Getting There

Getting there

LEANINGS

Peter Egan

YOU'D THINK WE'D HAVE THIS STUFF figured out by now.

Only days before we left for Daytona, my friends Bruce Finlayson and Chris Beebe and I were still trying to decide on the best way to get our bikes down there from Wisconsin.

Hard-core types, of course, had suggested we ride to Daytona.

Some years that might have been a good idea, but not in 1993, one of the worst winters since the Ice Age, which, incidentally, ended with a glacial stage called the “Wisconsinian.” With snowstorms in the north and freezing rain predicted as far south as Atlanta, we didn’t even consider riding.

And then there was last year’s vivid lesson, still fresh in my mind. I hauled my bike to Daytona in my old Chevy van, wishing all the way down that I had ridden because the weather was beautiful. But on the way home I drove into a blizzard just north of Nashville. Counting on March weather in the Midwest is about like buying a cobra for a pet because “he hardly ever gets mad.”

So it was trailers or trucks. Which brings us to one of the key questions in all of motorcycling: What’s the best way to haul a bike?

In our case, we had several options. There was my Chevy van, which is set up to hold two bikes. Unfortunately, the door is too low for a BMW R100RS (the bike Bruce was taking to Daytona) unless you remove the windscreen. Doable, but an inconvenience.

My Electra Glide Sport (which I was planning to take) also needs its windshield removed. And wrestling a big Harley with saddlebags up a ramp and into the back of a van is no treat. Always makes you feel like the loser in some kind of rodeo event involving a Brahma bull and a short piece of rope.

If we’d had just two motorcycles, I suppose I could have loaded them into the van somehow, but we had three. Chris was bringing his Honda GB500, which meant the trailer would have to come into service. I have a fairly sturdy bike trailer that holds three dirtbikes or two large street bikes. So, (we asked) why not put the two big motorcycles on the trailer and Chris’s small GB in the van? Good idea.

But wait. I had on loan from Road & Track (the other magazine I write for) a brand-new Chevy Suburban long-term test vehicle, much nicer to drive than my tired old van, with big comfortable seats and a good sound system. Why not carry two bikes on the trailer and put Chris’s GB500 in the back of the Suburban?

Which is what we did. Chris removed the wheels and mirrors, made a wooden pallet for the Honda, and we slid it into the back of the Suburban. I ended up taking my Norton rather than the Harley because on our windswept Departure Day, the Commando was easier to roost through the snow drifts between my workshop and the house.

In the end, we made the trip just fine, though it took Chris an hour at either end of the drive to reassemble his bike. Also, our “outdoor” bikes got completely encrusted with road salt on the way down, so we had to stop near Macon at an all-night car wash to hose them off. Our 22 hours down and back, however, gave us plenty of time to ponder the pros and cons of bike transport. Herewith a few conclusions:

Pickup trucks are nice; my friend Allan Girdler swears by his Dodge. They keep most of the road grime off your bike, and compared to a van, they are relatively easy to load because bike height is no problem and you can stand upright in broad daylight rather than creep around like a U-boat diesel mechanic. Cons? High bed height, so you need a good ramp. Also, your bikes are still outside, as is much of your gear, especially if you have three or four people, even in an extended cab.

Allan and Nancy Girdler visited us last summer and spent three days drying their luggage after a summer thunderstorm en route. We sent them home with everything wrapped in black garbage bags. Not ideal. And then there’s theft. Why not put a Kmartstyle flashing blue light on the roof?

Pickups are nicer than vans to drive and see out of, but I wouldn’t want one unless I lived in a drier climate.

My bike-collecting friend Kenny Bahl drives an El Camino. Pretty nice. Lower than a pickup and more compact, but all the other pickup truck problems pertain. Two bikes and two people only, not much gear.

Vans? Nearly ideal but for the aforementioned height problems and tiedown claustrophobia. On the pro side, your stuff is inside, and you can carry four people, two bikes, coolers, cargo and luggage in one dry, easy-tomaneuver package. Also, a co-pilot can go aft and check the tiedowns. Theft requires breaking and entering, rather than just lifting.

Rail-type bike trailers? Most are easy to load; you can tow them with almost anything; they are fairly inexpensive; you can keep an eye on the bikes in your rearview mirror. Cons? Clumsy to park and drive around town; salt and road spray blow back on the bikes; the whole trailer can be stolen, with bikes, if you don’t chain it down; tailgating drivers can make you edgy. I drove through Chicago rush hour last fall with a brand new Ducati 900SS (uninsured) on my trailer, and I’m still flinching, six months later.

Conclusion? The ideal combination, we decided, would be to have a good reliable (newer) van and a fully enclosed bike trailer with a drop tail for easy loading. With those two things, there is virtually no combination of bikes, people or luggage that couldn’t be carried in dry, serene comfort.

All it takes is money.

Which is why next March will probably find us trying to cram two bikes into the old Chevy van, while Chris disassembles the GB500 into half a dozen cartons for UPS shipment to the Daytona Sands Motel.

Seems all three of us keep spending our annual truck and trailer fund on motorcycles. Or margaritas at the beach.

Still, it may be time to grow up and solve the transport problem for good. Salt on your Norton is an ugly sight.