Air-cooled Bike in a Water-cooled World
The cooler weather has arrived, but the sun is shining as Vancouver sees the last cloudless days for a while. This weather is the prime season for my motorcycle as I no longer have to worry so much about over-heating my air-cooled engine. In the heat of summer, a traffic jam caused by the endless road work or skytrain construction that we are blessed with, can cause immediate concern for the temperature of the two middle cylinders. With four heat producing cylinders, the temperature of the engine rises quickly and I am wise to kill the engine and push the big machine as much as I can through inching traffic. The armor that I wear starts to stick to my skin and my patience starts to erode.
Post-Labour Day September, the cooler air and reduced traffic on the highways made the idea of a weekend trip to Seattle with my daughter seem like a wonderful diversion. I still don’t have the video camera or hard luggage, but we were only going for a weekend. This was the longest trip I had ever taken with a passenger, but my daughter knows how to become part of the bike. I felt confident that it would be safer than her last trip in August on the bus shuttle service from Vancouver to Seattle. The bus was tied up in a four hour border wait and then was hit by a semi-trailer truck in Seattle. I had a premonition of danger when I dropped her off at the bus, but I had thought it was related to the helmet I was lending her. She told me that she was going to be a passenger with a young man who had recently started riding. I was worried about this idea, but at least she had an approved helmet. After the bus incident, I have to say that I am going when my time comes and I guess my daughter is too. I was worried about the motorcycle as statistically, most accidents happen to new riders, but sometimes I have to let go and say, despite my considerable investment, “It is your life”.
I don’t push my luck though, and I was careful to purchase additional medical insurance for us both before we left. Given my daughter’s proclivity for dangerous episodes, I bought it for a year. I departed from work earlier than usual, but I wanted to wait until the worst of rush hour was over before facing the suburban traffic snarls. We were packed and mobile by 6:30pm taking the South Granville bridge and driving though Richmond to avoid the Oak St line-up. Even though it would take the same amount of time, it is time with air over the cylinders. It was windy on the Highway 99 stretch between Richmond and the border, with nothing but open farm fields and suburban developments to block the wind off the ocean. I was glad to have the extra weight on the back as we passed a few semi-trucks. With the Yamaha FJ 1200, there is always plenty of power, but I am so light I often get blown around by the wind. There were some darker clouds ahead and was a bit concerned about rain in the small mountainous region near Bellingham. We were being buffeted by strong cross-winds and the smell of rain was in the air.
As I crouched to try to keep my windblown hair from whipping my passenger, we passed a cushy Honda Goldwing with full fairing and a big passenger seat with backrest built into the luggage. The rider had a sense of humour as he gestured to my daughter that his back seat would be far more comfortable for her than mine. At 100km per hour (legal speed) it was pretty amusing. He turned off at White Rock and I climbed the big hill towards the border. Read more…









