Scramblers, Sportbikes, Cruisers, ADVs

Important realizations, penetrating insights, and mind-opening clarity rarely happen for me sitting in front of a computer. No, the good stuff comes from the saddle of a motorcycle, so I appreciate the minimum of 300 miles a week that I ride as an opportunity to alter my worldview. To see things a little differently. To let the road occupy the conscious mind and let the subconscious churn. Honestly, the hardest part is maintaining the Zen long enough to get the thoughts on paper or into a computer.

Sometimes realizations are powerful enough that they stick without further effort. This one did. One morning, as I sat on my long-term BMW S1000XR making good time through traffic, it struck me that my moto world had, simply, become too small.

In the past few years, as my personal motorcycling needs have shifted away from supporting a string of GSX-R sportbikes, I have gravitated toward adventure-touring and ADV-like bikes. These upright machines appeal to me because I don't bend like I used to—my willingness to pretzel up for the sake of raw performance has waned slowly through the years—and because the ADV segment now has some seriously high-performance bikes. There's no way to call the XR slow or to say the KTM 1290 Super Adventure is lacking in thrust. On the right road, as fast as I'm willing to ride on the street, this class of bike presents no obstacle to having a good time. I get my performance thirst slaked with relatively few compromises—and get a good traveling machine in the bargain.

It's amusing to think that a long trip I took years ago on my GSX-R750 was greeted with equal parts awe and derision from my friends, who were aboard much more accommodating bikes. "You're going to ride that as many miles a day as we ride these?" they said. At the time, I was comfortable and contented. My only frustration was the Suzuki's short range.

Back to the realization, then. I was shocked to discover that I had become that guy, the smug ADV lover all too ready to remind the sportbike rider or the cruiser owner that there are clearly better machines for the job. It smacked of a closed mind.

Over the next few weeks, I made an effort to ride a much wider variety of bikes. Yes, I know that I have an unfair advantage that is our small fleet of testbikes, but this works on an intellectual level as well, so stick with me.

I rode sportbikes, big cruisers, electric bikes, baggers, touring bikes, café racers—the lot. It was a useful exercise to put myself in the minds of other riders, to tease out what is so appealing about each type of bike, why you might be attracted to X or Y. At each new bike, I reset my expectations by dropping the question, "Would I buy this bike?" and instead asking, "What is good about it? Why do people buy this thing?"

It was a liberating experience, in large part because it forced me to break a bond I’ve long held dear: Motorcycles need to be practical, to do more than look good, sound good, and feel good.

Wrong. As trite as it sounds, motorcycling can be about mocking function. It can be about doing something that doesn’t quite make sense. It can be pure expression and joy, without a reason or an explanation. I was a little chagrined to realize I’d lost that perspective and have vowed to keep my practical and emotional sides in better balance.