/// MOTO CHRON ///

When I'm a little hungry, I often rumble over to one of the many convenience stores in my corner of Kobe. Here, I can find cute miniaturized versions of my favorite confections, a tempting new fizzy drink or seasonal ice cream flavor. I didn't expect to stumble upon this gem of a miniature motorcycle at my local Lawson's , but I'm so glad I did. Just look at it. It is magical. It is glorious. A piece of crap? Yes, no doubt. Only in Japan? Of course. Someone's pride and joy? Absolutely. We measure bikes all wrong. Horsepower, torque, weight, dyno charts, lap times. However, If you measure a bike by the sheer delight it can illicit, then you cannot deny the allure of the clapped out, truck sticked mini-bike. Cheap enough to buy, maintain and crash on a any budget, and - this is key - cheap enough to ride like a horseman of the apocalypse. No number can quantify joy, so there is no use in looking at statistics. The charm of this bike truly lives in the details - so let

In America, we motorcyclists are both spurned and ignored. On the fringes of acceptable society and in the spaces between acceptable traffic, we are literally and figuratively an eyesore in a blind-spot. Images of renegade, outlaw, vagabond and nomad might surface in a soccer-mom focus group when asked about us. Popular culture has painted us with a broad brush, Easy Rider, Sons of Anarchy, Hell's Angels all come to mind. Of course, this perception could not be further from the truth, but it is our invisible burden to bear. Some of us ignore it, some of us embrace it, but it's always riding just behind us like a shadow. The 10-ton tattooed elephant on the pillion seat, if you will. There is, however, one public space the elephant cannot follow. A place where your leathers and helmet and sordid appearance won't garner a second look from anyone because they all look equally disheveled. I am talking about your friendly neighborhood motorcycle hangout. It might be a place inten

If you live in Japan for any amount of time, you will notice a gang of highly skilled riders  buzzing about in perpetual motion. S porting red bikes and open-face helmets, their eyes harbor a steely focus that seems both malevolent and stoic at the same time, their faces blistered, wind-burned and leathery from constant exposure to the elements.  They possess a preternatural control of their machine, dragging pegs to pavement, one hand on the throttle and the other gripping a fistful of envelopes. I am of course talking about the indominable, unflinching, pound-for-pound greatest rider in the world, the Japanese postal worker and their finely tuned weapon, the Honda Super Cub MD. In a recurring segment I'm calling JDM, I'll unearth a bit of Japanese riding culture for your reading pleasure. I t is easy to romanticize the humble postal worker and their little red Honda Super Cubs, dutifully traversing every paved corner of the country in the fulfillment of their essential dire

BIKE ENVY Feast your eyes my friends. Although the good book specifically forbids coveting thy neighbor's possessions, I'm afraid this beautiful example of Kawasaki's 2-Stroke H2 Mach IV hath made me a sinner. In a recurring segment that I'm tentatively calling BIKE ENVY, I'd like to bring you the strange and wonderful motorcycles I see around town so that we might all be able to ride vicariously through these awesome machines. Go on, swing a mental leg over this blue beauty and settle into that 70's feeling. Now start her up and head out on the open road, but say a quick prayer as you do, because this bike's 74 horses are bottled up in very narrow power-band, and if you're not extremely delicate with the throttle, the sudden stampede may overwhelm the frame in a corner or lift the front to the sky on a straight. Such misbehavior earned the H2 Mach IV the nickname "widowmaker" and cemented the bike in motorcycle infamy while introducing many a

The warrior king of displacement is stepping down from his throne. The brute force battle he waged in his heyday has become a digital brand of warfare with TFT displays, launch control, wheelie control, electronically adjustable suspension and quick shifters defining the new era of superbikes. The rules have shifted as well with ever tightening emissions regulations - I'm looking at you Euro 5! The King gracefully acknowledges his time has passed, and we, his humble subjects acknowledge that his specific blend of power, style and authority, can never precisely be matched again. I am talking about the venerable ZX14R, also known in certain markets as the ZZR1400. Kawasaki's big boss Ninja will be riding off into the sunset, but not before making one last stand in showroom floors with a final edition 2021 model. Living in LA, it was very rare for me to spot a ZX14 in the wild, but here in Kobe, I see one of these almost daily - a tribute to the refinement, ease of use and daily r