Friends -VS- Biker Friends

I can only site this fellows MySpace page for this. It is great...

Friends: Never ask for food.
Biker Friends: The reason you have no food.

Friends: Will say "Hello."
Biker Friends: Will give you a big hug and a kiss.

Friends: Call your parents Mr. and Mrs.
Biker Friends: Call your parents Mom & Dad.

Friends: Have never seen you cry.
Biker Friends: Cry with you.

Friends: Eat at your dinner table and leave.
Biker Friends: Will spend hours talking, laughing and just being together.

Friends: Know a few things about you.
Biker Friends: Could write a book with direct quotes.

Friends: Knock on your door.
Biker Friends: Walk right in and say "I'm Home!"

Friends: Are for a while.
Biker Friends: Are for life.

Friends: Will ignore this.
Biker Friends: Will forward this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You know what? I have biker friends who have never ridden before in their lives. It's never too late to saddle-up and ride the wind!

Pulling the Trigger

"Give Jack a call! He will have a deal for you, definitely!"

That is what I was told. My little Rebel struggled to keep up with the larger bikes last weekend, and in many situations failed miserably. She was pushed the hardest she ever had been. The hard accelerations, the mountain passes, the traffic, the harsh weather. We rode through rain and hail and high winds and dust and sand clouds all at 65 to 75 MPH. She was valiant.

She waited until the day after to protest. She blew an oil seal on the main crank shaft.

Now, I have been told that I do not communicate well, but this communication was loud and clear; no more hard rides, please. In respect of the fact that she valiantly rode across the US and back with me, I shall respect her wishes.

So, I start reviewing my finances and options. I can get a fix'er up'er or go to a dealership. A fellow told me of Jack at Red Rock Harley. "He will find a deal for you!"

Well, I have heard that before. On my Friday lunch hour I drive over to take a look. First was a blue Sportster 883; 2006 I think. Not thrilled.

I asked Jack about the new arrival of used bikes. This, Jack had mentioned the day before on the phone. We go back and look. There she is. There was that primal tingle on the back of my neck; the twitchy throttle hand; the dry mouth; and the almost indescribable need to find some gear and go for a ride.
She is a Harley Davidson 2004 Sportster XL1200 Custom. This includes soft saddle bags (almost new), stepped seat (I like that), passenger back rest and short, LOUD pipes. I pick her up on Tuesday.

Off to San Diego

Well, some time today some riders from the Nevada Chapter of BACA (Bikers Against Child Abuse) and myself will be making our way to San Diego for a little get-together with the California Chapter.

The dedication of these folks are amazing.

So, until Sunday when I return, safe riding, all!

Complexities of a Motorcycle

While enjoying a leisurely ride after work to the bank, the bike shop and home on side roads, for one reason or another the complexities of riding tumbled around in my brain. Not only are these beautiful pieces of machinery complex, but a good rider must understand and master them all.

For those who don't ride, here is a little overview of the controls...

Right Foot: Rear Brake. This is important in slowing the bike. The rider must remember that only about 20% of all braking should be performed by the rear. Any more can cause the tire to loose traction. That is NOT a good thing.

Right Hand: Front Brake. This is very important in slowing a bike. Approximately 80% of all braking relies on the front brakes. Throttle. Accurate and precise throttle control is vital to safely navigate turns and perform smooth shifting. Kill Switch. Should an emergency arise where the engine must be cut off immediately, there is a kill switch near the throttle. Starter. Bikes with electric starters will usually have the starter button on the right.

Left Foot: Gear Shift. Actuating the gear shift properly must be smoothly coordinated with throttle and clutch control. Coordination failure can cause bad things to happen, like dumping a bike while accelerating to highway speeds.

Left Hand: Clutch. Not only must the clutch be carefully used in sync with throttle and gear shift, but is vital to slow speed control. Turning Signal. The turning signal is usually a thumb selected switch. High/Low Light Switch. There is usually a toggle switch on the left side to control the headlights. Choke. Not on many larger, fuel injected bikes, but is still there on most carbureted machines. The Horn. Very important!

If anything mechanical should malfunction, there is typically no time to think. Reaction must be immediate, accurate and deliberate.

These are the major control points of a typical motorcycle and says nothing of other things like countersteering, time and space control, balance, scanning and a host of other things, all necessary for a good rider.

In my opinion, fine motorcycle riding is akin to dancing the tango with a steel partner at 55 miles per hour.

One Page at a Time, Part Three

Here I present day three of my little Page-A-Day experiment from 2006.

June 2, 2006 - One Page at at Time.
This is the last one in my experiment and honestly, I am not sure why this experiment only consists of three entries. Upon reading this, it is in my opinion, some of my best writing. It is far longer than one page. And... It scares the hell out of me.
...
Jeremy searched his lover's deep brown eyes for some form of recognition. Where years before he could easily find the essence of her life, her love, her existence, now they were merely bottomless pits.

Her soul was now an infinitely hollow space. No, it was not empty, simply devoid of life, love and existence.

Her thrashing and yelling and sharp threats had now died to blunted, indecipherable mumbles. Her almost incomprehensible behavior was no match for her self-brewed cocktail of alcohol, sleeping pills and morphine.

He was lucky tonight. She hadn't threatened his life or her own. She hadn't fallen into her drugged, comatose slumber while on the toilet or in the kitchen or in the car or smoking at her desk. While these events were not common, they did happen more than occasionally. And when these things did happen, Jeremy's soul was torn even more.

Nightmares of her irresponsible, inopportune slumbers haunted him. There was no escaping these echos of reality, firing synapses in his subconscious, slumbering brain. He would occasionally awake screaming or crying or yelling. She would sleep on, unconscious to the universe.

Her body now quiet of all conscious activity, he kisses her on the cheek. "Sleep well, my love," Jeremy whispered. Tears welled up in his eyes like blood seeping from new wounds.

But these were tears and they were from his soul. With the right pressure in the proper spot, tears and bleeding can both be stopped.

It was an early night, only 12:18 AM and she was blindingly asleep. He could finally relax.

The house, now peacefully quiet after nearly five hours of emotional, verbal and spiritual battery. After so many years of this abuse, the surface of his soul seemed to be entirely covered in scar tissue, impervious to almost any attack.

"I am blind," Jeremy mutters. The first shot of whiskey burnt going down. The second was better. "You are blind... you are blind... you are blind..." he counted out loud, walking a tight circle in the middle of the kitchen. These words, first yelled at him so many years ago, meant almost nothing now. He liked to hear the echo.

The kitchen was his domain. She used to enjoy cooking, but the void that killed her soul, took that as well.

The third and fourth shots tasted like water. "You are blind," Jeremy yelled.

Some people know but choose not to see. Some see but can't understand. Some have their eyes gouged out.

"You are blind!!!" he yelled.

Jeremy couldn't decide which category of blindness he fell into. Fifth and sixth shot, he didn't care.

One Page at a Time, Part Two

Here I present day two of my little Page-A-Day experiment from 2006.

May 2, 2006 - One Page at at Time.
Seven thirty nine. The smoldering sun claws its way up the eastern sky, burning everything it touches, save the natives. No humans prior to the industrial period would even consider this place as being habitable year round.

Heat is the Devil's friend. Snow and cold is a gift from above to balance the Devil's flames.

Jamie always wore white. She said it reminded her of winter with her grandparents in Wisconsin. The spatter of her would-be killer's blood on her white blouse brought a more primal feel to the cabin.

She knew, 'They won't try this again for a while, at last not with him.'

Looking out the window, lightly considering her would-be assassin, 'Poor bastard. If he doesn't make it to the hospital before nightfall, he is one dead idiot.'

Turning from the window, she changes her blouse and douses the cabin with cooking oil.

It's Interesting the Things One Finds

Yesterday I spent the day emptying a storage shed and going through some old boxes. Oh the things I found... Old pictures from when I was a kid, a set of SCSI drives, old books, old clothes, pictures of airplanes and study notes from my days of flying... and old memories...

...some of which I ran through the shredder. There was no feeling of catharsis as I had hoped. The action was purely mechanical. Maybe memories can't be shredded as easily as paper can be eaten by hardened steel teeth.

Anyway, one of the things I found was a notebook I started in 2006, before I started riding and before my divorce. My goal was just to write one page per day (which only lasted a few days). Some was fact, some was fiction, some was just babble. For your entertainment I present you, kind reader, with this short set of writings. You can decide if it is fiction or real. Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent and stupid and mentally ill. ;-)

I don't remember why I stopped. Perhaps I will start it again.

Here is day one -
April 25, 2006

Everyone makes mistakes. See, I can't even write correctly! I am smoking again. I hate that. I am at work's parking lot.

Brian stayed home sick again. Betty yelled last night. I had a nice chat with Ms. V. in the internet last night. Too bad she lives in Austria. I would like to meet her.

Why does my hand hurt when I write like this? Why do people buy big, inefficient vehicles and then complain about gas prices?

A page really seems long sometimes. This morning is nice out for a change.

Betty is driving me crazy, I think. Slipping. Do relationships make people feel like this? I don't know. Others say 'no,' but we are all individuals and different.

My hand hurts.

Relativity, Motorcycle Repair and a Little Life

So there I am; single, not hard on the eyes (so I am told), intelligent, fairly literate, good sense of humor, easy-going; and what am I doing on a Friday night in Las Vegas?

Working on my motorcycle project, of course.

This was milestone evening. No more disassembly could occur until the engine was removed from the frame. Even with everything removed, that engine weighs probably 175 pounds by itself.

As motorcycle repair manuals typically are, the one for my VX800 is quite terse. Accordingly, to remove the engine one must simply disconnect the right frame member (yes, the frame comes apart), disconnect the engine mounts and remove engine.

Likely with a bike lift and winch and tools common to motorcycle repair, these instructions may be sufficient. I require more explanation.

So, 8:00 PM rolled around and there was the engine and frame, clinging together by a single bolt as if they feared being alone. Over and over my mind pounded on the mechanics of lifting the engine, removing the last mount bolt and setting the engine down next to the frame.

Then I thought about something I read in "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". It is something I used to practice decades ago but since it is not a direct path from problem to solution and operated at 90 degrees to conventional problem solving techniques, it was left along the highway.

The concept of this problem solving technique is simple; understand the situation, limitations and requirements... and the go off and do something else. Don't think about it. Eventualy the solution will poke itself up through your consciousness.

In this case, the poking commenced about 30 minutes later. 'OF COURSE! Why remove the engine from the frame? Remove the frame from the engine!'

The result is the same, but the direction taken to effect the accomplishment is 180 degrees from what I was doing before. So, the engine was blocked up with some wood, a few twists on that last bolt, a little wrestling with the frame so it didn't fall into the plate glass window behind me, and...

Success!

Maybe the answer to complex problems requires a little absent mindedness.

Time for a New Helmet!

After reading Stacy's Full Face Helmet post and seeing the pictures there, a full face helmet was tops on my list of things to get.

Personally, I am a "Helmet anytime on the bike," sort of fellow. People who want to ride without a helmet ought to look at Stacy's blog post, linked above.

But, hey, if you are reading this and are a dyed in the wool, 'wind in the face', 'I don't need a helmet' sort of rider, that's cool with me.

One person's luck can be another's misfortune. In this case, according to what I have read on the Internet, UK based helmet manufacturer Arashi (Japanese for 'storm') has gone out of business. That being the misfortune, apparently Cycle Gear has a stock of helmets from this manufacturer and are liquidating their stock. Lucky for me and others intersted in an inexpensive full face helmet, they still have a reasonable stock available. (Cycle Gear Arashi Helmet)

So, Saturday morning I rode over to my local Cycle Gear and exchanged my $75 for an Arashi Turbo helmet and a reflective shield. Now, I don't know how I managed without a full face helmet.

It is lighter than my Scorpion Exo200, more aerodynamic and minimizes the updraft of air into my nose. There is less wind noise and the shield fits the helmet quite securly. There is only one drawback noticed so far; the visibility as compared to the Scorpion is somewhat less in the vertical plane.

The Arashi Turbo isn't fancy like an Arai or Shoei, with their advanced composite carbon fiber construction, removable inserts, high-tech ventilation systems and so forth. It is inexpensive, works well and is DOT approved. Been thinking about a full face helmet? This may be a very inexpensive way to save you jaw or front teeth should you be in a scrape.

Ride safe, all!

Those Silly California Legislators...

This has little to do with motorcycling or generally anything I usually post here, but this one just made me laugh in disbelief to the point that coffee nearly blew out my nose!

According to SlashDot, "California Assemblyman Joel Anderson plans to introduce a bill to force Google Earth and similar services to blur images of so-called 'soft targets' like schools, hospitals, churches and government buildings to protect them from terrorists."

YES! Let's make it more difficult for soccer moms to find the away games. Make it a pain in the ass to find the local courthouse to pay a parking ticket. And church? 'Bless me father for I have sinned... I was late for communion for the last three weeks because my map was blurry.'

Hospitals, now there is a good way to cut back on health care spending. Make it more difficult to find your local ER!

Incredible work, Mr. Anderson! Watch out there, Google and Rand McNally and California AAA. Before you know it, California may just be a blur west of the Mississippi. According to some, it already is.

Getting Noticed WhileOn The Road

I don't think this qualifies as ATGATT. This would definitely be an attention grabber but a bit too drafty for my liking.

Why Motorcyclists Hate Drama

Here are two numbers that really didn't surprise me: 540; and 36,400.

What are they? Well, I wanted to find an appropriate image for the topic of drama (i.e. Drama King or Queen) and tried Google Image search with the search string "sick of drama." The search yielded 540 images (plus or minus of course.) Then out of some morbid psychologically based statistical curiosity, I performed a web search... 36,400

Yes, I am single, divorced actually, and have little interest in searching out dates or flings or one night stands. That notwithstanding, I am a member of a biker oriented dating site, probably due to this same sort of curiosity. Over and over again, the words "no drama" or "tired of drama" or some mutation of that sentiment was associated with peoples' profiles.

Just for grins, here are a few comments from my motorcycling brain about drama...

Bikers would rather talk about compression ratios or handlebars or tire brands than listen to someone complain about how a ruined relationship 10 years ago causes them to sneeze every time they think about kissing.

A flat tire does not require a 45 minute dissertation on the choice of brands, tread pattern, or how good (or bad) a previous sex partner was.

It is irritating to other riders when someone in a riding group is trying to complain about their last girlfriend or boyfriend and their penchant for long tube socks, while riding at 75 miles per hour.

If we are camping and I say that I am going to go out and cut some wood, that is what I mean. It is NOT a euphemism for me going down to the single guy's/girl's tents and... ya...

A new set of rubber, means TIRES!

Male bikers discussing headlights, may indeed be discussing headlights!

And conversely, female bikers discussing bore and stroke are likely talking about pistons and cylinders!

If you don't like the way I am riding, then get off and find somebody else to ride with.

...

Just some idle thoughts from an idle motorcyclist on an idle Saturday night.

I Do Occasionally Surprise Myself

Here is the short part of the long part of the story. With the help of a factory manual, some persistence, patience, ingenuity and the folks at www.rebel250.com , my little Honda Rebel is running well again!

Mobile!!! I am Mobile on two wheels again!

And now, here is the long part of the short part of the story. While my bike sat immobile in my backyard, waiting for warmer weather, my mind wandered.

Did I push her too hard?

Can she fulfill my riding desires?

Was I simply lucky on my last trip that she did not suffer any major mechanical issues?

Over and over like an infinite recursive loop in the background, these thoughts ruminated and perked. More than once, "trade her in and get a Versys or SV650 or maybe a Sportster," went through my consciousness. It became not an idle concept after a while. The fact existed that she will always be a bike that had been repaired by an amateur with little or no experience in the science and art of motorcycle repair. And, not just any repair.

Oh, if it were that simple of a repair. By the time her engine was ready to reassemble, the saddle, tank, carb, battery, engine head, cam assembley, exhaust system, cylinders and other assorted items were neatly wrapped in well labeled bags or boxes, in an odd semblance of order under the patio roof. The most complex mechanical operation my fingers have taken part in since high school was a fuel injector replacement in my pickup last year.

Following the manual and help from other Rebel riders, she is now back together and running wonderfully again.

So, with a day off work, we ride around a bit, enjoying the sites and sounds and tactile input that only two wheel travel can provide. Off to the right, while riding South on Boulder Highway is the Ride Now Powersports dealership where she was purchased. I downshift and we pull into the parking lot.

About eight months ago I lusted after a Kawasaki Versys; even filled out the credit application and tried to trade my Rebel in for this odd, somewhat difficult to describe motorcycle. If you look back in my blog, I even discuss it.

Walking into the dealership today was more a fact finding function than an active search for another motorcycle. My Rebel is now purring along and my VX800 project will likely be consuming any spare time and money I have. No... No new motorcycles for me today.

I am there for information. Where do they take the old bikes they take for trade that cannot be resold? I am just curious. Who knows. Maybe with that information I might be able to turn up some pieces and parts for Vixen.

I start chatting with a sales person about the VX800 and how I am curious about their 'junk' bike disposal. Just when I am getting some information, one of the sales managers walk by, shakes my hand and promptly asks, "Did you see the user Versys we have?"

I thought, 'Nope, can't see that red Kawasaki resting there right behind you,' but I simply say, "Oh yes. Not interested in one right now."

"Well, how much do you owe on that Rebel? Just give me your Social Security Number and I will go back and see if we can make a deal."

I decline and he walks off with the intention of 'getting some numbers together.' Not interested at all, but if he wants to go run some numbers or watch motorcycle porn on his computer... whatever.

The sales person starts calling some other dealerships to see if they might have any old VX800s littering their garages. Roughly 10 minutes later the other fellow returns with a smile. "I have a great deal for you. I can get you on that Versys for only $6,500. We will take the Rebel in trade and roll it all into the loan."

I was getting ticked off. "I am really not interested right now. Maybe in the Summer."

"Well, if you would give me your Social Security Number, I will look at your little Rebel, get a payoff amount and move you on up to a bigger and better bike."

Stress was building... "I just spent a month repairing someone elses' screw-up on my bike. I am good with it right now."

"Well, I can get you on that Versys and it is in great shape! There is nothing wrong with that bike."

This is where the unexpected happened. Something just snapped. "Look, someone here or at the factory over-torqued one of the low torque head bolts and it pulled out of the engine case while in Kansas. I get it back here and Honda will not touch it for warranty service. SO, I spent a month tearing apart that engine, putting it back together and tuning it. Prior to that we spent three weeks together traveling to North Carolina and back. 5800 miles! I am not going to trade her anytime soon, if at all. Period!"

Ever the sales person, "Well, if you do change your mind, let us know, OK?"

He walks away and the sales person tells me that by some rare chance a VX800 shows up he will give me a call. I am not holding my breath.

My reaction still seems suprising. This attachment to a motorcycle, and the emotional response generated at the somewhat pressured prompting to trade her in for a different bike still suprises me.

Good Video

Ya, I am 42 years old, but I can like the Offspring, can't I?

North, South, East or West?

Where to, next?

A person I met on the ADVRider forum enjoys long trips on her motorcycle. Her situation is somewhat enviable from a rider's perspective. Every two years or so, she can build up nearly three months of vacation. Three months to ride her motorcycle where she pleases.

She does work hard for this opportunity. Works her ass off, actually.

Alas, not everyone has the opportunity to take three months off for a ride and still have a job. Personally, my limit is three weeks, and that is a rare maximum, granted to very few where I work. As a matter of fact, I am unsure the opportunity will be there again. If not, there will be no tears. The opportunity to do it once was fantastic.

So, where to? Assuming a maximum of two weeks with a slim opportunity for three, what direction should I point my motorcycle this summer? Some of my friends have mentioned the East Coast again, some suggest riding some West Coast highways. Texas maybe? Spend a couple weeks riding around Colorado and Montana? Maybe back to the Midwest.

A motorcycle rider's version of "Cabin Fever" seems to have taken over my winterized brain. Two motorcycles in different states of repair or disrepair (as the case may be) and the temperatures warming up is indeed difficult to bear.

So, Suggestions? Where to???

My Project Vixen

Just as a short note about my little project motorcycle. Yes, I bought what was left of a rather uncommon motorcycle, a 1991 Suzuki VX800. (my original post) It was a motorcycle that was a bit ahead of its time and was only sold in the United States for three years. Other parts of the world were more accepting of the concept this motorcycle put forth. It sold for nearly nine years in Europe and Australia.

She is a hybrid of a Cruiser (V-Twin Engine); Sport Bike (Styling and performance); Standard (Seating position) and Touring Bike (Range and highway riding performance). On many websites it is classified as a Standard/Sport, Sport/Touring or Naked Sport.

To me, she just looks sweet, even if she is in a poor state of repair. For those inclined, browse over to my Project Vixen blog. Updates there as necessary. I think it needs more pictures...

A Few Days Off

For three days, Saturday, Sunday and Monday, after a bit of confusion, I kicked back and relaxed my sore back. CL, if you ever read this, a million thanks to you, your beautiful boys and your boyfriend for the hospitality and the down-time. It was very much appreciated!

So, Saturday Night I was invited to "Girl's Night". This little event is usually a little loud and hosted on a rotating basis by people that work with my friend. She promised that there would be a very nice, single woman there to give me a back rub.

Well... As luck would have it, most of the people that are usually at these events were participating in a wedding, and as such, were not at "Girl's Night". What did that mean to me? No single women and no back rub. :-)

It was a fabulous time none the less.

...More later... need to go to work...

A week On the Road

Friday. Without a doubt, this was the most beautiful riding day of them all. I can see why there are many motorcycle riders on the East Coast of the US. Even on the superslabs, the scenery is wonderful!

The camera was still causing me all sorts of grief. But, on the bright side, I confirmed that my paycheck was deposited so when the opportunity presents itself, acquiring a new camera will not cause financial hardship.

Here are the few pictures that were retrievable from my camera. They were taken at a scenic area in Ohio or West Virginia. As is typical, the camera does not do justice to the spectacular colors and textures.

---

I arrive at my friend's house at nearly 10 PM. I really dislike riding at night. It's the visual stimulus; the feedback; the input.

North Carolina roads are fun... during the daylight. At night when I don't know where my destination is, in traffic, the roads are twisty and just a little unpredictable. I am not good enough yet to trust what I need.

Maybe that is something I need to do;
learn to trust what I need.

This was a long ride. New Castle, Indiana to Burlington, North Carolina. And, it was a beautiful one. Leaving Indiana there was a wonderful scent of pine and strawberries. Wonderful.

Ohio had the most friendly riders.

West Virginia, Virginia mountains were breath taking.

With out a doubt, Winston-Salem has the worst traffic anywhere!

Delays, Delays, Delays...

Yes, I will finish this ride report. There is a Vixen in my life now that needs a little TLC and I have offered it to her. She has quietly accepted. I must admit there is something obsessive about this relationship. The calls, the e-mails the late nights, the early mornings, the waiting for lunch time to make a call. Sitting through meetings thinking of her. Driving, and thinking of her.

So, you may be saying something like, "Who is this other person?" or "NO, Don't get wrapped up in a difficult relationship!" or "Man, I am never going to date you, Mr. Obsessive!"

Well, here is a picture...

This isn't my Vixen but it is the same model. A 1991 Suzuki VX800. Mine is, shall we say, temporarily inoperative.

Sitting and Thinking...

Sitting and thinking too long
has only one result

hemorrhoids.


--Coming up -- Another day of my trip--