Let us pray.

 

"Will you marry me?"

Keep it rubber-side down.

I have new tires on the Sportster, finally.

the Dunlop D402 it had before were very, very old (especially the front one) and I really ought to have taken care of this a long time ago. The rear tire was manufactured sometime in May 2015, the front one in March 2008. They had become hard and glazed, the tread was all but gone... how foolish to have waited this long.

But no matter, now we have some fresh and sticky Avon RoadRider MkII front and rear, and though they are not branded Harley-Davidson, they perform far better (as they do on my Fastback) and look great especially on a 1200S.

The main difference with the Fastback set-up is that here they are mounted tubeless, something that may seem obvious to modern riders, but that still feels like science-fiction to me.

Getting both wheels on and off the bike is a breeze, it just takes a couple of jacks to hold it steady but is otherwise a simple procedure. I applied antiseize to the wheel axles and checked the belt tension with the built-in indexes in the swingarm. Everything is then torqued to spec and new split pins are installed where necessary.

Time to go put these to the test on... THE SLIPSHOD COAST TO COAST!

This year's first motocamping antics took place on the way to the enchanted coastal dunes of Sabaudia and then all the way across the country (the short way) to reach the Adriatic on the other side.

While technically this still counts as a coast-to-coast, it is probably not what you might expect. And yet the feeling of going from Tyrrhenian to Adriatic in such a short amount of time (you could do this in a few hours, really) makes it a pleasantly jarring experience.

As the crow feathered serpent flies, the country is about a hundred miles wide in this part, but the many mountains and valleys throughout that area mean that your journey will be far longer than that. Overall, we covered just over 700Kms for this trip.

Here we go then, from sea to shining sea:

Above: the coastal dunes at Sabaudia mark the western beginning of this trip. 

The weather was absolutely perfect on day 1, with cool temperatures, class-A visibility and low humidity. It all turned the following two days with a drop in temperature and light but constant rain. 

Still, on day one I was able to enjoy some impressive views and reach the campsite with plenty of daylight left:

Meanwhile, I got news from Lele that he was on his way, so I headed over to the nearby town to get some supplies for our dinner. Nothing fancy, just a couple of porkchops and sausages, bread, a beer.

Back at the campsite I sat enjoying the absolute stillness of the countryside, the mountains off in the distance, the many birds chirping and singing in the trees, the warmth of the setting sun on my face and the damn cool lines of my Sportster:

A short while later I started hearing the unmistakable low rumble of an Evolution Sportster, that full-bodied, purposeful tone that pulls the motorcycle along in a way no other can. Lele is still out of sight but I can almost see him rolling off the throttle, downshifting and pulling out of an uphill corner, riding on those four pointy pointy cams.

The noise gets louder and I spot a flash of "aqua blue" atop gleaming chrome, a squat stance (because of the lowered front end) and a rider all clad in black.

As Lele quickly sets up his tent, I get a fire going for dinner but also for us to stay warm - it's surprising how chilly it still is.

Those moments spent talking with friends around a campfire, under the stars and with our bikes nearby are what all like-minded riders around the world recognize and I do think this speaks to something from our very, very distant past that has since become ingrained in what makes us who we are.

It was a chilly night in the tents, not unpleasant but certainly cooler than what I would have expected for this time of year.

The weather certainly turned during the night and we awoke to thick cloud cover and not a sliver of blue sky anywhere.

After a couple of breakfasts we reached Roccascalegna for the customary photo; knowing which way to go (having been there once before) allowed me to take a closer look at this most unusual structure, and really notice how audacious it is. The front view is also completely different from the more striking side view you see below, and I think we will be back here in the future.

Right around then, Lele's ride gives us a bit of a thrill as he presses the starter button and... nothing happens. It eventually starts and gives no more trouble for the remainder of the trip, but it's likely that the starter motor will soon need an overhaul. Luckily on the Sportster this is a relatively straightforward task, and parts are available to refresh this critical component. More information available on the Sportsterpedia. 

The itinerary for the rest of the morning is a straight descent to the eastern coast, across several dilapidated and abandoned towns, which look even more depressing under the gloomy, overcast sky. Honestly, not a great stretch of road and nothing of particular noteworthiness in terms of landscape, with possibly just the exception for the town of Orsogna.

We reached the famous Costa dei Trabocchi fairly quickly and rode down the costal route for a while: it must surely be a pretty sight on a sunny day, and with time to spare I'm sure a walk along the piers would be something special.

There it is, the Adriatic; we have made it from coast to coast. A nice lunch break by the beach and then back on the Sportsters to head inland again towards the campsite, only it soon starts drizzling - just a few drops, it's ok - and then sure enough it builds to a nice steady rain.

No raingear this time, partly because I just wanted to pack light for once, partly because I need to replace some items in my kit that are all worn out and torn. By the time we make it back to camp, we're fairly wet and starting to get cold but luckily a wood-burning cooker is there to dry our clothes and warm us back up again.

The ride back was made more challenging by the appalling road conditions, to the point where we came across a sign reading "warning: rough road surface ahead" only to then find there was no road surface at all, just a dirt lane with water pooling in big craters and ruts trying to catch your front wheel and make the bike tip over. I think I've come to the conclusion that beautiful as it is, this region is mostly in bad shape and (unfortunately) not worth the effort anymore. There are of course still plenty of stunning roads and places, which will be the subject of a future post, but I think we've found all there is to see at this point.

Time to call it a day and get some rest; day 3 is mostly a long drone back on the autostrada, again in the rain at times, but we make it back home with no issue. I say "mostly" because we get to have a special treat before we reach the autostrada, and that is the southern tip of the Majella, less than a quarter of the full loop, from Palena to (almost) Passo San Leonardo. The weather is still cloudy, but there, on the Majella, it goes from gloomy to striking and almost magical: that place is truly a marvel on Earth, it is alive, it is special.

Everybody loves a shapely rear end...

The Evolution Sportster proves - once again - to be a formidable machine: reliable, solid, dependable, engaging, a little rough around the edges perhaps but a lot more refined and well put together in every aspect than its detractors would have you believe.

These two are practically the same motorcycle, yet with enough differences to make each its own version of a winning formula.

Is the Sportster a perfect motorcycle? I say it is. I say it certainly was when they were new and perhaps even more so now. Now that they are no longer in production they must surely stand as an unbeatable alternative to contemporary offerings. Now that the automotive world is heading towards complete madness with electronic complications everywhere, that do nothing to add value but do everything to enslave the owner to a brand, surely an Evolution Sportster is the perfect freedom machine it always asserted itself to be.

If you've been considering one for yourself then act fast and get yours now (prices are already pretty high and these will soon become the object of desire for many, many riders).

There is no question in my mind: if I were to put together some sort of "special" right now, I would choose a Sportster. And so should you.