American Motorcycle Design: July 2021

motorcycleThe Enfield Robin is a lesser known cul de sac of the Indian Royal Enfield story in the UK. The model name DR400D stood for Dorsett Robin 400cc Diesel. The machine went on sale in 1992 (or 1993 depending who you believe) and someplace in the region of 100 have been made. It was brutally slow, vibrated monstrously – one thing akin to riding a two wheeled version of an old fashioned dumper truck and gathered speed at the pace of a mobility scooter with a flat battery. If it is yours and you are reading this would maybe like to sell it to me! Personally I rode an Enfield Taurus diesel at an Enfield dealer in Rajasthan some years ago and locate it challenging to say anything nice about it. Diesel motorcycles of course have a staunch following and the Enfield Robin is maybe a best of breed in the regular single cylinder industrial motor conversions. The Robin motor was 412cc and pushed out 8.5bhp. Of course energy was not its selling point, fuel consumption was and in this it excelled at 150mpg even though a single could uncharitably point out that riding a Honda Cub slowly could possibly give comparable figures. The Enfield Robin was a collaboration in between arch diesel motorcycle enthusiast Ernie Dorsett (who had currently built a number of specials and a brief run of Matchless engined diesel machines), Redbreast – the importers of the Japanese Fuji Robin diesel motor, and the UK Enfield importers – Bhavana. That stated an Enfield Robin green laner appeared on eBay not too long ago and I kick myself for not purchasing it.

About the time I was straightened up and in forward gear, a pair of nitwits on hippobikes came wobbling down the street in the opposite direction and 1 of the crossed the center line about 20’ from the front of my pickup. Driving toward downtown on Highway 61 (Yeah, that “Highway 61.”), a big complete dress ubiquitous black cruiser of some unknown brand passed me on the left. Realizing that a strong object was in his random path of travel, the biker managed to weave back into his lane and barely missed each my left fender and the other half-wit who was no a lot more skilled or in manage of his geegaw-disabled automobile. I caught the raised finger of the initially nitwit in my rear view mirror. At first, I was impressed that the bike wasn’t obnoxiously loud and that the rider wasn’t dressed in pirate underwear. He was even wearing some thing resembling a helmet, open face, but not a total toilet bowl.

motorcycleNew Jersey Matt, who disappeared last season, reappeared riding from his north Jersey household up to Connecticut to get started with us from Stratford. They way they told it, Captain’s pace was not adequate to satisfy Grumpy who took his group on ahead at a quicker clip. Matt graduated from his fluorescent yellow/green Darien riding jacket to a full suit, which on huge Matt is a lot of suit. Captain led the larger group and Grumpy the second group. He disappeared final season without having so a lot as a “by your leave.” Turns out his daughter created the swim team final winter. My Honda ST 1100 was acting up. Turns out Matt IS nevertheless alive. The front neck felt loose on the ride down Saturday it seemed to be acquiring worse the far more I rode. I did get off a bit later than I planned Sunday morning. With so huge a group, our Connecticut bears for safety sensibly broke into two groups.

Every single of us rode into and by means of the tunnel and marveled at the scenery as our leader explained the history behind this web site. Ice cold brew, two sorts of brats, potato salad, pasta salad, all sorts of appetizers, and not 1 but two banana cream pies. Just after filling our gullets, we had been off to see an Indian cliff dwelling (1100-1400 AD) that was accessible by means of some rocky terrain (but nothing at all a Honda Passport could not deal with). A definitely nice time was had by all recounting the day’s events. I inform ya, eight KLRs parked along the road sure looked nice! From there we went to Williams (gateway to the Grand Canyon) for gas/lunch. We stopped to visit an old mine (Sycamore) that some riders have been bold sufficient to go into. From the trailhead, there was a brief hike up to the ruins and a view of wonderful Arizona. What did we come across when we returned but a fine spread laid out for us?

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