After nearly 25 years of riding, I consider my enthusiasm for all things motorcycles a source of boundless joy, but little did I know how important a particular bike is – a Honda’s motobike Trail 125 – will help me recover from the sickest time of my life.
The story begins in the morning on my scheduled Covid-19 vax in February 2021, when, fortunately, I woke up with flu-like symptoms. The test showed I was positive, so I started a mandatory two-week home isolation. It feels like the flu – no big deal. But 17 days after that positive test result – also after the flu symptoms disappeared – a new wave of symptoms emerged that would change my life indefinitely.
GOOD READING: “The Long Ride,” by Jamie Elvidge,
about a solo cleaning trip from NYC to Key West
Advertisement
The worst of these are extreme dizziness, intense feelings of dizziness, confusing disorientation, and total loss of balance. Sometimes, moving half an inch in any direction felt like falling off a tall building – my body tensed, broke into a cold sweat, and then swayed uncontrollably, which further compounded my dizziness. aggravated. I am completely incapable, unable to perform even the simplest tasks autonomously.
So begins the arduous journey back to normalcy, starting with learning how to walk. It may sound strange now, but walking pace was initially a challenge that took a week of consistent practice to overcome. Staggering forward at 2 mph was more like vertical speed, as my engrossed mind struggled to process the motion like an old 386 computer had gotten bogged down. I had to stop every few steps to keep my balance and reassure myself that, really, I was just walking! Meanwhile, a nagging feeling of dizziness reigned every waking hour, ending with severe headaches that could not be relieved.
These migraines are always aggravated by atmospheric pressure, so if it rains, I’m totally unlikely to get them. The only way out is to sleep. When I close my eyes, the hot white beams interrupt my rest, like lightning but with a more pronounced duration. Any sound, no matter how small, will immediately wake me up. A novel sensitivity to light exacerbated symptoms, making any surroundings other than a soundproof, pitch-black room intolerable. It was a period of depression, to say the least.
In the early stages of this illness, I would amble down to the garage to look at my motorcycle collection. Each of them triggers an avalanche of memories, beckoning me to recall better times. “Remember all the states we visited together?” my query BMW R 1200 RT. “Didn’t you miss the saucy growl of my little V-Twin?” my cleaning Moto Guzzi V7 Racer. “Don’t forget the winter that you cut me all apart and made me run again!” commanded my Yamaha YSR50.
In the early days after the infection, daydreaming in the empty garage between the resolute desire to get back in the saddle and the bleak hopelessness from which I would never recover.
Over the next few months, I graduated in walking and running, but only at a low level. I can drive again, albeit slowly. I finally dared to ride a motorbike for a short distance, if only to let the old juice flow again. But riding with “long Covid” symptoms is a profound disability. Headaches and dizziness can strike like a thunderbolt in my head, very intense and debilitating.
Most disturbing was the “brain fog,” which would come on suddenly, disrupting my ability to focus on anything for more than a few seconds. It happened to me once while rushing my 600-pound BMW RT through a mountain road sweeper, where I crossed the opposite lane facing oncoming traffic, unsure of where I was going. that how. Other times, I suddenly forget the basics, such as which side of the handlebar the clutch lever is on. My brain is frustratingly dysfunctional.
Adding to these mental challenges are physical challenges. I’ve driven successive generations of BMW’s venerable RT Series for over 15 years, but I’m suddenly appalled by the size, weight, and speed of my 2015 R 1200 RT. Moving at low speeds is unstable, and anything fast or technical paralyzes my mental processing. It was a watershed period in my life.
It took me years of dedicated training to achieve some level of riding proficiency, and it was really hard for me to accept that many of my abilities were gone. Riding my full-size motorcycles – once almost the most enjoyable activity I could imagine – had turned into something stressful and dangerous. I know I want to keep riding, but I have to slow down until my symptoms and skills both improve.
Since taming my big bikes was inevitable, I had to find a way to combine what was left of my riding skills with a suitable machine that was still a motorcycle. . (In my mind, riding an auto-scooter that twists and goes will have to accept defeat.) Join Honda’s Trail 125, Big Red’s rough-and-ready classic miniMOTO. Simple, light and slower than a quiet sloth, it was the perfect choice for my situation.
Through persistent searching, I found one and began searching the slow paths through the hamlets and local woods. It was here, in these solitary expeditions, that the Trail began to heal me.
Regardless of our diverse backgrounds and brand preferences, we all recognize the therapeutic value that motorcycles bring. Some refer to what the late psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi called “flow,” or the mental state in which a person is completely immersed in the moment, fully focused, and free of all thoughts. . The late Rush drummer Neil Peart described the feeling of motorcycling as a subconscious reminder of a mother gently rocking her baby. Each of us swinging our legs over the saddle has our own reasons why two-wheeled mobility mediation just works.
So it was for me on the Trail, riding rough roads in the woods, gliding along twisty bike paths, and just focusing on the basics to discover how to drive again. . Like being relegated to walking, I was a bit frustrated at first, but Honda’s gentle little personality encouraged me to keep trying no matter what. Wherever we were, it signaled to me to keep pushing: “Let’s go! Just a little more! ”
Advertisement
It’s hard to describe the character of an inanimate object, but the Trail never judges me for my mistakes the way my big bikes often do. We started out on local loops 40 to 50 miles long, but before long we were traversing neighboring states for 300 to 400 mile weekends. I felt like a real racer again, slamming into the semi-automatic transmission through its four gears and unleashing all eight of the mini-clutch’s eight bucks as we bombed the back road. .
True, all of this action is unbelievably slow by objective standards – but it’s happening in a way that only a real motorcycle can. This constant engagement is what has rebuilt my ability to focus on a single task for long periods of time – the cornerstone of good riding. Thanks to the Exciting Trail, I stayed in the game, still moving forward, and slowly building my confidence back. According to GPS, I never went above 59 mph in the humble Honda, but on the fun side I might as well have led the caravan around the Isle of Man TT!
Encouraged by the advancement, I’ve outfitted my Trail with extras to enhance functionality and add some flair to its spartan-like aesthetic. The massive 58-litre Givi top case offers ample storage, while a premium deluxe rear seat, wireless phone charger, auxiliary LED lights, Opmid gauges and gear Eat fast Koso Apollo hot tongs giving you a more comfortable travel experience.
Crafting this Trail as my own has cemented the bond between man and machine almost as much as our own rides. In the end, I’m sure I wouldn’t have recovered so quickly, without this magenta miniMOTO as a willing partner.
Today, I accept that Covid-19 has weakened me, perhaps permanently. My innate senses, mental processing, and physical reaction time are still not what they used to be, but I am confident that over time they can be restored. Indeed, these days, I find myself more integrated on my full-size motorcycles as I relearn how to ride them again.
In the meantime, I’d like to thank Honda for making this little Trail special – one that brings all the essential healing joys of wind therapy to beginners as well. like a pro, even if it’s in the slow lane.
