Dom was on the front and I was on the back of a bright blue BMW K1200 motorcycle, one of the bike's Engeland Moto has for sale. We were waiting in a line of floats in the cold, spurting rainy weather, which did feel quite Chrismasey, for the Waxhaw Christmas parade to start. 

We were in a gang of six other motorcycles from our church. The Glenstone Chapel banner was walked in front of us, we rode behind it, and kids and parents from our church meandered after us handing out candy and fun fliers.

The cold, dreary weather gave a low turn-out for the parade, but as we drove by the audience I noticed how faces lit up in the chilliness like warm, cozy fires as they saw the motorcycles prowling along.

A young boy jumped up and down, pulling his father's freezing hand and said, "Look at the motorcycles!" A little girl with pig- tails gasped, "I like the blue one the best!" A man with a scruffy, gray beard just started clapping and giving us a thumbs up as we crawled past.

The parade-goers got a treat even more special than the candy thrown at them. They got to stand and watch riders going at a pace gentle enough for the crowd to actually be able to savor the motorcycles. They could taste a bit of the thrill and freedom of riding in the open air and almost touch the power of what it means to ride a motorcycle.

Even though we delighted the spectators, the motorcycles were not happy and were throwing a fit with the turtle's pace they were forced to go at. They were like unruly colts that just want to break into a gallop but were forced by the reins of the rider to go at a walk. The bikes were roaring in agony and pain, and by the time we got to the end of the parade route some of them were overheating.

We were glad to give Waxhawians a taste of bike-riding and help support our church, but on the way home, zipping on the back country roads, our bikes were saying thank you for letting us go free again. Because as we learned, motorcycles just aren't made for parades.

"What? No way! How cool!" exclamations ran through my head. I had seen these motorbikes swarming like bees around pedestrians, whizzing in and out of stopped traffic and squeezing in between huge buses, and now I would get to ride on one! I was thrilled because the experience seemed like such an adrenaline rush.

But maybe something not to write home about till after I safely survived the escapade.

Once I got to Asoke station, I climbed down the well-loved and dirtied, long staircase and found on the side of the road in front of the steps, a gruff, sun-soaked, Thai man sitting on a Honda motorbike. He was wearing an orange vest with large, white Thai script on the back like a number on a football jersey. I assumed that this man, who looked like a Thai pirate, might be a the taxi man.

I shouted over the roar of traffic into his ear, "Asoke Tower". He nodded in understanding and I got on and straddled the black, cushioned seat behind him.

Problem, what do I hold onto? I remembered how when I rode on the back of my dad's BMW motorcycle I would hold onto him to keep me balanced, so why not do the same to taxi man? So I cautiously touched his back as the bike sped off.

Motor bike riding in Bangkok was nothing like riding on the back of dad's bike while he gently coasted down North Carolina country roads.

I felt like I was in the heart-pumping chase scene of an action movie. We rode up on the broken sidewalk to pass the line of cars waiting at the red light, then bang, down again and in-between the sedans, bright taxis, and rickety buses. While we were going as fast as if the police were right behind us, my fingertips gripped the orange vest as un-awkwardly as I could.

After what seemed 55 minutes, which really was about 11, he turned left into Asoke Tower and jerked to a stop. I shakily got off and reached into my pocket to pay him and noticed he was smiling like a clown at me. I gave him the 20 baht and smiled back, wondering why he seemed so tickled.

Later that day, I told a new friend about my exhilarating first motor bike adventure, and then the reason for the goofy smile clicked.

She told me that you aren't supposed to hold on to the taxi man, but instead the silver handle behind the seat. Oops! So I guess he was having a laugh at the foreign girl who holds onto the vest of motor bike men.

Although I felt like a cultural fool, at least I got to give the Thai pirate motor bike man something to smile about for the day and learned, for the first time, that motorcycle riding definitely isn't a lesuirely, carefree way to travel in Bangkok.

Andy just informed me today that I rode a salvaged bike.  I have been helping him edit videos and update engelandmoto's website.  We have been talking about their business of buying salvaged motorcycles at auctions, and fixing the parts that are not working.  They use a system to check the motorcycle once it is done, to ensure the safety of the vehicle.  Then, they sell motorcycles and also motorcycle parts.  Andy's bike, as you can read on an earlier blog, was a salvaged bike that engelandmoto fixed.  I did not know that I was riding a salvaged bike, but I felt completely safe.  I would never have known that it was a salvaged bike without someone telling me.  Andy didn't think he would ever own a bmw bike, but because he bought it as a salvaged bike to be fixed by engelandmoto, he was able to afford a bmw bike. 

I have already rode the bmw motorcycle a couple of times, and hopefully I can a few more times before I leave North Carolina.  What a thrill for me to say that I rode a motorcycle.  I need to actually take a picture so people believe me since I do not normally do those things.  I will probably never skydive, but I can say I rode a bmw motorcycle.  I guess I'm more adventurous now.  I wonder what new thing I can try next......

The contrast to my old Kawasaki is dramatic.  The Kawasaki was a 4 cylinder, carburetter, chain driven cruiser.  The BMW is a 2 cylinder, fuel injected, shaft - driven, road-gobbling, naked roadster.  It is fast, grips the road like a crotch - rocket, but it is made to cruise all day, every day for months and years on end.

My wife and I have enjoyed getting to know this new addition to the family.  So has my 2 1/2 year old son, who loves sitting up on the tank and cruising the neighborhood with me at 10 mph. 

Sometimes when the air is warm and clear and the sun is settling towards the west, we can be found cruising along quiet back roads, the smooth air flowing past our shoulders and the summer evening filled with the sweet lazy smell of honeysuckle.  Then a bee splatters across my face mask, bringing us back to reality. Life is good...
 

Prior to starting my business I used to ride to work every day of the year. Living in Charlotte NC I can do that unless we get that rare ice storm and then I have to use a sled to get to work. But I would come into work in the freezing cold temperatures and my co workers would say, “ You are crazy, how can you ride in this weather?!!” I would respond,” Everyday is a good day to ride!”

But team Engeland Moto recently encountered one or two exceptions to my favorite quip, “Everyday is a good day to ride.”

Engeland Moto was planning to shut down for a few days and travel as a team to the Barber Motor Sports Complex for the events sponsored by the AMA during the weekend of May 3^rd. We were going to travel to the Alabama headquarters of Engeland Moto (my brothers house) in Athens Alabama and spend the night and then travel to Birmingham the next day to enjoy the museum.

We had five riders going along but because of life events, in the end only three could go. Dallas would be in the lead on his steed the BMW R1200RT. Nat, Engeland Moto's second in command, main bike disassembler and any thing else I can think of having him do would be racing after him on his sporty BMW R1100RS. Dan would triumphantly be bringing up the rear on his Triumph Daytona 900. Yours truly was one of those who had been planning to go..... but unexpected circumstances kept me in Engeland minding the shop.

The preferred route to Athens is taking RT 74 east through the Smoky Mountains passing through Asheville, Nantahala, Murphy, and on into Tennessee. A beautiful mountain route that no one could ever argue against taking that route on a bike!

Well, the morning of the ride it began to rain. No problem, they all had their rain gear. Every day is a good day to ride!

The ride through the mountains was not all that scenic that day because the cloud cover and rain kept visibility down to about a hundred yards.  But there is no better way to travel the Smoky Mountains than on a motorcycle weather you can see or not. They were having a great time dodging raindrops. The rain was not that bad. They went through Cleveland TN - Chattanooga TN - and got as far as 50 miles out side of Huntsville AL before they encountered one of those rare conditions that could make the day NOT such a good day to ride..... LIGHTNING!

The rubber tires of a motorcycle do not shield you  from lightning strikes like a car will. There have been documented cases of motorcycle riders being killed by lightning strikes, so please if you see lightning in your area while on a bike, find shelter ASAP.

The rain was picking up. Dallas was following a car along RT 72 not far from Huntsville when he thought he saw a flash through the heavy dark cloud cover. He began searching for a place to take cover up ahead. Suddenly the car in front of him began fish-tailing in the deep water on the road.

He immediately applied his breaks, warning the rest of the team there could be trouble. The car lost complete control and hydro planed across the fast lane, the median and into the oncoming traffic on the opposite side of the highway.

The cars on the other side desperately tried to avoid a head-on collision, but one car could not avoid hitting the back quarter of the oncoming car which sent them both spinning wildly into the ditch.

“OK that does it!” thought Dallas. He saw a small building on the right side off the road where they could find shelter. The three wet weary travelers pulled their bikes next to each other and huddled out of the rain--and more importantly--away from the lightning strikes. From where they stood in there shelter they could see the emergency vehicles arrive on the scene of the accident and ambulances racing away with the patients. They were all very thankfull that they were not the passengers of those emergency vehicles.

They waited about 45min and finally the lightning moved east of them. They mounted there steeds and the resumed the trip to their destination. The staff at Engeland Moto Alabama, (- my brother Steve and his wife Mari), welcomed them with open arms, hot drinks and food to warm them up.

This was one of those trips to remember. But it had just begun!

Stay tuned for Part2 of Engeland's Motorcycle Adventure!

Check out this video of the Berlin BMW motorcycle plant in action.  You can just see the quality of the parts and production as these amazing machines are constructed.  But this quality comes at a price.  Check your local BMW dealer, and you will be astounded!

That's why Engeland Moto exists.  We find quality parts, both used and new, at rock bottom prices.  And pass on the savings to you.  Never pay retail again!  Search our site today!  If you don't find exactly what you're looking for - contact us here  - we'd love to help you find a solution.