In the Texas panhandle I passed the biggest cross in America. You can't miss it... it's a huge thing sticking up out of a huge piece of nowhere in Groom. It appears to be about 30 stories high and made of corrugated sheet metal. There was a crowd gathered at its dusty base. I said a prayer for all the poor souls in the world with too much time on their hands.
It turned out I should have said a prayer for myself instead, as later that day I was struck limp by a nasty case of the flu that lasted for four days and four nights. Evidently, God didn't think the cross was as absurd as I did. And when my fever and the ambient temperature swelled well above the 100-degree mark, I did indeed feel like I was being punished.
Still two days away from Asheville and my Honda Hoot destination, I stubbornly rode on. It was pathetic and I don't recommend it. What I do recommend however, sick or not, is carrying water on or near your person when riding in intense heat. I had the perfect setup. The Wolfman "Rambler" sissybar pack I'd procured for the ride had many advantages , the most ingenious being a long side pocket perfect for a medium-sized Camelbak water bladder. I rode the last 800 miles to Asheville with the tube draped over my shoulder and nozzle in my mouth. I drank constantly and chewed the plastic to stay alert.
Thanks to the Aero's underwhelming 4.2-gallon fuel capacity, and poor mileage due to consistent winds and high speed, I got to stop for potty breaks every 90 to 100 miles. When you're riding long days, stops at this interval are usually appreciated, at least by your rear end, and they're even recommended for clearing your head. What I didn't like about the limited fuel economy was having to constantly monitor the distance I'd be able to travel. For example, having to stop at 40 miles in case there wasn't another station for 50 miles. This happened many times on the trip and left me disgruntled. Why doesn't this bike have a five-gallon tank?
While I'm on my soapbox I have another question. Why doesn't the electronic odometer offer more than one trip meter? It would be nice -- and seems simple -- for it to supply a bank of meters so riders could measure tank, daily and overall miles on a trip.
When I finally rose from my half-dead state and emerged from my hotel room in Asheville, I was able to flash the Aero around town for the admiring Hoot attendees. All across the country, in fact, people were smitten by the bike's looks. Many, unsurprisingly, thought it was a Harley. A couple wouldn't believe it wasn't, even though it said Honda right on the tank. I felt proud riding it, and that's a pretty big statement coming from me.
I generally don't acknowledge a bike for its outward appearance, and really don't give a hoot if people like looking at it. If it feels good and works well I'm happy riding it. However, my view does matter somewhat -- what I see when I'm looking out over the cockpit for hours on end. The Aero's got that pageant in the bag too. I just groove on the white-faced headlight-mounted speedo (although the internally lighting failed somewhere along the way). The indicator light panel on the handlebar was aesthetically pleasing as well, but I couldn't see the lights at all mid-day. If it were angled or had some kind of hood it would be more useful.
Before blasting out of Asheville and what I hoped would be a cooler ride home via I-70, I stopped into MR Motorcycle and Marine for a quick oil and filter change for my Aero, which I had now grown quite fond of. MR is a wonderful multi-brand dealer with lots of goodies and a friendly, abundant staff. They didn't know me from Eve -- really -- yet treated me as if I were some motojournalist about to give them a plug in a national magazine.
Back on the road pointed west I no longer had the luxury of lollygagging. I had five days to get back to California. Period. Even after consecutive 500- and 600-mile days all body parts except for my butt remained content -- although I'm sure I was a spectacle in some of the unlikely positions I came up with casting myself about the deck of the Aero. I'd started on this journey expecting two things to be major comfort issues: engine heat and vibration. Surprisingly neither became a real issue. For one thing the weather was so darn stifling I couldn't tell what direction the heat was coming from. And when things did heat up between the knees, I'd simply let them swing wide. Vibration was certainly present and accounted for, especially through the floorboards at cruising revs and the tank at higher rpm. But it was never more than a petty annoyance.
During the long days on the plains dodging thunderstorms, my mind burned with questions. Why is Kansas City in Missouri? What do people do with all the great big spools of hay? How many highway workers have died from heat stroke? And how fast will this bike go, anyway? Since we don't break the law at Motorcycle Cruiser Magazine, I can't say I know the answer to that last question, but you might be impressed if I did.
The Aero's 1099cc 45-degree V-twin delivers a goodish supply of power for most applications. Power is delivered readily and very steadily at every rpm until it hits its limit and flattens out entirely. I felt let down by the lack of available power a couple of times. One was during an intense headwind and the other on a high-spirited romp on a back road over the 8000-foot summit of Strawberry Daniel Pass in Utah. I'd picked up a couple of riders in a construction zone and was playfully leading them through the roller coaster-like sweepers. At a gas stop they said it was like following a truck; faster than heck down the hills and slower than @#*& going up. Geez. And I was downshifting.
I did my highest mileage on the last two days. By now I was so well conditioned to riding that it felt normal to sit on the bike for 12 hours a day. What felt weird was getting off. Finally I had my sea legs. I enjoyed those last days immensely.
There are many common sights on the trans-continental highway, and I'm not talking traffic cones and tire treads. Has anyone else noticed how many small white crosses line our highways these days? They're not just on the reservations or along the southern border anymore. I saw them everywhere. And although they saddened me, they were also a constant reminder of something very important: Life is a journey...so let's enjoy the trip.
If you'd like to share your favorite ride that is 100 to 500 miles long and includes at least one interesting stop, send details of the route and your contact information to Motorcycle Cruiser, 6420 Wilshire Blvd. Floor 17, Los Angeles, CA 90048-5515; or e-mail Jamie.Elvidge@primedia.com.