55th Class Reunion on a Two-Wheeled SUV:
A Two-Wheeled What?
Laying On the Utility
Thinking Small for a Big Trip
Day 1: Tucson to Las Cruces
Day 2: The Road to Santa Rosa
Day 3: Kittycorner to Kansas
Days 4 and 5: Wet Wichita, Sunny St. Joseph
Day 6: This Way to Humboldt
Enjoying Humboldt (Iowa)
Gas Tank Blackjack
The Real Kansas in Technicolor
A Liberal Dose of Memories
Holbrook? How Did We Wind Up In Holbrook?
Painted, Petrified, and Perfect
The Home Home Stretch
I have a little Shadow which goes all about with me,
And what could beat the use of it is more than I can see.
(with apologies to Robert Lewis Stevenson)
All right, be technical. It's only our 11th reunion --- but we hold one every fifth year, so it's been 55 years since we left high school. Reason enough to show up on a motorcycle.
But what's this about a "two wheeled SUV"? You may be thinking that a motorcycle is a little shy of what you'd normally call an "SUV" --- like, missing two wheels, a ton or more of metal, and room for four kids with all the family life support. But that's because you're envisioning a "Sport Utility Vehicle".
This one, though, is a "Spartan Utility Vehicle". No frills! Economical as can be. Maximum simplicity. Self-discipline and endurance often required. What could be more Spartan? (But if it sounds a little like "sportin'", that, too, is all right, for this is an enjoyable way to get around.)
What we're talking about here is a small, bare-bones motorcycle used as my only motor vehicle. There've been a series of them --- a Honda CM450 (1982 - 1997, RIP), a Suzuki Savage LS650 (1997 - 2002), and now a Honda VLX Shadow 600, whose owners' manual admits that it's a 583. Each of these has done duty as a Spartan Utility Vehicle. Too small? I want it small and bare-bones because I want to plant my feet on the ground at traffic stops, push the bike to a safe place if the motor quits, and pick it up if (oh, the embarrassment!) I lay it down.
This way of life developed when I first moved to Tucson, fourteen years ago. I'd planned to buy a car after getting here (meanwhile the old one would only be an encumbrance while crossing the country in a U-Haul, so I gave it away). Other things preoccupied me for a while, and after a bit it dawned on me: "I'm doing just fine with the motorcycle alone. What do I need a car far? It doesn't rain in Tucson!" Much, anyhow.
The utility of the thing is that it gets me around town, carries the groceries, carries everything else within reason, and even takes me across the country when I choose. If my children were still in the nest, it could convey them to various events (but I have to choose between carrying a passenger and touring). The money that I save every year on gas and insurance will cover an occasional taxi ride or van rental, when I need to arrive dry and unrumpled, or maybe transport something elephantine.
Another talking point is that it does all these things without being targeted for censure. Nobody can call it a gas hog: the lifetime record of my Shadow is an average 58.9 miles per gallon. That's 51.7 mpg around town, pulled up by 70 mpg on the open highway. The highway travel is under load and at higher speeds, but avoiding stop-and-go traffic more than makes up for it. (There's also a seasonal effect: the bike does best in warm weather.)
All right, so it's still propelled by that old demon, fossil fuel. At least it's minimal, even by comparison with a small car.
Admittedly, misguided safety mavens look askance at my two-wheeled SUV, but there's one hazard they'll never pin on it: a rollover. Nor can anyone grouse that my humble little vehicle is bullying small cars, or that they can't see over the top of it when they're backing out of a parking space. (I only wish I could see over the top of their heaps.
