bikes that needed checking out. It was there that I saw it, my new bike, a shining gunmetal grey Triumph Sprint ST, calling to me, "I am meant to be yours, buy me". So I did as any responsible man would do, I walked to the door.................and along the way I found the salesman to get the low down on this dream machine. All was going well until the matter of the trade-in value for my Buell was brought up. Seems that pre-owned bikes don't have much value, especially at Eximports. So for the time being the Triumph would remain a dream. That rebuff, however, gave me time to do some research on the Sprint, to see whether ol' Dennis the salesman was being fair dinkum or just giving me the spiel. I Googled bike reviews from both the US, Australia and Europe, all were glowing in their assessment of the bike, shortcomings were very minor, all praised the handling, power, comfort and, above all, the value for money. I was hooked, this was the one I wanted. BMW's are way too expensive, at least another $6k more than the Sprint, but are they $6K better? Perhaps, but I don't have $20K plus to spend on a bike anyway. The Kawasaki Concours 14 and the Yamaha FJR1300R both cost more than the Sprint and didn't offer anything much more than larger cc 4 cylinder engines.
With the trade-in value of my Buell an important consideration I started looking at pre-owned Sprints online. Interestingly, there were very few for sale, especially when one considers the size of population of this country. Maybe there haven't been many sold, but that didn't make sense, there are several Triumph dealerships in every state. Furthermore, magazine write-ups seem to suggest that there are plenty out there who've bought them. I found several reviews from Sprint owners who just loved their bikes. Maybe the reason why there were so few for sale was that people who had one actually liked the bike so much they felt on need to replace it.
It was to Ebay that I finally turned. Again, very few for sale, some months only a couple, other times more, but never more than 5 or 6. Now I acknowledge that the sellers want to sell, and some of their comments need to be taken with a grain of salt, but without exception all raved about their Sprint's, they couldn't all be outright liars, surely. For various reasons some had to sell their bikes, loss of a job, getting married and the wife-to-be didn't like motorcycles (then why marry her?), wanting another style of bike but couldn't have two, and so on. Others had circumstances change and a bike was no longer a part of it, still some had just had enough of riding.
For the next 10 months I kept an eye on Ebay and a couple of used bike websites, watching the comings and goings of the Sprint market. I got a fairly good idea of the prices for any given year model, what accessories and modifications different owners were installing, seeing the whole range of colours available. It was a valuable time of learning for me. I even had a dabble at bidding for a couple, never really being too committed however.
Early Sept. I found her, a cool looking silver '06 model with burnt orange trim and a few important extras. The starting price was low and better still, the bike was in northern Florida, an easy round trip from Houston. Nine days later after some negotiating with the seller she was mine.So it was early on a Saturday morning that I flew to Gainesville, Florida, via Atlanta, to take delivery of the Sprint. A little after midday I was on my way back to Houston on board an '06 Triumph Sprint ST, with a 1050cc 3 cylinder engine purring away. The bike was smooth, I mean really smooth, effortless acceleration through a 6 speed box that was just too easy to use. My biggest issue was going to stay on the right side of the law, this baby could fly.
Gainesville is the hometown for the Florida Gators, the Sat. I arrived was game day. I was advised to stay well away from the downtown area to avoid the inevitable traffic congestion, and as I planned to be back in Houston the next afternoon I had no wish to get caught up in the football crowd. I was directed to I75 by going around Gainesville rather than through it, a few extra miles, but on this particular day a lot less time. So I saw very little of the city, just the outskirts, but that's ok, it'll still be there for a future trip.
I75 is a good road north through Florida, traffic was light, I guess everyone was at the game, so I made good time. To tell the truth I took very little notice of the Florida countryside, I was more concentrated on the Sprint. It had a totally different feel to my Buell, riding position, clutch action, throttle. Before long I'd turned west on to my old favourite, I10, Houston in my sights. My plan was to make Mobile, Alabama, stop there for the night and Houston early Sunday afternoon. All good plans go astray somewhere, mine was no exception. Late afternoon I began feeling the cold, I stopped for gas and put on everything I had including thermals. But I think the damage was done, by the time I neared Pensacola I was extremely cold, shivering uncontrollably. I rolled into the nearest Motel 6, signed in, unloaded my gear and ran a bath. Where's the hot water? I could only get warm. Where's the complimentary soap and shampoo? For $37 I guess you can't expect too much. After a wild night of what was perhaps hypothermia followed by a fever, I awoke early Sunday feeling like new, well almost.
Thank goodness for McDonald's, we all know there's better food out there, and there's worse, but Macca's is consistent, neither really good nor really bad, the same everywhere, kind of comforting, safe and dependable. Anyway, I don't care, I like Macca's, always have done, I know all the foodies turn their noses up at the mere sight of the "golden arches", but for me it's all good. After a "big breakfast" and a couple of cups of pretty good coffee I was on the road right at 6.30, a warm sun on my back. The Sprint felt even better as I sped west.
The home ward journey was uneventful, traffic was relatively light. No matter what they say in Washington DC, this is still a Christian country if church car parks are anything to go by. All that I saw along the way through northern Florida, Alabama and Mississippi were full. I10 winds through some beautiful country, magnificent trees rise above the road like towering green barriers protecting the land beyond from the ceaseless procession of east and west bound travellers. If I'd had more time I would have stayed on I10 down through New Orleans, and maybe taken the big bridge over Lake Pontchartrain, but that's for another day.
Crossing the mighty Mississippi at Baton Rouge is always a thrill for me, this iconic river that has played such a vital role in the history of this nation, the boundary between East and West, the main artery into the vast interior. It was losing control the river that spelled the end of the Confederacy during the Civil War. The Mississippi is everywhere, music, literature, art, cuisine, folklore, politics, history. As a boy I'd read Mark Twain, seen the movies of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn and dreamt of one day seeing this place for myself. It was in 2004 that I first saw and experienced the River, at Hannibal, Missouri, where Twain wrote his classic stories. I've revisited the Mississippi many times, as far north as Quad Cities, Illinois, where I put my feet into the waters and collected a couple of stones, New Orleans, Natchez, and of course several times while on I10. I never tire of looking out at the great body of slow moving water. A road trip planned for the future is to follow the great river from New Orleans to it's source. I'll need a month or so but it'll be an amazing journey through the heart of America.
Crossing the huge Achafalaya Basin and the Henderson Swamp is the other highlight as I make my way on I10. It seems an eerie and foreboding wilderness, an unwelcoming place where the laws of nature appear to take precedence over anything man may attempt to impose. The vastness of this wetland is none the less captivating, almost daring us to enter it's forbidden world. The fact that there is supposed to be an "unknown" number of people, the Cajuns, who have for generations made this region their home, survived and prospered in this watery realm only adds to the mystery. I can see a Swamp Tour happening one day.
From Lafayette, Louisiana, it's pretty much a straight run to Houston, more traffic the further west I go. By now I'm feeling very much one with the Sprint, I've had a taste of the powerful potential this machine has, it is a delight to ride. But, as it would be on any bike, 450 miles is hard on the bum, and mine was no exception, another Buell experience. A short rest somewhere west of Beaumont gave the nerve endings some relief, then it was one last push for Houston. I rode into 503 Roy St at 4.00pm, 520 miles for the day, to be met by two excited corgis and my wonderful wife. It doesn't get much better than that.
The Triumph Sprint ST is a brilliant bike purposely designed for touring, with power, comfort, great ergonomics, excellent fuel economy, good sized panniers, all put together in pretty smart looking package. I was delighted with my "Trumpie". This is the bike I will see North America on, it's that good. Now I have
two bikes, for how long is any ones guess. Maybe Gayle could get her motorcycle licence?
two bikes, for how long is any ones guess. Maybe Gayle could get her motorcycle licence? Top speed: 102mph (163kph)
Ave. speed: 63mph (101kph)
Ave. fuel consumption 44.5mpg
Riding time: 12.3 hrs
Total distance: 830miles (1328kms)
ps. the best bumper sticker I saw: "Jesus is Coming, look busy"
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