|
|
 |
La Dolce Vita
|
|
|
|
|
|
Motogiro d'Italia road rally
Jeff Buchanan
10/01/2005
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
Zep Gori/Dreamengine
|
Before the 2005 Giro, I had never seen so many rare and
beautiful vintage motorcycles gathered in one place, let alone being ridden—and
ridden hard.
 |
| (Click image to enlarge) |
|
|
My introduction to the historical Motogiro would be full
immersion, riding a 1957 Motobi 125cc. In her day, this diminutive machine—one
year older than me—represented the height of racing prowess, churning out 11 hp
and reaching top speed at 68 mph. The Motobi’s anachronistic shift lever is on
the right, and it further confuses with gears in a pattern reverse to today’s
norm. For a modern rider, this unfamiliar shift pattern, the severe shortage of
horsepower, and tiny drum brakes that contribute more to aesthetics than
function mean that this bike requires absolute concentration.
The Motogiro is
a timed road rally rather than an all-out race, the idea being to complete each
daylong leg—from 210 to 290 kilometers—in the prescribed time without accruing
penalties for actions such as arriving late at a checkpoint, missing a
checkpoint, or cutting the course. Other penalties can accrue during a daily
series of special tests, tight slalom courses, or slow-speed trials, where
points are knocked off for touching a foot down, stalling the motor, or knocking
over a cone. The Motogiro tests not only one’s endurance and the dependability
of antique machines, but also one’s mental acumen for wit and strategy.
 |
| (Click image to enlarge) |
|
|
A
steep learning curve ahead of me, I take off with the racers as they depart the
starting piazza at one-minute intervals. I soon have the Motobi buzzing through
the countryside on the way to Umbria, overruling 30 years of habit when
shifting—remembering that the lever under my left foot is a brake and not a
shifter—and keeping the little 125cc motor within its ever-so-narrow powerband.
Most of these old bikes put out between 12 and 18 hp, so riding becomes an
exercise in momentum; maintaining forward motion demands precision. To keep pace
with the other racers, I hold the throttle to the stop on the winding roads in a
sinuous ballet of low-velocity drafting and patient, gradual overtaking. The
little motor-that-could funnels its burned gases out an unmuffled, straight-pipe
exhaust, and—with throttle to the lock nearly the whole time—its drone rings in
my ears long after it has been turned off. My time aboard the trusty Motobi will
go down as one of the most exhilarating—albeit loud—experiences I’ve had riding
a motorcycle.
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
; function voidFunc() { } voidFunc();)
; function voidFunc() { } voidFunc();)
; function voidFunc() { } voidFunc();){kind=link}