The nocturnality of motorcycles - 19

1200S: service time, part 13

"hmm, that doesn't feel right" I thought as I found the front brake lever would collapse towards the throttle and be almost unresponsive or spongy at best.

Usually this is a good indication that the calipers are all gunked up with road grime and brake pad dust, but the brake then responded as expected during a short ride, so I thought nothing of it again.

I ignored it again the next time, but had to pay attention when the lever suddenly felt stiff to operate and the calipers wouldn't fully release as I was riding (!). I knew this would lead to overheating and possibly lock the front wheel suddenly, so I pulled over on a narrow lane, with angry commuters filing by on one side and a ditch on the other, obviously at night and in the dark; the perfect roadside situation. After a minute or so, I tested to see if the front wheel was free and rode back home on the rear brake alone, which did nothing but make me confidently think to myself "see? you could totally get away with an 883 chopper with no front brake".

But to the matter at hand, time to get some tools out:

• 10mm twelve point wrench and socket
• ¼″ twelve point socket
• a couple of torque wrenches
• a Phillips-head screwdriver: at least on my master cylinder cover, the screws aren't pozidriv (sic)

We'll also need some new brake pads, a diaphragm for the master cylinder and the vacuum pump. A little emery cloth, a clean shop syringe, latex gloves, clean rags and a catch tray are always handy and should not be overlooked.

Once out of their packaging, you will notice that the pads are not symmetrical: the manual clearly explains which goes where, so pay attention to that.

A separate mention for critical chemicals: DOT5 brake fluid and some high-pressure brake cleaner.

It's easier to loosen the pad pins first, then remove the caliper. I owe the bike a mea culpa as it had been a while since I had serviced the brakes and the master cylinder in particular was quite dirty. Down at the calipers, I didn't find anything concerning; the retaining pins just needed a quick touch up with some emery cloth, the inside of the calipers and the pistons were a bit dirty but cleaned up perfectly well with the brake cleaner. In the next two photos you can see the pistons partly out, after an initial clean, and then pushed all the way back in with the help of a piece of soft lumber for leverage, easy. Notice also the anti rattle springs at the very back of the caliper, these are actually very strong and locate the pads firmly in place. They are so strong, in fact, that when removing or refitting the retaining pins, it is essential to push the brake pads against the springs: this lines up the pins with the holes in the pads and makes things a lot easier.

The pads were definitely very worn, technically still within spec but only just so. You'd be a fool to keep riding on them like this. More interestingly, they were worn unevenly (this happens when a piston gets a little stuck and the rest of the set compensates: you don't notice it as you ride and the brakes work well enough, but the pads end up a little bit uneven), so it's definitely a good idea to replace these.

Torque everything as per the manual and double check everything: no mistakes allowed here. Get a high quality socket for a perfect fit:

There is something interesting up here by the reservoir. You will notice that the sight glass for the brake fluid level is located in the center of the cap instead of on the side of the master cylinder itself. At first this may seem counterintuitive and hard to read (how are you going to tell what the level is if you're looking down on it instead of from the side?) but it's actually very simple: the sight glass will appear dark, almost black if the level is correct, but it will turn clear if the level drops below its tip, alerting you that you need to top up.

Always a good idea to go gentle with new pads for the first hundred miles or so, but we're all done.

Hold on, why is the choke cable dangling off of the side instead of being on its bracket?! Man, I don't have time for this... next time.

The nocturnality of motorcycles - 18

The second Umbrian motocamping quest.

By sheer luck I managed to find myself with a free weekend in early September, when the weather was still very hot around here, but the crowds had started to dwindle. 

Uninspired by the usual one-night outings that are available in the vicinity, it was instead Sandro who came up with a gorgeous itinerary this time, so all I had to do was enjoy the ride and see how the bike was behaving. 

Fresh from a basic but thorough servicing, and perhaps more importantly from an extremely deep cleaning to get the desert out of every nook and cranny, the GS was ready to go. I left the panniers in the garage and only took a few light items with me in a backpack to make things as easy as possible.

The GS' last outing was towards the end of June for a quick visit in Narni, so it sat for about two and a half months without being ridden after that. It fired up with the predictability of a contemporary daily rider, something that is designed to go unnoticed, but that should never be taken for granted. I maintain that back in the late 60s with the introduction of the /5 series, an effective and reliable electric starter must have felt like science-fiction technology.

the GS in Narni

"oh so smooth!" I jokingly say out loud after just leaving the little dirt lane that leads to the main road. But it's true, the flat twin is smooth and makes getting underway very easy.

After the initial warmup to reach Vicovaro, where I was to meet with Sandro, I start to notice how nimble the GS is on its refreshed suspension, also helped by having no luggage to deal with. While the front fork is definitely happier after a careful oil change, the steering head itself could probably do with a checkup and possible adjustment. Something to do this winter, together with a valve clearance adjustment I think.

We take off towards Riofreddo and Orvinio, along one of those silent country lanes that seem to be there waiting for you, our motorcycles two of likely very few vehicles crossing it. Our next heading was Rieti (more or less) so we could find the SS4bis and attack the climb up the Terminillo mountain, somewhere I hadn't been in a very, very long time. Truly impressive once the highest peak comes into view as you're accelerating up the narrow mountain lane, with its barren flank to the right and a drop over a bright panoramic view to the left.

The descent towards the town of Leonessa makes you actually feel when you dip below the tree line again, and everything changes to a calmer, quieter ride. A road closure had us scout around for a bypass we just couldn't seem to find. Like an episode of the twilight zone, we kept returning to the same spot even though we couldn't tell how we could possibly have looped around. We eventually found a ramp to an overpass, hidden behind overgrown bushes and shrubs. 

Once on it, it was a quick blast westwards until we crossed into Umbria and approached Terni. Up there on that wide dual carriageway, I was annoyed by how this bike can feel underwhelming and almost seem to struggle past a certain top speed. The handling as expected of a pure street bike leaves a lot to be desired... something's off. Until you remember that this is not where this bike can really do its thing. It needs long distances and a good mix of on and off the road, then it makes sense. Otherwise if you confine it to the tarmac and expect a high level of street performance, you will be disappointed.

I was pondering all this, with slight disappointment, as I reached an indicated, optimistic 130kph and the bike began to noticeably struggle to go faster. It felt like the engine could rev higher if I pushed it, but the aerodynamic drag was tangible and enormous (and I didn't even have the panniers!). I had to remind myself that this isn't an R100RS, and though the engine is a strong unit, it's unfair to expect an actual 150kph cruising speed out of this big goofball of a bike.

It doesn't owe me superbike performance, rather I owe it some proper offroad trails; days and days of the stuff, with panniers, the yellow Touratech or MotoFizz bag on the rear seat and a full camping set complete with cooking gear. That's where this bike shines.

With that reverie out of the way, I see Sandro peel right onto the off ramp and immediately join another country lane where all traffic vanished, until we reached the minuscule little hamlet of Macerino. Incredible that these places exist at all, and it always makes you wonder what life must have been like when they were built... or even now for that matter.

Another location we wanted to see is the church of Sant' Erasmo, perched above the small town of Cesi. We didn't quite make it but the place is a bit of a hidden gem nonetheless. There is an interesting-looking dirt road that starts from the hilltop observatory and that seems to traverse the sizeable hilly area above, something I would like to explore with better tires fitted.

The rest of the itinerary is a bit of a blur I must admit, as I just enjoyed the ride and only saw the signs for the towns of Cesi and Amelia as we coasted by, then Castel dell'Aquila and Melezzole.

We stopped to refill somewhere along the way and based on the speedometer reading, I calculated fuel consumption was around 17km/l, which is just about acceptable. I specifically mention the speedometer because it's obvious that the instrument and the gearing that controls it is a little bit optimistic (remember what I said earlier?): an indicated 60kph is closer to 50 in reality.

Once at our destination, we dropped off our backpacks and rode to the neighboring town to stock up for the evening's barbecue. We made the classic mistake of shopping for food when hungry, which led to a dinner that could have fed an extra person. Still, all delicious and the local red was just right.

Our return the following day, after a quiet night' sleep among the hills and greenery, was basically the long stretch of the Flaminia down to Narni, Orticoli and beyond until the capital comes into view, monstrous and crowded. Each mile gets harder and hotter, traffic intensifies and riding seems almost a slog. We part ways on the G.R.A. and I head back home, making mental notes of the next maintenance items for the ever-capable BMW R100GS.

Old Irons 2026 - a report.

"oh crap, where the hell are we gonna park?" I thought as we reached the clearing in the woods, never this full since the rally moved to its new location a couple of years ago.

Earlier that morning, Lele and I set off from Campo di Giove aboard our Commandos, having completed a near-perfect tour of the Majella park the day before.

Opting for the most direct route, not feeling like we had it in us to explore a detour towards Penne and Farindola, we made our way back down towards the SS17 and up to Popoli, Bussi and Ofena. 

It's somewhat of a boring stretch of quasi-highway, but surrounded by greenery and hills. It was too late in the summer for linden, so the prevailing smell came from the vineyards, ripening in the blazing sun. We did encounter spartium, especially higher up; then dry grass, hot limestone, and essential oils from santoreggia and possibly calamintha. This may seem odd, but these scents are an intrinsic part of these excursions that always make for a richer experience, Proustian memory and whatnot.

Our focus is inevitably drawn back inwards to successfully (one might even say expertly) navigate the tight upwards hairpin turns that take you to Castel del Monte. The place is overcrowded and it feels as though it is struggling to cope with the amount of visitors, cars, motorcycles, bicycles, horses, you name it. We don't stay a second longer than we have to before we calmly continue the climb towards the plateau.

It was when leaving from Castel del Monte however, that the Roadster decided to put Lele's resolve to the test the most, I would say, and refused to start. Let's not forget that the entire machine has been recently rebuilt and really does not have that many "settling in" miles on it yet. Its pilot is certainly wasting no time as this is already the second longish-range outing he has done with it, and I'm confident that by this time next year this particular Commando will be an enviably well sorted specimen.

But for now, we must address two things that I'm sure will make this much easier to live with: luggage arrangement and, most importantly, the center stand. At the moment, the Roadster only has its side stand, and while that's great at doing what it's designed for (i.e. supporting the motorcycle) it's rubbish for kickstarting the machine: the side stand is one of the longest ever encountered on a lot of motorcycles we know, so it behaves as a spring when you're trying to temporarily overcome gravity to climb on top of the kickstart and bear your weight down. The result is that instead of delivering your power into the kickstart mechanism, a lot of it is physically absorbed by the side stand, with the added problems that the motorcycle becomes unstable and the frame and bracket are at risk of serious damage. We have to get the center stand sorted and back on the bike, it will be so much easier.

As for luggage, it's a much simpler matter of adjusting the width of the saddlebags and making sure they can stay put when kickstarting.

We reach Campo Imperatore the only possible way there is, then make a final climb to the 1,600 meter pass on the SP8, here 42.395185409042476, 13.786768861597848.

Throughout the morning we came across small packs of choppers and cool custom rides, folks who must have been on day trips from the rally itself before returning in the evening for drinks, food and live entertainment.

The same was true when we began the descent towards to Rigopiano, a few long-fork choppers were coming up and waved. The road next to the rally was already lined up on both sides with vans and some of the heavier bikes who perhaps didn't want to risk the short climb on gravel (and actually the way out can be more of a problem).

I really was not expecting to see that many bikes, there must have easily been about 200/250 mostly Harley-Davidsons, though a couple of Guzzis, (new) Indians, some Hondas and even a pair of beautifully restored Laverdas (a SF750 and a Jota 1000 triple) stood out. Imagine my surprise at finding other Norton Commandos for a total of five in a sea of Harleys:

The rowdy bikers with a heart of gold welcomed us with a cold beer and the rest of the day slowly trickled by, unhurried and enough to see all the bikes, discuss our favorites, take mental notes of some cool or unusual details, plan our next custom parts and adventures, talk absolute nonsense with friends... you know, the usual.

After another chilly and uncomfortable night, we packed up and set off on our uneventful but slow return home the following day. The rapidly rising heat made the long hours in the saddle seem even longer, and we were both exhausted by the time we turned the ignition off and shut the fuel taps.

Our Nortons are wonderful machines. We didn't have a single mechanical issue to deal with, and all they need is a little bit of servicing before our next ride. My thanks to Lele for not only coming along, but for being an integral part of this experience; grazie amico.