Another day of perfect weather for throwing a leg over the motorcycle and exploring. Today’s ride: North through Stuart and Meadows of Dan, Virginia to Rocky Knob, then home.
Blame the pandemic. With my usual travel out the window I started thinking about ways to satisfy my wanderlust without hopping on a plane. More cycling? I was getting burned out after decades on a bike and needed a break. Flying? Recent time in the left seat of a Cessna made that an appealing prospect, but then there’s the massive bureaucratic headache and expense of obtaining a private ticket. My mind wandered to motorcycles. Years ago, I owned a BMW R100/7 that had carried me on a wet, windy journey from Michigan to Tennessee and back. Maybe that was it….
I hadn’t been on a bike in years so I spent a fun weekend at the BMW Rider Academy reminding myself of how perishable riding skills are, survived it, then started thinking about the kind of motorcycle that would make sense for me.
I loved my R100. It was easy to ride, not powerful enough to scare me, and simple to maintain. I poked around on Cycle Trader for a last generation R100, and some of its contemporaries including the BMW K75s. But I had this niggling thought: Those are interesting and fun bikes, but as my time on a BMW G310 showed me, motorcycles have come a long way. ABS, traction control and selectable ride modes aren’t exotic stuff. They’re the norm these days.
I’ll leave details of my shopping for another time, but I kept coming back to the idea of an adventure bike. Something road focused, but with the ability to tackle gravel roads if I got the urge. Size was the intimidating thing. Have you ever stood next to a BMW GS? Those are huge, man. But they have their advantages: Wind protection, comfort, and versatility. A friend pointed me toward a Suzuki V-Strom. Intriguing, but it didn’t grab me. I read about the new Triumph Trident 660 and started thinking again about a standard bike. That led to a trip to Select Cycle in Greensboro, which had one for a millisecond before it flew out the door.
One look told me the Trident was way too small for me. I walked around a Tiger 850 Sport. Right size (comfortable but not gigantic). Great specs. A good value.
I scheduled a test ride.
I hadn’t been on this powerful a bike since riding a BMW R1100RS in the mid-’90s. I felt a bit of trepidation. I shouldn’t have. It was surprisingly easy to ride. I was sold, and put down a deposit that afternoon.
After 1,300 miles on the Triumph Tiger 850 Sport, here’s what I’ve learned:
- It rides like a much lighter motorcycle. The Tiger weighs in at 478 pounds, but the weight distribution makes it feel far more nimble and manageable than I expected. This is particularly noticeable at low speeds. In traffic I can idle along at 2-3 mph without putting a foot down. Tight turns make me feel like I’m riding a bike that’s 100 pounds lighter. A light press on the handlebars or weighting the footpegs is enough to quickly change direction.
- The Tiger 850 has a brilliant engine. It’s the same 888cc motor from a Triumph Tiger 900, but tuned to deliver more usable torque in most situations. I’m still breaking it in so I haven’t approached the redline, but for most riding that’s not a problem. From about 2,500 RPM the engine pulls strongly, even if you’re poking along in fourth or fifth gear.
- The transmission is similarly great, though my impressions may be biased by the quick shifter option. I’ll never own a bike without one. Flicking through gears without using the clutch is a game changer. It makes riding simpler and safer, without taking away any of the fun of picking your own gear.
- The drive by wire throttle is a mixed bag. I like the anti-stall feature—that slight increase in revs that automatically accompanies releasing the clutch—but the throttle itself can be a bit touchy. I’m planning to install a Kaoko throttle stabilizer to introduce more friction and give my right hand a rest during long highway stretches.
- Comfort is what I expected. There’s plenty of room to stretch out and I’ve never felt cramped, whether I’m in the city, on backroads, or Interstates. Long miles won’t be a problem. And those optional heated grips put out some serious warmth.
- The brakes are serious stoppers. But then, they’re the same Brembos used on high end sport bikes.
- Wind protection is good for my 6’2″ frame, but not perfect. A set of Puig deflectors should improve things.
- The TFT display has configurable options for showing revs, speed and other data, and automatically changes brightness in response to ambient light. It works, but the odd batwing shaped tachometer isn’t easily readable. My default is a display with numerical tach, numerical speed, oil temp, fuel level and gear indicator. It’s simple and it works.
- One bit of weirdness: The stock Michelin Anakee tires generate some disturbing harmonics when cornering. I kept asking, “What’s that sound?” then noticed online comments that echoed mine. It took a while but I’ve tuned out the noise.
My inner 12 year old demanded to go explore, so after knocking off a few tasks indoors I took the Tiger on a back road excursion to Pilot Mountain and back. It was a good day for scoping out the fall colors (and for heated grips).
The last Shell gas station of its kind is in Winston Salem, NC.
What happens when you leave your smartwatch at home and strap on a mechanical analog timepiece? Joy.
Here’s what I didn’t notice as I fell into the habit of wearing an Apple Watch: The convenience of having easy access to data, right there on my wrist, turned into a never-ending series of micro obligations. Forget summoning info when I needed it. Even with alerts toned down to what I thought was a manageable level, the watched constantly nagged me. Look. At. Me. it said.
As I was packing for a weekend trip I was about to grab my Watch charger and thought, screw that. One more thing to plug into the wall? No thanks.
I grabbed my Seiko instead. It’s not a precious watch, or valuable. It’s a tool, albeit one with a nice-enough mechanical movement that keeps decent time. It’s not subtle either, because it’s got some heft and a bright orange dial. The name of this model, Monster, suits it.
An hour after putting it on, I noticed something. My watch wasn’t talking to me or giving me inaudible but intrusive feedback. It sat there on my wrist, ticking and waiting to tell me the time, when I wanted it. Joy.
I wore it after I returned from my trip. I’m wearing it today. I’ll probably wear it tomorrow, too.