Three Epic Rides for 2025
Our first year in a new-to-us house meant doing a lot of chores both inside and outside. That threw off my plans to explore this wonderful province of British Columbia. As a result, I didn’t get as much riding in during 2025 as I had originally hoped.
I did get out for a bunch of day trips to explore a few highways, backroads, fire roads and a number of trails here and there, but it’s never enough.
I was, however, able to manage three stand-out adventures in the summer of 2025.
Ride #1
SHUSWAP CIRCLE TOUR
STORY BY GLENN ROBERTS
The first major ride of the year was a ride hosted by Mark Lane of Dreamcycle Motorcycle Museum. Mark’s museum, which features more than 100 years of motorcycle history, is located on Trans-Canada Highway 1 in Sorrento, B.C.
Emily and I met Mark and four other riders at Sprokkets Café early in the morning to get to know each other over breakfast. Sprokkets Café is part of the museum, and I highly recommend you check it out if you’re in the area — all the food and baked goods are made from scratch, and the coffee is excellent.
The plan was to spend the whole day riding clockwise around Shuswap Lake. But there’s more to that statement than just following a shoreline. The complexity of the ride focuses mostly on the fact that there are very few regular roads, and in many sections to the north and the east side of the lake there are only logging roads, some of which seemed pretty sketchy, desolate, and seldom used.
In addition to founding and running Dreamcycle Museum, Mark is also the owner/operator of Canadian Motorcycle Adventure Tours, and he has been appointed Western Canada’s representative for Iconic Motorbikes Auctions. I don’t know where he finds the time.
Shuswap Lake consists of four distinct arms in the shape of a stylized “H” with a small narrows that connect the two sides. After the pavement petered out on the north side of the lake at Saint Ives, we were left with the always-entertaining gravel roads for the next few hours as we headed north through Woods Landing and Albas to Seymour Arm at the very tip of the northwest arm of the lake. Villages are few and far apart in these remote wilderness regions.
Many times along the way, Mark would lead us down various forest service roads to beautiful pristine lakes seemingly in the middle of nowhere, or to discreet waterfalls that we had to park and walk through the old-growth forest to access. I bet only a handful of people have ever seen some of these special places, but Mark has done an extensive amount of exploring in these parts; he’s an excellent guide and knows the area well.
And his knowledge is uber-important. Once we left the pavement behind, we passed hundreds of logging roads darting off in every direction; each one could get a regular rider lost in an instant. Riding alone is not recommended as there is no cell service, and you’re a long way from anything or anyone, including help. It’s important to note that Mark and the sweep rider were in communication with each other, and with any logging trucks in the area.
Seymour Arm is the Shuswap Lake’s most remote community. Solar panels and the hum of generators is ever-present as the town is so remote that the power grid doesn’t reach it. Now a ghost town, it once was home to approximately 5,000 residents during the Big Bend Gold Rush of the late-1860s.
Mark had arranged for some home cooking at Smurf’s Country Kitchen. The owner is a lovely lady nicknamed … wait for it … Smurf, and she prepared a perfect lunch with fresh homemade lemonade. Smurf and her restaurant are real treasures in Seymour Arm.
The rest of the day was even more isolated than getting to Seymour Arm. After Seymour Arm there are a few wilderness Provincial recreation parks shown on the map, but there are no villages on the eastern side of the lake.
At one point, somewhere in our ride, our most technical “road” was traversing switchbacks on a very steep, skinny roadbed carved into the side of a mountain. The elevation at the top was 1,240 metres and the view was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I was mesmerized looking out over an enormous green valley with strings of logging roads like veins on a leaf far below and off into infinity. The view was akin to what you see when flying over the B.C. wilderness. We were level with other mountain tops, including the Bourne Glacier far off to our left. Sometimes I’m simply amazed at the remote places a 250 kg ADV bike can go. It’s scenes like this that reminds me that B.C. is dual-sport heaven.
The loose rocks that composed the path going up to the summit made going down somewhat difficult, and our speed had to be kept in check as my wheels would easily lock up, making it challenging to slow down enough for the next switchback. It was an exhilarating ride.
After 10 hours on the bike, we made our way to Sicamous. The temperature in the heat of the day was around 30 C, and the extreme dust and technical riding made the highway a welcome reprieve. Most of us parted ways in Sicamous and it was only an easy hour ride home for me.
You can bet that I won’t soon forget my first adventure ride in B.C. and hope for many more to come in the coming year.
For more information on Dreamcycle Museum or Canadian Motorcycle Adventure Tours, go to dreamcycle.ca and cmatours.ca.
RIDING WITH CANADIAN MOTORCYCLE ADVENTURE TOURS
STORY BY EMILY ROBERTS
I had first met Mark Lane from Dreamcycle Museum a few years ago when I wandered in to take a look at the rarities that he had on display. I was ecstatic to hear of his tour company, Canadian Motorcycle Adventure Tours, offering locally guided tours around the area and Western Canada. With my parents now living close by, the idea of getting out for a ride with my dad was much more logistically feasible, and we decided it was time to see the area with a guide.
Glenn and I were heading out with Lane and a few friends. Our goal was to get to Seymour Arm (originally known as Ogden City), a remote town at the north end of the Shuswap Lake, famous for being one of the only towns in British Columbia to turn into a ghost town twice.
Tarmac turned to gravel. In the beginning, each corner led through a climbing switchback with expected views shrouded by mature trees, though we reached more open and logged sections, each corner offering up a taste of the mountainous vista that lay beyond. I’ve lived in the Interior of British Columbia for almost 15 years now, and I’ve learned that there’s no shortage of logging roads creeping into the backcountry and the vast wilderness that consumes this province.
Although Seymour Arm had been of interest to visit, it had always eluded me. Every time passing by the turn-off for the town seemingly placed in the middle of nowhere because I had always been on a time constraint. Now, it was part of our itinerary.
Seymour Arm, once known as Ogden City, was a booming town in the 1860s, but was destroyed by fire in the latter part of the decade. Then, around 1910, developers came and rebuilt the town, giving it its current name. After a few years of revival, the town became dormant again. One building that still stands in its glory from the 20th-century revival is the Seymour Arm Hotel, built in 1910 and heavily restored in the 1960s. The hotel was functional for many years, but currently sits as a historic memento from the village’s past.
After a great lunch at Smurf’s Country Kitchen, it was time to ride again. As we rode along the eastern side of Shuswap Lake, my fuel light on my BMW F900 GS came on; we had extra fuel with us, but having never tested it, I was curious to see just how long I could make it before running out.
We wrapped around mountainsides and through cut blocks busy with spring growth. I realized how much of a tourist I felt like in my own province. I had been down a couple of these roads before, but this was different. I had never noticed the incredible roadside stops that Lane and his guides led us to, had never gotten such a local taste of Seymour Arm, and had never seen such a view of the lake until now!
Lane led us up a steep trail not meant for his clients, but with the promise that it would be worth it. He certainly was not wrong. A thin haze hung before the perfectly blue sky, underneath a mirroring blue of water with snow-capped peaks breaking the horizon of lake and sky. We sat in astonishment for a long moment before realizing we had little sunlight and a lot of riding left.
We slowly descended into a sheltered valley where we were met with patches of snow on the roadside. Being that it was an incredibly warm day, we decided it would be best for an impromptu snowball fight before heading back to the highway.
I became increasingly impressed with my GS’s mileage after the fuel light showed: it had been about 74 km since the fuel light first appeared when I rolled into a Sicamous gas station on fumes. One problem: The gas station was closed, and my bike coughed and puttered as I rolled into the parking lot. We pulled out the additional fuel we had brought so I could make the additional .5 km to the next gas station. Aside from my bike running out of fuel, it was a perfect day. Getting to ride with Canadian Motorcycle Adventure Tours was a must, even for a local. And getting to ride with my dad made every moment exceptional.
Ride #2
HORIZONS UD CANWEST TRAVELLERS MEETING
STORY BY GLENN ROBERTS
Horizons Unlimited Travellers Meetings are a standard meet-up for motorcycle travellers around the world. For those unaware, Horizons Unlimited is the de facto world traveller’s website for information, border crossings, travel alerts, and any kind of general travel information you may need during your ride, regardless of your location or length of time on the road. At one time, someone somewhere has experienced what you want to know.
Each year there are a dozen or more travellers’ meetings somewhere in the world. And it’s only fitting that since Grant and Susan Johnson, the founders of Horizons Unlimited, live in B.C., there is always a Canwest
Travellers Meeting, and for the past several years it has been held in Nakusp, on the east side of Upper Arrow Lake. And it just so happens that the 2026 meeting is HU’s 25th anniversary of Travellers Meetings.
While the riders’ meeting isn’t necessarily designed to be a “riding” weekend, there certainly are beautiful areas in the Selkirk and Monashee Mountains to get out to for all types of excursions. The HU meeting is more designed to be a weekend of information-gathering from over 70 demonstrations, talks, workshops and riding challenges.
These seminars included guidance on preparing, packing and planning your journey; travelling in other countries; proven equipment that works; motorcycle training; first-aid; navigation; photography and so much more. You don’t need to be a world traveller to learn new tricks that will make your next weekend ride more enjoyable.
In true British Columbia fashion, this gathering of like-minded motorcyclists is as laid-back as a weekend could be. HU reserves the whole campground, so you are not designated to a certain spot — if your tent fits, you can pitch it. It’s a great way to meet new friends and catch up with old acquaintances, and you’re always welcome to enjoy a beverage or two beside someone’s fire pit.
The seminars are equally laid-back, and since many of them overlap, you can come go as you please. Missing one because it overlaps with another isn’t a concern, since many of them run again over the weekend. Food is available if you buy into that package.
Overall, it was an extremely well-run weekend and I have to give paise to Grant and Susan and all of the volunteers who made it happen. If my schedule permits, I will be returning for the 2026 Canwest Travellers
Meeting, which will take place once again in Nakusp on July 9-12. For more information, go to horizonsunlimited.com. Registration is now open, and early bird specials are available.
NEW AND FAMILIAR FACES
STORY BY EMILY ROBERTS
Horizons Unlimited holds gatherings around the world throughout the year, focusing on bringing riders together to share stories and connections. Each event offers numerous activities, rides, and presentations to take in. I was ecstatic when Glenn mentioned that he would like to attend last year. It had been about seven years since I had attended. In the past, I had presented at the conference, but was more than happy this year to take it all in.
When Glenn and I arrived, we quickly saw a few familiar faces, letting us know we were in the right place. By midday, the campground was almost all filled with travellers coming from across Canada and the U.S. We found a few flat patches of ground that hadn’t been claimed and proceeded to set up camp. Soon after, we got registered, found the schedule, and quickly looked over of all the talks we wanted to catch.
The great thing about attending an HU conference is that it really is a “choose-your-own-experience” event. There, we met riders who were just planning to ride the area for the weekend, taking in the suggested routes from HU. We also met many who didn’t ride to the event but just wanted to camp and take in the presentations and atmosphere.
We saw many new and familiar faces over an afternoon of presentations, passing by on their way to the next event or seminar they were hoping to attend. It wasn’t until dinner, when everyone piled into the hall, that I realized just how many people were in attendance. With over 300 riders, there was no shortage of stories to share and opportunities to make new friends.
The next day, I spent the morning catching some presentations, and was about to head to another when I spotted a friend running past, yelling about a skills contest happening. Oh, of course I’m into that. I grabbed my bike and rode over to the skills area, where they had put participants through a training course in the morning and were now partaking in a light-hearted competition with all the riders. It was a blast: we cheered on each rider as they went one by one through the skills course, through tight turns, performing brake slides, a slow race section, a sand section, and an optional single-track section to really test each riders’ skills.
Throughout the event, we were able to meet riders from around the world and hear people’s experiences about travelling on trips big and small. This is where like-minded riders seem to convene. There’s never a dull moment at a Horizons Unlimited event. Regardless of whether you’re new to riding, travelling, or a seasoned adventurer, you can be sure to walk away from a Horizons
Unlimited meet with a new sense of inspiration, newfound knowledge and at least a handful of new friends.
Ride #3
Wandr Navigation Rally
STORY BY GLENN ROBERTS
One week after the HU event was the Adventure Moto Navigation event called WANDR. Trent Schumann is the brainchild behind this rally, which was open for registration starting on Thursday with the riders’ meeting Friday evening, and then the navigation fun begins on Saturday and runs through Sunday. Rally headquarters is at Canal Flats at the southern end of the Columbia Lake, 45 minutes south of Radium Hot Springs.
There are two ways to participate in the rally. You can register for the “Ultimate Ride,” which is competitive in that you collect points for the found tags and hope to win a trophy and bragging rights, or there is the non-competitive “Adventure Ride,” which means you are there for the riding experience, the outstanding scenery, and the challenging trails. If the HU meeting is laid-back, WANDR is the opposite. Everybody was having fun, but some of the riding was intense. The trails are rated: the higher the number, the harder the ride is and the more points are collected. It’s your choice.
The Friday night riders meeting saw attendees panicking and running out of the community centre to rescue their tents and tarps as a wicked windstorm rolled through with an equally wicked downpour. I heard riders lament of wet sleeping bags and bent tent poles afterward.
The WANDR rally operates through a dedicated smartphone app that pinpoints a number of unique tags, or waypoints, on a variety of trails in any direction. Riders are given a rudimentary map in order to get to a certain area, but the beauty of the app is that, when in the vicinity of a tag — which could be glued to a rock or nailed to a tree — the app tells you a direction by way of an arrow, a distance, and a photo of the tag. When you get to the location the photo will visually help you find the tag. The challenge comes when you have a direction and a distance, but there may be a lake, or a river, or a mountain in the way, and you have to figure out how to get to the tag.
It’s great fun; however, there were many riders who struggled with getting the app to work properly. I was one of them. After three attempts to download it, it eventually worked. Emily’s phone worked from the start, but I thought it prudent mine should work as well as a backup.
This rally is a combination of navigation, adventure riding, and exploration. Saturday was a blast. The temperature was perfect and the sun shone the whole day, although there were some slick clay sections and mud holes to deal with from the previous night’s storm. There is a plethora of trails through this area of the Rocky Mountains and the Columbia Valley. The scenery was simply amazing — we’re traversing tall mountains to river valleys, after all.
Every time we stopped, we’d meet up with other happy, smiling riders exuberant about their day’s ride. Dinner was included in the price of admission, and the rest of the evening was spent talking to other riders over a beverage or two about the fun, and the trials and tribulations they encountered throughout the day.
Sunday was most memorable, as we woke early morning to some serious monsoon-type rains. Once again, there were grumblings of wet sleeping bags from shivering, tired riders. Mud and large puddles fill the campground’s grassy field.
Most of the 150-ish riders registered for WANDR were riding small- to mid-size single-cylinder dual-sport bikes. They were the smart ones. I was one the few who was on a big ADV bike, but I was doing okay. I figure 95 per cent of my weekend’s riding on my R1250 GS was great, and I thought my tires were good … until they weren’t.
On Sunday morning, we realized we were heading away from the tags we wanted. A quick glance at a map showed a trail to the area we wanted to go — let’s call it a “shortcut.” Shortcuts are rarely good, and this one was just plain bad. At least for me it was, on rubber that, all of a sudden, wasn’t so good on a 250 kg behemoth of a bike.
After few hundred metres on the shortcut, we happened upon a blind left turn straight up a steep hill on loose shards of shale. A slight twist of the throttle broke my rear tire loose and I instantly went down. The rest of the long, never-ending hill comprised wet roots, clay, slippery rocks, steep hills with more loose shale, and very slippery single-track with a drop off on one side and a wall of mountain on the other. It really challenged me. Needless to say, we didn’t see another rider on that “shortcut.” Emily saved my day by taking the GS up to the next little plateau a couple times before the mayhem started all over again. I was out of my league. I considered myself a pretty decent rider on a big ADV bike, but this was a humbling experience. It seemed to be one of those “It took three hours to go one kilometre” stories.
The whole weekend was good fun. WANDR wrapped up after dinner on Sunday evening with tables of door prizes and awards. I have since bought a smaller dual-sport bike for times like this, and I have the 2026 WANDR rally, which runs from July 16-19, 2026, already marked on my calendar. Registration is now open, and like most events, there are early bird specials. Go to yugenex.com/wandr for more information. MM
NAVIGATION GONE BAD
STORY BY EMILY ROBERTS
I remember the first time I rode the WANDR rally, I was instantly enthralled with the navigation aspects and treasure hunt-type fun that was created through the event. Glenn and I had decided to ride it together for 2025.
The concept is quite simple at a WANDR event: you download the app, which lists numerous waypoints varying in difficulty to ride to, and get the points, totalling to your score at the end of the event. Along with the WANDR app, you are given a broad satellite overview of the riding area, with the waypoint numbers listed, so you can look at the proximity of the waypoints in any given area. You are also given a Backroads Mapbook map and a 30-day trial to their smartphone app for the event, which gives a detailed overview of that area’s roads and trails. With these four pieces of information, you have to triangulate your location and attempt to get as many waypoints as possible before the end of each day.
Throughout Friday night, we had gotten heavy rains and winds, adding to the challenge. The event is held in Canal Flats, B.C., and allows for an immense and very scenic area of the southern Rockies to be covered by bike. We spent
Saturday riding on tight roads and logging roads that seemed to endlessly meander through the upswept mountains.
After the first day, we were very happy with the ride. I was lucky enough to ride the Kove 800X Rally for the event; it’s rare that I ever get on such an intuitive adventure bike with a low seat height.
On the second day, we found a new team member, Shane; his teammate had to leave early, leaving him without a riding partner. It was my turn to lead, and in typical “Emily” fashion, I was quick to find the wrong way. After a long, roundabout way to the riding area, I had spotted an ATV trail that seemingly led through to the road we needed to get on. The map had shown this as a road, but it was clear once we got on the trail that it would be a test of man and machine. Of course, every shortcut does not always cut down time, and unfortunately, this one added another three hours to our day without a waypoint. We left our camp around 9 a.m., and at 1 p.m., we were still without any points for the day.
There was a steep hill, littered with loose shale. I pointed the 800X, and up it went. I was impressed with the effortless feel of it. I had gotten to the top of a drawn-out hill, then Glenn went and soon found the tipping point of his 1250 GS. He had given it a few more attempts but was tiring of the technical terrain.
We had finally gotten all three bikes out and decided that, even though we only had a few hours left in our ride, we would try to make it worthwhile by catching some waypoints before ending our day. When we arrived back at camp, finally, the joyful exhaustion overtook us. We had worked so hard throughout the day just to get through the trails I had accidentally put us on.
That didn’t matter, though: we worked together and rode terrain that we didn’t think we could do. We proved ourselves wrong and gave our bikes one hell of a ride, not to mention we ended up placing second (out of two teams) in the Multi-Cylinder category.
Even though it was a tough day, it was incredibly rewarding to push big bikes through the bush and meet other amazing riders at the same time.
An historic part of Ontario that features some of the best riding roads in the province.
After each annual motorcycle adventure, my friends and I discuss next year’s ride route. Together we have explored the back roads of Alaska, James Bay, the St. Lawrence River, the Adirondacks and Northern Ontario. After our trip to Manitoulin Island and looping north of Lake Superior, we decided the next trip would be south, to the area on and around the Blue Ridge Parkway.
However, things got strange south of the border, health insurance was becoming problematic, and it was the consensus that we stay closer to home. I suggested that this would be a chance to show my friends a few of my favourite roads (apologies to the late Max Burns), showcasing rides that have thrilled me for decades.
My “Highlands” ride always begins in the Frontenac Arch, an ancient ridge of granite and gneiss that forms a geological bridge between the Canadian Shield and the Adirondack Mountains in New York. The region has been designated by UNESCO as one of Canada’s important Biosphere Regions. From there, I typically head north, trying to stay within the Precambrian wilderness of the Canadian Shield south of the Ottawa River.
The area encompasses adjoining highlands of Frontenac, Renfrew, Lanark, Hastings and Haliburton counties and includes the Madawaska, Mississippi and Opeongo River valleys. The ride traverses historic pioneer roads running through stark granite outcroppings and worn-down ancient mountains covered with thick forest while skirting hundreds of sparkling blue lakes. It was a land populated by homesteaders and countless small villages built on forestry, mining and farming. But the lumber has been cut; the mines, played out; and the farms were, at best, subsistence, leaving the remaining inhabitants turning to a new industry for support. It is now a land calling to adventurers of all stripes — campers, fishermen, hunters, ATV/RTVers, and snowmobilers — while its roads and trails seem to have been built for motorcyclists.
These Highlands have become well-known as a mecca for two-wheeled adventurers. During the decades I have ridden these roads, I have met up with hundreds of fellow riders exploring this part of Canada. For those who have never experienced the Highlands, it is something to consider; for those who have been there (some I suspect many times), it might be time to go back. Maybe try riding a few of my favourite roads.
The plan was for five riders to meet at my Lake Cabin. However, Bobbie had to bail out because of serious health issues. Jim’s creaky hips and knees made him turn in his high riding Versys 1000 for a new Suzuki 400 Burgman, while John and I, both currently undergoing cancer therapy, arrived on our almost matching 2015 Suzuki 650 V…
A few tech tips that can only come from experience.
Winter arrived early in eastern Canada this year, which means I’ve been spending more time in my workshop. My Kawasaki KLR650 got a major service, including taking the top end off to inspect the valve train and cylinder. What I found was an engine that looks like new, even with 60,000-plus kilometres on the clock. I suspected everything would be fine, as it did not use a drop of oil between oil changes. However, I did replace the cam chain, which on the KLR can be done without splitting the crankcase. The engine had a light rattle while running, and I saw from the timing marks on the cam that it had stretched a bit. Replacing the chain eliminated the rattle, and it put the cam timing where it should be, which — on the workbench at least — improved throttle response.
With the KLR buttoned up, I needed another distraction; it was time to find another project. But instead of consulting my usual source of used bikes, I called up my friend Rob and asked if he would like to sell a Honda ST90 minibike he’d bought from another friend of mine several years ago. I knew the bike, as I had given it a once-over before Rob picked it up. Luckily for me, Rob didn’t ride the bike much, and he already had a number of projects that needed tending to, so he agreed to part with it. So, after a long drive to his place just outside of Wiarton, Ont., home of the groundhog that thinks it can predict weather better than Environment Canada, I drove back with the ST90 in the back of my pickup. My plan is to give it a complete mechanical restoration, including opening up the engine.
Working on both bikes, I encountered a couple of challenges that required me to resort to some old tricks. Many of the threaded holes in the aluminum castings were dirty enough that some of the bolts almost snapped when unscrewing them. Heat and nut loosener are your friends in this situation. But you also need patience: one-quarter turn in, a half turn out on the affected bolt. If the bolt feels like it is twisting even with less than a half turn out, apply more heat and move it in and out a quarter turn until it frees up, then resort to the quarter in, half turn out routine.
It is imperative to take your time, because if you snap a bolt that is tight in its threads, there’s no extractor that will remove it; you will have to drill it out and rethread the hole. Once the bolt is out, refrain from using a tap to clean the threads, as it will remove material, which will weaken the threads and loosen the fit with the bolt.
Instead, cut some grooves across the threads of a sacrificial bolt (keep it for future use) with a small triangular file, and use it to clean the threads. The spark plug hole in the ST90 was particularly stubborn; it took about five minutes just to remove the spark plug without damaging the threads. While it’s tempting to use an impact wrench to remove stubborn plugs, doing so can lead to disaster, since aluminum has a tendency to weld itself to the steel threads if you force the plug out, which will destroy the threads and require head surgery. I cut grooves into an old spark plug and used it to clean the threads.
Another note about spark plugs is to avoid using anti-seize compound on the threads. I used to do this, but then I found this on the NGK website: “NGK spark plugs feature trivalent plating. This silver or chrome-coloured finish on the threads is designed to provide corrosion resistance against moisture and chemicals. The coating also acts as a release agent during spark plug removal. NGK spark plugs are installed at the factory dry, without lubrication or anti-seize.” The torque recommendations given by all spark plug manufacturers are with dry threads; torquing with lubed threads will actually lead to a higher torque and can possibly pull the threads.
Another thing I had to do was to pull out some dowel pins, to either clean the gasket surface properly, or in the case of the KLR, to resurface the cylinder head. There are specialized dowel-pin extractors you can buy, but I have a simpler trick — and it is NOT using locking pliers. You can instead use a tap — the first size that will fit into the dowel — and cut light threads into it. Then use the locking pliers on the tap to hammer it out. The dowel can be reused even though it is partially threaded.
Winter is still going strong outside, but these projects make it bearable until I can actually ride again.
Sometimes the reason for an extended road trip could be as simple as aiming your front wheel toward a town name.
Last summer, I had an idea. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t my idea. A billboard outside my building proclaimed, “visit Houston, B.C..” Another further up the road suggested going to Miami. But not the one in Florida. It was Petro-Canada’s advertising campaign aligning with the sentiment to support everything Canadian. For me, it sounded like a great excuse to explore the country I live in. I put the kettle on and spread the maps across the kitchen table. Houston is much further north in B.C. than I had ever been, and Miami is all the way over in Manitoba!
As if the universe had heard of my ambitious plans, the offer to test ride a Honda NT1100 arrived in my inbox. This tourer is made for such a journey! With an engine four times as powerful, it is much taller and heavier than the little NX250 I’m used to, and I could barely get my tippy toes on the ground. The dual clutch transmission (DCT) essentially makes the bike an automatic, and with no clutch lever or pedal, all control lies in the use of throttle and brake. Yikes! What had I signed up for?
VISITING DUPLICATE TOWN NAMES
Taking the NT for a tentative test spin in the parking lot, I got used to it surprisingly quickly. Despite its size, it was easy to manoeuvre, and the controls became intuitive quickly, even if my left fingers kept searching for a clutch that wasn’t there. Persuaded that this was doable, I rolled out into the city traffic.
If we’re looking for places with names that exist on both sides of the border, I was already in one. There is also a Vancouver, WA. Both cities were named after Captain George Vancouver, who explored this part of the Pacific coast. To honour Vancouver, I went for a spin through historic Gastown and made a quick stop by our famous steam clock.
Vancouver’s neighbours Richmond and Abbotsford also have name twins in the U.S.A., in Virginia and Wisconsin, respectively. Since they are so close to home, I’d been to them plenty of times before, but I dutifully rode through, so I could add them to the list. And because it led me to “0 Avenue,” which was the closest to the United States I could get without actually crossing.
On this side, houses lined the street, proudly flying the Canadian flag. What few houses there were on the U.S. side, flew the Stars and Stripes. There is no fence. Small, regularly spaced posts mark the…
All motorcyclists have a passion for riding on two wheels in common; having the unlimited quiet time in the helmet is a bonus. I’ve always been an introverted person; simply stated, being around people drains my mental energy. You can imagine how rewarding motorcycling becomes for an introvert. We not only get to experience one of the most thrilling sports and get to see incredible parts of the world while feeling the wind on our face whenever we ride, but we also get alone time, even if we’re with others. It becomes the perfect sport for us anti-social types: we can still live a social life while getting breaks from socializing when the helmet is on.
At 18, I did a three-month trip from Ontario up to Alaska and back, only having my father riding with me for a week of the trip. The remainder of the time, I rode alone. I made some friends along the way, but I always felt like the lonely road offered some sort of cold comfort that I craved. I became a wanderer. Alone, but not lonesome. The idea of becoming a travelling ghost, one that would merely observe as it passed through each town, became a feeling I lusted for.
Over the years, work took hold. And turns out we can’t be on the road indefinitely. I settled down, began staying in one place for longer than a moment, and found community, both within motorcycling and in everyday life. Then, a couple of years ago, I moved away from Revelstoke, B.C. I didn’t move far away but soon found that it was much harder to maintain the small social circle I had. I didn’t reach out to new riding groups, living with the assumption that there just aren’t any riders in my area. I returned to my shell.
To be clear, I do like talking about bikes, and I never seem to tire of that. But being around people for days on end tends to be exhausting. I’ve found that, throughout the years of going to bike shows and events, it’s easiest to create a social light switch in my brain. When I must be social, I turn my switch on, bring out a persona — a version of myself — who doesn’t get tired from socializing. Then, once the day is done, I can turn my switch off and re-energize for the following day.
I realized this year at the Vancouver Motorcycle Show how important it is to keep your community of riders strong. I met a few new-to-me riders in an area I didn’t have any idea about. All I had to do was join a local riding group’s Facebook page to find new people in the bike community. I thought back to the many times last summer when I wanted to ride my adventure bike but didn’t have anyone to go with. So I decided to make a social effort this year.
There are so many great events, small and large, across Canada catered to a variety of riding styles; if you’re similar to me, take the time to find an event you’re interested in and make the effort to grow your community. The WANDR Rally is a great option for any dirt-oriented riders, The Adventure Bike Gathering is a pick-your-own-ride with different route options for a variety of large or small bikes throughout the weekend. Same with the Triple-Clamp Rally, and RallyConnex in eastern Canada.
One event, which I hope to join in this year is the Get Lost Find Yourself campout. Critter, the organizer, has become an important advocate for men’s mental health, understanding through experience how challenging it can be to feel good about yourself. The Horizons Unlimited meets are great for riders looking to learn more about travelling.
There are numerous events held across the country throughout the year; I’ve just mentioned a very few. If you can’t find an event that speaks to you, maybe you pick a cause to ride for — there is no shortage of charity rides and groups to help others that work toward a greater cause.
Whether you’re an introvert or an extrovert, take the time to find community or strengthen the one you already have. These are the people you can count on to ride with and bond with without being forced to talk all the time. I had forgotten how important this was until my community began to dwindle. If you find you’re in a similar position, this is your call. Reach out to new people, try to attend an event, and turn your social switch on; you won’t regret it, who knows, you might even make a new friend.
I’ve been obsessing a little over helmets as of late. I’m concurrently testing three, and researching about a dozen more, so it’s become a preoccupation that, true to my unfettered ADHD, has me scouring the internet like a 13-year-old girl looking for the latest Bad Bunny song drop.
What’s obvious after spending enough hours online to warrant an intervention from my wife — “You’ve got three helmets already; step away from Fortnine!” — is that the future of motorcycle helmets has little to do with physical injury protection and much more to do with digital accident prevention. Oh, we have the new ECE 22.06 safety standard (which does improve protection and retention systems), Multi-directional Impact Protection Systems (MIPS) and a few years back, a company called 6D put out a really revolutionary six-dimensional internal damper that promised to very much reduce rotational brain injuries. But other than the introduction of flip-back helmets — basically a modular helmet in which the chin piece rotates all the way to the back of the helmet — motorcycle brain buckets haven’t been breaking very many technological barriers these days.
At least in the physical realm.
On the digital front, however, things have really exploded, with helmets now connecting and entertaining us in ways that seemed unimaginable just a decade ago. Back when the Schuberth’s E1 was new, listening to music while riding meant finding a set of wired earbuds small enough that they didn’t bore holes into your ear canal once you pulled your helmet on. A little while later, we graduated to wireless earbuds, thinking the demise of the wire was a technological advancement beyond compare.
Then, of course, came sound systems retrofitted into helmets adding connectivity — real-time navigation instructions and cell calls — to huge 45-millimetre speakers blaring out Paloma Faith at unconscionable levels. Surely, thought we — maybe that was just I — that would be the be-all-and-end-all of helmet connectivity.
Instead, it seems we’re just getting started. A few years ago, Schuberth’s C5 were the first mass-produced helmets with speakers built-in by default. Now, many of the major helmet-makers offer a pre-installed communications system. Trying to maintain its market leadership, Schuberth is doubling down, this year announcing the release of a noise-
cancelling version of the now-venerable C5 with bigger, 53-mm speakers, built-in ear muffs and a complete computer and microphone system that quantifies the sound of the wind rushing past your ears, cancels it and then replaces it even more decibels of Can’t Rely on You. If Schuberth’s claims of a 10-decibel drop in wind noise — which equates to roughly 10 times less sound energy — the darned thing is going to be a lifeline to all of us with motorcycling-induced tinnitus.
But that’s just the tip of the iceberg to what start-up helmet makers and communication systems designers are trying to stuff into your skid lid.
For instance, Intelligent Cranium is building helmets with dual rear-facing cameras built into its spoiler that provide a 240-degree image of everything that’s behind you while riding that alerts the rider of impending doom should they try to change lanes inappropriately. Throw in automatic crash notifications service and IC seems to be as much in the business of preventing crashes and/or notifying the authorities when one happens as it is in preventing injury when noggin hits tarmac.
Meanwhile, industry giant Shoei is working with a French company called EyeLights to produce the GT-Air 3 Smart with an augmented reality Head-Up display. According to the manufacturer, everything from turn-by-turn navigational instructions and who’s calling you is projected into your field of vision about three metres in front of you. And, because the projection comes via a nano-OLED display, it’s all supposed to work in the face of direct sunlight.
Meanwhile, a company called Forcite is building an MK1S that does the noise-cancelling thing, builds a 1080p camera into the front chin piece, alerts you about traffic ahead, sniffs out cop cars and still gives you turn-by-turn navigations advice while projecting all ahead with an HUD display. Just the ability to sniff out speed traps — via Waze-like community-driven data — might make me a believer.Throw in helmets in — or near — production with built-in stoplights and/or turn signals as well as others with LEDs that make the rider more visible at night for even more safety advancements. That said, some of this stuff sounds like a distraction too far. It’s one thing to have tunes blaring and even the occasional “Where are you?” call from work. But what happens if it’s accompanied by visual navigation cues, the occasional blared warning of a Winnebago creeping dangerously close to your left hindquarter, and the always panic-inducing speed trap alert? Could all the supposed safety benefits of not having to shift your eyes away from the road ahead be undone by information overload? We live in an increasingly connected world; I’m not sure that’s a good thing while riding a high-powered motorcycle.
Riding the less travelled paths created by pioneers, settlers and homesteaders.
“We can’t go through here,” I told my riding partner Glen — although that technically wasn’t true. If we’d really wanted to, we probably could have found somewhere to ford the Northeast Margaree River, which stretched in front of us, cutting the trail, swollen from the previous night’s rain. But on the first full day of our Cape Breton backcountry discovery mission, I didn’t feel like getting into a soaking mess. We looked for a route that was safer than the trail I’d taken on my last time through here, 11 years earlier.
We soon found a gravel road with the luxury of a bridge over the river, which we took instead of riding over an unsure, slippery bottom. Did we wimp out? Perhaps, but we were here to explore, not to go swimming, and the fun was just getting started.
Technically, the fun had started the day before, when we’d pulled into the Silver Dart Lodge in Baddeck, NS. This strategically located resort wasn’t particularly close to most of the areas we’d be riding, but its central placement on the island meant it wasn’t far away, either. Good enough!
We’d unloaded our gear into the room and rolled the bikes off the truck; a brand-new Honda CRF300L I was testing and my old Yamaha WR250R, which Glen was borrowing because his Katoom was down for maintenance. Not the usual machines of choice for riders up here to strafe the Cabot Trail, but that wasn’t our intention. Our goal was to see what lay beyond, with a heavy emphasis on dual-sport riding.
TIME TO EXPLORE
That first evening, we’d ridden the Highland Road north from Hunters Mountain to its Wreck Cove entry point onto the Cabot Trail; nothing challenging, except for rain that surprised us — the only rain we rode in all summer, in this season of drought, and the rain that had caused the rising river that initially blocked our route the next day.
So far, my plan to retrace my long-ago dual-sport tracks in the Highlands, the mountainous region in the centre of the island’s western section, was off to a bad start. The last time I’d come through this section, the weather had been similarly soggy, and it had been challenging; but this time, I was able to ride much more confidently, with a riding partner behind me if things got sticky.
Never underestimate the power of positive thinking, and the confidence that comes from knowing you have…
There’s more to rally racing than just avoiding cacti, rocks, sand, ruts and a host of other dangers that lurk around every corner and over every hill.
I remember it clearly. I was riding along the two-track road, which comprised a mix of sand, rock and riverbed. I had done it! I was about to finish the first stage of the Baja Rally. I rode well, and I didn’t crash at all. I had gotten lost a few times but found my way through the vast desert to reach the day’s finish. I was thinking about how proud of myself I should be. I was riding really well. Then things went sideways — literally.
I was just on the bike, and then I was flying, slow motion, thoughts speeding through my mind, my life flashing before me. Every choice I had made on my journey of getting there ran through my head, along with many choice curse words simultaneously.
If I think of the starting point for my desire to rally race, it would’ve been back as a child watching the Dakar Rally for the first time. I even wrote a few speeches about the Dakar in grade school. I know the Dakar is a pipe dream; many ponder how possible it would be, but few ever get there.
Fast riding and long days while racing and navigating on your own tests not only your riding ability but also the ability to problem solve, and the fine line to balance is racing while keeping yourself and your bike in shape for the duration of the race. I wasn’t sure how rally racing could even be possible; the niche type of motorcycle racing isn’t overly publicized, so it can be hard to find a clear path as a new rider in the sport.
SETTING THE HOOK
In 2024, I went up to the Boreal Royale held in Fort McMurray. The Ride North Moto crew holds the annual event and had invited Willem Avenant and Lawrence Hacking (two Dakar Rally alumni) to attend, with Avenant offering an intro to roadbook reading.
I was immediately hooked on the idea of navigation while riding fast, since it offered an added level of challenge while riding. Not to mention the idea that, if you don’t follow the roadbook, you won’t get to your destination. You have no idea where the route leads you, and where you will end up, so the main goal is to not get lost in an unknown place.
During the course, I used one of Avenant’s electronic roadbooks and borrowed a friend’s bike. I found the electronic roadbook to be very intuitive and easy to use. The screen is like a Kindle, so you don’t have the glare while riding in the midday sun. I had gotten my first taste of what a rally would be like, and I was hooked.
I had decided on a whim to enter the Baja Rally, knowing nothing about the sport, but with the thought that I’d shift…
A pair of British cruisers with unique attributes and distinctly different characters.
Bobbers were initially conceived in the mid-20th century. They were originally stripped-to-bare-bones hard-tail bikes, with shortened (read: bobbed) fenders, a low-rise handlebar and a solo saddle. The original Triumph Bonneville Bobber was launched 10 years ago and exhibited many of these styling cues. While several manufacturers have made modern variations of the bobber, what really set the Triumph apart was its floating solo seat, and its blackout treatment and complete absence of chrome, the latter two being attributes that I find very appealing.
Triumph also did a great job of giving the bike a minimalist look, without visible wires and cables. While Triumph wasn’t the first to produce a bike with hidden rear suspension and a triangulated swingarm to emulate a hard tail (Harley gets those bragging rights with the Softail), it nonetheless executed the look exceptionally well, especially with the Bobber’s floating seat and tire-hugging rear fender. It remains the one factory custom I believe truly merits the Bobber name.
Based on the same platform as the Bobber is the Bonneville Speedmaster. The Speedmaster name has been around much longer than the Bobber (it was launched in 2003), but this latest generation was launched a year after the Bobber.
Although it shares its engine, chassis and wheel sizes with its sibling, it has a more conventional cruiser-like, foot-forward riding position with a dual seat, and a wide, pullback handlebar. Its suspension is tuned for a more comfortable ride with a passenger (no provisions for a pillion on the Bobber, sorry), and it has much more chrome and polished aluminum. Its laid-back styling is more in the tradition of an American cruiser — minus the presence of a V-twin engine.
Both big Bonnies have been updated for 2026, and we got a chance to ride each in the hills and canyons of Southern California.
THE SIMILARITIES AND THE NEW STUFF
At the heart of both bikes is Triumph’s liquid-cooled, 1200 cc High-Torque parallel twin. It has a 270-degree crankpin arrangement that gives it a cruiser-appropriate V-twin-like firing order, while providing a broader spread of torque compared to a 180-degree crank. Being pressed into cruiser duty, the engine is tuned for bottom-end torque rather than top-end pulling power, claiming 77 horsepower and 78 lb.-ft. of torque. While the same basic engine produces 103 hp and
83 lb.-ft. in the Speed Twin 1200, the torque curve climbs steeper at lower revs in the cruisers, with more than 70 lb.-ft. of torque available from about 2,800 rpm to just over 5,000 rpm, making it feel quite powerful when rowing through the gears from a stop. The engine mates to a six-speed gearbox through a mechanically assisted slipper clutch.
Both bikes get a six-axis IMU for 2026, which enables lean-sensitive ABS and traction control. They also get LED headlights, and they now have USB-C ports mounted conveniently on the left side of the instrument panel. As before, they have two ride modes (Rain and Road) and single-button cruise control. Aluminum rims replace the steel items of the previous models (the Bobber’s are black), which is said to improve handling. The seats on these custom Bonnevilles are markedly different: each has been widened and reshaped to improve comfort. The Speedmaster has a straighter handlebar than before for a more neutral riding position. A new fuel tank bumps capacity to 14-litres from 12 on both machines; while the Speedmaster always had a 12-litre fuel tank, early Bobbers carried a paltry nine litres before they were bumped to 12. In any case, more fuel is a good thing. Both bikes get restyled side covers and the…
Motovan Inc. has announced it will be the exclusive Canadian distributor of MACNA heated apparel. Touted as Europe’s most innovative heated motorcycle apparel company, MACNA combines cutting-edge textile engineering and rider functionality.
“MACNA has built a strong reputation worldwide for technical innovation and real-world rider comfort,” said James Paladino, President Motovan Inc. “Their heated apparel line is a natural fit for Canadian riders who demand high performance in extreme conditions. We’re excited to bring this product category to our dealer network across the country.”
“Hello Canada! We, the Dutchmen and women behind MACNA Riding Gear, are stoked to cross the big pond and announce our arrival in the Land of Maple through our partnership with Motovan. We’re expecting a memorable collaboration based on our shared interests: nature, motor sports, and innovation. Count on us to always keep an eye out for anything that could have a positive impact on your experience, whether that’s road-, dirt-, or snow-related. We’re looking forward to being your wingman, together with Motovan.” —MACNA Riding Gear.
About MACNA: Our heated ecosystem is effective, user-friendly, and one of a kind. It contains gear for every body part; jackets, pants, socks, gloves, and grips. Since 1996, we’ve perfected the full-power batteries, smart heating technology, and precision-placed wiring in our heated gear. All pieces are interconnectable to enable use of only a single power source, which is unlimited if you hook yourself up to the battery of your motorcycle.
Download the MACNA Heated application and control the entire ecosystem on your smartphone. All our products are developed with professional athletes across all kinds of disciplines; from MotoGP to MX and from Enduro to Supermoto. This results in cross-discipline innovation and patents such as ArmaxTM protection that eliminates the weakest link in the construction, and the ConfoldTM construction which lets you turn your jacket into a backpack within mere seconds. The MACNA brand was established back in 1990 and revolves around innovation, because we see it as our mission to make the lives of riders more enjoyable. We aim to increase comfort, safety, visibility, and fun at the handlebars by solving known issues or by creating life-changing products of tomorrow.
For more information, visit www.motovan.com
Eighteen years after their unforgettable Battle of the Twins victory, the Irving Vincent team is returning to Daytona with a familiar rider, a reunited crew and a two-valve, air-cooled V-twin built for one of the toughest racetracks in the world.
In March 2008, Aussie road-racer Craig McMartin rode a hand-built Australian air-cooled twin to a landmark Battle of the Twins victory at Daytona International Speedway. It was a win that stunned the locals, elevated the Irving Vincent project onto the world stage, and proved that two brothers from Melbourne — Ken and Barry Horner — could take on the high banks of Daytona and leave with a winner’s trophy. Eighteen years later, the team is going back.
This time, Beau Beaton will be the rider. Craig — who now owns and runs McMartin Racing, the team that recently claimed back-to-back Australian Superbike titles with Josh Waters — will return as crew chief. Chris De Nuzzo and Ian Hopkins, who supported Craig during that 2008 trip, will join them again. A team rebuilt from familiar pieces, heading to one of the most unforgiving venues in motorcycle racing.
Despite the reputation surrounding the bikes, the Irving Vincent project remains a sideline to Ken and Barry’s day job manufacturing sparkless air starter motors at KH Equipment, the industrial engineering business they’ve run since the early 1990s.
Regardless of what happens in the opening round of the 2026 Super Hooligan National Championship, history is already set: An Australian-built pushrod V-twin returning to Daytona with the men who shaped its legacy, alongside a rider who grew under the wing of the man he now replaces. For Ken and Barry Horner, it marks the continuation of work that has pushed through decades of racing, hard-won results, paddock politics, and shifting rulebooks.
A Team Reunited
This return is driven by opportunity rather than nostalgia. The Super Hooligan Championship provides a rare platform where the Irving Vincent can compete as intended, with rules that allow the bike’s architecture and engineering to line up legitimately against the rest of the field. It also brings the people behind the project back into a familiar formation. Beau’s call-up as rider completes a loop that began in the late 2000s, when Craig mentored him after meeting at a track day.
“[Beau’s father] Ashley introduced me to him. It was his first time at the track, and I said follow me around. He followed me and learnt the lines and then it wasn’t too much longer after that he was faster than me! And it’s all gone from there.”
Beau’s first ride for Ken and Barry came in 2009 when Craig was unable to compete in a MotoGP support race on…
These heated gloves check all the boxes — well, almost all the boxes.
There must be something in the human genome that causes us all, somewhere around the age of 60, to suddenly develop a complete aversion to cold. It’s why old men wear toques in the summer, why retirees head to Florida as soon as they start collecting their Old Age Security, and why I have become inordinately interested in — nay, obsessed with — heated motorcycle gear.
I’ve got a full outfit of the stuff. From heated boot insoles to pants and jacket and gloves. But while I’ve kept the same go-to jacket and pants — from Venture Heat — for ages now, I’m always on the lookout for new electrically powered gloves. Having frostbitten pretty much every part of my body — including a few you really don’t want to hear about — I’ve determined that hands are the most vulnerable part of a motorcyclist to inclement weather.
Yes, your legs and your tushie will get a chill eventually. And, of course, protecting your organs is the prime directive when survival is on the line. But ride a motorcycle at anything less than 10 C and the first thing to freeze will be your hands. And, if the mercury gets really chilly, the only protection you have against frozen digits is electricity. Hence my obsession with heated gloves.
The latest to find a home in my garage are by Five, a French company. Unlike most other producers of electric gloves — Gerbing, Venture Heat and Keis — heated gear is just a part of the company’s glove lineup. Indeed, probably a small part, there being four models: my HG3 EVO WPs, HG1 and HG2 EVO WPs as well as the range-topping HG Prime GTXs.
Like most recent entrants to the field, the Fives are primarily meant to be battery-powered. Oh, Five does offer accessory cables that connect the gloves directly to the battery. But unlike any other heated gear I’ve ever seen, the lines from the battery don’t power the gloves directly but recharge the batteries instead. That might seem like small potatoes, but if you connect the battery directly to the gloves, then they operate on 12+ volts, which typically means they’re warmer
That said, the HG3s are plenty warm. I took a long ride in 2 C weather with one of the Five HG3s on my left hand and my trusty Keis G701s — my go-to heated gloves of late — on my right and, over an hour-long ride, the Five felt warmer, albeit ever so slightly, than the Keis. What makes that most impressive is that the Five gloves are powered by 7.4-volt batteries while the Keis gets its power from 11.4-volt batteries. And, as I said, normally, higher voltage generates greater warmth. I attributed the difference to the HG’s PrimaLoft synthetic insulation — on both the top and palm of the glove — as well as some aluminum foil that reflects some of the electric heat back into your hands.
It’s worth noting that, like most heated gloves, the Fives only heat the back of the hand and fingers as well as their tips. According to the company, it does not “place electric resistors inside the palm so as not to impede the grip of the controls” and instead calls heated grips “a good complement to heated gloves.” As dubious as that may sound, I agree with that sharing of duty. For one, gloves with wires through the palm and extra insulation often feel like snowmobile mitts while, on the other hand, heated grips on their own can’t heat the outside of your hands.
Besides, heated grips draw an extraordinary amount of current from the electrical system. Combining the two — battery-powered gloves and heated grips — can be a real boon because the combo can reduce the load on the battery.
For instance, on my 2018 Suzuki DL1000, which boasts a 490-watt alternator, heated pants and jacket with either gloves and/or heated grips on their maximum setting takes my onboard voltmeter a little too close to 13 volts for my comfort. Limiting my heated grips to their first setting of three and making up the difference with battery-powered gloves puts the charging system back in the black. And, believe me, if you need more heat than the grips and the Five’s on their medium or “Regular” setting, you’ve got bigger problems than cold digits. As in, I’d be on the lookout for black ice.
The batteries last pretty long too. On their highest “Boost” heat setting, for instance, the HG3’s 2,200 mAh batteries lasted 2.5 hours. Not only was that longer than the Keis G701s could hold out, it was also about 30 minutes longer than Five’s official rating. And, on their lowest “Eco” setting, they eked out about 6.5 hours, about 30 minutes more than Five claims.
Another laudable aspect of the Five’s performance is that the heat is controlled by a lone button located on the gauntlet of the right-hand glove. So you only have to tap one to change the heat level of both gloves and you never have to take your right hand off the throttle to modify your left glove’s heat output. Most excellent! Also included are LED monitors for the heat level and the state of charge of the batteries for both gloves. Overall, Five offers the best controls of any heated glove I’ve tested.
As for construction, the HG-3 is the one Five heated glove made entirely of synthetic materials, the others having at least a leather palm and some having some more animal hide on their back. That might seem like a disadvantage, but I see it as a benefit. For one thing, leather can hold water, which will require more energy from the battery to remain warm. Water laden leather can also overwhelm the waterproof layer as it did for one such heated leather glove I owned. The result was micro-shorting heating filaments, leaving me to choose between being very cold (with the heat off) or getting little zaps in my fingers if I wanted to keep warm. I now only ride with 100% synthetic gloves. All that said, the range-topping HG Prime GTXs use laminated Gore-Tex for waterproofing and thus, despite their leather palms, will almost assuredly repel all the wet stuff.
For protection, the HG-3s feature a plastic knuckle guard, a slider on the inside of the palm and some synthetic leather on the inside of the fingers, which results in the HG3s being rated as only Level 1 protection, the lower of the two CE accreditations. That said, in all my testing of heated gloves, they’ve all been only CE 1-KP rated, the only heated gloves I know of that rate a 2-KP rating are Keis’ G601s. As for whether I feel safe wearing the Fives, I found them as confidence-inspiring as my Keis G701s and more protective than Venture Heat gloves I no longer ride with.
So far, so good right? Good heat, excellent battery life and decent protection. All is right in the world of heated gloves. And, in fact, taken on their own — i.e. as the only heated garment you’re going to wear — the Fives have precious little downside. Even their price — $419.95 at Motovan.com — isn’t horrific.
What might cause some consternation is that when I’m on a long ride in very cold climes — I often ride between Toronto and Northern Quebec in late November — I like to plug my battery-powered gloves directly in the motorcycle’s battery to ensure I can get max heat for as long as I need it. Typically, I plug the gloves into a socket provided in the sleeves of pretty much every motorcycling heated jacket I’ve ever tested. The problem in this case is that the connectors Five uses aren’t the same as virtually — I’d just say “all” but I haven’t tested every heated product — all other producers use.
In other words, while I can plug my Venture Heat gloves into a Keis or a Macna heated jacket, the Fives can connect with neither. Although they outwardly look the same — a long tube with connections on the inner and outer surfaces, the male end of a Five is 3.5-millimetres in diameter while the industry standard versions measure 5.5-mm across. Oh, you could plug the Fives directly to the battery — with that accessory cable I mentioned earlier — but it would mean you’d have two heated electric circuits; one for your jacket and/or pants and another for your gloves. Not the most convenient of choices. That said, the Five connectors are as robust and waterproof as any used for motorcycle heated garments.
In the end, this remains the Fives’ only fault. If I were looking for heated gloves only (i.e. not a full complement of heated gear), the HG3s would be near — or even at — the top of my shopping list. They’re perfect for urban and suburban commuting and even longer trips as long as you’re not always in “Boost” mode. But if I were going truly sub-arctic — i.e. one of those long Quebec trips I mentioned with the mercury barely above freezing — I’d want gloves that I could conveniently plug into my jacket.
As I said, Five’s HG3 EVO WPs are available from Motovan for $419.95 and come with both batteries and a charger included. The HG Connection Kit that connects the gloves to your motorcycle via a direct battery wire or a DIN plug will be available by the time you read this article and costs $77.95.