By Paul Mondor
www.paulmondor.com
Dec 15h 2007 – Jan 4th 2008

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Just thought I’d take some time to post a trip report from a recent camping excursion that took me from Thunder Bay, ON to Guelph, ON through August 12th to the 21st. It was an incredible experience – and I hope from this report you’ll be able to gain a real sense of just what the experience was like on the CBR125R. Maybe it will inspire you to do the same.

My goal for the trip was to take what I had learned from my preparatory trip in May 2010 when I traveled from Thunder Bay, ON to Winnipeg, MB on my 2009 CBR125R (see here: http://www.hondacbr125r.com/forum/showthread.php?t=5709) and improve upon it. One addition involved taking along a Camptime Roll-A-Cot (see: http://www.rei.com/product/378067) to improve sleeping comfort and to maximize utility and space inside my new (and so far chipmunk free) tent. The cot sits 15″ above the floor and allows you to store all your gear underneath so you’re not sleeping in it – during the night. Also there is just something about sleeping off the ground that seems to contribute to a much better nights sleep. In selecting my new tent, I wanted one that packed up small, was self-standing, and easy to set up. I also decided to try a single-walled tent this time out so I wouldn’t have to fiddle with a fly. The tent I picked for this adventure was the Nemo Andi (see: http://www.amazon.com/NEMO-Andi-Ultr…/dp/B003F5UNP4)

I’m really liking this tent. It is extremely quick to set up and it fits in one of my saddlebags. I carry the poles (only 2 poles!!) on the back of the bike. One other change from my last trip involved bringing a small pack for clothes and extra items. On my last adventure I didn’t quite have enough room for extra clothes and smaller camping luxuries. This time, I even brought along a tarp just in case I got rained on in the parks. When it rains – a tarp can turn an otherwise claustrophobic “I can’t believe I’ve been trapped in my tiny tent all day” anhedonic nightmare into a “Wow – it’s great to be sipping a cold one with my legs stretched out – enjoying the views while dry under this tarp” blissful euphoria. Well no blissful euphoria for me – I never had a chance to use it on the trip – so it just took up space in my pack. However, when you have a need for it – it really contributes to camping morale in my experience.

Here is another photo of the bike packed up. I changed the packing configuration a few times during the trip to ease setup and take-down and to improve aerodynamics. As you can see from the photo, seating was initially rather cramped too and after a few quick stops it felt like I had been hijacked by a rabid mongoose who had mistaken my nutsack for a cobra.

I set off around 10am with a goal to stop every hour for fuel and to take a break. I found that if I stopped every hour, this effectively eliminated any soreness or stiffness throughout the day and really allowed me to enjoy the ride. Even a 5 minute break made a world of difference after 1 hour on the road. The weather was sunny and clear when I left – and it remained so for most of the trip. My first stop occurred in Nipigon, ON for fuel just after around 100kms into the trip. I have traveled the Trans Canada Highway 17 East of Thunder Bay countless times over the past 20 years – through rain, blizzards, severe cold, heat, fog – you name it. It is an incredibly scenic drive – and the views are always breathtaking. However, I had never traveled the route on a motorcycle before so I was eager to re-experience this route from a riding perspective. One great thing I have found personally about riding (as opposed to driving a car) is that it forces me to take my time – and in the end I see so much more and the experience is so much more rewarding. I made a point of stopping at lookouts along the way that I had passed by many times over the years.

The photo below was taken from a highway lookout East of Nipigon, ON on the first of a number of long climbs along the shores of Lake Superior. While most of the climbs involve 500-700 ft gains in elevation above the lake, the CBR125R took these in stride and was able to maintain a minimal speed of 80 km/hr up the longer grades – full loaded – while maintaining a speed of between 100-105 km/hr on the flat stretches. Most traffic slows too when climbing these grades, so it never felt like I was holding up traffic. Actually, I passed a number of tractor trailers and R.V.s up these hills. You can see a bit of the town of Nipigon in the distance. Some people have compared the scenery north of Lake Superior to that seen along the Cabot Trail on Cape Breton Island, N.S.

When taking these photos I met a fellow from Vancouver Island who was traveling with his daughter (and their dog) across Canada. When I told him that I was heading to Guelph, he mentioned that he studied Agriculture there many years ago. He also reflected on a variety of bikes he owned over the years (including an older Triumph) and I mentioned that I had recently picked up a Yamaha WR250R – shipped to me all the way to Thunder Bay from Courtenay, B.C. He said “Wow, that’s a pretty small bike”. And I responded with “But the black CBR that you saw me climb off of in the parking area is only 125cc’s. That’s what I’m heading to Guelph on”. This was the first of many similar exchanges I had with people who had no idea that the CBR was not – in fact – a big bike. It was extremely fun and rewarding in a devious way to witness the look of shock on their faces when I mentioned the bike’s displacement. Though I didn’t realize it at the time – the thought of riding alone for over 3200 kms – in some remote parts of Ontario – would seem like a lonely, isolating experience for many people. Yet every day was filled with such friendly, collegial banter from all kinds of interesting travelers – curious to know where you were riding to, and what you had seen along the way. No – the trip was far from being a lonely and isolating experience.

As we were talking – a train appeared and started to snake its way along the shoreline – so I decided to snap another photo.

I wished my fellow travelers a great trip – and then moved on. A short while later I decided to stop near the bottom of another long climb to take a few photos at a picnic area. I pulled up alongside a cyclist – just one of many I passed who were travelling across Canada. He asked me if I had seen a group of cyclists back my way. I mentioned that there was indeed a group about 10 kms back. He had been riding with them for a bit but they were experiencing some mechanical difficulties that put them behind. He actually recognized my bike as a CBR125 – and said he was hoping to buy one in the near future. As I took a few photos, a car drove by and honked. It was the fellow from the last lookout. I took a few more photos and then continued on my adventure.

It was at this point that I was suddenly confronted with an unforeseen dilemma. “Should I take another photo?….or risk ruining the moment by stopping and spoiling the immediacy of the experience – the Gestalt unraveling before me – as I was riding by. This kind of experience just simply doesn’t captivate you the same way in a car. A motorcycle immerses you – you become a part of the experience – and the experience feels so much richer. I decided to seize the moment – just enjoy it – but promised myself that I would try to re-capture these moments again on my camera on the return trip – hoping that the views would patiently wait for my return.

Riding the CBR125R for lengthy stretches on the highway requires considerable attention, skill, patience, physical endurance, as well as an insatiable appetite for adventure to help you overcome anxious thoughts about how numb your lower back feels. It can be taxing. So you’d think that with all this exertion – time would seem to slow down and the destination would seem to be forever out of reach. Yet – I didn’t find this. The bike is too engaging to ride – to ever get boring. Tucking behind the fairing – changing gears – streamlining my profile to extract a few extra kms of speed. Riding the CBR is like playing a video game. Before I knew it – I had reached my first stop for the night. I was about 430 kms from Thunder Bay and only about 50 kms from Wawa. My highway escapade was coming to an end for the day.

I had passed by Obatanga Provincial Park often on my way East and always wondered what it would be like to camp there. My parents and my two younger sisters stayed there overnight on their way to Expo ’86 in Vancouver. At the time I elected to stay home and relished the prospect of having the house to myself and living each day to the fullest at the beach with my friends. Now at Obatanga, I wondered which site my family stayed at in 1986. On this occasion, the park was virtually empty with a few scattered trailers and tents strewned throughout the park. I was given what is called a “walk-in site”. These are by far my favourite provincial park sites. They are typically on the water – and the privacy really enhances the camping experience. You park near the road – and then walk into your site along a short path. Here is what it looked like.

And here was my view for the evening.

What would the night bring? Stay tuned.

Click here for Part 2…

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What an amazing day! The weather was just about perfect, although it did get a tad too warm mid-afternoon.

BAD Ride 13 had in attendance about 1300 riders and huge praises need to go out to the organizers and all the volunteers for managing that many bikes and riders in one day at two main venues as well as corralling us at the lunch stop.

The Big Banana!

My day started off pretty early at 7am as I headed off to my bosses place. My truck wasn’t up to the task of driving around all day so we made arrangements to borrow a truck from Kahuna Powersports to tow our trailer, which allowed me to handle two bikes should the need arise. This truck was a monster and although I felt a bit dwarfed standing beside it, driving it with the trailer was easy. Luckily I had a lot of experience from when I used to tow race cars, so by comparison this was a cinch.

We arrived at the AMC theatre in Woodbridge with hundreds of bike already present, although hundreds more would steadily trickle in. I was pretty thankful for the free coffee and breakfast available to everyone and there were several vendors there selling various ‘BAD Ride’ clothing with 100% of the proceeds going to the Distress Centres.

Bikes packed everywhere!

Bikes were everywhere crammed into every nook and cranny of the complex. Although mostly cruisers and touring bikes, there were also many custom bikes and some rather eclectic ones…not to mention some very eclectic riders too and their choice in clothing left me scratching my head. Then again, I still scratch my head when I see riders wearing virtually nothing at all, especially the young lady passengers who wear shorts, a tank top and high-heel shoes. Ya…that’s practical.

After several announcements by the organizers and local radio personalities (including a last minute route change), the riders started departing around 10am. The temperature was starting to climb so riders were eager to get on the road and get some wind blowing against them. It was quite an amazing site watching all the bikes ripping out of the parking lot as they took to the well laid out route. Taking up the rear of the pack rode several volunteer paramedics and a couple organizer trucks and finally us with our MotoLimo.com trucks ready to pick up whatever riders that needed assistance.

I had programmed the route into my GPS but it turns out that I really didn’t need too. The route was very well marked with large signs at all the turning points (including the last minute changes due to a road closure).

As for the route itself, it was well thought out and kept us away from major roads so that we would neither affect traffic much or be effected by it. There were only a couple of intersections that caused us problems. There were also a couple of sections that were nice and twisty but some spots left me surprised that nobody had crashed with the loose gravel (even in some tight corners).

Arriving in Pefferlaw for lunch was a sight to behold. Once again all the riders had been well corralled by the organizers leaving the streets and sidewalks lined with bikes stretching the entire length of the small town. We also filled every available parking lot. Locals of the town stood slack-jawed staring at all the bikes rolling around their streets. I’m sure thoughts of an invasion crossed their minds. Not one person seemed upset (they were pre-warned that we were coming) and once they realized that it was a charity ride, they smiled and told us to enjoy our day (although I did see a few ladies clutching their purses rather tightly). Bikers are a very misunderstood breed and can sometimes look a little scary covered in leather and tattoos but not a single rider needed to be feared. Motorcyclists are the salt of the earth and will give a stranger the shirt (or leather vest) off their back if needed. It’s a shame that we are so misunderstood but perhaps that’s a topic for another post.

Most riders just stopped to cool down and rehydrate before continuing along the route but others hung around for lunch. We took the time to grab a quick bite so that we could allow the riders to all get back on the road ahead of us. I had already stopped several times to check on riders that had pulled off the road to make sure they were ok. Most just needed a break to rest their sore bums or grab a drink but as the day wore on, I expected that I would find more and I did. Although not one rider actually needed assistance to make it to the final end point at Markham Fairgrounds. No rider wants to get picked up from the side of the road but especially on a ride like this.

So many bikes!

Arriving at the fairgrounds, we once again saw over a thousand motorcycles all shoe-horned side by side as the riders started lining up for lunch and refreshments. Water was being handed out to those waiting in a rather long line to get their meals. Once again…hats off to the volunteers!

We set up our main truck in a nice visible spot with the sun gleaming off it (and beating down on us) and talked to riders who passed by about our services. By late afternoon, I was pretty tired and despite all the water I was drinking, I was still feeling dehydrated.

But alas, my day wasn’t over. I had to go pick up two bikes and finally get the truck and trailer back to my bosses place. It was a long day but a very enjoyable one.

Getting your MotoLimo Mojo going!

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Dirty Girls Scooter Run 2010
By: Jacqueline Mortlock

In January this year I approached Jonway Scooters with an absurd idea – would a small 150cc scooter handle a distance of 2200km, punished by off-road challenges like being ridden over pebble beaches and dirt roads. Could these little machines cope with a lot of mistreatment and get from Cape Town to Durban safely and without incident? Quinton Prinsloo Marketing manager of the Jonway brand in South Africa was in no doubt that we could make the journey without occurrence and he gave us five bikes to prove it.

A popular definition of a scooter is a motorcycle engine put into a cute frame designed for housewives and students to go shopping in their pencil skirts and pumps. Designed for short commutes like milk runs and getting to lectures.
Dirty Girls decided to gauge the bikes capacity by tormenting them in every possible way with a view to redefining a common conception – that a scooter would never survive the punishment we were about to dole out. We packed up and left Jhb to commence our journey on the 03 May.

Day 1
Cape Town to Cape Aughulas -295 kms.

Its 8am outside Cape Town’s splendid Graden Court and I’m staring down at my cammo sneakers and jeans and bearing in mind that I’m about to get on a scooter, joined by 4 girl friends and journey 2200kms starting in Cape Town, ending in Durban six days later. We are all excited and adrenalin is running high among us. The manager of Garden Court and his staff come out to wish us well and we have a police escort to guide us through Cape Town’s bustling rush hour traffic to where our journey will begin at Greenpoint stadium.

The girls are thrilled; we are grinning at each other and hooting madly while cars and people cheer us on. My first thoughts: “What a lovely little bike!” I was riding a Jonway Nippi, true to form, my little pink machine was twisting and powering around bends very comfortably, keyed up to show me what else she could do.

After filming and an interview at Greenpoint the team left for our first challenge – tobogganing down a hill at Cool Runnings in Cape Town. The path to the challenge was a 3km stretch of dirt road – rocks, loose sand and small pot holes. The scooters handled the terrain beautifully and I felt a surge of confidence about how I could expect us to fare later on.

We reached Cape Augulhas just after 6pm on the first day. Almost 300km and we were all still smiling. We joined some folk from the backpackers round a fire and spoke about our experiences during the day.

Day 2
Aughulus to Mossel Bay -290kms

Cape Agulhas is the southernmost point in the continent of Africa, 170 kilometres southeast of Cape Town. The cape was named by Portuguese navigators, who called it Cabo das Agulhas — Portuguese for “Cape of Needles” — after noticing that around the year 1500 the direction of magnetic north coincided with true north in the region. The cape marks the official dividing point between the Indian and Atlantic oceans. We reached the site on our bikes, riding them right onto the sand pebble beach where the warm Benguela current meets the cold Agulhas.

After putting our bikes through their paces as scramblers we cruised comfortably between 90 and 100km to Hermanus, twisting around corners smoothly, cruising past yellow fields speckled with grazing cows, sheep, and occasional stray ostrich.
We arrive in Mossel Bay at twilight. The town is very hilly and pretty and the bay peeps out occasionally when we reach the top of a rise in the road, lights shimmering off the still, dark waters and the sound of dockside vessel bells clanging sleepily.
We reach Protea Hotel Mossel Bay and are greeted with champagne glasses of orange juice and the warmest of welcomes. Our rooms are gorgeous loft apartments overlooking the bay, and we have enormous bath tubs – no surprise then that every one of us took at least an hour to pamper ourselves in a fragrant bath – you can separate a girl and untamed indulgence for only so long!

Day 3
Mossel Bay to Cape St Francis -314kms

We are visiting the Knysna Elephant sanctuary this morning about 61kms from Mossel Bay, and in the middle of the Garden Route. When we get to the enterance we have another dirt road to traverse, Mignon, Roxanne and I stand up like we do on our dirt bikes and have some fun ‘off-roading’. Roxanne actually manages to get her scooter airborne over a mound in the road.

Knysna elephant park’s resident African elephants and well-informed guides taught us the sad and mystical story of the Knysna Elephants – the world’s Southern most elephants. We had a rare opportunity to get close, riding them and feeding them. Four elephants were presented to us, with their guides, one of them named ‘Lost’. ‘Who would like to get Lost?” they joked. Linlee and I stepped up, and were rewarded with an opportunity to see the world from elephant eye-level. Our elephant reached back with her trunk and caressed my hand, it was a profound and moving experience.

We now have to face the biggest challenge of the trip – 1997 caused great excitement in the Bungy jumping fraternity worldwide with the opening of the Face Adrenalin Bloukrans Bungy Jump. Bloukrans is officially recognized by Guinness World Records as being the World’s highest commercial bungy jump at an astonishing 216 from the highest single span arch bridge in the world.
Roxanne, Lebo and Mignon signed up for the jump immediately, keyed up to plunge into the mouth of madness, while Linlee and I settled for the flying fox, a 200m cable slide zip wire out onto the archway of the bridge to watch them take the plunge.

We have a lot of distance to cover – its 7 pm by the time we get off the bikes! We gratefully arrive at our lodgings Lyngenfjord Guest House in Cape St Francis. The house is filled with antique cape dutch furniture from the 1800’s, family pictures and a lot of warmth for weary travellers.

Day 4
Cape St Francis to East London – 411kms

With over 400km to cover we set out on our Jonway scooters with throttles wide open at 9am. Leaving Cape St Francis, we eventually realized that we were in the Eastern Cape and that things work differently on the roads – much, much differently. We passed through Grahamstown and got horribly lost.I know what you’re thinking – how on earth does one get lost in a small town?! To that I would answer: with a GPS. We arrived in East London at 7pm and found relief in our accommodation and food at the Garden Court hotel East London. Finally, the longest stretch is over, and the bikes are still motoring along comfortably.

Day 5
East London to Port St Johns 320kms

It’s a beautiful morning with an interesting inland ride up ahead. Breakfast is pleasantly served at Garden Court hotel and now it’s time to hit some tar.

East London is known as the ‘Buffalo City’ – long before written history the banks of the Buffalo River and the seashore were inhabited by early man; Nahoon footprints found in this area have been dated at been 200,000 years old, and the oldest fossilized human footprints found in the world. In more recent history the area was home to the Khoisan Bushman tribes.

East London is also the abode the original Coelacanth specimen – a prehistoric fish that has lived in the Indian Ocean for 400 million years, thought to be extinct until it was re-discovered in 1938. The discovery of a live Coelacanth in the East London harbour was regarded internationally as the most significant zoological find of the century.

Both Nelson Mandela and the fellow former president of South Africa, Thabo Mbeki, have their roots in the Eastern Cape, and its occurred to me as we are travelling what an incredible country we live in – every town we pass through has its own history and the land we are riding in between keeps changing – from the untamed coastline and jagged mountains of the cape, to the emerald Tsitsikamma Forest, lagoons of Knysna and rolling gold hills of the eastern cape. We are truly blessed.

We arrive at Port St Johns at nightfall and check into a local backpacker’s resort. Mignon is amused to find cows strolling on the beach, and after sitting around a gorgeous bonfire we fall asleep to the sound of guests drumming and singing.

Day 6
Port St Johns to Durban -360kms

Our last stretch to our destination, and I’m sure everyone is thinking the same thought- We’ve done it! The home stretch lies right ahead and the bikes have come through for us. We are all attached to our bikes and I believe we are all silently contemplating buying a scooter soon!

For the most part, the scooters have been so much fun. Cheaper to run than cars, speedy and effortless to ride. Apart from cost efficiency there is an environmental element to observe, women especially feel a need to ‘tread lightly on the earth’.

As this journey ends I’m certainly feeling a sense of accomplishment and I couldn’t be prouder of the girls – they have covered enough distance to qualify our run as one of the longest ride-for-charity challenges in South Africa ever.

The bikes pass under the gigantic arches of the Moses Mabida Stadium and the crew are jubilant. The bikes are parked in the afternoon sun and we are interviewed for SABC television.

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