Bikers all belong to one loving motorcycle family within which there are tribes, divisions and boundaries. So, we see sports bikers, touring bikers, adventure bikers, hog lovers, off-roaders and maybe a couple more categories, too. Each group has it’s own vision of what a motorbike should look like and what motorcycling should be. It’s no secret that sometiomes views clash with more than just the exchange of polite banter.
Also true is that some riders fail to figure out where they belong. They roam from one group to another, uneasy, confused and viewed with suspicion by friends, family and other bikers, as well.
There are also those, maybe the most troubled of all, who ride a sports bike or a Harley by day but secretly cherish a motocross machine they keep hidden in a shed out of sight.
Of course, none of this really matters. What counts is enjoying the ride regardless of what your bike looks like.
An Old Twin Shock
Motorbikes never interested me until the age of twelve. It was then that a school buddy of mine received a “hand me down” battered 80cc motocrosser from an older brother. As a result, I was at his home one afternoon, invited to check out his new two wheel marvel.
For sure, the old twin shock scrambler had seen better days. I remember it leaked fluids from tank and engine and stank of Castrol fuel mix. It had worn tyres, the suspension groaned, the handlebars were out of square. But, despite her shabby appearance, the note from the old girl’s exhaust made it clear there was life in the machine yet.
That afternoon I took my first steps into handling clutch, gears and throttle. I fell, got bruised and grazed. I tore my sweater and stained my jeans with oil, grease and mud. I lost control of the bike more than once and convinced myself the thing had a mind of it’s own. It behaved like cornered animal that just wanted to flee or be left alone. By the end of the day I was aching all over but none the less had a grin on my face. I was hooked, I was a budding biker, I had found my tribe, I was and off roader.
Over the years I’ve owned a few bikes and ridden plenty more. Some I liked a lot, others not so much. Of course, things change as you age but that off road edge has always influenced my choices of brand and style when it comes to motorcycles. Here’s a list of the machines that made the biggest impact.
After promising results at school I managed to persuade my father to shed some cash on my fourteenth birthday and became the proud owner of a second hand 50cc trials bike. Completely different to a motocrosser (and not much more than a moped), the Italjet was heaps of fun for a kid of my age and didn’t pass unnoticed with its wacky colour scheme either.
I rode the small bike for years and learned a thing or two about balance, clutch control and riding over obstacles though the lack of real power from the small Minarelli engine never propelled me to any competitive might.
When my working days arrived and after a spell without a motorbike at all, I hunted for a machine with some sort of off-road flavour. I hoped to find a decent second hand Kawasaki KLR 650 but then stumbled upon a rarely seen KLX, the KLR’s beefed up cousin. As soon as I saw the bike I knew it had to be mine. It was just over ten years old with less than twenty thousand kilometres on the dial, only one owner. The bike looked clean and I bought it on impulse there and then.
I loved the KLX very much. It’s torque, reliability and upright riding position were fun on any day. Once again I owned an eccentric machine not many people recognised. In fact, the only KLX 650C I saw on the road was the one I owned and kept for five years.
Of course, it wasn’t perfect. Vibrations at over 110km/h annoyed me at times and the big bore single craved for oil especially during the warmer season. But, it did the job and the bike also introduced me to the world of motorcycle travel. It took me to France, Greece, Turkey and to the dunes of North Africa and back, albeit only just.
KTM 525 EXC
My North African trip on the KLX fuelled an appetite for further off road adventure. Still with the Sahara in mind I went for the kill and bought a third hand KTM 525. I thought this might be the best tool for mud, white top roads and whatever off road adventure I fancied. It was however, a big mistake. The 525 was a beast of a machine with way more power than anyone, other than a professional, could hope to manage sensibly. There was no compromise with this Austrian behemoth. It was either a full white knuckle ride, battling to keep rubber on the ground or nothing at all.
Needless to say the 525 filled me with anxiety every time I rode her and in the long run, I avoided having anything to do with the bike entirely.
KTM 250 EXC
A second hand KTM 250 two stroke was a by far a more sensible approach to green lanes and track events. Above all, the engine was manageable, light and didn’t tire me the way the 525 did. Unfortunately though I found the 250 maintenance hungry. Piston rings, electrics, oil leaks, just got too much for me.
BMW F800 GS
The F800 was love at first sight. To me it remains one of the most appealing designs in enduro adventure bike segment. By no means perfect, the baby GS nonetheless ticks all the boxes for me adequately. It’s reliable, robust, great on fuel economy and can, within reason, handle most easy dirt tracks pretty well.
I’ve travelled extensively on the F800GS, all over Europe and Asia and have come to know the bike’s merits and flaws, well enough. The steering head bearings, the dodgy fuel pump and its flimsy front rim are its immediate issues. These, however are easy to fix. The F8 isn’t suited for long highway runs nor for sustained speeds above 150km/h, either. None of this bothers me. I believe the bike remains a good compromise as far as adventure bikes go. I’ve actually owned two of these and still ride one today.
What bikes would I like to own? Well, it’s an on going joke that motorbikes unlike a girlfriend/boyfriend don’t mind if you dream of newer models or skim through motorbike magazines. So… I like the Ducati Multistrada and although I’m not sure how this Italian prima donna handles it’s certainly a stunner in the looks department. We shall see, perhaps one day I’ll own one or maybe not. Maybe I’ll be enjoying something completely different instead, could even be something electric.
In many large cities of the world, especially in the Middle and far East, there’s an unspoken race to create stunning new architecture. As a result, massive constructions appear every year all over the globe in the shape of gleaming airport terminals, luxury hotels, rocketing skyscrapers and more. Many of these new builds carry a message that goes beyond their stylish design and size. Above all they’re a symbol of the host country’s growth and ambitions on the international stage. The Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur, for example, are considered an emblem of Malaysia’s “developed nation” status. Similarly, the Burj Khalifa and Al Arab do the same for the Emirates. Perhaps the Lakhta Centre in Saint Petersburg is an icon of Russian aspirations, as well.
I’m neither an architect nor a civil engineer and can’t comment on the hazards of building modern high rise structures. However, what I do know is that some architecture, whether ancient or new, can amaze and stun the public. It can also capture the imagination and stir feelings of national pride. After all, how could the Marina Bay Sands Hotel in Singapore fail to impress? How could the Capital Gate Tower in Abu Dhabi not leave an onlooker in awe? Similarly, what can be said about the CCTV building in Beijing?
In Brussels, at the heart of Europe, there’s an older piece of architecture that delivers the same sense of admiration described above. It’s called the Atomium and it’s hardly a skyscraper nor a fashionable hotel. It’s neither a museum nor a government building. In fact, the Atomium has no real functional purpose whatsoever other than being an architectural wonder in pretty much the same way the Eiffel Tower is in Paris.
The building’s charm has all to do with its futuristic design. Its weird appealing “space ball” geometry captures everyone by surprise, it draws smiles and raises curiosity just like every decent work of art. It’s like no other building in the world and rightly considered one of the most iconic in Europe.
You can reach the Atomium easily from down town Brussels. A twenty minute ride on the subway, on line 6 to the Heizel metro stop will get you there. As you exit the station the massive silver spheres and connecting branches of the Atomium’s structure fill the skyline. You can’t miss it.
There are nine eighteen meter diameter balls in the design that at first glance seem positioned randomly. As you get a little closer to the building though, it becomes clear that there is indeed an order. The Atomium is a gigantic model of the “cubic centred” crystal structure, the same structure that is found Iron ore (Fe), Lithium (Li) and many other metals, too.
There’s a wealth of information about the Atomium on line that I won’t repeat here. I’ll just hint at the fact that the structure was built in 1958 for that year’s World International Expo. It was designed by the able hands of Jean Pollak (architect) and Andrè Waterkeyn (engineer) and was never really intended to be a permanent landmark.
Tickets to the venue cost around 15 Euro each for adults and are best purchased on line. However, queues at the entrance are to be expected due to strict security checks. Because of this it took me about fifteen minutes to get through the inlet barriers.
Out of this world
The Atomium’s inside doesn’t disappoint at all. A clever system of escalators, and stairs allows visitors to move easily from one “ball” to the next. In each of these there are temporary art exhibitions, pictures, videos and artefacts from the Atomium’s past, all worth some attention. The round shape of the chambers plus some fancy soft coloured lighting gives each room a different dreamy feeling that is both soothing and exciting at the same time. Part labyrinth, and part museum there’s something to keep everyone entertained inside the Atomium, enough for a few hours of fun at least.
Space ships and movies
The Atomium reminds me of something from a 1950’s movie, like The Forbidden Planet, War of the Worlds, Destination Moon or similar. For this reason once inside I felt as as though on board a C-57D space ship with captain Adams (Les Nielsen) and crew ready for take off. The steampunk style iron cladding, the shape and colours of the inside design reeked of cold war science fiction nostalgia. This was a time in which Sputinks were launched into orbit and atomic bombs kept everyone in check. Maybe Pollak and Waterkeyn purposely meant to capture some of this post war drama when they drew up their plans for the Atomium in the early days of the space race, who knows.
Meal with a view
The highest point of the Atomium is at around 100m form ground level. Of course there are some great views to admire from the windows of the upper most sphere. There’s also a bar and restaurant up there. The menu includes lobster, meat cuts and steamed mussels. Prices are steep but the food is worth it.
I enjoyed the Atomium immensely. If nothing else I took some unusual pictures and got excited about a landmark I think is definitely unique. Hence, I look forward to visiting again some time soon.
If you’re in Brussels, Belgium and have any interest in architecture or perhaps in old sci-fi movies then pay the Atomium a visit. You won’t regret it!
Lake Inari in Lapland, Finland has long been a popular spot for cold weather enthusiasts eager for some outdoor winter fun. People flock to this arctic resort from all over the world, especially during the Christmas season, usually with kids in tow. After all, it’s no secret that Lapland is also home to Santa Claus, his reindeer and merry helping elf’s, too.
Throughout the winter months, tour operators offer a “full on” package here with wooden cabins to sleep in, saunas to relax in, reindeer farms, snow mobiles, and of course a chance to witness the northern lights in all their green luminescent splendour. For many this lasts attraction is the greatest of all.
So, taken by striking web pictures and keen to try some snowmobiling as well, I set off in late February for some Aurora magic. I packed my Nikon D7200, a Sigma 18-35 Art lens, a sturdy tripod, a few other essentials and boarded a Finnair flight from Gatwick to the great North.
In Ivalo, once landed, I found a world of ice, snow and temperatures well below zero to greet me. The border formalities took very time to sort out and once through, a driver escorted me and a small party to our lodges.
The Nellim guest house was comfortable and cosy. The food served was good (especially breakfast) and the day activities for guests had something for everyone to enjoy in the snow. Amongst the favourites were dog sledging, ice fishing and cross country skiing.
The snow mobiles provided transport and were easy to ride, albeit bumpy. I discovered they offered the same sort of thrills an off road motorbike does. As a result, I promised myself I’d find time to investigate these machines a little more some time in the future. It was picture taking that I had come for though on this trip and a chance to take some snaps of the Aurora Borealis most of all.
What set up did I use on my camera? What worked best? Was it easy? Here are the essentials.
1. It’s best to have a DSLR or equivalent with manual settings.
The manual settings available on a DSLR camera, along with a decent lens, permit easy vibrant, detailed images. When set up correctly a modern DSLR yields instant results that require little post processing on a computer.
A smartphone will also work, but image quality might not quite be the same as that of a DSLR. A lower quality smart phone camera might simply be disappointing.
2. A “full frame” machine is preferable.
A 35mm “full frame” format camera has a bigger sensor, bigger than most consumer grade machines. This allows for shorter exposures, lower ISO settings and consequently comparatively less grainy, noisy pictures.
3. Use the fastest wide angle lens available.
Use the best quality, biggest aperture lens you have available. An aperture of maybe 2.8 or bigger still is ideal for low exposure times.
4. A tripod is a must!
It’s cold out there, in the snow and ice in the middle of the night and exposure times in the dark can be several seconds long. Consequently a tripod is the only way to avoid camera shake and blurry pictures both for cameras and smartphones.
Set the lens to the widest angle available (18mm or even less). Aperture at maximum or just under maximum, wherever image quality is best. Focus needs to be on “infinity”. This can be achieved by focussing the lens in auto mode on a bright subject 30m to 40m away (or more). The lens will set itself to infinity this way. Then, disengage auto focus mode, flip to manual and do not touch the lens again.
Exposure times should be around ten seconds at the most. Any longer than that will produce images with noticeably blurred stars due to the Earth’s rotation.
ISO settings depend on the combination of the camera’s sensor and lens. A compromise is necessary (while shooting) for bright enough images and the exposure times mentioned above. I found that ISO 800 to ISO 1250 worked well for me without too much noise in any of my pictures.
6. Shoot raw
Raw images allow greater post processing flexibility.
7. Have a spare battery!
The cold will run down batteries faster than normal. It’s best to have an extra ready to go. Keep the spare warm in a pocket until needed.
8. You need luck.
A combination of clear skies and good solar activity is essential to see the aurora. It’s no use standing around with camera in hand on a cloudy night. Furthermore, it’s always good to be creative. It seems like the better pictures of the lights are all about telling a story and creating an atmosphere. The lights work well when used as a detail (albeit a big one) in the background. Glowing camp fires, tents, snow mobiles or people are effective props to “anchor” pictures in the foreground.
I spent three hours on lake Inari, at minus fifteen degrees with my nose pointing to the heavens. The lights were one of the most captivating spectacles I have ever seen. At first, they darted around in the sky, twisting, coiling and turning, Sometimes they appeared suddenly as if by the flick of a switch. Other times they would take shape slowly in a warm glow. Similarly, they would then dissolve and reappear elsewhere above the horizon.
Colours changed from green to green-blu with occasional streaks of red. Sometimes the lights were sharp and bright, more often they were a misty blur. Many times shafts and beams of green seemed to drop from the heavens and bounce low on the clouds above the tree line in a yellow glow. It felt all a bit mystical.
I had two batteries with me for my shoot and used one up entirely in the space of just over an hour. I remember brushing off some frost from my camera to change the battery out. Finally I made my way back to the guest house in the early hours of the morning when the cold on my feet became unbearable. It would have been good to have had more time to experiment with composition and maybe a change in location, too.
All in all Inari was a great, worthwhile experience and lucky one as well. The best time of the year to see the lights is autumn and early spring. There are apps available that can accurately predict times and places for the best sightings that work very well. “My Aurora Forecast and Alerts” is one of the most popular.