Bikes for Rascals Addicted to Trouble


Tuesday, September 18, 2012


Small bikes are awesome, there’s just no getting away from it. Their size means the ride is wholly engaging. Gears must be changed frequently to adjust for every incline or decline, twist and turn; the road must be carefully navigated to make sure your front tire isn’t swallowed by a crack in the blacktop; large vehicles from the opposite direction must be given wide berth to prevent their draft from reducing your hard-earned momentum, and on and on we propel. It’s a perpetual challenge that allows not a moment for concern about the stresses that lie in wait for us at work or home. It is what motorcycling should be all about and now more than ever. After acquiring this Honda CT110 Trail (mint condition, 1982, 600 original miles, I couldn’t resist) from a fellow Vermonter I rode it home via a twisty mountain rode and smiled like the Cheshire Cat from ear to there the whole time. Okay, some of that was nervous grinning at hurtling along frost-heaved surfaces on what are little more than bicycle tires, but overall it was brilliant fun! And what fantastic gears this bike has, long and strong, clean shifts, plenty of roll on. (There’s also a whole other set of low-range gears that can be engaged for hill climbing!) I had filled up with gas for $3 and change, driven 50 miles home, then ran some errands the next day. The day after I decided I had better fill up again only to find at the pump that the tank was almost as full as when I’d filled it 60 miles previously. I apologized to the attendant and rode off like a proud father…“sorry, I forget I only have to fill up once a month”. He gazed after me in dismay with the nozzle in hand. This is the Honda CT. I’m not quite sure how Honda did it, evidently it was sired from the same stable as the Cubs 50, 70 and 90 but this is a 110 and the difference is profound. I’m awed by the little red bike that could - it keeps with most byway traffic and feels solid on the road. Almost daily I get accosted by passers-by who want to know where the hell I got such an immaculate vintage steed. I just lucked out I guess.