THE ROAD WELL TRAVELED
Gentleman Biker believes the best way to travel to the most exclusive destinations is by motorcycle.
Luxury motorcycle travel transforms what's between points A & B into unforgettable experiences, rooting you in the moment and enhancing your journey.
Join us on the Road Well Traveled.
Crossroads
The bike rumbled beneath me. As we so often do on motorcycles, I sat at an intersection. But if I chose to, I could sit at this one all day. No traffic lights, no cars, no civilization. A desert crossroads, presenting itself at the moment I needed it.
Ahead the heat shimmered along the stark bright desert floor. Some shrubs, no Joshua trees. It seemed the same in all directions. Maybe my eyes weren’t sharp enough to see the differences.
I’d ridden into the desert to ponder reinvention. If you are Gen X, a younger Boomer or even an older Millennial, it’s crucial to see the world for what it is—in flux…
The Perfect Ride
I’m on the bike, sweeping and flowing through the curves, the engine beating a rhythm as I make the millions of subconscious decisions necessary to remain in that perfect, intuitive zen-like motorcycle experience. And yet—
The mind wanders.
We’ve all experienced it in so many facets of our lives, not just motorcycling. You’re in the moment, and then you’re not. You’ve exited what many refer to as flow, and what I think of as “motorcycle zen.”
Separating The Nexts From The Now: A Luxury Motorcycle Tour In Spain
A bit feverish with the travel bug a month ago, I’d asked myself where in the world was warm in late November? Did any of those places possess a good number of high-end restaurants? Of those, were any motorcycle-friendly and without threat of quarantine upon arrival? Spain rose to the top of a short list.
But it wasn’t all that warm, and the rain continued. Had I made a mistake?
“I’ll meet you in Barcelona,” agreed a London-based friend, business partner, and travel blogger. Eddie had encyclopedic wine knowledge and was more critical than me when it came to food—he gave no quarter to anything less than the best…
The Author’s Lounge At The Mandarin Oriental Bangkok
Dual staircases—white balusters with polished wood rails—ascended from either side, and I fantasized I might climb them one day, each step taking me back in time until I reached the small balcony at which they met, where I would happen upon Somerset Maugham or John Le Carre, and we’d decide to return to the lounge and talk sentence structure over oolong and finger sandwiches.
“Having one of your colonial literary fantasies again?” Sydney asked, bemused.
We shared a grin while the hostess led us to our table in the Author’s Lounge Tea Room of the Bangkok Mandarin Oriental, presented our menus, and returned to her post…
Elegant French Cuisine At L’atelier De Joel Robuchon – Bangkok
Sydney and I stepped off the elevator, into the expansive red and black, chrome and glass of L’Atelier du Joel Robuchon Bangkok, Bangkok’s relatively new Michelin-starred restaurant.
“Why are we always first to a restaurant?” Sydney asked. “Can we not just arrive at a normal time?”
“It’s eight o’clock. This is when they open.”
We’d left the bike at the hotel. Though she’s usually a good sport about riding to the best hotels and restaurants…
Authentic Pizza Napoletana at Angelina’s Pizzeria
The Laguna Canyon Road is more satisfying as an exit from Laguna Beach than an entrance. There’s a dog-off-the-leash feeling when you leave Laguna and its traffic lights and noise ordinances, pass the quaint businesses and homes along the more rustic section of the road – which always reminds me of 60s-era Southern California – and emerge onto the newer section, a two-lane, high-speed snake of concrete that’s never long enough. It’s not a challenging road, so motorcycle zen can be tough to achieve, but it’s fast with sweeping curves, so I tend to include it on my route when Irvine is my destination.
I listen to audiobooks during long rides, and recently I’d been listening to Pasta, Pane, Vino: Deep Travels Through Italy’s Food Culture, by Matt Goulding…
Rustic Breakfast at Ramos House
I’ve eaten breakfast here since the first week it opened in 1995. It’s a short ride from my place, the access is easy and blissfully vehicle-free, and there’s covered parking for the bike nearby. You attach to places. Why do I love motorcycles? It dates back to my childhood. Likely someone screamed past on a Kawasaki Ninja – the hot bike at the time – and so I mowed lawns all summer long to afford a moped. The rest is history.
The same goes with Ramos House. It’s October of 1995. My dad saw an early review and we hunted down the place. Just off Los Rios Street in San Juan Capistrano, by the train station, it’s not the easiest place to find. But we found it. The cinnamon apple beignets primed me, the blueberry coffee cake (not on the menu this time around) sold me, and, after an incredible scramble…
Crossroads
The bike rumbled beneath me. As we so often do on motorcycles, I sat at an intersection. But if I chose to, I could sit at this one all day. No traffic lights, no cars, no civilization. A desert crossroads, presenting itself at the moment I needed it.
Ahead the heat shimmered along the stark bright desert floor. Some shrubs, no Joshua trees. It seemed the same in all directions. Maybe my eyes weren’t sharp enough to see the differences.
I’d ridden into the desert to ponder reinvention. If you are Gen X, a younger Boomer or even an older Millennial, it’s crucial to see the world for what it is—in flux…
The Perfect Ride
I’m on the bike, sweeping and flowing through the curves, the engine beating a rhythm as I make the millions of subconscious decisions necessary to remain in that perfect, intuitive zen-like motorcycle experience. And yet—
The mind wanders.
We’ve all experienced it in so many facets of our lives, not just motorcycling. You’re in the moment, and then you’re not. You’ve exited what many refer to as flow, and what I think of as “motorcycle zen.”
Separating The Nexts From The Now: A Luxury Motorcycle Tour In Spain
A bit feverish with the travel bug a month ago, I’d asked myself where in the world was warm in late November? Did any of those places possess a good number of high-end restaurants? Of those, were any motorcycle-friendly and without threat of quarantine upon arrival? Spain rose to the top of a short list.
But it wasn’t all that warm, and the rain continued. Had I made a mistake?
“I’ll meet you in Barcelona,” agreed a London-based friend, business partner, and travel blogger. Eddie had encyclopedic wine knowledge and was more critical than me when it came to food—he gave no quarter to anything less than the best…
Motorcycle Airbag Smackdown: Dainese Smart Jacket vs. Alpinestars Tech-Air 5
El Diablo Run, the biennial ride from Biltwell’s HQ in Temecula, California, to the beach town of San Felipe, Mexico, may seem an odd place to begin a cage match between the leading airbag devices on the market—Alpinestars’ Tech-Air 5 vs Dainese’s Smart Jacket—but given this was to be my first long(-ish) ride with Alpinestars’ Tech-Air 5 airbag “system” after riding with the Dainese Smart Jacket in all conditions for over a year, it struck me as perfect…
The Author’s Lounge At The Mandarin Oriental Bangkok
Dual staircases—white balusters with polished wood rails—ascended from either side, and I fantasized I might climb them one day, each step taking me back in time until I reached the small balcony at which they met, where I would happen upon Somerset Maugham or John Le Carre, and we’d decide to return to the lounge and talk sentence structure over oolong and finger sandwiches.
“Having one of your colonial literary fantasies again?” Sydney asked, bemused.
We shared a grin while the hostess led us to our table in the Author’s Lounge Tea Room of the Bangkok Mandarin Oriental, presented our menus, and returned to her post…
Elegant French Cuisine At L’atelier De Joel Robuchon – Bangkok
Sydney and I stepped off the elevator, into the expansive red and black, chrome and glass of L’Atelier du Joel Robuchon Bangkok, Bangkok’s relatively new Michelin-starred restaurant.
“Why are we always first to a restaurant?” Sydney asked. “Can we not just arrive at a normal time?”
“It’s eight o’clock. This is when they open.”
We’d left the bike at the hotel. Though she’s usually a good sport about riding to the best hotels and restaurants…
Authentic Pizza Napoletana at Angelina’s Pizzeria
The Laguna Canyon Road is more satisfying as an exit from Laguna Beach than an entrance. There’s a dog-off-the-leash feeling when you leave Laguna and its traffic lights and noise ordinances, pass the quaint businesses and homes along the more rustic section of the road – which always reminds me of 60s-era Southern California – and emerge onto the newer section, a two-lane, high-speed snake of concrete that’s never long enough. It’s not a challenging road, so motorcycle zen can be tough to achieve, but it’s fast with sweeping curves, so I tend to include it on my route when Irvine is my destination.
I listen to audiobooks during long rides, and recently I’d been listening to Pasta, Pane, Vino: Deep Travels Through Italy’s Food Culture, by Matt Goulding…
Rustic Breakfast at Ramos House
I’ve eaten breakfast here since the first week it opened in 1995. It’s a short ride from my place, the access is easy and blissfully vehicle-free, and there’s covered parking for the bike nearby. You attach to places. Why do I love motorcycles? It dates back to my childhood. Likely someone screamed past on a Kawasaki Ninja – the hot bike at the time – and so I mowed lawns all summer long to afford a moped. The rest is history.
The same goes with Ramos House. It’s October of 1995. My dad saw an early review and we hunted down the place. Just off Los Rios Street in San Juan Capistrano, by the train station, it’s not the easiest place to find. But we found it. The cinnamon apple beignets primed me, the blueberry coffee cake (not on the menu this time around) sold me, and, after an incredible scramble…
