My Canadian Bike

 I like adventure bikes. In Greece it's what I ride because roads are sometimes treacherous but always interesting. But at home I have an antique for my ride. It's a bike I dreamed about when I was much younger and finally acquired it later in life.

In 1979 Kawasaki engineers produced a bike they'd been working on for several years. It was to be their first foray into 6 cylinder motorcycles. Honda stole some of their thunder with the introduction of the CBX the previous year. The 1978 CBX 1000 was a sport bike with an air cooled 6 cylinder engine that produced over 100 hp and it received rave reviews.

The 1970s were a time of a major energy crises caused by petroleum shortages. The Middle East oil producers slowed exports and there was a revolution in Iran. To conserve petroleum the U.S.actually reduced interstate highway speed limits to 55 mph.

So into this world was born a behemoth of a motorcycle with a displacement of 1300 cc and 120 hp. It had liquid cooling and a shaft drive like a car. It also would break the interstate speed limit in first gear. The motorcycle was heavy at over 700 lbs. It didn't get rave reviews. But it did raise eyebrows and create a sensation for its complexity and sheer overkill for the time. One bike magazine dubbed  it the Hulk, another named it King Kong.

At the time I'd just bought a 1978 KZ1000 and quite liked it. But the 1300 was a bike I drooled over just because of the size of the thing.

I used to read all the cycle mags of the time and I remember coming across an article about a Finnish guy who'd set a world record for wheelies. He'd gone 65 miles on a California interstate on his back wheel. He was riding a KZ1300. He was a stunt rider and his name was Arto Nyquist. I really craved that bike.

Then someone stole my KZ1000. It wasn't insured for theft because theft insurance was expensive. I was then paying off a loan for a bike I didn't have any more. Then I got married. Then I had kids. Afterwards, there was never enough money for that bike of my dreams.

But in October, 2005 I found it. I came across a 1981 KZ1300 in a customer's backyard and bought it for $1000. It had a fairing and hard bags and an ugly paint job, but it was a KZ1300. It also needed work to get running. It was a project I dove into that winter. I tore off the touring junk to put it back to how it looked originally. I had a friend who owned a bike shop so I took it to him to tune up the engine and carbs.

One of my favorite memories is going to pick it up at the bike shop when it was ready. When I walked into his office there was a low rumbling sound coming from the back of the shop and my friend asked me if I liked the sound of my bike. It was the very first time I’d ever heard that engine running and I fell in love with that sound. The throaty exhaust sound reminded me of a buddy's TR6 Triumph sports car. My bike actually had more horsepower than that Triumph.

Then I had it painted black.

The thing rides like a train. And it's so smooth. There's no tingle through the grips like every other bike I've owned. Just smooth power through the gears right up to a theoretical 148 mph. I've cruised along at 100 mph but would never test my luck to find out the real top end. It's a 35 year old bike but it's an every day rider for me.

The last long ride I had on it was to the Cabot Trail in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, Canada. It was July and the weather was excellent. That place was meant to be seen by motorcycle, with the highest mountains in eastern Canada. Rugged terrain and ocean, that’s what I like.

Kind of like Greece.

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Searching for Odysseus

Odysseus Statue in Vathy Harbour, Ithaca

 My brother got me a book for Christmas when I was about ten. It was called Theseus and the Minotaur and that book led to a lifelong fascination with Greek mythology for me. Since I retired a few years back I have been working on fulfilling dreams I’ve had since I was a kid. I wanted to walk on the ground where Hercules walked, see where the Spartans battled, climb the mountain where the oracle of Delphi held sway and see as many mythological places in Greece as I could while I was still able..

I have seen Knossos where King Minos built the underground labyrinth for the dreaded Minotaur, I’ve been to Thermopylae where the 300 Spartans made their last stand, walked within the Cyclopean walls of Tiryns, stood at the Lion’s Gate of Mycenae and combined my love of Greek history with motorcycling around this great country.

My most recent trip to Greece was to rent a motorcycle and ride solo for two weeks… as I’ve done several times. The Greek weather and the history of Greece keep bringing me back. But my last trip in May of this year was for an added reason…to find Odysseus. I mean to literally find the island of his home. The real Ithaca.

Ithaca 1976

The first time I went to the island of Ithaca was in 1976 while hitchhiking around Europe. I’d arrived on a ferry which came there only once a week. I was there for no more than a day when I fell asleep  sunning myself on a rocky beach near Vathy harbour. I ended up with sunstroke and was very sick for several days. I was taken to a little clinic in Mitikas back on the mainland by a kind fisherman where I recuperated. I remember the blisters on my back and having to carry my heavy backpack afterwards. I remember later in that trip, in Crete, walking from the hostel in Iraklion to Knossos with that backpack on so I was pretty tough way back then. That was about an 11 kms walk. I don’t hitchhike anymore since I can afford the luxury of a motorcycle to get where I want to go. But in 1976, Ithaca had eluded me.

Ithaca Storm

In September 2013 I went back to Ithaca after riding down from Athens to Sparta. The weather was good until the day after I arrived by ferry. The skies were ominous and grey and the weather forecast was not looking much better. Heavy winds and rain were called for and if you’re a biker that’s not good. But if you’re a biker in Greece that’s even worse when you’re in mountainous terrain on Greek pavement. That pavement is just different. It’s shiny and slippery even when it’s dry. Downshifting or braking going into corners can send you down pretty fast. So, when wet weather is added to the equation, discretion is the better part of valour. I took the next ferry to Astakos on the mainland because I had little time left to get back to Athens for my flight home. Again Ithaca had eluded me. The gods were against my seeing the home of the hero of the Trojan war.

My trip to Ithaca in May of this year was going to be different because I was seeking Odysseus’ home on a different island. I would be traveling to Kefalonia. It is another of the Ionian Islands which lies closest to Ithaca, less than an hour away by ferry.

Robert Bittlestone, an English writer had authored a book called Odysseus Unbound: The Search for Homer’s Ithaca which shook my world. Using Homer as his guide, he proposed something which amounted to a revelation to me. Kefalonia was the real home of Odysseus! My search for Odysseus’ kingdom had been on the wrong island in my past journeys. 

Homer was a blind poet who lived 3,000 years ago or so and wrote the greatest tales of our time, The IIiad and The Odyssey. These stories were full of names of people and places from a mysterious lost age and the gods who lived and walked among them. He named kings and ancient legendary cities that had been lost to the mists of time. Mycenae, Tiryns, Troy…these were mythological places that no more existed than Tolkien’s fictional cities of Mordor, Gondor, Moria. However, archaeologists rediscovered these lost cities and they did so by using Homer’s descriptions. It shocked people that these legendary places actually existed. 

Odysseus’ return home from the Trojan War took ten years. In Homer’s The Odyssey, he describes his home in this way:

Around her a ring of islands circle side-by-side,  

Doulichion, Same, wooded Zachynthos too, but mine

lies low and away, the farthest out to sea,  

rearing into the western dusk  

while the others face the east and breaking day.

As Bittlestone noted, present day Ithaca lies to the east of this little grouping of islands so it is not farthest out to sea. Kefalonia is furthest west. He studied the terrain of Kefalonia and saw that it was basically in two parts which were joined by an ithsmus. This western section of Kefalonia, called Paliki, was the original Ithaca according to Dr. Bittlestone. The convincing facts as he lays them out show that this is the only location for Ithaca that makes any sense when you consider Homer’s description of the island. Robert Bittlestone had become my hero and Odysseus Unbound my roadmap.

Paliki in background

Kefalonia Island lies on a major geological fault line and is subject to constant earthquake activity. In fact there was an earthquake earlier this year prior to my arrival there. It caused damage to roads and roofs (which are mainly comprised of clay tiles). In 1953, the whole island suffered a major 7.2 quake which caused a mass exodus to the mainland. That quake raised the island 60 cm. Two quakes in 2014 were 6.0 and 6.2 Richter scale. So seismic activity is nothing new to Kefalonia and to me it helps to explain the Paliki/Ithaca theory. 

Petani Beach, Paliki

I stayed on Kefalonia for a week, playing archaeologist and riding the mountainous coastal roads. I walked the hills of Paliki and viewed the vistas Odysseus must have viewed. Such a beautiful island with the greatest beaches in all of Greece. Myrtos Beach and PetaniBeach are in my opinion the most beautiful beaches in the world. Petani Beach is on the Paliki side of Kefalonia and surely must have been a favourite place of King Odysseus. 

The weather was excellent during my stay on Kefalonia and the ocean was crystal clear and calm. I savoured the feeling of floating in the salty water under that startlingly blue sky, knowing I’d finally done it. I had found Odysseus. It was almost like the gods welcomed me there, that this third trip to the real Ithaca was the charm.

As I write this it is with great sadness as I have learned that Robert Bittlestone  passed away earlier this year. I would have loved to have met him.

I know he now walks with Odysseus. 

The Odysseus Unbound Project continues and memorium can be found at:

http://www.odysseus-unbound.org/robert-bittlestone.html

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Hockey Archaeology

I love Greek history. So many wars and such great mythology. Greeks invented democracy, so the people ruled with one man one vote. Thanks, Greece. Some suggest that if the Athenians hadn’t defeated the Persians at the battle of Marathon, our western civilization would not enjoy the freedom we now have. We’d be at the mercy of a dictator like it still is in much of modern Persia. Thanks again Greece. We owe you.

Greek inventions include the Catapult, the Map, the Odometer, the Analog Computer (check out the Antikythera mechanism), the Steam Engine and don’t forget the Olympics. Also, the Greek, Archimedes, was the Leonardo de Vinci of his time with many futuristic inventions.

But one invention isn’t in the history books.

I’ve visited Greece a number of times. But it was most recently on a visit to the Athens Archaeological Museum that I came upon a piece of Greek history that surprised me when I laid eyes upon it. It was the marble grave marker of a Greek soldier. It would appear that he was a hoplite (infantry) soldier who was also possibly an accomplished athlete. His sport? Refer to the picture and tell me what this sport is. If it isn’t a form of hockey, then I don’t know what else you would call it.

The sides of the base of this grave monument show soldiers in battle attire and war chariots. But the front of the statue base is the important scene because there are only carvings on three sides and the hockey scene is front and center. It shows six men playing hockey using curved sticks and a ball. This Greek soldier played our game.

This grave monument is from around 500BC and was found in the ancient cemetery of Athens, or the Kerameikos. A statue or “kouros” would have stood on this marble base but it is missing. It would be interesting to know what the statue was which stood on this base. Possibly an ancient hockey hero? Was he the Wayne Gretzky of his time?

I’m a Canadian guy who grew up like most Canadian boys of my generation who would rush home after school to get their hockey sticks and head for the road hockey game down the street. I don’t think much has changed since I was a kid and I’m almost sixty. Maybe video games have diminished the outdoor activity somewhat but the interest is still alive and kids have their hockey heroes just like I did.

I have read with awe about the Spartans and the incredible battle of Thermopylae. Knowing they had been betrayed and knowing they would die, King Leonidas and a small contingent of hoplites defended the narrow pass at Thermopylae (“hot gates”) against a half million Persian invaders for three days. On their final day, over breakfast and knowing their fate, Leonidas said “tonight we dine in Hades”.  In their final hour, the remainder of them perished in a hail of arrows which blocked out the sun. They are remembered for their bravery and I am inspired by their sacrifice. I have been to Thermopylae and I said a prayer for King Leonidas at the hot sulfur springs that still exist there.

I cannot contemplate having the kind of bravery they demonstrated.

But I can identify with that soldier who played our game. That is something I can understand. There was a connection there, in that lonely space in the museum between him and me. I felt it.

I know the argument rages about who invented “our” game and when it began. And I know this isn’t ice hockey. But this monument is part of hockey history and one I didn’t expect to find in a Greek museum alongside such beautiful ancient marble and bronze masterpieces. The history and mythology were impressive in that place but this odd little relic is what stuck with me as I departed the museum.

After all, hockey is more than just a sport. It’s a brotherhood. It’s almost a religion to some of us. We bleed our team colors. We teach our kids the game and see them participate, to play as a team and hopefully to become leaders. We watch our teams of hockey soldiers battle against the enemy teams. We criticize our hockey generals when the strategies they employ are not successful. Our victories are celebrated with parades and adulation. Heroes are made and worshiped. We speak about how the hockey gods give and how they take away.

Each year it begins again. All teams have a chance to win. The rules are tweaked and voted upon to try to make it fair and equitable for all.

Kind of like a democracy.



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300 Spartans...Thermopylae

The first time I rode through the mountains to Thermopylae from Athens it was with a sense of great anticipation. This was a very special place to me, a place I’d wanted to see since I was a kid. I’d been interested in Greek history since I first read a children’s book about Theseus and the Minotaur. But the story of the 300 Spartans held a fascination for me that never waned.

To ride down from the mountains to the coast was a great trip in itself. But arriving at the site of that famous battle was a major surprise. The archaeological site of Thermopylae could be completely missed if there were no signs. It was nothing but a widened spot in the highway with a memorial statue dedicated to the Spartans. And it stood on a flat plain with no ocean, no cliff and no narrow pass that should have been just wide enough for two chariots.The "Hot Gates" were nowhere to be seen.

I pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway and shut off the bike. There was a bus load of Japanese tourists who were busy taking pictures in front of the monument so I sat and waited while the crowd milled around. It was then that I noticed a smell in the air of rotten eggs. Across the highway there was a little road that led into a grove of trees. I started up the bike and rode over toward the smell of sulfur. Half way down the little road was an empty building which had once been a restaurant but was now run down with the front door half open. Past the old building was a paved area with on old rusted fence in front of a stream with a small waterfall. I went there and took a look but there were no signs to designate whether this was the hot springs.

To the right was a dirt road that led through some trees so I went to check out where it led. I’m glad I decided to investigate the dirt road because it led to the source of the smell. I’d found the sulfur springs that give Thermopylae its name. This was the source of the hot gates of history. This was worth my trip here over land and time. I stood on the spot where Leonidas stood. I took a knee and said a prayer.

I thought of all the stories about Leonidas I’d read over the years. When the Spartan King had left his home on that suicide mission, his wife had asked him what he expected of her. He’d said “Marry a good man and have good children.” When the Persian King Xerxes, who led an army of half a million, told Leonidas to lay down his arms, the Spartan replied only “Come and take them.” On the morning of that final day of battle, the Spartans and Thespians knew they’d been betrayed and although they could have escaped, they would not retreat. During their final meal that morning Leonidas said to his men “Eat well my friends for tonight we dine in Hades.”

Taking off my boots I sat on the edge of the pool and put my feet in. Very slowly I put my feet in, because it was very, very hot. It was a shallow pool with greenish water that bubbled in places from the vents underground. The pool was fed from one end and flowed down to where it eventually joined the falls in the parking lot. I spent an hour there just soaking in the good feeling of the history as well as the water. It was about 11am and getting hot, so I finally rode over to the monument which was quite impressive. There was also a small monument commemorating the 700 Thespians who had remained with the Spartans when all was lost. I was later to visit Thespies where they were from, a small countryside village with few residents today. Brave men from a forgotten little place. Heroes.

Across from the monument is a hill with a crude set of stairs called the Hill of Kolonos. This is supposedly where the Spartan last stand happened. At the top of the tree lined path is a clearing in a grove of pines with a plaque with the famous words of Simonides…

"Go tell the Spartans, stranger passing by, that here, obedient to their laws, we lie."

There are poppies everywhere here, as though designating where the Spartans and Thespians fell under that rain of Persian arrows that blocked out the sun.

Looking down from the hill over the highway there was a wide flat plain that stretched to the sea in the far distance, kilometers away. 2,500 years ago, this place was much different before earthquakes and plate tectonics changed the landscape. So many things have changed since Greece stood together against impossible odds. And eventually won. We in the West owe Greece  a great debt of gratitude for the democracy we enjoy today.

I love Greek history and I love this country for biking. These are two things I enjoy most. Although Canada is my home, Greece holds a spell over me and I need to see these mythical places for myself while I still can. I’m not young and I made a promise to myself that Thermopylae was top on my list. I made it. To stand here meant something to me and that’s all that mattered.


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