If you heard last week’s episode of The Lowdown Show, you know that I was at the Toronto Motorcycle Show in mid-February. It was a worthwhile visit, despite the show’s decline since COVID. I always get to meet the people who really make things happen in the industry (rally and race organizers, regional moto-manufacturer reps, trainers, tour guides, aftermarket innovators). But I will say that this year was a last-minute call on whether I’d go or not, because A) I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get around the show, after being banged-up in that crash last October—my hip still gets stiff when I do much walking, and the moto show requires a lot of walking.
And B), just getting to the show is a major hassle. Last year, I barely got there and I barely got home.
The MMIC is Canada’s motorcycle industry body, similar to the MIC in the US, and they run their shows mid-winter for obvious reasons. They want to show the just-released bikes, and rider interest in a motorcycle show is at its peak, since most of Canuckistan’s roads are not fit to be out on two wheels (although some hardy souls always ride to the shows).
Harley-Davidson and Honda had the two busiest booths at the show, from what I saw. Photo: Zac Kurylyk
The trouble with mid-winter motorcycle shows is that they often coincide with mid-winter storms. When the show was stronger, they used to run a mid-February appearance in Moncton, New Brunswick, not far from my home. They canceled that show after it was blizzarded out of existence two years in a row. Let me tell you, it is not much fun being storm-stayed anywhere on the east coast, but especially not in Moncton.
But now, the Toronto show runs on that mid-February weekend instead, in prime snowstorm season. And last year, with Toronto’s airport a mess due to snow, my flight for the show’s opening day was canceled. I had to string together a combination of regional flights and even a cross-Montreal taxi ride to get to the city late Friday night; I made it to my hotel about 15 minutes before they closed the desk for the night. Ah well, the show would be still worth the visit on Saturday … I thought.
On Saturday, the city was hit by snow again. And then again on Sunday, when I was supposed to fly home. The aisleways of the show were empty; the streetcar system was a mess due to the storm, so riders couldn’t get across town to the show, and out-of-towners didn’t want to drive in. But against all odds, my flight home wasn’t canceled. Or rather, it wasn’t canceled until I had packed up my hotel room and was on the train to the airport . We were just about to leave the station when I got the message; I hopped off the train, hobbled back to the hotel and checked back in. At least they had a good jazz show downstairs that night, with pretentious-but-talented U of T students ripping through some standards.
The next day, Monday, I shuffled around town on the various subway and streetcar lines, checking out record stores and waiting for a flight eastward to open up. It looked like I’d get home a day late, but not much the worse for wear—and then Delta’s Flight 4819 flipped on the runway , and Toronto’s airport now had to deal with an aviation near-disaster as well as three days of backlogged flights.
[embedded content]
It was pandemonium at the airport, Emily Roberts told me . She’d been working Motorcycle Mojo magazine’s booth at the show that weekend, and I don’t know how many days it took her to get home to British Columbia. as she had flights canceled too. Her description of lines of travelers packed around Air Canada’s customer service center sounded like something from Dante’s Inferno. Me, I checked back into The Rex Hotel again and tried to rebook with Air Canada’s app after they stopped answering their phones. Then they effectively ceased customer service through their app as well; I remember they basically removed all record of my flights for the weekend, not allowing me to rebook.
The motorcycle show weekend had now turned into some sort of bizarre travel horror film and I was stuck. But then I heard from Matt, my longtime riding buddy on east coast motorcycle trips. He told me: “My dad’s driving to New Brunswick from Ottawa tomorrow, if you can just get there.” I checked; there was an early-morning train to Ottawa from Toronto. I made sure I was on that early-morning train, which itself was greatly delayed when it got to Ottawa, but at least I got there. After another 12 or 13 hours of driving through the highways and byways of Quebec and New Brunswick, I managed to get to the airport where I’d started the whole affair, picked up my car, and ended up back home in an exhausted heap 23 hours after I’d started the day.
You can see why I was a bit hesitant to book another mid-winter trip to the show.
Thankfully, this year was drama-free, and the show wasn’t super busy, but I did see a lot of the people I needed to meet. Photo: Zac Kurylyk
Thankfully, this year was drama-free. No trouble on the 90-minutes drive to the Fredericton airport in the very wee hours of the morning. My flights all arrived on time, despite some mess-ups with the departures. At least I got to watch Double Indemnity while we twiddled our thumbs waiting for a spot to open on the runway. And the show, while not as big as years past, still had lots of bikes to see, and lots of riders to meet. And even more riders at the after-show meet-up of the Canadian Vintage Motorcycle Group’s local chapter, where we had the Lucas Push again. This classic event sees the CVMG’s members push an old Brit bike from pub to pub, celebrating (or perhaps commiserating over) the days when they were regularly stranded by the Prince of Darkness himself, Joseph Lucas. Last year, we’d pushed it through snowbanks. This year, a light rain fell as we pushed it from Jack Astor’s to The Firkin and then The Artful Dodger.
A trip back in time? Pushing an old Triumph through the back alleys with no engine power and holding up traffic, just like the old days. Photo: Zac Kurylyk
It was a fine way for me to end the weekend; a reminder of why the Canadian motorcycle show circuit is still popular, even as it shrinks. If you love motorcycles, there is no better place to meet other people who feel the same way. And I’ll be back at the show again next year, as a result—as long as the weather cooperates.
Trail Break runs on the first Monday of every month, unless Zac forgets about it, or gets worked up about something in the days in-between scheduled columns …
