What is the best motorcycle ever made? Easy. The one you have the most fun on. Now defining fun, that’s all in the eye of the beholder — or in this case, the rider. So what’s my definition of fun? Thrilling terrain, good views, and someone to share it with. A bike that can “do it all.”
Take some twisty asphalt with sweeping corners, add a side of dirt roads up a mountain and top it off with a passenger on the back. That’s my recipe for the best motorcycle ever made. The thing is, I have a few bikes that check those boxes. And you probably do, too?
What is the “Swiss army knife” of motorcycles? The do-it-all bike? Do you have an answer? Not even a specific bike, we’ll get to that. But the genre of motorcycle. Did you guess dual-sport? Obviously. Often referred to as the adventure bike nowadays, these motorcycles are aimed to do it all. That’s nothing new, these types of motorcycles have been around for quite some time.
I live in the city, the heart of Atlanta just a few miles east of downtown. It’s one of the largest metro areas in the country. While it’s quite populous, I’m surprised by the amount of folks that ride in the city proper, inside the perimeter. It’s not as many people as I would think. Once you leave the city, motorcycles appear everywhere.
Georgia is full of sweeping backroads and wide-open views, some great mountains in the north, too. Motorcycles make sense for commuting, so I would think more folks would ride in the dense, metro area. I do it every day and I don’t think twice about it. I’ll hear folks say that they’d love to ride, get into motorcycling, but it’s often followed by an excuse. They’ll cite the crazy drivers, terrible traffic, bad roads, etc. While I do agree with all of those things, I’m just used to them by now.
Luckily Atlanta is just under two hours away from some of the best motorcycle riding in the southeastern United States, we find ourselves at the foothills of the Blue Ridge mountains. The roads here seem endless. Paved and dirt. And you have to do both, especially at the same time. How could you not? That’s why dual-sport motorcycles were invented. Why limit yourself to one thing when you can have it all? Having it all sounds fun.
When I find myself leaving the city for the mountains, what bike do I choose? Well, my 1981 Honda XL500S. Sure it’s old, but it’s capable. Plus, I still like to pretend it’s the ‘70s — even though I was born in the ‘90s.
Imagine the year is 1981, and Honda reveals their latest and greatest iteration of the perfectly crafted XL500. A powerful yet smooth machine, beautifully dressed in red, adorned with lights making it a street legal version of their XR500. These motors are monsters, if you’ve ever ridden one you know. Now I’m not saying that the XL500 is really the “greatest bike ever made” — even though it is. Actually, the Trail 90 is probably the greatest motorcycle ever made, but I’ll save that argument for another issue.
I would consider this motorcycle one of the early examples of a factory built, true dual-purpose machine, intended to be capable of everything. These bikes are grandfathers of the adventure bikes we have today. But it’s not about the bike, but what the bike can do. And this motorcycle can do it all. Even with a passenger on the back and bags loaded. All it needs is a full tank of gas. So, let’s fill it up and put it to use.
For today’s adventure, my partner and I found ourselves in Rabun County, Georgia, which is one of my usual areas for riding. Easily one of the prettiest places in the state with plenty to offer. It was an early spring day and the weather was bright and chilly. Our goal was simply a day of fun in the mountains. Good meals, good riding, a good hike, good times.
Our day started in downtown Clayton, Georgia, on historic Main Street. We perused the plentiful gift shops and antique stores that adorned the road. This town is a character, it lives and breathes. All the old buildings and the stories they could tell. I love visiting places like this, they feel stuck in a bygone era. My vintage motorcycle fit perfectly amongst the town. It felt like a movie scene. Heck, riding a motorcycle always feels like a movie and you’re the star.
On our way out of Clayton, we made a pit stop for some grub at the Universal Joint, a bar and grill that occupies an old service station on the edge of town. It felt perfectly appropriate for the day. It has a cool atmosphere, oil cans and aging signs on the walls, and some good food to fill us up for the days coming adventure.
The mountains were beckoning us, they painted the landscape behind Clayton and invited exploration. My XL500 was begging to be ridden, so we saddled up and hit the backroads out of town. One kick is all a Honda needs, so one kick and we were off. Just outside of town is Black Rock Mountain State Park, Georgia’s highest elevation state park. One of my favorite things about this area of the state is its altitude. Mountains in these forests peak anywhere from roughly 4,000 to almost 5,000 feet. The geography and elevation make for some incredible views, but also some of the best riding in the country. The way the roads move around cliffs, dip below into valleys, and soar into the sky is unbeatable.
It was nearly a perfect day with not a single cloud visible, just a bit brisk and breezy. We navigated through the park and stared at the sun and rising mountains. My XL500 was just humming along. Even though it’s a big thumper, Honda knows how to engineer. This motor features an early counter balancer, making it a smoother ride compared to other late ‘70s large-bore dual-sports. The bike was packed with luggage, I had my Giant Loop gear attached and filled with snacks, drinks, tools, spares, and souvenirs. Cori was on the back, and she was loving every second of it. The bike didn’t even bat an eye. I kept asking for more and it kept giving it. I don’t think I ever got out of fourth gear, the torque and power were all there. Add a seat cushion and this bike was ready to be ridden all day. We continued on through the gap of Rabun Gap, some lowlands surrounded by the mountains. It was a bit warmer and less windy down here, we spent time circling he gap, taking in all the farms and livestock we saw.
The roads eventually lead us through Dillard, Georgia, and across state lines into Macon County, North Carolina. The next planned stop I had in mind was a place called Culpepper’s Otto Depot, which is an architectural salvage store. It’s quite sizable, filled with thousands of things to see. I could personally spend an entire day here just getting lost amongst everything. The building itself is striking. I remember the first time I passed it and wondering what it was. The structure is right on the side of U.S. 441 just over the state line. It’s kind of hard to miss, yet it almost looks like any other barn off the roads up here.
Cori and I got off the bike to stretch our legs and peruse the salvage yard and goodies. You could find just about anything here, and some of the most random things. Featuring mostly architectural pieces like lighting fixtures, vintage hardware and door knobs, doors, wooden beams and adornments, windows, glass, gates, furniture, cars, boats, etc. The place is huge, multiple stories, indoors and out, and a basement, too. I haven’t really come across another place quite like it. It’s museum like, browsing through all the treasures is just as fun.
It was now the middle of the afternoon we were back on the bike, finally ready to see just how capable this dual sport machine was. We were in Otto, which is on the southeast side of the Nantahala National Forest. There is not a single bad road nor bad view here. I could spend a lifetime exploring this forest and never get bored. The roads and trails here truly do seem endless.
I had a hike in mind for us, but it was at the top of a mountain 4,950 feet up. Easy. Just about 8 miles of dirt trails climbing up the side of mountains to reach our destination. The 30-minute ride was filled with switchbacks, epic views of adjacent mountains and the late afternoon sun cutting through the trees. Even at altitude with a passenger, bags loaded, the bike was singing. This is what it was made for — fun. It’s a fun machine. And remember, most fun equals best motorcycle.
I will say that the “vintage” aspect does add to the appeal for me and my choice of the best motorcycle ever made. It’s a simple machine. I didn’t find myself missing any modern features or creature comforts. The bike isn’t distracting if you don’t want it to be. It can be seamless and one with the environment. But then again it can also get rowdy and do third-gear wheelies at 45 mph. To have all this engineered, designed, built and perfected in the late ‘70s is what might be most impressive. To have a 50-year-old motorcycle as the only motorcycle I need says something.
We made it to the top of the mountain where our hike now lay ahead of us. We grabbed our picnic packed in panniers and ventured out into the woods. The air was thin up here, we could definitely notice it, our breathing heavily increased as we hiked. Even though the trail was short, it was vertical. What waited for us at the end though would be plenty worth it. Soon the trees opened up and the view took our breath away.
We were now standing at the edge of a cliff, on top of the world, or so it felt. We were perched upon a bald rock face that jutted from the earth and overlooked neighboring mountains and the valleys below. It was truly epic, a great way to finish out our adventure. We unpacked some snacks and drinks and soaked up the daylight. We watched as the sun slowly moved across the sky, painting shadows across different parts of the mountains.
As time passed, the temperature lowered and winds raised. The day was drawing near, so we decided it would be best to hike back to the bike and ride down the mountain. We packed out what we carried in, and made our way down just as golden hour was lighting up the forest.
One of the best features of my XL500 are the two decompression methods to help start the bike. Not only is there a lever below the clutch to release compression, there is also a cable attached to the kickstart mechanism making for automatic decompression as you kick. If dialed correctly, this is an “easy” one kick bike.
Before I went to kick it this time, I had the thought of just rolling down the mountain. Ever do that? Coasting downhill to the sound of nothing but nature and your drive chain. We rolled along the winding gravel, catching glimpses of the sun setting through the trees. We eventually found our way to pavement as evening fell. I looked down at my odometer, nearly 80 miles down and still gas in the tank to get us back.
As great of a motorcycle that this is, riding it two up from Atlanta 90 miles on the interstate is one thing I’d say the bike can’t do. Actually, I will say that it can do that. I don’t want to do that. For comfort reasons. So that’s maybe why you have a modern adventure bike.
I guess next time we’ll just take my BMW F650GS.
