Starting out on Highway 20 E in Birmingham, Alabama, I saw signs for a town called Moody and thought, “That’s appropriate.” I turned the Triumph Speed Four onto the exit ramp and hoped for the best. I’d started my day with a mound of pancakes, a quick look at a map, and a lump in my throat. You could say I was a little pensive.

It was the end of October. Four days earlier, I’d picked up an ’04 Speed Four at Triumph headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia, and rode to Barber Motorsports Park in Birmingham for the weekend vintage races. I planned to start riding home to Connecticut on Monday. It would be my longest solo trip so far.

I’d chosen the Speed Four because I’m a big fan of naked standards, and I’d heard the bike was a blast to ride. And, besides, it just looked bad-ass. The first time I fired it up, even the pipe sounded mean. But Triumph’s Monika Boutwell quickly emasculated the poor brute, joking that I was bringing the Great Pumpkin home for Halloween.

The Speed Four uses the 599cc in-line four from the previously discontinued TT600. The motor was retuned for a stronger midrange, with different pistons, cams, and remapped fuel injection. This means you’ve got a broad spread of torque with plenty of top end for street riding. Right from the start, I loved the peppy engine, and my only complaint was a low-speed drivability issue. There’s a rough spot in the midrange at steady-state throttle in the lower gears. But it’s nothing that some creative clutch work and maybe a Dynojet Power Commander can’t fix.

Over the weekend, I took the S4 on short trips to and from the track, and I knew I’d picked the right bike. The handling was sharp, and, man, was it fast. Late Monday morning, I began the long trek home — roughly 1,200 miles back to Stamford. My plan was to have no plan. I’d just take any roads headed north or east. So, when the exit for Moody came along, I made a quick decision to see where it led.

Day One

I rode along 411 N, past a lot of pawn shops and churches. Feeling adventurous, I took County Road 24 in Asheville, North Carolina, which pointed toward mountains. It was a pretty road that swooped toward N. Neely Henry Lake.

Stopping at the lake, I met a man named Don Maddox, who said, “Triumph makes motorcycles?” He told me about Little River Canyon, the deepest gorge for a long ways around. He explained how to get there: head north on 411, then take 68 to 273. He gave me a new map he’d just bought, and warned me that the road to the top of the gorge was steep and difficult.

Continuing on 411, I followed Don’s directions and found the entrance to Little River Canyon Park. As promised, it had a very steep, twisty road up the mountain. I started up, but, before long, something didn’t feel right. The bike’s power was suddenly mushy. Not long from the start, I reached a crossroads and saw a sign for the summit… 23 miles ahead. I already had 100 miles on the tank, so I turned around to look for a gas station.

I came to another intersection in the middle of nowhere, and that’s when things got weird. I couldn’t find any of the tiny roads around me on my maps. I decided to follow a passing SUV, thinking they had to be headed for civilization.

I followed them for what felt like endless miles on poor roads. Eventually, I was plodding along the top of a gorge on a narrow, twisty, tree-lined street. The Speed Four bucked and slid over lumps of pavement and gravel, while rolling up and down the steep rises and dips. It was hard to see in the heavy shade, and the SUV was quickly leaving me behind. My heart was pounding in my ears.

Finally, I hit a main road. I turned right and found a small park near a scenic lookout, where a man guided me to a gas station only 10 miles away. Hallelujah! With sweet, giddy relief, I rode to the station and sat on a curb to calm my nerves. Looking at my maps, I discovered that I’d gone west and south in a big circle. Since it was already after 4, I decided to find the fastest way to make it to Chattanooga, Tennessee, by evening.

I took 176 toward Fort Payne, then 11 N. Riding along rolling hills before a setting sun, I wondered whether I should give up on back roads. Eventually it turned dark, and the quiet road gave me some peace. A ghostly train glided along beside me.

I checked into a motel in Chattanooga, feeling like I’d wasted the day. My great send-off was a grand flop. I called friend and freelancer Neale Bayly, who lives in North Carolina, to ask for advice on a route. Neale urged me to stick to highways and byways to make up for lost time, but I insisted on squeezing in back roads. Finally, he spat, “Look, do you have any bloody idea how far you are from Connecticut?”

I’d just ridden 200 miles in a circle. I knew very bloody well how far I had to go.

Day Two

I woke up at 6:45, wide awake and ready to do better. I took 75 N to 64 E, a nice route Neale had recommended. Passing country houses and farms, I watched the mist rising over fields and ponds.

A small stint on 411 N brought me to 39 E, a beautiful, twisty little road with small houses and big fields. From there I turned onto 165 E, start of the famous Cherohala Skyway in the Cherokee National Forest. (It changes to 143 in North Carolina.) It’s very scenic and winding, though not too technical, and gave me my first real chance to explore the Speed Four’s excellent handling.

At 374 pounds dry, the S4’s not a light bike, but it never felt cumbersome. It has the same twin-spar aluminum frame and adjustable suspension that the TT did, which gives it incredible handling characteristics. The 43mm aluminum-cartridge fork is adjustable for preload, rebound, and compression damping, as is the rear monoshock. Though the S4’s steering was light and responsive, I stopped to play with the setup, as I was running a bit wide exiting curves. Back on the road, I quickly discovered that when you adjust the suspension on this bike, a little bit goes a long way! The brakes (two 310mm floating discs and four-piston calipers up front; one 220mm disc with a single-pot caliper out back) are a very strong setup that works well with the chassis.

Continuing along 143, I turned onto 129 N and stopped for lunch at the Deal’s Gap Resort, which sits at the crossroads with 28. The Speed Four received a lot of admiring attention, and I got one marriage proposal (politely refused). Then I headed north on curvy, tree-lined 28, one of my favorite roads of the trip. It led me to 74, a fast, scenic highway with curves like a very easy racetrack — perfect opportunity to enjoy revving the S4.

A few similar highways took me to 29 in Lynchburg, Virginia, where I called it a day around 8. I was surprisingly free of pain. With its nearly upright seating position, the S4 was comfortable all day. And after nearly 13 hours in the saddle, only my shoulders were sore from high-speed windblast. I fell asleep feeling like I’d more than made up for my lousy first day.

Day Three

It was raining when I woke up, which got me off to a slow start. I rode through Lynchburg on 29; once outside of town, the road is winding and scenic. The bike was great in the rain, and I was impressed with the Bridgestone Battlaxs on the wet roads. I could really feel what the tires were doing at all times.

I turned onto 231 N, heading for Skyline Drive in the Shenandoah National Park. Cutting through farmland, 231 was like a gentle roller coaster. I turned onto 522 W and soon hit the entrance road to the park, a fast, curvy joyride on the Speed Four. Skyline Drive itself is simply beautiful.

Exiting the park, I took 55 E, a very pretty road, to Front Royal. Got onto 688 N next, a narrow and winding road with lots of farms and beautiful gold-colored corridors. Just as I was wondering whether I needed to be on the lookout for deer, a giant black cow galloped across the road about 30' in front of me. I slowed down to watch, but took off as soon as I saw her looking at me. She was jumping up and down on a pile of leaves.

I took 50 E to Middleburg and rode past estates with giant fields, white fences, and huge homes. A few turns onto other roads with quaint scenery took me to 7 N, and, finally, to 340, a plain but pretty highway. Around 4, I stopped at a gas station in northern Virginia. A stranger gave me advice on the fastest route to 95 N, which would take me all the way home. It looked like I’d make it to Stamford that night, especially if I cooked on the highway.

But I had an idea. Around 7:30, I stopped at a rest stop in Maryland and called my dad. Instead of going to Stamford, I’d decided to head for my folks’ house in eastern Pennsylvania. What better way to end a trip?

Rushing through the cold night air, I hunkered down behind the S4’s flyscreen and counted down the miles. I thought about how far I’d come in a short time, and what a varied learning experience I’d had. And, having grown attached to the bike, I started thinking creatively about my bank account. At $6,499, the Speed Four is a hell of deal. It handled every situation with confidence-inspiring grace, and I was really fond of the little bug-eyed beast.

The very last legs of the ride were made on highways I hardly see anymore, but used frequently while I lived at home. It was strange, after spending days on roads I’d never seen before, hoping they’d come out where I thought they would, to be back where I could ride with my eyes shut.

I pulled into my parents’ driveway just past 9 and was greeted by a hyperactive dog and a piece of chocolate cake. Utterly content, I ended my great solo adventure asleep in the bed I grew up in. RB