Moto-Foxhunt: The Cat Got The Canary!

Since I took delivery of my Yamaha TW200 back in March, I have been riding it as much as I can. Its a little one-cylinder thumper with a (less than) whopping 14 horsepower output. It really can’t go on highways because it is too slow. They call it a tractor. I’ve been calling mine “Chubby”. I am working on seeing if the name sticks… Chubs the TeeDub!

The bike is absolutely perfect for the crappy roads of Massachusetts, bouncing easily through endless potholes and a new trend of invisible speed “humps”. It just bub bub bubs along at a slow creep in bumper to bumper traffic. I have fallen off it twice now, and counting those falls, have dropped it three times. Including in the parking lot seen below! But mostly it feels remarkably easy to operate and (knock on a giant oak tree) not nearly as unsafe as I expected.

This morning I got notification via one of the ham radio email listservs I subscribe to that Tim W1MWS had hidden a transmitter up on some conservation land in Chelmsford. It had been quite a while since I went amateur radio direction finding (otherwise known as “foxhunting”), and I briefly wondered if I could manage to race the setting sun and get up to the Chelmsford after work from Boston. I would not be able to take highways and Google predicted a two hour one-way trip at rush hour. And could I carry all the gear — including the yagi beam with me? I decided to go for it.

Ta Dah! I took this picture right after I dropped poor Chubby, launching myself off the bike in the process. I am very thankful for my goofy-as-hell Aerostitch suit (which has been shoved into my now repurposed giant Hyperlite Mountain Gear backpack). The other time I fell, it was on a road somewhere near Worcester as I was making my way all alone 200 miles to our farm in New York. The Aerostitch suit prevented any injuries. There is a motorcycle saying: ATGATT meaning “All the Gear All The Time” and I am a believer. The other great thing about this bike is that it is really lightweight for a motorcycle. I can pick it up without much problem.

I was all set to look for the fox by 7:30pm. A full two and a half hours after I left Boston. I gave myself thirty minutes to find the fox or go home. It took me fifteen.

I was quite grateful that I was able to find it swiftly. My foxhunting equipment is rather dialed in now, particularly for walking hunts. I use a Yaesu FT-4X handitalkie, which has a nice S-meter. The antenna is an Arrow 2M handheld yagi. Sitting between the radio and the antenna is a Pasternack 0-82.5 dB toggle step attenuator that provides the secret sauce. Just point the yagi in the direction where the signal is strongest, and keep attenuating it until the directionality (and eventually location) becomes obvious. It certainly helped that Tim kept the hunt pretty straightforward.

I got back to Chubs just as twilight was descending. By the time I got home, I surpassed 1000 miles on my 3 month old bike.

The cliche of motorcycles and freedom… I guess they would call it a “meme” in modern times. I did indeed buy Chubs to free me from the dire parking situation in Southie. The problem being there is none. And it is a pleasure to be able to park in front of my home when I come back late at night. I once bought a Smart car for the same reason. Lately being able to park anywhere at all is the bar I strive for…

But something else is starting to happen here. I have heard that a motorcycle can start to feel a bit like man merging with machine. All of your limbs have functions: right side braking and throttle, left side shifting gears. And they need to operate in concert with one another to control the bike. It feels so clumsy at first. But as skill develops and muscle memory starts to take over, there is a melding of human and metal that seems to occur. And a dual-sport like the T-dub can literally go almost anywhere — it is made for offroad even more than pavement.

And at night, with the cool wind blowing through the vents of my bulky Aerostitch suit, bugs clicking off of my visor, the smell of lilacs as I pass by well-coiffed lawns, perfectly matched shifting of gears down streets I’ve never known, the hypnotic vibrations of the revving engine buzzing my helmet. I find myself remembering — remembering — freedom.

And I remember you.

KM1NDY