since I am not a really big guy and the prospect of piloting a
750 lb bike with three full bags and a passenger translates
Usually, this story can only be fully told over a few pints into about a 1,000 lb, 160hp guided missile ready to be
of beer and a few hours. Since we do not have room for navigated into the wet with lots of rain and steep, slippery,
absolutely everything, I will provide the highlights, and in a and narrow cobblestone streets of the Tuscan countryside-couple of cases the lowlights, of my first Motogiro.
ignorance is bliss.
One Man’s Experience:
Riding in Italy is a long
topic by itself. If you check
the web, you will find more
than forty pages of the
various road signs that you
might encounter in Italy.
The good news is that
many are clones of those
in the USA or close enough
to easily understand them
but there are also a lot
of obscure graphics that
seem meaningless but can
earn you a traffic stop and
a ticket if you violate them.
We picked up our rental motorcycle in Florence (Firenze
in Italian on the maps) and my first challenge was to get out
of town through the insane traffic congestion and down the
Adriatic coast to San Marino, the main headquarters of the
Motogiro. San Marino is like something you would expect to
find at a Disney property but it’s the real thing – a high unscalable mountain peak surrounded by a city wall complete
with castles, cobblestone streets and history.
I got a good orientation to the bike and what to expect on
the highways and byways of Italy, got away from the shop
and fought insane traffic, a hyper sensitive fly-by-wire throttle
that turned the bike into an 8,000 rpm wheelie popping
monster with any slight twitch of the wrist. I got out onto
the streets of Florence and promptly got lost and between
the distractions of crazy drivers cutting you off, lane splitting
Now traffic in Italy is a scooters popping up out of nowhere and road and traffic signs
whole different thing and in a foreign language, we eventually got to the Autostrada for
lane splitting in Europe is standard practice for motorcycles the run down the coast to San Marino.
and it is consistently practiced by motorcycles and scooters
Just after entering the toll route the rains came. Fortunately
alike. Not that this is a bad thing but, unfortunately, every
we have great rain gear, waterproof boots and the Nolan N44
car and truck on the roads
full coverage rental helmets were wonderful so it was snug
and highways seems to
as riding in a cage. Road surface conditions in Italy are as
think they can do it too. It
good as or better than here in the USA so I figured “When in
is like being in a threeRome do as the Romans do” (even if we were in Florence)
dimensional
game
of
so I dialed the Beemer up to 130 km/hr, the legal limit on
dodge-em
everywhere
that road, of course, I was being passed by little eco cars,
ever you go. There is a
semitrailer trucks and nearly everything with two or more
mandatory helmet law in
wheels on the road. Ah yes, the Italian love of speed.
Italy and I suggest you
When we got to the final toll plaza my wife tried to climb off
make sure you have a helmet with wide peripheral vision if
you go so you have a fighting chance to see them coming to pay the toll since her pocket with the Euros in it was not
before they hit you. Italy has speed limits that are actually accessible with her rain suit on while sitting. She got as far
sedate compared to those in the USA but since nobody in Italy as one foot on the ground and ended up doing a back flip
drives the legal limit it is every man or woman for themselves. onto the toll gate--her legs had gone to sleep on the ride.
So here we are, she is laying on the ground trying to get up,
There are a number of European motorcycles and scooters
I had no place for me to try to park and assist and the toll
available at rental firms in Italy and I decided to go with a late
booth attendant is staring with horror out his window and a
model BMW K1600 with side cases and tail bag and GPS.
line of impatient cars and trucks behind us is getting irked at
Now given more choice, I would not have picked this bike
the ignorant Americans. We got the toll paid, were able to get
mounted up and got the hell out of there as quick as possible.
Eventually we sighted San Marino rising above the plains
next to the Adriatic Sea. Following the road from the coast
we started to climb, and climb, and climb some more and
the endless steep switchbacks felt like the climb up to Pikes
Peak. Eventually finding the check-in location, parking the
bike for the night and getting a ride to the hotel
Early next morning I took the BMW to the “scrutineering”
station and did the paperwork for the event and received my
race decals and race bibs for the Pilota (Pilot – that was me)
and the Passeggera ( Passenger – my wife Nancy) and I met
the rest of the American team the “Lucky Bastards”. This was
an eclectic group of guys from the USA who do this event
every year. They are real gluttons for punishment and as a
www.thunderroadscolorado.com
August 2015
Thunder Roads Magazine® Colorado 13