There are particular moments in my life that never let go. My first steps on the Appalachian Trial with my college buddy Jeremy. Seeing the Grand Canyon while traveling across the country in my Nissan Cube. Swimming in the Pacific Ocean for the first time. These moments were all important to my growth as a person and traveler. When I landed at Aiken State Park on May 22, 2026, around 3:30pm, I felt the same powerful sensation that those previous moments held for me. Yet, this moment, felt greater than those before. For me, this motorcycle trip had become a year of understanding how to moto-camp, what gear to pack, how to pack it, how to load it on my Triumph Speed Twin 900, that I call Lucy, and ultimately, decide where to go for my first trip. Watching the “Long Way Home” series over the Winter, I knew I could do what the stars of show had done, pack and go! Once April rolled around, I knew I had to make it official. I would take my first ever motorcycle trip over Memorial Day Weekend and my location would be Aiken State Park. I notified work of my vacation plans, told my Mom I was going away, and then got to work.

I love lists. Preparing for my trip to Aiken State Park allowed me to take a deep dive into gear. What I needed and what I didn’t need. My first pack list suffered from what I call “packing too much” syndrome. Seriously, my first pack list would work for car camping, but I soon realized, I was packing my motorcycle. Space was limited, and weight was a factor. I had to make compromises. I decided to leave my books at home. Let go of my running gear and running shoes. I mean, was I going to run during my camping trip? And five sets of clothes for a two day camping trip felt a bit too much. Lucky for me Amazon made it easy when it came to actual camping supplies. I ordered a tent, camp chair, sleeping bag, sleeping pad, stove kit, tent pillow, stove kit, bar soap holder, and ROK Straps for packing things to my motorcycle. Once everything arrived, the trip felt very real. For practice I even setup my campsite in my Mom’s backyard just to get a feel of how everything worked. This gave me lots of confidence. I visited my local Half-Moon Outfitters retail store a few times to finish off my camping supplies like a handy camp spork, fuel for my stove kit, a food bag, and some instant meals that worked really well at my day trip to Givhans Ferry State Park. My last purchase was a 70 liter duffel bag to carry most of my campsite gear. Then it hit me, I needed a second saddlebag for Lucy. One saddle bag had worked for Givhans Ferry State Park, but Aiken was a weekend trip and I needed more space. So a trip to Charleston Triumph to purchase a second saddlebag made complete sense. A week before launch day, I stood in front of Lucy, who was fully packed, and I felt ready! Now, all that was left to do….was GO!

I left James Island, South Carolina, a little after 9am and headed to Folly Beach, South Carolina. Folly Beach is my destination whenever I leave for a day trip so leaving from Folly Beach before Aiken State Park made sense to me. There was comfort there. A ritual. What I didn’t realize was this was the Friday before Memorial Day weekend and traffic was busy with vehicles and beach goers. I was very happy to leave the local Circle K at Folly Beach without getting into an accident. Once on Folly Road I knew my route well. I had studied my South Carolina paper map for weeks and following route 61 up to Summerville would be my direction. After an amazing ride up 61 I pulled over at Summer’s Corner to stretch my legs, have a slip of cold water from my water jug, and understand that I was on my way. I estimated I would get to Aiken State Park before 4pm. And my inner voice didn’t fail me with reminding me that, “Rolf this will be the farthest you have ever traveled on a motorcycle before”. I smiled at the possibility of my longest ride yet, rolled the throttle, and left Summer’s Corner in great shape.

Arriving in Ridgeville, South Carolina, the first taste of rural areas was beginning to form. I stopped at a local gas station for a coffee and a sports drink. The heat was a bit strong and I knew the Summer riding season was just around the corner. There is something special about rural South Carolina. Maybe it’s the locals who stop to chat while pumping gas, or the fresh boil peanuts smell from inside the gas station, but I knew I was getting close to the country. Standing near the rail road tracks, I studied Google Maps on my iPhone to learn my position and my direction. From Ridgeville I would catch route 178 towards St. George, South Carolina, and top off my gas tank. As I had learned from traveling to Walterboro earlier in the year, Lucy, did great on gas when riding the open roads in the country. Yet, I wasn’t going to take my chances. Filling up my gas tank was a priority. At about 3.5 gallons, and seeing my gas meter on my digital dash start to drop, St. George would be a great spot to fill up next. Leaving Ridgeville, I felt myself begin to find my open road form. My setup on Lucy felt strong. Everything had a place and though I admit to being a little cramped on my modern retro classic motorcycle, the traveler in me was ready for the next hour of travel. But would my mind relax on the big road ahead? Route 178 was a taste of highway speed and something that always made me nervous. But traveling does open yourself up to new experiences. Time to roll the throttle and find out.

Arriving at Aiken State Park, a little after 3:30pm had taken me through some amazing roads. After filling up my gas tank in St. George, I arrived in Branchville, South Carolina for cold drinks and a chance to find some shade and check my route to Aiken State Park. Branchville was very welcoming. Time seemed to slow down. The heat was still present but after leaving the Lowcountry, I felt a cool breeze and the humidity seemed to settle a little bit. My next stop would be Orangeburg, South Carolina following route 21, and the last major city before joining route 4, and heading towards Kitchings Mill, South Carolina, which would connect me to State Park Road and Aiken State Park. Leaving Branchville, I was less than two hours from Aiken State Park. After dreaming of a moto-camping trip a year ago, I could feel my arrival to Aiken State Park was within an arm’s reach. My focus was strong and my direction honest. “I was really doing this”, I said to myself. The weather was clear, my gas tank fuel, and Lucy sounded great as we left Orangeburg by route 301 and connected to route 4. Once traveling on route 4, the entire scope of my travel started to change. The road became less crowded. The farm lands seemed to be all around me and entering the Midlands of South Carolina I started to ride hills and turns much different from the Lowcountry roads I was use too. A few drops of rain fell on my riding goggles, and the coolest of day arrived with the first rain shower. Making my way through Neeces, and then Springfield, South Carolina, I was feeling the country vibe. Horse farms started to appear around me as I traveled to Aiken State Park. After leaving Charleston, I found my rhythm on route 4 which put me in touch with the traveler within me. Thoughts of breaking down did occur but were immediately replaced with the beauty around me. I felt my whole body exhale mile after mile. Turning into Aiken State Park, the quite camp ground was heavenly. Now I just had to find my campsite number 6, and make shelter for my stay.

I have a ritual while I first arrive at a campsite. Having started this ritual at Givhans Ferry State a few weeks earlier, brewing coffee at my campsite is a way I make myself at home. Once I arrived at campsite 6, I immediately parked Lucy, removed my left saddlebag, and got out my Starbucks instant coffee and stove kit. The sound of my fuel hissing to life, water boiling, and instant coffee falling into my coffee cup, I knew I was home. After a cheers to myself for my safe arrival at Aiken State Park, and completing a 140 mile ride, my pride was strong. I was ready to setup my camp gear. First thing though, I needed my camp chair set up so I could understand where to place my tent. A week before I left Charleston, I had studied the weather for Aiken. Rain and thunderstorms were predicted everyday. Seeing the dark clouds begin to form over me at campsite 6, I knew I wanted to get my shelter setup, and make dinner before settling in for the night. Around 6pm, my campsite was complete. I hung up my dry line to air out my riding clothes. The weekend at campsite would make this dry line more of a wet line, and a funny joke I would say to myself. The showers at the campground were hot and the water pressure perfect. After a shower, wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and flip flops was a lovely welcome after wearing my riding gear all day. I continued to sip my coffee, prep dinner, which was an instant meal, while snacking on some trail mix. My cell signal on my iPhone was weak but strong enough to let me play my Spotify app which was wonderful to hear at campsite 6. Watching the sunset from my camp chair I couldn’t help but smile at my accomplishment. I was in the woods, it was Memorial Day weekend, and Lucy and I had just started our weekend motor-camping adventure together.

It had been over ten years since I last slept outdoors. Rain and thunderstorms rolled through the night and I will be honest, I didn’t sleep much. But for the few hours I did, it was enough. I awoke early Saturday morning to bird calls that welcomed Saturday. The rain had pasted. The skies were clear and my heart was open to exploring Aiken State Park. After a full day riding Lucy, I knew hiking around the camp ground was important to me. Movement is a great balance after riding the day before. Exploring my campsite the day before I found the start of a trail close to my campsite. After a hot breakfast and hot coffee, I filled my water jug, laced up my hiking boots, and took to the trail. I was on the hurt for the artisan well that was flowing somewhere on the campground. I studied my paper map of Aiken State Park and got my location. Starting my hike, I soon realized it had been a very long time since I hiked in the woods. Memories of hiking the Appalachian Trial quickly returned to me as I hiked the Nature Trail of Aiken State Park. Though the route was cut off in some locations due to maintenance, I found my first 3 miles of my hike to be amazing. The Nature Trail had a great selection of plant life and the trail itself took me through some wonderful areas. At specific moments while hiking I felt completely alone. I loved this.

Leaving the trail and making my way on the road around Aiken State Park I finally found the Artisan Well. The sound of the well was the first thing I heard. Once I arrived, it was like I had found gold. I filled up my water jug, took a seat at a near by picnic table, and had my first taste of fresh spring water. I sipped the cold water. I was proud of myself. The hike was wonderful for my soul. Nature has a way to heal you. Give you peace. Make you whole. And ultimately help you let go of the stresses of your life. Returning to my campsite 6 for lunch, a mix of snacks and coffee, the weather was steady. A bit cloudy, cool, and inviting. About 3pm, I lanced up my hiking boots again and decided to explore more of the campground. This time I would leave the campground and find the large lake.

Sitting on a bench overlooking a lake at Aiken State Park, on my final hike of the day, let me know I was in a place that was special. Not only was this my first moto-camping adventure, but I was reconnecting to my roots. My Mother’s side of family camped at Aiken State Park when my mom was a young girl. I could feel that energy all around the park. Starring out onto the lake, my mind soon understood a few things. This trip was becoming very memorable. This was my first vacation in over 10 years. I had not had a vacation in so long that at first, I didn’t really know what to do. Yet, hiking my last 3 miles on Saturday allowed to me feel a sense of comfort. I had everything I needed. Then the spark hit. Looking out over the lake, I sensed that this would not be my last moto-camping adventure. Within me, my compass started to point North. To go further on my next trip. And to spend a week on the road. It is a fantastic feeling to know that my next trip was already forming while on my first trip. I sensed that this was my calling. To see more of South Carolina while riding Lucy. I planted my flag for Fall of this year for my next trip. More ambitious. More exciting. But for now, returning to campsite 6 was my destination. I thanked the lake for my future vision, hiked back down a dirt road, and returned to the Aiken State Park campground.

After another night of rain and thunderstorms, I was excited to see the rain stop and ride Lucy to my Grandmother’s old home. I used Google Maps to navigate to my Grandmother’s home which was about 30 minutes from Aiken State Park. The route there seemed normal. Yet, what I didn’t expect was some of the most twisty roads I have ever ridden. The route to my Grandmother’s home would put my motorcycle skills to the test. I even had to ride off road a bit, nothing serious, but enough for me to take it slow. Rain fell for a short bit adding to the drama of the moment, my return to my Grandmother’s home. My grandmother’s home was a place I lived at during my Summer vacations from grade school. A place I learned to drive a car at 12 when my Grandmother needed some cigarettes. A backyard where my grandmother and I played baseball. My Grandmother’s home is located in College Acres, a planned community built around housing employees for the Savannah River Plant. As I made my way to my Grandmother’s home I parked Lucy at the old water company building. I loved the fact that in hadn’t changed in over 30 years since I was there last. My grandmother’s voice kept repeating in my head, “got to pay my water bill”, and sure enough, with Lucy parked in front, the water company was still there, and the slot to deposit your check for your water bill was still there. I decided to walk to my grandmother’s home just to see it for the first time since I was a teenager. I was shocked to see that it was so small. I guess it is true. As a kid, things are just bigger. But honestly, my old grandmother’s home hadn’t changed much. The screened-in porch was there, and my grandmother’s spirit was too. I quickly took a pic for my memories and made my way back to Lucy. It was time to explore Downtown Aiken.

Polo Grounds Cafe is the type of place you dream of finding while traveling. Hot coffee and an amazing menu. Their specialty is crepes. And after my emotional morning revisiting my grandmother’s home, seeing the growth on Whiskey Road, I needed a bit of comfort food and coffee for the early afternoon. I sat outside, in a lovely little covered porch with a cute little table for two. I felt like I was back at my campsite 6. It was a cloudy day but comforting as I ate my tasty crepe. It was a welcome site to have a wonderful meal in front of me. I ate slowly to enjoy each bite. I sipped my coffee slowly. At this particular moment I definitely felt like I was on vacation. Once I finished, I decided to explore of Downtown Aiken on foot. It was just after 12pm when I left Polo Grounds Cafe and made my way to The Alley.

Though some of the businesses of Downtown Aiken where closed, the Alley didn’t disappoint. I walked and felt like I was visiting a place I knew. It was so welcoming. The restaurants that where open on the Sunday of my visit were alive. As I walked through The Alley, I found a Mellow Mushroom, a sort of reminder of home attached to Aiken. I just knew I had to check it out. Plus I wanted to eat more food! Grabbing a seat at the bar, I had a ice cold glass of water with lemon and soon remembered how amazing ice is in a drink after camping a few nights. I ordered a Smashburger. Mellow Mushroom is known for their pizza but today I wanted a burger. And the Mellow Mushroom didn’t disappoint. After lunch, I made my way back to Lucy. It was time for some camp stove coffee and bit of camp chair time. It was funny how simple things become amazing during a camping trip. It had been a full day. I felt reconnected to my roots, visited Downtown Aiken, and now I was ready to return home. I checked my iPhone, 9% power. I was about 30 minutes out from my campsite. I would need to run my iPhone on low batter mode and hope Google Maps would get me home. My Google Maps route took me in a new direction back to Aiken State Park. Surrounded again by horse farms, the small country roads didn’t disappoint. As I parked Lucy back at campsite 6, I saw my iPhone die. Perfect timing. It was time to relax, recharge, and get ready to leave in the morning.

My last night at campsite 6, I slept the best, and for the first time, it didn’t rain. I awoke to dry conditions. I decided not to rush my exit. Take each moment to relax and prepare myself for the journey home. I knew a big breakfast was needed so I did a 3 pack of instant oatmeal. Along with my last camp stove coffee of my trip, my mood was bright and I was eager to get back on the road. Though most of my camping gear was wet, packing everything up went smooth. I just relaxed and took my time. After breakfast I studied my South Carolina paper map, and decided to take route 78, traveling through the Heritage Corridor, and eventually connect with route 61. I decided to return to Charleston the way I left for Charleston, riding through scenic route 61 of the Lowcountry. Saying goodbye to campsite 6, packing my Aiken State Park rock in my duffel bag, I loaded everything up and fired up Lucy. A little after 8am, I left Aiken State Park, traveled down State Road, and turned left onto route 78. Immediately the country was all around me. This Monday morning route 78 was quite. I traveled to Denmark, South Carolina and stopped for gas and a quick break for cold drinks. I knew once on route 61 there wouldn’t be much, so filling up Lucy’s gas tank was important. Thinking of Aiken State Park as I traveled home, I soon realized my trip to Aiken would never be forgotten.

Leaving Denmark, South Carolina, with a full tank of gas, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was changing. Sure the trip had just been a weekend, but my riding confidence had changed. I no longer felt foreign on the road. The road was welcoming me. Lucy and I felt at peace on the bike. We were synced. Connecting with route 61, I knew I was in for a long ride but that didn’t bother me. I would soon return to the busy Charleston area so I would enjoy the country roads for a little longer. As the miles stretched further from Aiken State Park, I couldn’t help but feel the presence of my grandmother’s spirit with me. It was like she was guiding me home. As music played in my earbuds, I felt so alive. My first moto-camping trip was coming to an end but I knew the journey was just getting started. As I arrived home the familiar heat and humidity of the Lowcountry returned. I sat in a chair outside my Mom’s garage, Lucy cooling in the driveway, and I took a deep breath. I was home. I knew another trip would happen this year. I had just experienced a new way of traveling which had changed me forever. I felt different. I felt renewed. This first moto-camping experience opened my eyes to new possibilities. I was eager to travel again. Trust me, a motorcycle trip is worth it. See y’all on the road.

Rolf

For almost a year now, I have been tooling around in my head the idea of moto-camping. Researching down rabbit holes of gear and loading gear sort of created an unbalanced idea that moto-camping was a hard adventure to unwrap. Over the Winter I watched the Apple TV series “Long Way Home” and then it all clicked; you pack & GO! And essentially that is what it came down to. Pack a few items, find a designation, and go. But where would I start? How would I pack Lucy, my 2024 Triumph Speed Twin 900? And honestly, where would I go? For me the key ingredients to moto-camping is….camping. A passion of mine I had not revisited in over a decade. So I started my pack list there; camping. Tent, sleeping bag, sleeping pad and of course, the most important component to me for a lovely camping experience, a delightful camping chair. Building my pack list around camping helped me discover items I had and what I would need to have. And then reality slowly came into center stage, everything must pack on Lucy…how do I do this?

Once I was able to fine tune my pack list, I knew I had to visualize my stuff. See it, be it, understand it. My impression of my first pack out was I forgot that Lucy was a motorcycle. There is only so much she had take on for a load. And my gym bag and single left side pannier where just too shy to admit that “Rolf, you need to breakdown your pack list more”. I slowly cut items, understand that I was camping, and for me the experience was not escaping, but integrating myself back into the woods. So took to a minimalist approach and soon realized that a lighter load, is a smarter load, and ultimately would prove to be a core value I would take on my first moto-camping adventure.

Ok, my pack out was ready. I made some upgrades like a 70 liter duffel bag to fit all my camping gear, ROK straps to hold the duffel bag in place on the pillion seat of Lucy, and used my single left-sided pannier for camp arrival duties. I honestly felt pretty good while looking at my load on Lucy in my mom’s garage. I felt confident that Lucy was ready. But was I? And I still had no idea where to go? Then on a rainy James Island Saturday, I knew it was time to pack & go. I decided I would use Sunday as my first experience in moto-camping. I gave myself a radius of 50 miles to understand my first moto-camping adventure. This would allow travel time to be just an hour, maybe find a park area to setup, fire up my camp stove, and have a cup of instant coffee in my camp chair. That sounded like victory to me! Also, traveling with Lucy fully loaded, I could feel what it was like to travel with my gear. I decided to use Copilot and ask about areas to moto-camp within a 50 mile radius from my home on James Island. The first hit Copilot wrote back to me was….Givhans Ferry State Park. Located in Ridgeville, South Carolina, Givhans Ferry State Park offered everything I needed. Campsites to setup everything I had and test it out, places to explore, and just an hour away. I could camp for a few hours on Sunday and be home just in time for dinner. I checked the weather for Sunday, beautiful, and knew it was time to go.

Arrival! Landing at the entrance way to Givhans Ferry State Park felt like I crossed a threshold moment. I traveled over 60 miles from Folly Beach, load secured the entire journey, and knew that what I thought about a year ago, had come true, I was a moto-camper now! Givhans Ferry State Park is so charming. It was just far enough from James Island to feel like I was in a new land, but close to home, and I did have to work the next day. I circled the campground to get a lay out of everything, saw the campsites and the car camper in me from a decade ago was giving me a high-five. So, I decided to check-in and reserve a campsite for a day. The staff at Givhans was very welcoming. In a few minutes I had campsite 7 reserved and made my way to my campsite for the day. To make the unloading as efficient as possible, I decided during my pack out that my left side pannier would be my arrival gear; stove, coffee, snacks, and my water bottle. I had to celebrate this moment at campsite 7 with my first official camp stove coffee. And I did! Sipping fresh instant Starbucks coffee while sitting in my camp chair was heavenly. After a few more sips, I knew it was time to setup camp. I mean traveling was fun, why not complete the experience and setup all my new camp gear at a campsite? Luckily, I had setup my campsite before I left home a few weekends earlier in my mom’s backyard. That experienced helped me so much. 30 minutes later I was lying down on my sleeping pad, with my camp fan spinning cool air on me, head resting on my camp pillow, and staring up at the small opening in my tent, the beautiful Givhans Ferry State Park trees above me. Then I thought, “yes Rolf, you are now moto-camping”.

Finishing lunch, a instant meal from Half-Moon Outfitters, which was delicious, I checked my watch, and thought it was time to go. But no hurry. I brewed another cup of instant coffee, sat in my camp chair and felt amazing. Honestly the experience tapped into my car camping experience a decade ago when I traveled from South Carolina to Los Angeles, California. It was like that version of me was reborn. And understanding now that moto-camping is not so much about the designation, but the journey, is so true. From dreaming about this experience a year ago, watching “Long Way Home”, building my pack list, getting my gear, packing everything, and loading Lucy, the victory was already felt the moment I left my mom’s driveway. Campsite 7 at Givhans Ferry State Park was a breakthrough moment for me. As of this writing, I have a campsite reserved at Aiken State Park over Memorial Day weekend which will allow to do do a few overnights, and really dig into the moto-camping experience. If you are curious about moto-camping like I was, and you have a motorbike, pack & go! You will not be disappointed. And don’t forget…

….pack a great camp chair!

Rolf

It’s hard to believe that I have owned Lucy, a 2024 Triumph Speed Twin 900, for almost a year now. I have clocked over 4,000 miles, completed many commutes to and from work, a few weekend rides, and spent time with Lucy in the my garage, customizing her, and doing maintenance. A bond with a motorcycle is such a unique experience. I can’t speak for all riders, but for me, my motorcycle is an extension of my personality, my riding style, and ultimately speaks to me on a spiritual level. I commuted to my office, on a cool Monday morning. I knew the route I was going to take. I have been commuting for over a year and yet, this Monday, it felt very new to me. This was because, I was the unveiling Lucy 2.0. I was very excited. Seeing Lucy in the driveway, in the early dawn light, that was hitting her just right, I knew this day was special. The World was about to see the number 278 fly by on the road. Having the side cases painted yellow, and the vinyl black number “278” attached, I was hopeful I could be as strong a rider as my hero Steve McQueen. Working with Lowell Hull, owner of Creative Colors Coatings, we spent about month figuring out the design, and once I delivered the side cases to Lowell, he finished the job quickly. The result was amazing!

My Customizing History: The Moto Morini

I guess the artist in me is always alive. Though I retired my art career two years ago, I still find inspiration to create in unique spaces. My first bike, a 2023 Moto Morini SCR 650, was my first step into the world of customizing a motorcycle. Once I started riding the Morini, I felt an inner pull to add my touch to my Morini. After each ride, sitting in a chair while looking at my parked Morini in my driveway, I thought, how could I make this mine? Meaning, where was my artist touch on my bike? Over the next few months of ownership, I started taking parts off, painting some, re-installing them, and then adding a radiator guard. Once completed, the Morini looked nothing like the showroom bike I purchase. I absolutely loved it! The last few months I owned the Morini were epic. The Morini was lighter, brighter in color, and fast, or so I thought LOL. Though the Morini is not with me anymore, learning to make my motorcycle my own, is a spirit I take with me from that experience. Maybe add a few hours of YouTube videos to encourage me to explore more of this art medium. In the end, I feel that customizing your motorcycle is just as important as riding your motorcycle.

Steve McQueen, the number 278, and 1964 ISDT

I have been a fan of Steve McQueen for a few years now. I only discovered Steve McQueen after researching for a quote to add to a painting I was working on when I lived in Los Angeles, California, over ten years ago. The Steve McQueen quote, which was the last thing I added to my painting, hit me so strongly that I began researching more about Steve McQueen during my time in Los Angeles. To be honest, I didn’t watch any of his legendary movies, but instead, studied the man, and how he lived his life. What really pulled me in, was his love of racing. Once I moved out of LA, my fascination with Steve McQueen diminished. Yet, once I purchased Lucy, I soon started looking at old photos of McQueen racing Triumphs in all types of conditions. I knew I had to incorporate McQueen on my bike. But where? I also knew that my paint techniques didn’t really feel up for this job. I knew I needed to hire a professional. A few months of riding Lucy, a few times washing her, installing parts and continuing my customization arc, I soon learned that the side cases on my Triumph would be a wonderful spot for a tribute to McQueen. Googling images of Steve McQueen, I kept seeing this number, 278, appear in many images. What I learned is that this was the racing number Steve McQueen mounted to his Triumph for the International Six Day Trial (ISDT) hosted in East Germany in 1964. A race he never finished but an important milestone in his racing career. I knew then, that the number 278, would be what I would add to the side cases. To show my love of McQueen’s racing heritage in the ISDT, I would paint the side cases yellow, and have the number 278 in black. But who would I turn to, to hire for this project? Lucky for me, I met Lowell Hull through his job at Charleston Triumph. Lowell and I got to know each other from his work with getting me parts and making service appointments for both of my bikes. On a trip to Charleston Triumph, I learned that he runs a business making creative color coatings for cars and motorcycles. I immediate contacted Lowell and after a month of communicating, my side cases were completed.

A Week Later….

Having spent a week with Lucy 2.0, I must admit I am as proud of Lowell’s work as the day I pickup the side cases from his shop. The vibe of Lucy is so unique. Lucy 2.0 carries a new appearance and one I am very proud of. Each time I see Lucy, I feel that the number 278 is striking. The side cases are a firm nod to McQueen’s legacy, and while I don’t expect everyone to know this, it does open up possible conversations. And that is the mark of great art. When it can provoke ideas and bring people together. I have some more ideas Lowell to create for me, but for now, the side cases are mint! See y’all on the road.

Rolf

The day I parked Urik, my Giant Contend road bike, in my Mom’s garage after purchasing Urik from a local bike shop, I asked myself, “When do I ride my bike to work?”. This question lingered for a few months, until I got serious about commuting with Urik over my holiday vacation. For two months I had been riding Urik to Folly Beach, did a few rides around James Island, and started to feel more comfortable riding with traffic. I developed a strong trust with Urik, knew how he behaved in certain road conditions, and most importantly, I felt strong enough physically, and emotionally, to ride to work. I decided to adapt my motorcycle route as my bicycle route. It was a ride that follow a long road through some amazing areas, with traffic light in the AM, and manageable in the PM. I even noticed a bike lane that stretched a majority of the route while I rode my motorcycle. But how would I start this commute with Urik?

I ask this because, I live with my mom on James Island and to reach my route, I would need to cross the James Island Connector while riding Urik. NOPE! I have seen people ride bicycles over the Connector, but it is not legal, and is very dangerous to ride especially before dawn. So, I developed an alternative to beginning my commute. I needed a launching point for my commute with Urik. Having lived in Charleston for over 20 years, I knew that parking garages would be a great base camp for the day. But which one? There where plenty to choose from. Then, I remembered my favorite parking garage in downtown Charleston, the Queen Street Parking Garage. Located near Board Street, a main access street to getting in and out of downtown Charleston. Plus, it wasn’t located in a very busy part of downtown. I had found my launching point.

On a mild, clear, and dark Wednesday morning in January, about 5am, I loaded Urik into the back of my Nissan Murano. I also packed my commuter backpack filled with my things for work, as well as my work clothes. Then I had packed a gym bag with my post ride change of clothes as well as my cycling gear. I was ready! Or was I? Nerves began to build as I drove over the Connector and made my way to the Queen Street Parking Garage. I got my garage ticket, and drove up to the empty level 9, the roof top deck. I parked my Murano and took a deep breath. It was time. I kept the Murano running, played some music and unload Urik and placed him against a wall. I dressed, turned off my Murano, locked her up, put on my commuter backpack, turned on the lights for Urik, and said a little prayer. Moments like these, before I attempt something new, dangerous, and exciting I speak to God to protect me and watch over me. Finishing my prayer, I let a a yell and said, “I AM ROLF, KING OF THE ROAD!”. LOL, I needed to boost my confidence. This was a great unknown route for me by bicycle, and letting out a yell is important to me. I highly recommend it yelling to get yourself motivated.

It might not have been the safest start, but descending the Queen Street Parking Garage with Urik settled my nerves, got me focused, and most importantly, got me ready. “Here we go!”, I said to myself, leaving downtown and riding past the large port of Charleston in the dark morning, I felt strong. I felt confident. My vibe was positive and as I pedaled past the Ravenel Bridge, I slowly started to feel at home on Urik. The past two months of riding Urik had lead me to this moment. Yet, looking down at the black road, I noticed, no bike lane. A quick rear check behind relaxed me as I saw no cars. “Keep pedaling Rolf!” I said to myself. Soon I was past downtown and a lovely bike lane appeared as I rode towards North Charleston. My mindset for this commute was not to treat this ride like a race. Instead, I wanted to pedal smoothly and allow my front headlight to guided me. The road soon changed to potholes and railroad tracks. I did my best to avoid the potholes but railroad tracks were new to me. I took my time, rolled over the tracks, and continued on my way. Once I reached Park Circle, about 2 miles from my office, I knew I would make it. And I did!

Arriving at my office, I felt electric. I just finished my first AM commute on Urik. “ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE,” I thought to myself. Parking Urik inside my office, right across from my cubicle, I felt like a proud dad. It was still early, and not too many coworkers had arrived yet. I took a moment, said my thanks to the Lord, and opened my commuter backpack for my work clothes. Throughout the day, I entertained my fellow coworkers who kept asking “did you ride your bike to work?” My achievement did not go unnoticed. As the workday continued, I began to notice how tried I was getting. “Well, should be an interesting ride home,” I said to myself. By the end of the workday, I was dressed in my cycling gear, the tired feeling from earlier had vanished, and I mounted Urik a few feet from my office front door. It was time to get back to the Queen Street Parking Garage.

Riding back to the Queen Street Parking Garage, I kept the same thought process, slow and steady. I followed my morning commute route, and welcomed the sunlight. “So much easier to see!” I said to myself. I navigated my way back downtown and quickly noticed the traffic building. I would need to mimic the bike messengers of New York City I had watched on YouTube. Just kidding! I did pick up the pace and limit my gear changes. Once the bike path ended and I knew I was back in downtown Charleston, I kept my speed fast and hugged the car land as best as possible. Soon though, the downtown traffic filtered out and I decided to pedal as fast as I could to Queen Street Garage. Once I arrived, I pedaled up the 9 levels, reached the top and yelled out, “ROLF, THE KING OF ROAD!” Parking Urik next to the wall like I did in the morning, I felt amazing. I had just completed my first ever bicycle commute with Urik. Anything is possible!

Rolf

I often make riding notes on my iPhone after I ride my 2024 Triumph Speed Twin 900, I call Lucy. I write about my experience and note things that occurred during my ride both mentally and physically. I also note how my training went and generally discuss things that I need to work on and, of course, my achievements. Usually my achievements are small but important victories. Like turning OFF my turn signals when completing a turn. Or, giving myself enough space cushion between me and the vehicle in front of me. Sometimes its completing a weaving exercise during training that results in not missing a single parking spot while weaving a long row of parking spaces. These are small but important achievements that build confidence for me before I start riding on the busy roads of Charleston. Yet, this past Saturday, while out on a ride towards the beautiful country roads in Ravenel, South Carolina, I hit the wall. Not physically speaking, thank goodness, but mentally. The past week leading up to my Saturday morning ride, was during Christmas week. A busy time for everyone. Aside from family stuff, I completed over 400 minutes of exercise which included, cycling, running, and, strength and conditioning workouts. Beginning in December, I started to build my fitness schedule for a triathlon I plan to participate in this coming Summer. So when I started riding Lucy on a beautiful Saturday morning in late December, the weather close to Spring like, I had pushed myself physically hard over the past few weeks. As I left my Mom’s house that morning, I felt good. I was thinking that this Saturday morning ride would be a nice reward for the hard work I had completed that past few weeks.

Riding down Highway 17, towards Ravenel, I began to feel the weight of my fitness journey. I started to feel a cold sweat running down my forehead. Panic began to rise. My old friend, fear, returned, that I had dealt with on so many rides this past year. This fear soon began to make me feel very uncomfortable. I started to loose focus. Though I had complete control of Lucy, was riding within the speed limit, my inner soul spoke to me and suggested I pull over to get a cup of coffee. Spotting a Circle K gas station a few lights ahead, I moved to the right lane, pushed the turn signal for right, and entered the parking lot with relief. I parked as far from the Circle K as possible and took a deep breath. “Let’s get that cup of coffee,” I said to myself. Removing my helmet, gloves, and mask, I entered the Circle K, and found the coffee station. Returning back to Lucy, I enjoyed a hot black cup of coffee, watched the cars and trucks fly by on Highway 17, and smiled. I was relaxed. I felt my confidence reborn and I knew it was time to head home.

“Live to ride another day,” I wrote in my riding notes. Sure, I was disappointed that I didn’t ride those wonderful country roads and let Lucy roar across the beautiful two lanes without many stoplights. Yet, I had to be honest with myself. Mentally, I had hit the wall. The weeks of training for the triathlon had caught up with me. I didn’t feel safe on the bike. Taking a coffee break at Circle K, grounding myself, working on my breathing exercises, had allowed me to realize I was not in the right headspace for a demanding motorcycle ride. And instead of pushing myself more, risking more, I knew that turning around, and riding home, would allow me to live to ride another day. Because at the end of the day, the roads aren’t going anywhere and I would rather enjoy the experience, instead of fighting the experience. I guess as the older I get, it’s more important to put myself in a position to succeed when I feel at my best. Sure, I immediately felt regret at not riding in Ravenel, but later the same day, I was very proud of myself for knowing my limits and saving the experience for another time.

As I close out 2025, and begin 2026, I seek more opportunities to see how my mental health and riding Lucy work out. It’s funny, I can be in the best shape of my life, have a beautiful day to ride Lucy, but if mentally I am not 100%, I know it’s best to return home or not ride at all. Maybe this acknowledgement comes from experience but ultimately, I want to have a long and successful motorcycle career. Returning home after a coffee break at Circle K is a step that will allow me to ride many more days ahead. Too many times in the past, I would “push through” which can create more risk. And riding a motorcycle is risky enough. For now, I will always listen to my inner voice and live to ride another day. Happy new year everyone! May 2026 bring you many wonderful experiences.

Rolf

For the past month, on Sunday mornings, I have made bicycle rides to Folly Beach, South Carolina, from my mother’s home on James Island. Maybe it’s the quiet early mornings that Sunday brings that makes me jump up from bed, dress in my bicycle gear, check the tire pressure on Urik as well as the chain, and start to pedal to the beach, that is so amazing. Each Sunday I have ridden to Folly, I have pushed myself further each time. Yesterday, on a foggy Sunday morning, I decided I would ride 20 miles on my new road bike. The Sunday before I had reached 19 miles round trip, so I knew I could do it. Before Sunday, I mapped out a route that would take me from one end of Ashley Avenue on Folly, to the other, and then back home. What I hadn’t expected was the dense early Sunday morning fog that would cover me completely on my ride to the beach. At one moment, my sunglasses were so foggy that I could barely see where I was going. I decided to pedal slowly at this point and just enjoy the experience.

There is something so magical but riding Urik to Folly Beach. Just this past week I rode to Folly after work, and while the rush hour traffic heading home was a bit dicey, I had an amazing experience. Yesterday was just as memorable, and being the first day of Winter, really made my heart sing. Riding towards Folly, the fog was so dense, that it wrapped me up like a blanket. All around me was fog. The bike path I was riding on, only allowed a few feet of viewing distance, and the passing cars on my left were a blur. Lucky for me, I knew the bike path well, and felt comfortable the entire time. By the time I reached Folly Beach, I let out a yell of relief and turned right onto Ashley Avenue. Ashley Avenue was clear. Maybe being a block away from the beach reduced the fog but in the surrounding marsh, as I made my way to the end of Ashley, visibility was still poor. But I was happy. It was a truly amazing experience.

Crossing Center Street, and heading to the opposite end of Ashley Avenue, my helmet had so much moisture on it from the fog, water started to fall onto my sunglasses. But I kept pumping hard, passing The Washout, a legendary Folly Beach surf spot, and rode all the way to the gate to the Morris Island Lighthouse. I just knew I had to pass the gate and see the beach. Riding on the graffiti road to the Morris Island Lighthouse, I had a flashback to the time I lived in Los Angeles and saw the LA River for the first time. Somehow that memory came back to me as I followed the graffiti road to the sand dune. I stopped, took a sip of water from my water bottle, and said, next time I will follow the sandy beach trial over the sand dune to the Morris Island Lighthouse. I had a bigger goal….20 miles. Leaving Ashley Avenue, I stopped at Circle K, the only gas station on Folly Beach, and got myself a hot cup of coffee, a Gatorade, and a bottle water. My legs were starting to talk and I knew the next ten miles would be a test.

Sipping my coffee outside Circle K, sunlight broke out and the fog disappeared. Crossing the last bridge out of Folly, I looked over at the water and it was perfect. So glassy. I could only imagine how amazing the waves would be at the Wash Out. Descending the bridge I geared down and pumped my legs hard. Yet, with each pump of the pedal, my legs spoke back angrier. I knew my body was hitting the wall. It was important to keep Urik steady on the road as more traffic flew by me on Folly Road. I turned onto Battery Island Drive, let out a yell of relief and kept pumping my legs. Yet each push of pedal, my legs got tighter and tighter. Making my way onto Sessionville Road, I decided to push as hard as I could and while the effort was there, my speed was not. I decided to gear up and cruise home. No need hurt myself. Reaching my Mom’s driveway I was very happy. I parked Urik, made sure he was steady, and opened my riding app to check the mileage, 23 MILES! I opened the garage door and yelled out, “I DID IT”. My mom opened the kitchen door to the garage and said “I thought you were dead”. Funny, I hadn’t noticed my time traveled until I looked at the stove clock. Almost two hours!

It was a remarkable ride. From the early morning fog, riding all of Ashley Avenue, stopping for hot cup of coffee at Circle K, riding Urik this day will be a memory I will not forget. And to think, I only just bought Urik a month ago. So many great miles ahead.

Rolf

After work yesterday, I was a bit of mess. It was cold outside but the sun was out. I just knew, I had to move. Yet rush hour had arrived on James Island, my home, and going for a relaxing motorcycle ride just wouldn’t happen. Instead, I laced up my running shoes, dress for the cold, selected dub techno music on Spotify, placed my earbuds in my ears, wore my reflective vest, and walked outside. The light play of dub techno fit my mood completely. It was only Monday evening, and the work week was well underway. I wanted to release the tension in my mind, body, and soul. I just knew, if I could start moving in the 40 degree weather, with the afternoon sunlight in my eyes, I would feel so much better.

I honestly have just started running in the PM this December. For the past four months, running for me was just an early morning activity. But after my first PM run, I soon realized how lovely running in the PM allowed me to reset my mind. I could let go of all my worries from the workday, all my worries of my financial mess I am currently in, and just go for a run. The simplest activity you can do is run. For me, a post run unlocks one of the best feeling you can have. PM runs are tough. Not only are you tired from the workday, the commute home, but your energy level is pretty low. That is why I am so thankful that since August I have started my fitness journey. Losing weight, building my endurance, allows me to tap into a reserve at the end of day to find enough mojo to fit a quick PM workout in. December is shaping up to be an important month in my fitness journey. Since the start of December, I have added cycling, and swimming to my routine. More on my swimming experience in a later post. As I left the neighborhood, and made my way onto Camp Rd, I felt the comfort of movement, the pacing of my breath, and that sweet spot where its just you and road, and rush hour traffic of course LOL.

It’s runs like these, after a long day, when the world seems to be working against you, that this type of run I call a “Therapeutic Run”. As someone who has been in therapy for a few years, what I can say is that running, in it’s purest form, is therapeutic for me. I can’t speak for other runners, but when I find a comfortable pace, I often open up a dialogue with myself and work through my troubles one step at a time. I developed this habit of speaking to myself during a run, when I first started running longer miles and had to keep myself for running too fast. Maybe you have heard of “Zone 2” running? The theory behind Zone 2 running is you are able to run, have a conversation with yourself, and keep your pace slow so, in theory, you can run longer, with less impact on your joints, and achieve greater success, while running slow. Please note I am NOT an expert on Zone 2 but I have seen the results of slow running and it is really amazing. I ran 12 miles the day before Thanksgiving following the Zone 2 practice. But therapeutic runs is what delivers me the best kind of feeling. A release of the stress from a hard day, and immediately brings a smile to my face.

Sitting down at my bedroom desk chair. Comfortable. Fresh from my therapeutic PM run, I couldn’t help but feel my success, deeply. Sure, it was only a 4 mile loop, but with the weather, the start of a work week, my inner stress, and knowing my bi-polar illness was playing it’s part, I smiled. I felt at ease, my world was ok, I took a sip of hot coffee, and knew my therapeutic run had saved this day.

Rolf

I often ride my 2024 Triumph Speed Twin 900, aka Lucy, to my local beach, Folly Beach, for a cup of coffee, gas if I need it, and a chance to decompress from life. Folly Beach, also know as, “The Edge of America”, is a wonderful little beach community that offers so much. From a vibrant bar scene, to wonderful foods and coffee, each corner of Folly reveals a hidden playground. The Folly Pier itself, recently renovated, is a great spot to cast a fishing line, walk the pier, and watch the local surfers catch waves. My trips to Folly Beach by motorcycle, are often my starting point for a longer ride. The Circle K, the only gas station on Folly, is my hub for setting the mood for my motorcycle tours of the Lowcountry. Yet, my last trip to Folly, I witness something wonderful that has pushed me into a new world of fitness. It was not the first time I had seen cyclists on Folly. On any Sunday morning, groups of cyclists appear and then quickly disappear from my view. I always enjoyed watching the flash of cyclists move by but about a month ago, I started to think, “maybe I should get me a road bike and join them”. In full disclosure, I had not ridden a bicycle in over 20 years. Why in the world would I want a road bike? As I saw a cyclist ride by on this particular Sunday morning, dressed in a full kit, gears echoing with changing, the cyclist lifting his body up to pump his legs harder, I knew right then….I must get a road bike.

My history with cycling is varied. I really began my cycling journey in college at Virginia Commonwealth University, with getting around campus made sense on a bicycle. This evolved into mountain bike adventures on the weekends in rural Virginia with my roommate. Living in Richmond at the time, offered a wild bicycle community, and trips to the James River allowed me to feel the rush of descending down hills that built my love of mountain biking. When I moved back to Charleston, and started living downtown, I bought a beach cruiser bike, reggae colors of course, and rode bar to bar every weekend. Living close to Hampton Park, allowed me to come home from work, hop on my bike, and escape for a few hours. Traveling by two wheels in Downtown Charleston is a great experience. When I moved to Los Angeles, I used the bicycle service provided my the City of LA, where you would rent e-bikes to cruise around Downtown LA. I would often get carried away, having so much fun, that I would find myself on Skid Row, on a bicycle, maybe not the smartest thing, but very memorable to say the least. Moving back to Charleston, right during Covid, I didn’t have much to do. Still in a bit of a culture shock after 4 years in LA, I would ride my Mom’s Giant bike and love every minute of it. Time passed on, I stopped riding my Mom’s bike, switching between jobs, and finally landing on my feet in 2021, I became my corporate career with my current employer. The Summer of 2024, I started my motorcycle career, and this blog was born. But owning a bicycle had not really crossed my mind.

Then this year, I decided to improve my lifestyle. I began a diet and by the summer started my fitness journey. Then about a month ago, I saw a cyclist, on a road bicycle, and knew my next step in my fitness journey had arrived. But reaching that moment, to want a road bike, was because I am thinking about competing in a local triathlon this coming summer. And part of a triathlon, is riding a bike. But not just any bike, but a road bike.

My first idea of buying a road bike was searching websites of local bike shops. Immediately, the price of a new road bike made me realize, this was NOT the way to go. Spending over a thousand dollars on a bicycle, that I didn’t know if I would like, was not the move I wanted to make. I then turned my attention on Craigslist and found some great deals, or so I thought. During my Thanksgiving holiday, I reached out to a few listings but came up short. No one replied back to me. I really didn’t want to wait because I knew my timing was just right. I was off from work for a few days, had a window, had the desire to ride, and just needed the bike. So where should I go? I returned to my Mom’s Giant bicycle and saw the bike shop sticker on the frame, “Mike’s Bikes”. “Let’s go there,” I thought. On Black Friday, I pulled into Mike’s Bikes hoping that maybe, just maybe, they had a used road bike for sale. The first thing I noticed about Mike’s Bikes is that the vibe is just my style. Part showroom, part shop, and helpful staff. “We have a few used road bikes for sale,” the Mike’s Bikes employee told me as I stood looking at a new model way out of my budget. Walking to the showroom, I immediately set my eyes on a large gray frame road bike. The employee let me know that it’s previous life was as a rental bike but all the components had been upgraded as well as the tires. I noticed the water bottle holder, beautiful gray color, white seat, funky grip tape color, and thought, “that is the one!”

My test ride at Mike’s Bikes was hilarious. For one, I had to figure out how to mount this road bike. Then, I had to understand how to change gears. Lucky for me, the pedals where traditional, and not clip-ins. Yet, a few minutes later, I was rolling about the parking lot, and it was like I had rediscovered and old friend. I did manage to switch the gears, use the drop down handlebars, and feel the rush, if only for a second, of the potential of what it is like riding a fast road bike. I walked back into Mike’s Bikes, bought the Giant Contend road bike, a few other items like a helmet, gloves, and lights, and drove my new road bike home. I was very excited. But what would I call this new bike of mine? It must be named because a strong relationship is built upon a shared connection. Then, the name came to me….“Urik”. A German name meaning “enduring leader”. This was perfect for my new road bike.

This past Sunday, I ate breakfast with mom, mounted Urik in all my new gear, and started pedaling. This being the second ride I had a great route planned and the possibility of riding to Folly Beach for the first time. I reached Folly Road, took a deep breath, and started heading to Folly. What occurred over the next hour was triumph and tragedy. Reaching Folly Pier while riding Urik was an amazing experience. I sat on a bench, looked out at the Atlantic Ocean, and felt a wave of emotions. It was as if all the years of riding bikes, those important experiences, came flooding back. I looked over at Urik, and knew I had made the right decision. And I knew my dream of competing in a triathlon had just begun. Yet, as quickly as the ride crested to a new height, Urik reminded me, that bicycling is a sport that can quickly fall apart. Heading home, I noticed Urik wouldn’t change gears. Then arriving back in my neighborhood, the right pedal had become loose and was about to fall off. I called this experience, “baptism by the road”. Allowing my emotions to settle, and eating some left over pizza, I headed back to Mike’s Bikes and immediately the staff did an amazing job. I left Urik overnight and the next day got the call that he was “good-to-go”. The front derailleur fixed, and a new crank installed. I rode Urik a few minutes in the neighborhood last night and honestly, Urik felt faster. Or I am just getting better?

What was really fun was the the next morning, I rode Lucy into work and found that my 2 days of cycling had improved my motorcycling. In a way, my form on Lucy was stronger, I cornered more confidently and I was more at peace on Lucy. It was as if I took my aggressive riding experience with Urik, which then allowed to me have a peaceful experience while motorcycling. More on this idea later. For now, Urik is fixed, resting in the garage next to Lucy, and I have rekindled my love of cycling again. My triathlon dreams are fully alive.

Rolf

Motorcycling is a romance of speed, line, technique, and refinement. And like a romance, there are ups and downs. Much of my blog, the Art of Motorcycling, stews in a romance of riding, yet, there was something important I needed to address. I love riding my 2024 Triumph Speed Twin 900, but, at the back of mind, I often think….what if I breakdown? What would I do? How would I get home? As a new rider, I overlooked solving a breakdown on my motorcycle, by focusing my energy on learning, practicing, and surviving my commute days and weekend rides. As far as putting in an effort to acknowledge that my motorcycle can and will, at some point, break down, I just looked at my triple A card and thought, “this will take care of that”. Lately though, I have been putting together plans for a motorcycle trip to Western North Carolina next year. Since August, I have invested in a luggage system, which includes a left side saddlebag, and mount. I visited my local Triumph dealership and spoken to an employee there who has made multiple motorcycle trips to Western North Carolina to learn about setting up a base camp and riding the amazing roads in this area. Research also included watching a few YouTube videos on motorcycle trips, but I knew one thing was missing; an emergency roadside kit. But where would I start? Sure, breaking down in a car sucks too. Yet, most of vehicles I have owned come with equipment to at least get you home or to a location for additional assistance. Heck, I have driven cross-country twice, and always packed an emergency roadside kit. But on a motorcycle, what do you take for a blown tire? What if your gear shift pedal gets bent and you can’t get out of second gear? What do you do? Questions like these and more got me thinking about addressing my need for a motorcycle emergency roadside kit for my Triumph.

The legendary fork bag has had a long and storied tradition in motorcycling. Though you don’t see many fork bags on the road in my area, I knew adding a fork bag to Lucy, my Triumph motorcycle would be the first step in having a resource to save my bacon. From my internet research, the fork bag made complete sense. Just enough space to carry essentials for solving multiple types of issues in the event of an unfortunate occurrence while riding. Attaching the fork bag would continue to keep a lovely retro vibe that my saddlebag does for Lucy. Appearance wise, it didn’t seem that it would create trouble while riding. Now finding a particular fork bag that meet my needs and looked that part, would be fun to find. The most important was not adding a big block of plastic to Lucy. The magic of Lucy is the iconic style this motorbike showcases and slapping on a big bulky piece of plastic was not going to work for me. Searching through various images of fork bags, I kept coming back to a fork bag made by Longride, out of Brussels, Belgium. The fork bag from Longride got my attention because of the overall appeal. A retro style made of robust materials like leather and cotton to really give their fork bag a proper look. Seeing the internet pictures of their fork bag on motorbikes like mine, I knew I had to pull the trigger. I placed my order on a Tuesday and by Friday, Leo, my fork bag arrived at my doorstep. “So what the heck do I put into Leo?”, I thought. Space was limited. I knew what to do. It was time to hit up ChatGPT for support and build my first motorcycle emergency roadside kit.

For me, I can honestly say, I have broken down on the side of road a few times. It is never a fun experience. Yet, I learned a lot. Through surviving the unexpected, I knew a few items would need to be included. But packing a spare tire on my motorcycle was definitely out of the question. To build my first motorcycle emergency roadside kit, I had to address the tires first. Lucky for me, the first item on ChatGPT’s roadside kit list, was a tire plug system. Fortunately, I had experience with a tire plug system when I repaired a hole in my rear tire on my first bike, the Moto Morini. I ended up riding three thousand miles on my first plug, probably not a great idea, but hey, tires ain’t cheap y’all! Finding my tire plug kit, I packed the tools, sealant, and tire ropes in a plastic baggie. Though ChatGPT didn’t recommend my next item on my list, I knew my 30 year-old Leatherman was next. Maybe not the most sexy tool in my tool box, but I wouldn’t be honest if I haven’t had my Leatherman by my side in all types of adventures. Add that to my kit. The third item I selected, and recommended by ChatGPT, was power related. My iPhone is wonderful, until it dies from loss of power. So packing my power brick with a 10 foot lightning cable was a no brainer. In theory, this would allow me to run my lightning cable from my power brick to my iPhone mounted to my handlebars. Thus, I could ride for hours with full bars, without worrying about Google Maps draining my battery life. Finishing off my kit, and with the help of ChatGPT, I added zip ties, electrical tape, rubber bands, nylon cords, a zip lock bag for emergency cash, a pair of scissors, and a microfiber rag. Not included in Leo, but will packed in my saddlebag, is my portable tire inflator, and a headlight I can wear. Expect the unexpected.

Sitting in my room writing this blog post, I feel confident as I prep for my Sunday ride, with Leo attached to my fork, and confidence knowing I am prepared as best I can be. Having no experience using Leo yet, I trust the process. Knowing I have tools to save my bacon makes me happy. Preparation is an essential part of life. Maybe tomorrow I will realize I need to add another component to my kit, or remove one, I don’t know yet. But today, I feel I have made an effort to believe I can make the journey north to Western North Carolina, or at least get to work if I have a flat tire. Addressing this need has been long overdue. But the pieces fell into place this week and seeing Leo attached to Lucy in my mom’s garage, makes me smile with confidence. It is amazing how an idea forms into reality. And as a new rider, evolving into the best motorcyclist I can be, is a must.

Rolf

Since I started my motorcycle career, I have had a fear of riding my motorcycle in the rain. Even when I drive my SUV during a rain storm, I find myself gripping the steering wheel tightly and my heart rate goes up. So when I started riding my 2024 Triumph Speed Twin 900 named Lucy, I made a point to avoid the rain as much as possible. Wet roads and poor visibility made me swear to never ever, ever, ride in the rain. This has changed over the past year since starting the Art of Motorcycling.

The first time I did ride in the rain, it was unexpected. A beautiful Summer Sunday morning gave way to a huge downpour and I was caught in the middle of it. What I remember most about raining in the rain was how scared I felt. Like at any moment my tires would slip and I would hit the asphalt…hard. I fondly remember being soaked and having a passing car’s puddle splash over me completely. It was such a huge splash that I was temporary blinded for a few seconds. Not the best way to start a relationship with riding in the rain.

Checking the weather yesterday morning, I noticed that rain was expected but not a monsoon. I was eager to ride, and I thought “how bad could it be?” I suited up early Monday morning. Prepped myself and Lucy for our AM commute ride to the office, and fired up the Bonneville engine on Lucy. As I sat on Lucy, pulling in the clutch and pushing the gear lever into first gear, rain started to come down. It was light but not heavy. “I can manage this,” I thought to myself. Riding to the local Circle K for gas I quickly realized this light rain was becoming a bit heavier and I had not reach top speed for commuting yet. Gassing up, I knew I would need to trust my training, my instincts, my experience, and above all, keep a positive attitude. Reading the book “Total Control” by Lee Parks, over the Summer, Mr. Parks says that riding in the rain is a GREAT opportunity to learn how your bike handles wet roads, and most importantly how your decision making must be in tune with the rain. For instance, allowing plenty of space in front of you for braking. Reducing lean angle on turns. Downshifting when coming to stops to reduce the need to hammer the brakes. And most importantly, riding at a safe speed. So, as I left the Circle K, rain falling harder, I smiled to myself and said, “I CAN HANDLE THIS”.

By the time I reached the office, I was soaked, and Lucy looked like she had been off-roading. Yet, a huge smile graced my face and I pulled a strong fist pump in the air that made me believe…I LOVE RIDING IN THE RAIN. I don’t plan to ride in every rain storm that passes Charleston, but weather changes so quickly. Putting in the effort to ride in the rain will only increase my confidence when dealing with Mother Nature.

One of the best aspects of this experience, was finding my inner strength in adversity. Because it can quickly become overwhelming, very quickly, on a motorcycle. But as I am learning, taking control of the situation, focusing on what is happening in front of you, and above all, believing in yourself, fear and panic will not take over. Some of my best moments of this commute was laughing out loud when rain splashed onto my riding goggles, creating a strange double vision for a few seconds. I learned so much about myself and Lucy while riding in the rain this day. Like how painted lines on the asphalt are super slippery or how puddles hide what could be a dangerous fall. It was the type of ride that I will remember for a long time and a turning point in my motorcycle career.

Rolf