I'm currently at war.
Not with my neighbors, nor my wife, my family, or my children. Nor am I raining hellfire down upon my boss, who's actually sorta normal for once. Hi, Travis!
No, I'm sending salvos toward the field mice that have invaded my garage and taken up residence in the engine bay of my Honda Ridgeline. And adding insult to injury, they've used my truck's wiring as a snack, causing all sorts of electrical headaches that have turned the most reliable vehicle I've ever owned, as well as the most practical, into an eye-searing rave upon hitting the "Start" button as every single engine light starts blinking.
At this point, you'll likely be asking yourself "What the hell is he talking about? Isn't this a powersports website? Why is he talking about a new-ish truck?" Well, fine sirs and madams, it's this very headache which has led me to conjure up the most perfect two-vehicle garage: a 1974 Ford F100 pickup and the old-soul but still new Royal Enfield Himalayan 450.
I defy anyone to take umbrage with these picks. However, I will explain myself and my reasoning, which goes beyond just, "I'm sick of modern wiring being chewed by a bunch of furry assholes." Though it might not go much further than that...
Let's first talk about the Royal Enfield.
Honestly, I haven't stopped thinking about that Himayalan 450 since the launch a few months back. Whenever I start talking with someone in the market for a new motorcycle, I bring up the Himmy. Doesn't matter if they're looking for a dual-sport, a purpose-built off-roader, a canyon cruiser, bar hopper, or even a naked superbike.
It all ends with a version of, "Have you met your lord and savior Royal Enfield?"
I know, I know, it's not the most powerful, nor the most capable, nor the most anything motorcycle on the planet. But you honestly don't need all that. What you need is a modicum of power to pass cars, great handling both on- and off-road, the ability to make you smile, and the ability to fix it with any blunt instrument you have handy, all of which this motorcycle has in spades.
And then there's the price. I mean, what other motorcycle on sale today costs just $6,000 out the door and will give you all the above, a 3-year, unlimited-mile warranty that works globally, and a bike you can bash all day and still work the following morning to get to work?
I'd wait, but we'd be here until the heat death of the universe.
Then there's the Ford.
I've been eyeing this particular Ford truck for the last four years, as it's been sitting in my neighbor's yard since we moved in. It's a single cab, short bed, 1974 Ford F100 with a big block affectionately known as "Ranger Rick." And while I love the patina—because I've reached the age where patina is actually cool—what I love most about it is that it's just a truck. It's been used, abused and, like the Enfield, was put away wet. Yet, all these years later, it's still being used as a plow truck.
More than that, it's been up on our mountain for the last twenty years, sitting out in the elements, and awaiting those furry bastards to move in. Yet they haven't.
Now, that could be for a variety of reasons. Most on the internet will point out the use of soy-based rubbers and coatings that modern vehicles have wrapped around their wiring harnesses. But RideApart's own Janaki Jitchotvisut had a more balanced and reasonable take; fewer fucking wires.
"The bigger issue is that cars have much more wiring since they've gotten so complex," she relayed in Slack, adding, "so mice damaging the wires becomes much more expensive." And yeah, that makes a ton of sense as my Ridgeline ain't much bigger than the F100, but the sheer amount of wires that splay out from its ECU is truly staggering in their length, amount, and how much they connect. There are lights in the bed, a rear backup camera, USB ports, heated seats, a heated steering wheel, an electronically controlled low gear, and hundreds of other functions all controlled through some sort of cable. There's a bonafide feast for our uninvited guests.
That's just not the case with the F100, which is almost purely mechanical.
And more than just the simplicity of said engineering, and the lack of mice-enticing wiring, what I can do with the F100 isn't that much different from what I can do with the Ridgeline. Yes, the Honda is way safer, gets better gas mileage, has more seats, and a full trunk that doubles as a cooler/wild game storage compartment. But do I really need that? I mean, I like the latter alot, and my wife may have a thought or two on the safety aspect given I tend to pick our three children up from school. But come on, I rode in the back of pickups as a kid and I survived.
My kids will be fine. And I don't need Apple CarPlay, even though I may have once unequivocally said I wouldn't buy another new car without it. That said, this isn't a new car.
The F100 would also still be able to hold any motorcycle, ATV, or snowmobile I need to test, as well as tow my Can-Am if I ever wanted to not just drive it on the street. Might be even more useful, because I think it might have a better payload rating than the 1,500 pounds the Ridgeline can carry. Though the rust holes may prove that wrong.
The Royal Enfield and F100, however, just seem perfect together. An old truck and a new bike, complete with warranty and capability, but still maintaing this old soul. A bike that harkens back to those that'd have been around when the F100 was new.
Honestly, I would love to have them in my garage just hanging out together. I just have to convince my neighbor to sell me the truck, as well as Royal Enfield to toss me a Himalayan 450 for a VERY long-term test of, say, 10-20 years? And then I wouldn't have to spend $3,200 fixing damaged wires.
See, Alli (my wife), it's a win/win/win!
