Day 4: Queenstown – Off the Bike

I did nothing today; it felt great!

All of the locomotion definitely caught up with me. The flight to Sydney. Six and a half good, but intensive days with my team from work was a lot of outbound. Three great, long days on the motorcycle mostly by myself, a bit of a kerfuffle getting settled into the hotel, and rain on the way – I was craving a day of nothing to restore and recharge.

Of course the wanderlust inside of me was screaming “you should go to Glenorchy, fly in a helicopter, and more” to suck every moment out of this trip. But my body was saying different things. My left heel was massively unhappy, rubbing inside of my motorcycle boots. My hamstrings were chapped from warm, humid days on the motorcycle. As Kenny Rogers said many times, “You gotta know when to hold ’em and know when to fold ’em.”

Today was a rest day, and that was that.

When traveling across Australia 10 years ago, I rented a BMW F650, and it felt predictable in just about every single way. It was light. The power band was smooth. Acceleration was gentle. The cornering performance was good, but I couldn’t get it out into the dirt to feel its lightness and agility as that trip (much like this one) was completely on the pavement.

Ten more years into my career, I wanted to try something different. New Zealand was a bucket list trip for me, and I wanted to see the best of what BMW had to offer. I went with the R1300GS, BMW’s flagship model for adventure motorcycling. Back at home, I ride the previous model, the R12500GS, which was a small departure from their long-running flagship R1200GS. The 1250GS added a few changes, including a slightly larger motor displacement, ProShift enabling clutchless shifting, a new architecture for cams in the engine, and a lovely TFT display screen.

The 1300GS is way more radical. It’s a complete design restyling—in my opinion, a huge step backwards. The service tech at my local dealership said, “You know you don’t have to look at it when you ride it” said all that I needed to know. This is a meager consolation when spending that kind of money on a motorcycle. But hey, I’m only renting it—it’s only for a week. I find the bike harder to photograph, as I’m just not interested in the way the bike looks.

Not all is lost. BMW clearly up leveled many aspects on the bike. What do I appreciate? Many things.

Increased options with the electronic suspension. The bike automatically lowers at slow speed, making it easier to navigate parking lots and other low-speed situations.
It’s ~40 pounds lighter, also making it easier to move in tight spaces
Heated seat options integrated with the wonder wheel
Turn signals integrated with the brush guards (quite a bit more expensive in a crash) that have options to redirect airflow in summer and winter climates
Electronic windshield that moves up and down to configure airflow
Sport dashboard on the TFT display that I liked metrics like lean angle on your ride
ADAPTIVE CRUISE CONTROL – OMG OMG OMG!
Reduced distance from the seat to the bars – a critical design element for averagely short guys like me

But I don’t think they got the engine right. This bike just had tinny weird noises in the engine that my 1250 doesn’t have at home. Of course, none of it was fatal – it was just an annoying side effect from the redesign that was hard to escape. Also, it always seemed like the battery was going dead as it took way more umph to start the engine on the 1300 than it did on the 1250. Of course, I’m on the other end of the world without all the support infrastructure I have at home, so I’m more sensitive to these types of things – even going to get the battery load tested to ensure I’m fine. I don’t want to be in some remote area without the ability to start the bike. Of course, the battery came back with flying colors. Later, the tour guide acknowledged that these bikes start and sound differently than the 1250s in their fleet.

Several people asked me if I would upgrade to the new 1300. The answer for me is a resounding no. I only have 32,000 miles (51,000 km) on my bike. It’s barely broken in. And, of course, all this is helpful. But my bike is my bike – and that emotional connection isn’t easy for me to replace. I mean, I was the guy that put 117,000 miles on my last adventure tourer. So, the 1250 GS isn’t going anywhere!

My left heel was really starting to hurt walking around in my boots. The laces were getting a little long in the wear department as well. I was time to change out the laces in my boots. These boots have been with me a long time. I’ve been riding with Georgia Boots pretty much my entire career. These are my third pair of loggers. They keep me safe on the bike. Georgia sold out to Tucker Rocky, some national conglomerate, a few years ago. Eventually, the accounting department won over product quality, as their new offerings aren’t nearly as good as my old sets of boots. So, alas, I want to make these puppies last before finding something new. When I get home, I’ll need to find someone to show them love for another 50,000 miles of riding.

There is a cultural element here I just can’t understand. At first, it felt like a relative coolness among the people I interacted with. The interactions at the hotel last night threw me off guard. The culture here is highly direct and matter-of-fact. Looking at the weather the first three days the most common word was “fine.” Americans never describe the weather as fine. We use terms like “abundant and plentiful sunshine throughout the day to go live your best life…” What is this free air freezing level? It’s the middle of summer? Will I have to cross one of these passes with freezing temperatures?

As I was talking with a friend from back in the United States, he laughed, “Americans have this unending amiable optimism that drives most of the rest of the world crazy.” Then the disconnects started to click. Much like I learned spending time in Canada and Australia, sharing a language provides some common context, but cultures can be radically different. New Zealanders are direct, egalitarian, and take pride in their country. Tipping is nonexistent here. For me, it means pushing through a little bit of my own skin to engage directly to start enjoying the culture here.

Did I do anything productive today? I walked down to the lake just to get out of the hotel? The fleeting sun really brought out the color of the water in the lake.