By VERENA DOBNIK
Associated Press Writer
July 28, 2006, 7:21 PM EDT
NEW YORK -- Alan Baer has a special hobby: It involves a motorcycle. A tuba. And buns of steel.
The New York Philharmonic's tuba player belongs to a club whose members do long-distance "endurance" motorcycle trips, such as his 2 1/2-day, 2,000-mile odyssey to Vail, Colo., for the orchestra's performances this summer.
As a member of the Iron Butt Association, Baer rides a Honda ST1300 with his tuba strapped tightly across his back.
"The macho thing in leather _ looking good _ is not what motorcycle biking is about for me," says the 40-year-old musician. "It's transportation, and it gives me time to think, time alone to unwind."
It also gives him time to rehearse the scores he's playing _ on two wheels. Baer listens to his iPod, mentally rehearsing the music beamed through speakers in his helmet.
During the regular Philharmonic season in New York, Baer bikes south along the Hudson River from his home in New City, about 30 miles north of Manhattan, to Lincoln Center.
His wife, freelance trombonist Noreen Baer, occasionally rides with him, bringing along her trombone on a trailer hitched to the Honda. Their 8-year-old daughter, Julia, who plays violin, also is a bike fan.
But Baer travels solo for the Chicago-based Iron Butt Association, whose 20,000 worldwide members _ from Russia to Turkey to Brazil _ can each cover at least 1,000 miles nonstop in 24 hours (except for short breaks to refuel).
Some members ride as a group, an experience Baer likens to playing with other musicians.
At top speeds on the highway, "you must be attuned to the other riders, since the slightest miscue can result in an accident," he says. "It's not unlike learning to read the body language of the bass trombone sitting near you in the orchestra, so you can anticipate what they're going to do."
But there's a difference between sitting for hours onstage with the Philharmonic and sitting on a motorcycle for 16 hours _ the length of Baer's trip to the orchestra's first rehearsal in Vail last week.
Special accessories come into play: the "Alaskan butt pad," for instance, a custom-made sheepskin seat cover that cushions the ride; or underwear that's light and breathes well for those stretches of desert where temperatures soar above 100 degrees.
"The motor puts out an incredible amount of heat, and you're sitting on it, dressed in full, padded riding gear," Baer explains. Some "endurance" remedies include diaper-rash ointment and a concoction called "Anti-Monkey Butt Powder."
No explanation needed.
It's not for nothing that the association hosts rides with names like the "SaddleSore 5000" and the "BunBurner Gold."
"There's nothing elegant about it," says Baer, letting out a carefree laugh during a telephone interview from Vail.
It's all worth it, says the Erie, Pa., native, for moments such as rolling into Colorado at sunset while listening to the soundtrack of "Troy," a 2004 movie based on the mythical Greek love story.
"As the suns sets, you start seeing the colors from the sand and rocks _ awash in oranges, yellows, browns, like the 'purple mountain majesty' in 'American the Beautiful'," he says. "You can go really fast _ over 100. And the music is powerful, with lots of brass and drums going on. It's gorgeous."
For Baer, the art of motorcycle riding is as much fun as playing with the Philharmonic _ especially "big passages in a Mahler symphony, with the tuba and whole brass section blowing together. You feel like you're holding up the section, giving it a carpet to ride on."
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