"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.
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