SIDI DOHA DAY BOOT – PRODUCT REVIEW

And my morning ride through our little local Tuscany

I DON’T LIKE RIDING IN TENNIS SHOES. It just seems dangerous. Same goes for dress shoes or the casual ones I wear to work. Yet, I’ve done it. And continued to do so. Why? Because I am too lazy to like lug my professional shoes with me to work and change out of my what ever my current road boot happens to be.

Since I reentered motorcycling about eleven years ago, I’ve been on the prowl for sturdy, supportive motorcycle footwear that didn’t scream, “Hey! This guy came to meetin’ on a bike! What you ridin’? A Harley?” Nothing against Harley garb, but I was looking for something that would look trim and professional.

Yesterday, I found ‘em. The Sidi Doha seemed to fill the bill. Yes, A&S had my size: 12ish US. Yes, the shoes felt supportive. And, yes, they didn’t scream motorcycle boot. I was in and out in less than 6 minutes.

In the evening, I began to have second thoughts. Had their sleek line swayed me? …their suede upper? …their thick, sticky, solid rubber sole? I determined that an early morning ride would put my impulse purchase to the test.

THE SEPTEMBER MORN dawned cool and inviting. I hummed a little Neil Diamond as I slipped the new Sidi’s on over my wicking socks. The back of my foot popped into the heel cup. Not a lot of room for my toes to wiggle around, but the ball of my foot fit precisely where the widest part of the toe box was engineered. Seemed to me that if I took an hour-and-a-half ride and found myself captivated by the ribbons of secondary roads, that’d mean the foot-shoe relationship would be a long lasting affair.

RIDING THE BACK ROADS of Placer County is much like (I would suppose) riding roads through Tuscany. Citrus and stone fruit orchards line sections of pavement. Fermenting peaches and plums perfume the air. Stretches of pastureland graze cattle, sheep and goats. Vineyards have become the area’s rage and mom and pop wineries are producing reputable reds.

I’ve driven these roads countless times, exploring the historic cemeteries, still-working barns and stopping to purchase mandarins or sample wine. Each day varies in temperature and humidity and – like the subtle differences between vintages – each ride on these familiar roads is delightfully different from the last.

Today I eschewed my favorite, Wise Road, for tiny, hummocked strips of pavement that climbed over rises and dropped into oak shrouded tunnels. The yellow caution signs at the twists and turns appeared as invitations and the various one-lane bridges had me wondering about construction dates: the 1930s or back when the Romans staked claim to the area?

Early on, a low sun accentuated every bug carcass and scratch on the face shield of my Shoei RF -1000. That was irritating. Also, I noted gentlemen farmers, commuting from “estate” to their town-based cubicles in pricy German or American road cars, often couldn’t negotiate their side of the road while also managing a cup of Starbucks. Equally, if not more, irritating.

WHAT WASN’T IRRITATING was the pair of Sidis. They planted nicely when I needed to stop. They didn’t walk off the pegs. They accommodated the shifter without my having to think about the distance between the sole and the top of the toe box. They breathed the cool morning air. They felt, well, comfy.

After ninety minutes, I am home. I did very little walking on my tour of the local Tuscany, so I wore them around the house for an additional hour or so. The Doha’s felt like a snug pair of shoes that would become a bit less stiff as they broke in.

Given what I noticed abut the morning ride and what I wasn’t aware of vis a vis my feet, I’m thinking the Sidi Dohas and I will have a long and pleasant relationship. My ten-year quest for a professional looking day boot to wear on the bike has come to a favorable conclusion.  Too bad I'm not workin' any more.


NOTE:

A&S BMW/Triumph/Ducati/Vespa is one of the premier motorcycle dealers in the country. They are also in my backyard. They are local and therefore, my money is going to a local guy. I always check with A&S first. The Church of the Open Road encourages readers to shop locally.

Owner Randy Filice reminds me that A&S does have a price match guarantee.

© 2011
Church of the Open Road Press

NEW RIDING BOOTS

On a ride a few weeks back I found that the bottom of my left foot was wet and getting increasingly wetter as the ride progressed and as the pavement got puddly. Come to find out, I'd worn through the sole of the riding boots I'd had for maybe four or five years. Seems the right boot was about shot as well.

I went to the local moto-supply store and bought myself a pair of Dainese Stivale BB3 D-WP Boots touring boots for a real pretty penny. I already own a pair of Dainese riding gloves and they fit, well, like gloves. Likewise, the boots. Cruising around the store, these 12.5s fit my weird size 12 feet as if engineered specifically for me. The YKK zippers at the back of the boot (not the side), however, take quite a bit of tugging - especially where the boot narrows around the ankle.

Took the Dainese’s on their first outing today as the temperature was about 54 and the sky broken overcast. New boots always take some getting used to as the soles and arches fit differently against the foot peg so braking and shifting is thrown off. That aside, these are another example of why one pays more dollar for an up-grade in quality. The Stivale's certainly have it.  The fit is tremendous. The support - especially around the ankle - is superior to anything I've ever worn when riding.

Up Foresthill Road about ten miles east of Auburn, there’s a high-end subdivision on acreage that looks down on the North Fork of the American. I’ve had my eye on a hunk of property up there for some time, so I thought I’d check as to whether it’s still available and whether they’re still asking $550,000 for the bare parcel. (Yes and yes, so "no.") I wore the boots as I walked maybe a half mile of dirt, rock and muddy trails out to a view over the river. Even though new, the boots were glove-soft comfortable, supportive, and did not feel as it their Vibram soles would let me down. Had I opted to head further east and frequent the fancy steakhouse in Foresthill, the boots may have belied my bikerness. (Not that it would have mattered in Foresthill.)

I took the long way home through the little Tuscan-like environ that is the Sierran foothills of Placer County. Where shafts of mid-afternoon sunlight thrust themselves through the broken, misty ceiling, the last of the fall colors ignited and stole my breath.  At one point, however, the clouds gathered themselves up and it rained a good steady bit.  Feet dry and toasty.

After nearly 70 miles, my only niggle would be the zippers. I am hoping to acclimate to the angle necessary when pulling those YKKs. Perhaps I just need to hold my mouth right…

(c) 2010
Church of the Open Road Press