Load It Up and Move It Out


Motorcycles aren’t just for joyriding. When I ride my bike I like to go someplace. Sometimes it’s just to Fred’s to buy some new washcloths, or to church for the Wednesday evening service. Sometimes it’s a day trip to some city or state park an hour or two from home. Now and then I’ll go on an overnight ride, to a work-related meeting, on vacation, or just home for the weekend to see my parents.

When you travel you have to carry stuff. Motorcycles aren’t really built for that. That means you have to load them carefully. Motorcycle tourists often equip their bikes with panniers, hard-sided containers like suitcases that they attach to the sides. Many also have “top boxes.” These are basically scaled-down car trunks that mount onto the back of the bike.

I can’t afford such fancy gear. So I make do with a pair of old-fashioned “throw-over” saddlebags. You just throw the center connecting strip over the motorcycle’s pillion seat and you’re good to go. Throw-over bags can be easily removed at your destination and carried inside. This can get you some funny looks at a motel or hotel.

I was also fortunate to find an ingenious portable top box that fits over my pillion seat. It’s about the size and shape of a large overnight case, with a carrying handle on top and a set of built-in bungee cords on the bottom for hooking it onto the motorcycle’s frame. I often use it even on short trips and keep it stocked with items I normally need with me when I ride. These include the bike’s title and proof of insurance documents, sunglasses, sunscreen (A must for a fair-skinned rider on an exposed two-wheeler), and water (Riding in hot weather sucks the moisture right out of you). I also carry a couple of bungee cords, lens wipes in case I have to clean the visor on my helmet, and a small towel for drying the visor and seat if they get wet.

Since the saddlebags and top box together only give the carrying capacity of a single fair-sized suitcase, an overnight trip requires careful packing. My rain gear (another must on a long trip) takes up a good part of one bag. A pair of shoes and a few other odds and ends will fill it. The other bag can hold two or three days’ worth of clothes. On weekend trips home these will include a carefully-folded Sunday outfit, with dress shoes in the other saddlebag with the rain gear (On visits home I ride to church in the car with Mom on Sunday—I’d never try to ride a bike in my Sunday best! I do recall Dad riding to church in a suit and tie at least once; nobody said much, since he was the pastor). Contact lens paraphernalia, personal hygiene items, and so forth can go in the top box.

Occasionally I still need more carrying capacity. That’s when I use the “sissy bar,” the back rest mounted just behind the pillion seat. My bike did not have one when I got it. Dad improvised one for me by taking a short back rest intended for a Harley Sportster and lengthening it with steel bars salvaged from an old outdoor grill. Remarkably the pieces look like they belong together. It’s still a bit odd-looking, but the bar is as sturdy as one could wish. If need be you could probably lift the entire bike by that bar.

There is a short length of fender in back of the sissy bar that can serve as a kind of cargo rack. Between the bar and the fender I can carry, and have carried, just about anything smaller than a piece of furniture. This is good because the limited shopping opportunities in our town mean that even somebody like me who’s not a great shopper has to get in a bit of out-of-town shopping whenever the opportunity presents itself. I’ve come home with new clothing, books, office supplies for work, and more. Early this summer while on a day trip I found a lovely, inexpensive framed print at an antique place an hour from home. With a couple of bungee cords and good wrapping to keep it from getting scratched I was able to take it home with no problem. I’ll often carry a backpacker’s day pack that can be folded up and stowed away when not in use. When I get something to put in it I can loop the carrying straps around the sissy bar, set it on the rear fender, and add a bungee cord or two for good measure.

On the ride to Key West that I joined two years ago I replaced the day pack with an Army surplus rucksack. To this I attached a sleeping bag and a small hiking tent. When everything was in place it made for a reasonably manageable and secure load that did not affect the bike’s handling. I had room to carry gear and clothing for six days, a few souvenirs, and even a couple of items that another rider did not have room to carry.

This loading job looked much more professional than my early attempts at motorcycle camping on the little bike I first started riding. That load did affect the bike’s handling; when I stopped I felt like the bike was about to tip over at times. It was also very bulky and conspicuous. At a fuel stop somebody asked me whether I was running away from home.

Of course my gear also includes what I wear. I never ride without my helmet—a full-face model with a visor that gives good all-around protection but makes it hard to sneeze. Unless it’s a very short trip I also wear a leather bomber jacket and gloves. In very hot weather I may substitute a long-sleeved overshirt for the jacket. Since I don’t look anything like most people’s idea of a biker without my gear, I tend to feel vaguely like an imposter in it.

But I wear it for protection, not style. It’s not just there for head and road-rash protection in case of an accident, either. When you ride you take a battering from the elements—from the sun and the sixty-mile-per-hour winds, to say nothing of any rain you might encounter. The long sleeves give the skin much-needed protection. The amount of bug debris I clean from my helmet tells me all I need to know about whether I want it protecting my face. I don’t see how riders who refuse to wear helmets can stand it!

Ideally I should wear protection for my legs and feet as well. I do have a set of leather chaps. But I find them so awkward and conspicuous that I use them only in cold weather when I need extra wind protection. As for foot protection, I make do with an older pair of tennis shoes.

It may sound from the above like a motorcycle rider sacrifices a good bit in the way of comfort and convenience compared to a traveler going the same distance in a car. It’s true—you do make some sacrifices. But for those of us with the riding bug these are well worth what we get in return. Riding out in the open, on a machine you ride as an extension of your body, is a lot of fun. It’s also challenging. Sometimes it’s good to pose a little challenge for oneself. Working out a way to travel for days at a time, making do with only what you can carry on a minimalist vehicle, is one of those challenges. Though it can be annoying sometimes, it’s also part of the fun.