Orson

I'm far from a single malt connoussiere but, I thought I'd post this trip report to Islay & Jura on my Thruxton (sorry, no Guzzi content). Despite the lack of thrilling motorcycling roads, the isles are very much a worthwhile destination: http://orsonstravels.wordpress.com/tag/isle-of-jura/

Well, at least it happened at the end of the trip on the going home bit so, I didn't lose out on any of the interesting riding.

Wow! The brake failure sounds pretty scary! I saw some car skid marks going off a steep edge with no guard rail. I also suffered a breakdown but, not nearly as thorough as yours. My regulator fried itself on the second to the last day. Luckily I had a reservation at a hotel and called them. They were able to sort out a tow truck to come rescue me. The bike shop sent a truck for it the next day and I took a cab to the airport.

I'm currently in Courmayeur, Italy after a week of splendid weather in the Maritime Alps however, it all seems ready to go pear shaped tomorrow with an 80% chance of rain. Hopefully, I won't get rained on all day!

Wow! Just 900 miles! Great find!

I also own a Thruxton and echo your sentiments about the handling. The exhaust note gives the Guzzi a run for its money though.

I remember seeing one way back when. The owner did the "cigarette standing upright on the tank while the engine purred" trick. This was before I learned that smoothness is an undesirable engine trait

I always like looking at old bikes I saw one of those KR250s and couldn't believe how small they are! Almost bicycle sized.

Beautiful picture

Love the fairing and the color. goes well with the red frame, I also like that big-assed tachometer Lovely sound. Oh yah, the rider ain't too bad either

I had a dirt biking friend who used to use the cigarette cut in half trick

My Tenni has a little over 82,000 km or about 51,000 miles.

I've lived across the causeway in Dhahran for 12 years and never knew they sold Guzzis here. Mind you, I'd never want to ride here due to the crazy local drivers. Anyways, most of my time is spent out on the oil rigs.

Well, snow cancelled the stage.

I just heard the news yesterday that Moto Guzzi dealer Claudio Guareschi died in April of a heart attack. While he may not have been well known outside of the Italian Guzzisti community, he enjoyed an almost cult-like status among Italian Guzzisti, kind of like Pops Yoshimura's relationship with Suzuki. He started his Parma dealership in 1970 and remained a one marque dealer, although he did work on other brands. He truly ate, slept and breathed Moto Guzzi. He reportedly had his regular dealership and workshop facility, and then a secret skunk works area where few people were allowed to enter. He worked on the MGS-1 that his son Gianfranco rode to victory at the 2006 and 2007 Daytona BOT races, defeating the ultra-trick NCR Ducati. Claudio was always ready with a smile and a helping hand for anyone who needed help. He leaves a huge void in the Guzzisti community.

I'm going to try to go spectate the Passo di Stelvio stage of the Giro d'Italia. I hope the roads aren't closed the day before, because I am not the best camper. Anyone know if the roads are open in the morning? I have a feeling that 10,000 vehicles trying to get down off the mountain afterwards will be a bit like Mad Sunday at the TT

I had pulsing front brakes on my Tenni at about the 17,000 km mark. I'm not sure if the rotors were warped, but new rotors cured the problem.

Astral Weeks remains one of my favorite Sunday morning records

After Guillaumes, the road narrows as it begins to climb la Col de la Cayolle. this climb seemed to go on forever. About 10 kilometers short of Barcelonnette, I came upon this road works. D'oh! Merde Alors! I would have to backtrack almost an hour if I couldn't get by. Using my high school French, I found out that they would open the road in one hour, so i decided to cool my heels and wait. After topping up the gas tank in Barcelonnette, I turned south once more and headed up la Col de Maure. While the fall colors aren't as spectacular as New England, there were a few spots of vibrant color. After a long day slaying mountain passes, the mighty, mighty goose stops to absorb some of the scenery. The D-6202 is another wonderfully enjoyable road on a motorbike, fast and flowing, with hardly any traffic or pesky switchbacks to slow your pace. Once again I awaken to bright, blue skies, but alas, my time is running short. I point the goose back towards Italy for the homeward leg. I take a small detour off the autostrada in Italy to the bridge at Dolceacqua that was painted by Claude Monet. Further up the road is the picturesque town of Apricale, perched precariously on a hilltop. Once again, I use the autostrade to blast down the Ligurian coast. Looking back north along the coastline. I spend the last night in Portofino. The view of Portofino harbor from the hotel room balcony. In an effort to blend in with the local populace, team orson purchased some spiffy, Italian loafers. Whereas team orson was treated as a furriner before, now people mistake us for locals and stop to ask us for directions. The next morning, we begin our final leg across the Appenines back to Parma. The scenic road leaving Portofino. I stop for lunch in a small town and take a final photograph of possibly the most beautiful sport touring bike on the planet. Ten years on and the bike never missed a beat, still going strong after 80,000 km. Route Map: Trip stats: Distance- 2,000 kilometers Travel days- 8 Rest days- 0 Carabinieri sightings- 3 Gendarmerie sightings- 0 Deer sightings- 0 Bee stings- 2

I stayed the night in the picturesque town of Moustieres-Ste-Marie on the western edge of the canyon. The hotel's restaurant was fantastic and I left thoroughly bloated after a six-course meal. Even the dessert had a dessert. Moustieres-Ste-Marie in the morning light. We headed north towards les Alpes Maritimes. The south of France is chock full of lazily, twisting two-lane roads. I was amazed at how little traffic there was on these roads. I stopped to take this picture, and not a single car came by during the entire five minutes that I was stopped. The mountains begin to grow as you approach Barcelonnette. At Jausiers, I turn south and head up la Col de la Bonette. The road signs claim that it is the highest paved road in Europe, but Wikipedia disputes this, claiming that it is only the third highest road. As I begin the climb, the skies begin to darken once more. As I reach the summit and begin the descent, I catch a glimpse of the rain waiting for me in the valley below. Fortunately, by the time I make it to the valley floor, the rain has dissipated and I scamper off to find a hotel room. I awaken the next morning to a blazingly blue sky and turn back north. I'm not sure if this is a castle of maybe a monastery high above the valley floor. The D-2202 between Annot and Guillaumes...oh my, my :drool: Such a wonderful stretch of tarmac is the stuff of dreams. the pictures can't begin to do it any justice. I rate the French highway system among the best, if not the best in the world. Most of the main roads a paved with smooth, well marked asphalt. A close up of the church in the distance. Looking back at the D-2202 show it snaking its way alongside a riverbed.

Team orson embarks on a quickie, one-week venture across the border to the motorcycling playground that is the south of France. Departing from team orson's world headquarters in Parma, we stick to the backroads as we make our way across the Appenine mountains to the coast. The early fall temperatures combined with the altitude serve to feed the mighty, mighty goose with a horespower boost in the form of cool, mountain air. We reach the coast by late afternoon and get a hotel room near Portofino. I didn't take any pictures, so I'll cheat and use a picture from a previous trip In a bid to save time, the next day's route will be a blast up the Ligurian coast along the autostrada, the same stretch used by Richard Hammond to race James May in a cigarette boat. The road features dozens and dozens of tunnels cutting thru the mountains that line the coast. I can't even begin to imagine how long the trip must have taken before the autostrada was constructed. Just after crossing the French border, we leave the highway and head up into the hills in search of twisties. As you approach Monaco, you begin to notice an increase in the amount of auto exotica. In a matter of a few hours, I must have seen four or five Bentleys and a couple of Ferraris. Porsches and Mercedes seemed downright pedestrian in these environs. This is the closest they will allow you to get to Monaco on a Guzzi. With the purchase of an iPad, this would be the first trip where team orson traveled with any electronic devices besides a digital camera. Perhaps lured by the flashing lights and whirring noises of this strange device, the team orson navigator threw caution to the wind and drunkenly decided to make a hotel reservation with the contraption. His reckless action would very soon come back to haunt team orson. A tip that the ride along the coast to Cap d'Antibes was enjoyable proved to be wrong, as we encountered lots of traffic and very little scenery. With the skies beginning to darken forbodingly, the decision was made to turn inland at Cannes and hit La Route Napoleon. A few years ago, BIKE magazine declared La Route Napoleon to be the "Best road in Europe." While that would be a subjective opinion for sure, in my opinion they weren't far off the mark. Fast and flowing, La Route Napoleon may be short on photographic charms, but is top shelf stuff for releasing your inner Mike Hailwood For about sixty blissful kilometers, there are almost no towns or side roads to slow your progress. The mostly open nature of the terrain means that four-wheeled chicanes are easily dispatched. Approaching Castellane, the dark skies begin to release their moisture with a vengance. In the past, team orson would have retired to the nearest warm and dry hotel room. But now armed with a newfangled i-Pad, team orson felt compelled to continue onto their reserved hotel room, somm 100 kilometers distant. Harsh words were exchanged between the team orson photographer and navigator, as the benefits of modern technology were called into question. The last fifty kilometers were a slow, wet slog along the road that hugs the northern edge of the Canyon du Verdun. Although it was raining heavily, brief glimpses of its grandeur occasionally revealed themselves. Thankfully, the rain began to taper off later in the afternoon, allowing for a few photographs thru the mist. The following morning dawned with an improved weather forecast, and I spent the day meandering back along the northern edge of the canyon before returning along the southern edge. Coming into a small village, I saw a large group of about 20 motorcycles leaving a gas station. My initial reaction was, "Oh great. I'm going to have to work my way thru the slow pokes." Not to worry though. This was France and these weren't a Harley parade. Within a minute, the group had blasted away. France has a fantastic moto-culture. Despite having roughly the same population as the UK, they have twice as many registered motorcycles.

I had something similar to me on a hot day when I got caught by something like 5 consecutive red lights, all spaced about 100 feet apart! The bike started sputtering something terrible. I pulled off the road and let it sit for about 30 minutes. When I started it up again, everything seemed to be normal. All I could figure was that it had overheated due to the five consecutive red lights on a hot summer's day It doesn't seem to like city traffic. It's happiest out on the open road

Nice pictures...showing serious intent Thanks for the write up

Thanks! That was a great area. The SS17 into Isernia was a fantastic road

There haven't been many pictures of the Goose in this report due to the pain in my leg while mounting and dismounting, so I thought I better take one last shot in front of a carpet of poppies. I stopped for the final night at the same little hotel I stayed in two years ago with a lovely view of the town of Bagni di Lucca. This time I came prepared with a bottle of Tuscany's finest The last day, I crossed the Appenines one last time via the Passo Abetone. There's a small church up in the hills, but it's hard to see in the picture. I arrived in Parma at around 3 P.M. then unpacked the bike and bade my farewells. After 10 years, the mighty, mighty Guzzi had performed flawlessly, devouring every road put before it. Che macchina! Route maps: Central loop Southern loop Trip stats: Distance- 4,100 kilometers Travel days- 21 Rest days-5 Carabinieri encounters- 0 Deer sightings- 1 Bee stings- 0 National Parks ridden- 7