Impressions of Central
Texas – part 3
In an effort to be cool – which,
indeed, takes quite an effort in my case – I walked into the Austin, Texas Moto
Guzzi dealer wearing my bright red Moto Guzzi tractor-style baseball cap. I figured I’d fit right in.
This was our first, and presumably only, visit to the Texas
capitol city. We had ninety
minutes to kill before our scheduled tourist bus tour of the town and
environs. “There’s a motorcycle
shop just up the freeway that sells Guzzis,” I said to Candace, my wife, having
done the on-line research that generally precedes my visit to a new area. Usually that research comes a cropper
given the Italian motorcycle maker’s thin network of sales outlets. “They’ve got the 2014 California
Touring for like forty-five hundred dollars off retail. Brand new!” I exclaimed. Her shrug was unapparent, given the
good sport she always is, so together we entered AF1 Racing Motorsports. There, I would nose around and sit on
some inventory, while she would…
After allowing a few minutes of
browsing and quite possibly spying my red hat, the sales technician asked, “What
Guzzi do you ride?” I use the word
technician because the guy was really
good. “I have a Breva 1100 and a
BMW.” “Oh, I like the Breva,” he
said, adding a few more words about this discontinued model to ensure I knew he
knew what he was talking about. He
turned to my wife: “And do you like to ride with him?” “Not so much, anymore,” she said. “Oh, so what hobbies do you have that
cost a lot of money?”
I’ve been a fan of the Guzzi marque since I sat on that ’07
Breva about four years ago. The
Sacramento area BMW salesman insisted that I take a well kept used one for a
spin. Oh my! The rumble from the exhaust. The rightward lean when cracking the
throttle. The fluid nature of the
Italian design elements. The
fit. The company’s storied
history. The bikes’ Saab-like quirkiness. The mojo. Two hours later, the black B-1100 sat ticking and cooling in
my garage, much to the chagrin of the missus.
Three California Touring models sat lined up in the middle
of AF1’s huge showroom. I
straddled a black one, imagining the wind whistling just over my head,
deflected by the large Plexiglas “cop-type” windshield. I pictured myself as Clint Eastwood chasing
bad guys on rooftops in that second Dirty
Harry movie. I’d coveted the California
1400 since I first encountered one at the dealer in Seattle. And at this price?
 |
I craned my neck to see if the sales guy might be circling
in to ask if I had any questions about a bike he didn’t know I’d pretty
thoroughly researched. He was back
at the apparel counter chatting it up with Candi. “Quilting? Cool. He
(indicating me) has two motorcycles.
How many sewing machines do you have?” She responded.
He said, “There are a lot of quilts in my family, you know, handed down
through generations. Do you have
any like that?” She answered
describing a depression era sample that may have come from a great aunt. ‘That must be quite a piece of history.”
I moved to the white model, sat on it, leaned it off its
side stand and twisted the throttle.
I remembered the brief conversation I’d had a while back with Miguel
Galluzzi, the designer of the new California model. He’s my height and, perhaps, just a little bit heavier. “I wanted to design a bike for guys our
size,” he had said, moving his hand from his shoulder to my own. I settled into the seat and pictured
myself gliding around serpentine curves on California’s north coast or spinning
across great stretches of Nevada and Utah and Wyoming. That, and the whole Clint Eastwood
thing. I looked over my shoulder
again.
“Fredericksburg?
Oh that’s a great little town.
And there are a couple of really nice quilt shops there.” He offered directions.
Nothing looks or feels like a Guzzi, in my mind, and the new
California model advances the Guzzi lineup into a sport-touring/cruiser realm
that turns heads and elicits questions wherever it is parked. Or, at least, that’s been the case with
the Breva. Dismounting, I flipped
a lever on one of the panniers affixed to the Cali. Opening the top, I peered in, impressed by the volume but
curious if it exceeded what I might have on my GSA.
“Do you sew, you know, clothing?” Pause. “A
friend of mine designs clothes – has a shop in Fredericksburg. Just out of town. You should stop by.”
Standing in front of the big cruiser, I admired the odd
headlight and wondered about the coverage of the standard running lights. I ran my index finger the length of the
bike’s shiny front fender.
“Well, yes, shoes are really the foundation upon which
fashion must work…”
I got back on the black one, and paused to look at my
watch. Our city tour was scheduled
to depart in thirty-five minutes and it was a twenty-minute haul back into
town.
I approached the apparel counter. “If you have time,” the technician said to me, “I can let
you ride one of those.”
“Oh,” I replied, we’re from out of the area.
“That’s what your wife said. California. North
of Santa Rosa? There’s a great
barbecue house up in Cloverdale on the road out to the coast…”
We chitchatted our way to the door where the sales tech
said, “You know, we ship units anywhere in the United States.”
Then the following statement came from my wife, which explains
why I opt for the term technician in
reference to the chap on the sales floor.
She said: “You should put a thousand down and have ‘em ship one to
you.” I was gobsmacked. That sales guy had to be good.
Three days later, we entered a quilt
store in Fredericksburg, Texas. In
room upon room, brightly colored bolts of fabric were squeezed against one
another. Candi admitted that she
didn’t need another project – several were still awaiting completion back in
the sewing room – but she’d shop for one anyway.
As she wandered through the displays, I approached the
counter where two women stood talking about inventory. “Excuse me,” I said. “The other day, my wife and I were in
Austin at an Italian motorcycle shop.
While I was browsing Moto Guzzi motorcycles, the sales guy spent about
thirty minutes talking with her about quilts and sewing and stuff.”
“Oh, why, that's very nice,” they chorused, adding a polite little giggle. Clearly they'd dealt with the husbands of customers before.
“So I was wondering if either of you would like to chat a
bit about Italian motorcycles.”
Fortunately, when we travel, I pack a book or two to
read. I finished nearly three
chapters while waiting on the bench outside.
o0o
Resources:
AF1 Racing has a huge selection of Aprilia, MG, Vespas,
Zeros and other brands. Their
website: http://af1racingaustin.com/
An interesting interview with designer Miguel Galluzzi: https://rideapart.com/articles/minutes-miguel-galluzzi
One Quilt Place in Fredericksburg, TX. This place rivals the shop in Sisters, Oregon for inventory
and cool stuff, in my opinion: http://www.onequiltplace.com/
© 2015
Church of the Open Road Press
