Speed The Wheel: The 800-Mile Caffé Africano
As motorcyclists, generally speaking, we tend to be a bit more whimsical and spontaneous than your average Joe. We prefer to cling to the youthful endeavor of chasing desires—however pointless, however ridiculous. I say this without apology. A motorcycle will do that to you. Adult responsibilities are constantly conspiring to wrench the remaining youthful aspects from us and spoil our fun, whereas motorcycles seem to help stave off the trying circumstances of life.
Let’s face it, whether we’re talking track days, Sunday rides, or cross-country trips, a lot of what we do on two wheels can be chalked up to sheer frivolity. This is exemplified by many of the sojourns we embark on each year. Fueled by some vague excuse, we head off to places unknown. It’s rarely about the destination. The magic is in the going, in being gone.
Some years back, I was yearning for the 90-odd serpentine miles of SR 1 that skirt the Pacific Ocean between Hearst Castle and Carmel, CA. This is the stretch of coastline poet Robinson Jeffers called “the greatest meeting of land and sea in the world.” Slow-moving motorhomes notwithstanding, it is perhaps the finest combination of riding and beauty I’ve ever experienced.