Al Blanchard, famous BMW mechanic, was the first one I remember telling me about Princess Auto. He had this shiny piece of bent metal attached to the end of a plank that seemed to hook onto the back of his truck. It made rolling a bike up easy. None of that plank slipping off the end of the truck syndrome.

He also had a milk crate that he used for a quick step up to the bed. I made a mental note of both. Months later I heard of Princess Auto again. It’s a great place to buy “stuff” my friend Holly Ralph said, when I brought up the topic. I asked her to be specific. What was this place? “Oh, it’s good,” she said. “We could spend a day there looking at things.” Things. Hmm. This famed Princess Auto was located in Hamilton. It made a good excuse to meet on a winter’s day.

I don’t know what every other biker does in the winter, but some of us socialize ... and shop. In this case we did both. Holly had invited Kathryn Hunter and I to her place for dinner and so I asked Kathryn if she’d like to go to Holly’s and visit Princess Auto. Sure. She loves Princess Auto, she said, and had been to one in Mississauga and one in Whitby. It seemed like I was the only one who’d never been there. I’d never even heard of it. How could that be?

It was a blustery cold day when we met up at the store, in the minus category, not a biking day at all. The store is located at the edge of the industrial part of Hamilton, famous for Stelco. There are a lot of scary looking steel factories, which are large buildings covered in big pipes with flames burning from the top of stacks—the stuff horror movies are made of. That area can be found on Burlington Street, just off the QEW. From there we turned left on Parkdale, and left again on Barton. It was easy to find.

We ran from the car into the shop, arriving a mere 15 minutes later than we’d expected due to Friday rush hour traffic. Holly had items in her basket by the time we found her—but then again, so did we! The place is amazing. They have everything from shrink wrap to electric winches, ratchets, wrenches, air compressors and tool cribs. They even had a wheel lock designed for the front wheel of a motorcycle, the kind that helps compensate for bikes that come without centre stands. I wanted to buy one because it seemed so very practical, but at $40, and considering every bike I own has a main stand, I resisted. I resisted a lot in fact. Princess Auto is like a dollar store for tools. There are some things you need to spend big money on and buy quality, while with other things you can get away by going cheap, because you need to use them only once or twice. This isn’t to say that they don’t have quality stuff. They do. But they’ve certainly got cheap covered!

I don’t have a pickup truck but I almost bought a shiny piece of metal they call a 750-lb. Ramp Plate. It will bolt onto a nice big plank that I do have at home, which has come in handy for the occasional loading of bikes onto trucks, which I’ve done a few times in the past year between my friends’ bikes and my own. It will make loading a bike much less scary when I’m not worried about the board slipping off the tailgate.

So there we were, wandering around like kids in a candy store, making discoveries and calling out to each other to come see, when this man in the company of his teenage son said, “This place is only for women escorted by men.” We burst into laughter. But later I realized that we had been the only women there shopping. Funny that.

A day at Princess Auto is a day well spent. And after we all spent, we took a tour along Burlington Street past all the scary steel factories. For someone such as myself who is from Toronto, it’s strange that I’ve never seen them up close. That was impressive. The industrial zone of Toronto is dull by comparison.

Then Holly led us up the hill and to her place in Ancaster, where we were treated to a meal of manicotti and Norton red wine. And we talked. There were tales of this and that, all the things that bikers talk about when not riding, such as riding, plans for future riding, and bikes.

And then came the part that kind of pissed me off. Holly bought herself a new riding suit. She’s an AT-GAT kinda gal, “All The Gear All The Time.” Her Aerostich suit was 15 years old and she had the urge to move up to a Rukka suit made in Sweden. She was showing us her new home with one closet dedicated to riding clothes when she said she was looking for a new home for her old Aerostitch suit. Holly’s 5’2”. Kathryn, who who lent a hand with my entry level bike feature story a few years back, is also 5’2”, and much the same size. The suit came off the hanger and Kathryn stepped into it, one leg through the crotch, then zipped, and the other leg wrapped around with the leg, then zipped. Then into the zipped-together jacket. It fit perfectly. Do you know what the chances are of finding a used Aerostich riding suit in petite women’s sizes? And this one was offered for free! I tried it on but was laughed at. I could close the jacket and do the zipper up across my hips and waist but when it came to zipping up the legs, I had to have help, cause I just couldn’t bend over in the suit. The body was way too short. And so it was that I learned my middle name is not Cinderella and Kathryn not only got a fabulous Gore-Tex riding suit (and won’t have to borrow my snowsuit anymore, which I guess is a bonus for me), she also got a really nice grey and yellow BMW rainsuit in the deal. Sheesh! I think Aerostich rhymes with something ...

In the morning we searched web sites for Aerostich and Rukka clothing. We called Aerostich and all three updated our addresses to renew our subscription to Aerostitch’s fabulous motorcycle clothing and accessories catalogue. Dial (800) 222-1994 or visit www.aerostich.com for their Rider Warehouse catalogue which, in my mind, is the best around.

And speaking of catalogues: the Princess Auto catalogue that I have in my hand shows they’re located everywhere but Toronto. Not only that, but I bet you already knew that, right? Humph.

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