs beefing up (compared to other Royal Enfield models). As a result, the 650s weigh more than any other Royal Enfield and the extra poundage is evident in the corners. I wouldn't label the Twins as unwieldy, but I also couldn’t praise them as flickable.

As a cruiser rider, the upright posture of the INT felt more natural, but the GT also proved the advantages of aggressive body positioning. With my abdomen lower to the tank, wind resistance was less of a factor and the direct input of the clip-ons resulted in a more reactive quality from the front end. Though the INT responded well to all of my inputs, I could dart through traffic on the GT (even if that feeling is primarily psychological - due to the ergonomics). For that reason, I think I’d side with the GT, as I’d primarily use both of Royal Enfield’s 650 in the city - and that’s where most consumers will ride these bikes.

With a base MSRP of $5,799, the GT & INT would be a viable starter bike for commuting students and city-dwellers. While most people warn novice riders against buying a 600+ cc motorcycle out of the gate, the 42 horses and 37 ft-lb of torque make the Twins manageable for newcomers. 

The retro-styling of the models will definitely appeal to a younger crowd and the affordable price point keeps them within reach. New riders tend to focus more on the aesthetics, but they will inevitably drop the bike (...a few times) and a lower price tag always helps to cushion those falls. If I were in the market for a first bike now, I would seriously reconsider buying the Harley-Davidson Sportster Iron 883, and I LOVED that bike.

If you’re new to the sport or searching for your first bike, I’d strongly suggest a test ride of the GT/INT 650. The combination of aesthetics, price point, approachable demeanor, and simplicity make Royal Enfield’s Twins a very attractive package. Not to mention, the 3-year, unlimited miles warranty with roadside assistance, reinforces the build quality of these machines. Believe me, If the company released a dirt-capable twin at a lighter curb weight, I’d be all over it. While that’s irrelevant when it comes to these models, the experience wasn’t for not. 

Would you ride a Cafe Racer? 🤔