Dating Site Humor

As I sit here eating lunch, wishing it were cooler outside, leafing through my e-mail, a friend mentions an internet dating site. Thoughts of updating my profile and maybe checking things out come to mind. But then, as is typical, my mind turns to humor.

So, here are some definitions and comments on the possible true meanings of the things some date-seekers post. Hope you get at the minimum, a few chuckles out of this. No disrespect meant to anyone, especially those who drive VWs.

Humourous Dating Site Definitions Explained!

• Retired ~~ Has not been able to hold a job for the last decade.
• Well Off ~~ Average bank account is $100.
• Owns his own place ~~ Lives out of his VW Microbus.
• Enjoys traveling ~~ See above item.
• Multilingual ~~ Can swear in Spanish, Italian and French.
• Takes care of his parents ~~ Has lived in their basement for the last 25 years.
• Likes walking on the beach ~~ ...looking for lost change.
• Enjoys the outdoors ~~ The VW Microbus needs to be fumigated once a year.
• Full head of hair ~~ Beware the dreaded comb-over.
• Easy going ~~ Enjoys a LOT of herbal supplements.
• Enjoys growing things ~~See above item.
  
• Athletic ~~ Jumps to conclusions on a daily basis.
• Likes loud music ~~ Volume button is broken on the radio.
• Enjoys quiet evenings by a fireplace ~~ The VW Microbus gets cramped once in a while.
• Studied Pharmacology ~~ Currently or previously a drug mule.
• Frugal ~~ Water is free, right?
  
• Doesn't watch TV ~~ Either cannot afford cable or satellite service, or does not know how to operate a remote.
• Enjoys technology ~~ Uses an iPhone or Droid to text friends and post on FacecBook about 50% of the time while on dates.
• Enjoys reading ~~ While Calvin and Hobbes can be greatly entertaining, it is not literature.
• Old fashion ~~ Doesn't believe in brushing teeth and showers once a week.
• Rides bicycles ~~ Necessary when the VW Microbus breaks down.
• Enjoys a drink now and then ~~ Has a separate refrigerator for the beer and box wine.
• Well dressed ~~ Could mean many things. When combined with 'Frugal', this indicates a lot of ill-fitting t-shirts that have faded pictures of nearly naked ladies. When combined with 'Old fashioned', this indicates they wear the same clothes they did in high school.
• Enjoys pets ~~ Free-range ants, cockroaches and a bees nest do not constitute 'pets.'
• Likes weight training ~~ 12 ounce curls.
• Enjoys running ~~ Especially after the police discover he is 'Easy going.'
• Extravagant ~~ Spends all their money and overextends their credit on crap no one needs and they will use once, if that.
• Has a large investment portfolio ~~ His drinking buddies bought him two shares of harley Davidson stock when he turned 40.

OK, I need to get back to work. Can anyone add to this list???

That Wasn't So Bad

After a day or two to reflect on my carburetor issue, and all the help from the kind folks on the VX800 e-mail list, it was time to dig in. Honestly it was not all that difficult. The success or failure of the carburetor cleaning is yet to be seen but the process of disassembling, cleaning and reassembling the front unit was not very difficult.
One big problem with this carb became evident within moments. The diaphragm was not seated properly when the previous owner had the carbs rebuilt. Honestly, it is a wonder this one worked at all.

There is the rear carb yet to clean, and the success or failure only to be determined once both are strapped back onto the engine. Sometimes a task that seems daunting is honestly rather small after a day or two of hydration and reflection.

Plans and Limits

"Failure is nature's plan to prepare you for great responsibilities." -Napoleon Hill
"It is an ill plan that cannot be changed." -Latin proverb.
Those two quotes seem quite apropos at the moment. There is no anger nor even a hint of irritation; just a tired, hot confounding pressure in the back of my head, radiating out to my knees and fingers.

For the last three days I have pushed against the oppressive Las Vegas summer heat and aching pressure in my fingers and knees in an effort to clean and check the carburetors on my VX800. They were successfully removed, cleaned and reattached, all without blood loss or single broken part.

At about 7PM yesterday with the thermometer displaying 105, I mounted the tank, turned on the petcock, opened the choke, turned on the key and hit the starter. She cranked and cranked and barely caught once and then backfired. And that was the end of my work for the day. The battery was dead from excessive cranking and there was a puddle of fuel on the ground below the front carburetor.

Apparently I had maladjusted the rear carb so that the needle valve would not allow sufficient fuel into the bowl, and I had not cleaned the front carb enough as it was still overflowing. The course of action was obvious. The air boxes and carburetors had to come off again. The carbs had to be opened up and cleaned and inspected and readjusted again.

And my 40-something body is telling me, 'enough pushing for now.' All spare time for the past four days, excepting the times where temperatures were over 115, has been spent in the garage. My (according to my doctor) pre-arthritic fingers and knee are telling me to take a day or two off.

Maybe it is time to have someone else work on a thing or two. Would it soil my desire to rebuild this bike if I paid someone to take care of the carburetors for me?

Minimally, she does have new fuel lines, a few new vacuum lines and I know how to get in deep if necessary.

Patience, Grasshopper

So, Friday I picked up another VX800. For only $200 I bought a 1990 (first model year) donor bike. Plans... What are plans if they aren't bent or broken a little?

The initial plan was to get this bike and use it as a test-bed of sorts. The previous owner told me that just before it was put in storage about six years ago, the entire engine was rebuilt; both top and bottom end. The rear carburetor started giving him issues so he just parked it in one of his storage units and drained the fuel.

Over that time he sold, gave away or had stolen several pieces from the bike. There was no fuel tank, no plastics, no speedometer worm gear on the front wheel and no exhaust. Perhaps a challenging project at best for many. Given I already have two 1991 model year bikes, this was a purchase dream come true.

On Saturday I started cleaning her up and checking parts. It occurred to me that rather than just using this as a parts bike, why not just build on this one instead? Sure, I have a great bit of time invested in the other VX carcass. It was cleaned, painted, clearcoated, received a new steering head bearing set, completely re-wrapped wiring harness and likely quite a few other things.

Optimistically I picked up a fresh battery, oil filter, oil and battery strap from Nevada Suzuki. After returning home I replaced the oil and coolant. Carefully attaching the battery, all the electronics seemed to check out except for the brake light switch for the front brake. No problem, I had a working one. The choke cable was seized but an afternoon soak in WD40 took care of that. Plugs were giving off a good spark, oil pump was able to generate acceptable pressure when cranking, cylinders and valves were holding compression; it was a very promising and productive day.

After mounting the exhaust system (incorrectly the first few times I may add), the temp had soared to near 115 in my garage. As much as I really wanted to continue working, continuing would have likely been a little dangerous.

This morning, bright and early at 5:30 I couldn't sleep. There was an excitement in the air. I wanted to hear her run, as admittedly unlikely as that could be. Bikes usually don't crack right off after a six year nap in storage.

By 6:45 I had a mixture of SeaFoam and fuel in the tank and had installed a new fuel line and fuel filter. After taking my daughter to work, it was time. With fire extinguisher close by, I mounted the tank and connected the fuel line. With the petcock open, all fuel lines and electronics were methodically checked. We have GO.

The choke is open, key on, clutch in, I hit the starter. Within five seconds of cranking the front cylinder starts catching. It was exciting but not elating... yet. Then the rear started to catch. Blue and white smoke and all sorts of dust and dirt start flying out of the exhaust. A few twists of the throttle and the bike is showing life! She is limping and coughing and sputtering but is alive.

Now I am elated!

The blue smoke is from old junk hydrocarbons that have accumulated in the engine. The white is from the SeaFoam. All is good. Then I smell fuel. That is something I didn't want. As sublime an experience this was for me, attention to every little thing was necessary.

Under the bike was a large pool of fuel. Hitting the kill switch and turning on my vent fan I go over everything. After consulting a few people it was obvious. The floats or needle valves were gummed up. This caused fuel to be pumped out the carb breather tubes and enrich the air/fuel mixture to a point where running the engine would be a severe challenge.

After several further running tests, each time the engine running smoother and more confidently, it was obvious the carbs needed to be removed and cleaned. The temp was about 115F. As much desire there was to continue, as much drive as there was to hear her growl again, doing so would have been, as it would have been on Saturday, dangerous.

Yes, she growls. Two separate people heard her run and they both used the same adjective; growl.

Before the dis assembly process began, I HAD to do it. After a few minutes the plastic pieces and seat were mounted. She is tall, narrow, she growls, balance is better than any bike I have ever been on, and in the saddle, she feels wonderful.

Motorcycle Quote of the Day

"As recent memory serves, the most I have felt at home is while on two wheels, riding a solitary road."

Close Enough

While attending college, one is exposed to quite a few jokes about their course of study. Here are some of my favorites:

Q. How did the programmer die in the shower?
A. He read the shampoo bottle instructions: Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

How many programmers does it take to change a light bulb?
None – It’s a hardware problem.

What’s the difference between drug dealers and computer programmers?

Drug Dealers	Computer Programmers
Refer to their clients as “users”.	Refer to their clients as “users”.
“The first one’s free!”	“Download a free trial version…”
Have important South-East Asian connections (to help move the stuff).	Have important South-East Asian connections (to help debug the code).
Strange jargon: “Stick,” “Rock,” “Dime bag,” “E”.	Strange jargon: “SCSI,” “RTFM,” “Java,” “ISDN”.
Realize that there’s tons of cash in the 14- to 25-year-old market.	Realize that there’s tons of cash in the 14- to 25-year-old market.
Job is assisted by the industry’s producing newer, more potent mixes.	Job is assisted by industry’s producing newer, faster machines.
Often seen in the company of pimps and hustlers.	Often seen in the company of marketing people and venture capitalists.
Their product causes unhealthy addictions.	DOOM. Quake. SimCity. Farmville. Facebook. etc...
Do your job well, and you can sleep with sexy movie stars who depend on you.	Damn! Damn! DAMN!!!

One of my favorites, while not specifically about computer scientists is told and written in various levels of sexuality and innuendo. Here is a fairly clean version:

A man and a woman are at opposite ends of a basketball court. Every 5 seconds, they walk HALF the remaining distance towards the half court line. A scientist says, "They will never meet, it is useless"; an engineer says "Pretty soon, they'll be close enough for all practical purposes".

Maybe this has some deeper connotations. We may never meet a specific goal or complete a project exactly as desired or designed. However we just may get close enough for all practical purposes.

Baby

Yes, this made me giggle for some reason. Maybe I am just loosing it; or maybe random guffaws at spam is a sign of a healthy mind. Eh... Who knows. OK, here it is.. I am still chuckling...

Subject: I LOVE YOU
From: Baby

Hello, (miraclelovedd@hotmail.com)
My name is miracle, i saw your profile today when i saw searching in google search and became interested in you,i will also like to know you more,and if you can send an email to my email address,i will give you my pictures here is my email address (miraclelovedd@hotmail.com) I believe we can move from here! Awaiting for your mail to my email address here.
miracle.

Don't Cry Like A Bitch When You Feel the Pain

It was out of no where, a sucker-punch, a cheap glancing shot. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as the demon scratched at it's grey cell walls. He wanted attention, an he received it.

Walking out of the bookstore for a smoke and inner communion with the jail keepers, he hit again. This time not a glancing blow but one directly to the center of my back. He meant business this time.

But this time it was different. Straddling my bike, bringing this steel and rubber and chrome beast alive, we prepared. Hot asphalt and blood red setting sun swayed to my request; we rode.

What Will the Neighbors Think?

And so, there was wrenching to do.

A friend of mine will be borrowing my Honda Rebel until her bike is fixed. It would not be prudent handing over the key before being certain the bike is in fine working order.

Over the past two months or so I have been wrenching on her here and there. The crankshaft oil seal needed to be reseated. Engine, fuel tank and carbs cleaned out. Spark plugs changed. That sort of thing.

Well, the rear brakes needed to be checked. With only about 6,000 miles on the front brakes, they are fine. However, those rear brakes felt soft and somewhat ineffective. So, my task for last night was to remove the rear wheel and check the brakes. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Rebel, the rear wheel has drum style breaks, necessitating the removal of the wheel just to check the darned things.

Alas, I do not have a bike jack or stand. A buddy of mine who lives in the same apartment complex does have a bike stand/jack but it is far too wide. Being designed more for large cruisers and dirt bikes, making it fit the Rebel would have been time consuming and tricky.

So, I MacGyver'ed it. With three tie-down straps anchored to the rafters, and some spare rope, there came to be a bike winch of sorts. I would lift the bike up a little at a time while my daughter tightened each tie-down strap. Suspended, the bike was honestly rather stable and secure. Not that I would recommend this method for larger bikes but it worked well with my little 350 pound bike.

Should probably remove the tie-downs and straps before the neighbors see them. Wouldn't want them to think anything funny is going on in there. :-)

Motorcycle Plastic Repair - Adventure in Plastic Welding

Aside from a few other things going on in my life, I have been busy experimenting with chemical plastic repair on my project bike. And guess what... SUCCESS!
If you are so inclined, you can read of my plastic repair success on my VX800 blog, part 1 and part 2.

NOW! New and improved with Part 3 - Repairing a completely broken piece.

No Offense and No Disrespect, But...

Nearly a decade ago when I started to grow out my beard and hair, my loving work associates started something that still follows. "No offense Ken, but you look like Captain Caveman."

And so I did.

It was a crazy time where I work. Projects and new clients were coming fast and hard. This particularly crazy morning was after a 24+ hour stint in the office; this co-worker was certainly sharp in their observation.

But it was said in jest, in good humor. There was no malice intended.

Perhaps some kind blog reader out there can clarify something... Why do some people preface a patently offensive or disrespectful comment with "No offense or disrespect intended, but..." ???

"No offense, but you stink and look like Captain Caveman." And your point?

"No offense or disrespect but you ride like shit, can't write a decent program to save your ass and the grammar you write with reminds me of my brother's three year old. No offense of course." STFU!

No one said this specifically, it is merely an example. Over the course of the last week many hours have been spent reading public comments on different news articles. This seems to be a new theme, attempting to divert responsibility for comments that indeed offensive or disrespectful. Perhaps it is a societal facet becoming more evident.

Regardless, no offense or disrespect intended, it is disingenuous, irritating and I just don't like it.

Abby Sunderland Saved - Soap Box Out Again!

Abby Sunderland Rescued

Not terribly certain why these comments are rubbing me the wrong way, but DAMN am I irritated. Here are some from this CNN article with my personal response.

"yngvi No, those that put time and effort into rescuing her, have done more of value than she will ever do." So... You can look into the future? Violate the laws of physics that easily and know what she is going to do? Let's talk about the stock market.

"demmieKrat Sad that so many here wouldnt spend tax payer money to rescue a "thrill seeking" teen but would gladly spend tax payer money to repair any gluttonous fast food junky ... that plops their azz in the USA" -BRAVO!!!

"alboze

It is no wonder we are witnessing the demise of the once great USA. With all the wooses that are criticising a heroic effort of an extremely brave pioneer, the great heroes of the past must be turning in their graves. You should be ashamed of yourselves! The boat is licenced and has all the safety e... more

It is no wonder we are witnessing the demise of the once great USA. With all the wooses that are criticising a heroic effort of an extremely brave pioneer, the great heroes of the past must be turning in their graves. You should be ashamed of yourselves! The boat is licenced and has all the safety equipment required by the Coast Guard to make it eligible to be rescued in the event of failure. Are you guys saying that rescue services should be reserved for commercial vessels in the South Indian Ocean? That would be whalers and toothfish poachers and of course a few extreme tourists who have a lot of money. For the people who are afraid to leave the comfort zone of 911, there are adventurous people out there who have a life. It is great people like Abby who once made America great and sissies like you that will result in America's fall. Well done Abby!" - BRAVO!!!

"yngvi You forgot to mention that the boat was not the right type for this kind of journey and older, more experienced sailors have said it was foolhardy to do in winter." #1 - wrong. That type of boat was designed and built specifically FOR the open and rough seas. Foolhardy... Many people thought the Wright Brothers were foolhardy, and Christopher Columbus and Magellan.

"MalTempo Priceless daughter. Yes, the price is the cost to taxpayers. How many more of these daredevil imbeciles must we pay to rescue?" So, we should not pay to rescue someone? Should the Search and Rescue check credit scores? "You have an emergency? What is your credit card number?"

"ghj Does anybody remember that little girl Jessica from a number of yrs. ago? She was 7 or so. Flying across the country w/ her dad. They crashed and died. 'nuff said'." I have flown. I have lost a friend, a trained, seasoned instructor and FAA check pilot when he was instructing a student. Wresting control of an aircraft from a 7 year old is NOT hard to do. Training accidents happen regardless of the student's age.

--------------

Some of these people's comments truly irritates me. I think perhaps I will do something dangerous and adventurous rather that sit on my couch watching television or play video games while eating fast food and let my brain atrophy. I'm riding.

The Abby Sunderland Effect

If you have not already read the news about Abby Sunderland, here is a brief bit from The Guardian Weekly (click here to read the entire article).

"Rescuers launched a desperate search tonight for a 16-year-old Californian girl attempting to sail round the world single-handed, after she set off distress beacons in stormy conditions in a remote part of the Indian Ocean.

Abby Sunderland's parents lost satellite phone contact with her today after she had told them she was repeatedly knocked down in 60 knot-winds and 50 foot seas, about 2,000 miles east of Madagascar. An hour later the US coast guard notified them that two emergency satellite beacons on her 40ft yacht, Wild Eyes, had been activated."

I hope she is rescued and at worst, has a minor broken bone and minor case of hypothermia. It is my opinion that she shows a great deal of determination, personal ambition and Joie de vivre; all key properties of an adventurer.

The comments posted by readers of articles about this unfortunate situation range from supportive to uninformed to imbecilic. Unfortunately, the majority of comments fall into the later portion of the spectrum.

Since this is my little stage on the interwebs, I am going to take my little, rarely used soap box, and make a few comments about the comments others have left. Registering on a dozen websites to make comments just is not that productive.

So, my fair readers, here is what I read:

• This sentiment was posted so many times it strengthened my belief that the pseudo-anonymous public would rather speak an uninformed opinion than read and perhaps change a personal opinion. Many, many places, ad nausium, people posted their concern that so much money is and will be spent paying for the search and rescue. First of all, there are insurance policies for this particular situation. If she has it, great; you people lamenting, "...Oh, now WE are paying for her..." can ST%U. Secondly, there are loose international treaties covering Search and Rescue and fiduciary responsibilities. Google "search and rescue treaty," do a little reading, learn a little.
• This is one of my favorites: pirates. "THAT IS PIRATE AREAS AND THEY KNEW IT!" "The only thing she has taught people is sailing around the world by yourself in pirate infested waters is stupid." "Did someone else, such as a pirate, board the boat?" OK, all you pirate folks, check out here: The Live Piracy Map. Abby is roughly between the southern-most tip of Africa and Australia, and just a little south. That would put her about 3,000 miles from known pirate activity. Next.
• "...Horrible parents..." "...child endangerment..." "...the parents should be held responsible..." blabla friggin' BLA! Let's do a little logic, reasoning and abstraction here, shall we? It is my understanding she was a fairly experienced, certified and trained sailor; not a 'weekend at the Yacht Club' sort of person. So, let's extract that into an abstraction; person A is certified to perform B. Further, person A was trained to perform B. Now, let's fit that abstraction into something more concrete; drivers licenses. A 16 year old gets a driver's license. But there is more, say that person had already been driving for years, and trained for years to drive. If that person proves themselves as being a competent driver, should they be restrained from driving and exercising their certification? And further, if there is an accident while they are driving, are the parents to be held responsible?

Seriously, some of these comments are aggravating me near the point of anti-social behavior. Should we keep our children indoors, on the couch playing video games in a nice child-proof sterile home, or out in the world? Adventurers such as Abby push at our preconceived notions of things. In order for the human experience to be expanded, the envelope must be pushed.

Honestly, the comments some people have made are disgusting, inappropriate, ill-conceived, uneducated, illogical and disrespectful. Everyone has a right to their own opinion. Here is mine...

I hope she is rescued and tries it again, several times as a matter of fact. People such as her do not typically come about (as proven by the majority of comments I read.) She is an adventurer and it seems to me her parents did what they could to prepare her for this journey; and for that they should be applauded.

It seems to me the majority of the public commenting on this story would rather live meek, safe lives while judging people and their actions behind the pseudo-anonymity provided by the internet.

Soap box is put away and I am checking out for a while.

Vixen Has Her Brain Stem!

No abstractions or metaphors here. This was a hot, busy Sunday.
Vixen has her brain stem! I ripped her wiring harness apart, scrubbed it down, taped it up in protective wrapping and assembled the front end. HOLY COW! Read all about it here if you are so inclined.

She is definitely coming together.

Found When Not Looking

It has been said that to truly find something, one must not be searching.

While at Nevada Suzuki last week, the owner and I were discussing my little VX800 restoration project. I had ridden in to say 'hi' and order the radiator guard mounting screws, headlight assembly dampener and ignition module boot/holder/rubber thingie.

Last year he told me of his VX800. In the 90's he had several and ended up selling all but one. His VX had engine problems and a fellow rebuilt the entire engine in exchange for some money that was owed. The owner told me she ran like a top for a little bit then the rear carb began malfunctioning. He had other things to worry about and put the bike in a storage container.

Over the last ten years or so he sold off the headlight, exhaust system a few other items.

After buying my first VX about a year and a half ago, and subsequently deciding to rebuild her, I started searching for a donor bike. I became nearly obsessed. For months I would check CraigsList and E-Bay and the local classified ads and even the auto auction houses.

Late in 2009 I made the choice to back off. If one became available, all the better; and there by chance I found a donor in San Diego. By merging VX #1 and VX #2 I now have a complete frame, front end, wiring harness, drive train, seat and tank.

Oh but that engine. Both engines in my garage combined could not operate properly. Minimally about $400 worth of parts will be required to make these engines merge into a functioning internal combustion engine.

And, after the analysis of the situation and needed parts, I did not search any of the places I used to. Sure, occasionally I would peek to see if anything was out there, but there was minimal stress; plenty of other things to deal with.

While talking with the owner, he tells me his VX is out of storage, and at his home workshop. He is ready to sell it. The engine should be in good shape and simply require a good cleaning; same with the carbs.

I don't honestly know much about her; She may be a match, or with all the different minute variations, she may not be. But it is worth looking; worth the time thinking of the possibilities.

I know where she can be found; the more apropos question is "Where do you want to ride?"

Ohhh... My aching Fingers...

Today was a busy, painful day. My pickup is having some clutch, transmission and electrical issues so a few hours this morning were spent wrenching on it. All that could be found wrong on this first cursory review was a broken vacuum line and a loose crankcase breather pipe.

My hands were hurting. So, I retired to my bedroom to take some ibuprofen and play a little on-line game a neighbor introduced to me. It is a first-person-shooter game that, even for this non-gamer can provide a fun little escape.

In this game I like to snipe. Not much movement is involved, just good aiming. Well, one of the other players was a little irritated with me. "Why don't you move around more? Get a higher score?"

"Well," I replied, "my fingers aren't terribly young anymore and don't move that well. Actually, they hurt."

After the ibuprofen kicked in, I went back down to clean some nuts and bolts from my bike on a wire wheel. After about a dozen my fingers started to hurt again; and I wondered... 'Just how much punishment have these fingers been through?'

And, so I retired to my computer to figure it out. Follow me if you will...

• I have been a computer programmer since about 1988; that's 22 years.
• If I have worked on average five days a week for 22 years, that's 5720 days.
• An average programmer produces about 300 lines of code per day. There have been days when I produced no code, simply doing research or data manipulation or testing or debugging. Then there are the intense days when I have produced over 600 lines of code. So, I am sticking with the 300 line average.
• And, so, over the course of the last 22 years, I have created an approximate total of about 1,716,000 lines of programming code.
• Let's assume the average line of computer code is about 25 characters. Many are longer, many shorter. This is just a good ballpark number.
• This yields a total of 42,900,000 characters my two little hands have produced.
• Further, divide this by four fingers (Ignore the thumbs) and that gives us 5,362,500 characters or keystrokes per finger for the last 22 years.

That's a LOT! Is it any wonder my fingers hurt?

The Life of a Telecommuter

Well, onto a more concrete, less abstract topic... Telecommuting.

For the past month or two I have been working at home. Being a professional computer programmer does seem to lend itself to this particular mode of employment. There is also the 'cool factor...' In front of me is two laptop computers; one sporting a Windows 7 running on a seven core 64 bit Intel processor, tickling nearly eight giga-bytes of RAM. The other is sporting Windows XP Pro on a 2 GHz Celeron processor. Both have dual LCD screens, one of which is a high-def wide-screen format.

Then upstairs is my Linux file server and desktop 'play' system. Not bad on the 'geek nirvana' scale.

However there are some danger points in this mode of employment; namely, lack of saddle time.

Commuting to work yielded about 30 miles of daily riding. Now I barely get 30 miles of riding each week. That is not something easy to adjust to.

Then there is the damned kitchen. I wake up about 5:00, make coffee and take my daughter to work. I am usually in front of the computer by 6:30. Walking into the kitchen for more coffee is an exercise in self control. Ooooo the snacks and munchies that await in cupboards and on refrigerator shelves.

After the first three weeks, I started getting healthy snacks like apples and carrots and the like. But still, thoughts of cookies tickle my brain stem. Ooooo... I could whip up a batch in no time and have them baked before lunch. Who would know??? :-P

Putting the Parts Together

Honestly, this post has been tumbling around for a while, just waiting for the proper words and metaphors and the right day. From time to time, a fellow blogger and friend, Ms. M and I play off each others posts. I am not sure who started it, but she wrote an entry that inspired this one. While perhaps a bit delayed, writing this post before now would have been premature.

Rebuilding a motorcycle requires patience, time, a little money and determination. There are few shortcuts. Less patience requires more money. Less time requires more money. Less determination and the bike may never be rebuilt.

More money bypasses many of these things. With more money, people can be hired to rebuild the engine or powder coat the frame or even perform the complete rebuilding process. Doing this, however, tends to distance one from the bike; it creates a chasm of sorts.

I have a lot of parts. I have a lot of projects.

Let's say for a moment A person, an old bike mechanic walks by my garage and notices all of the parts, and the nearly complete, almost rolling frame.

He offers his assistance but tells me it will cost a beer now and then. And, the old parts I have lying around need to be thrown away, "The only way these parts are gonna fit together is if ya pitch the ones ya don't need. If ya pitch a few good ones, don't worry. We can get others or make new ones that fit even better."

He tells me it may be tough and there is no guarantee she will run when she is all back together, but he will do what he can.

Sure, I may do fine without his assistance, but here is a fellow offering to help. He loves these old bikes and wants to see this one run again.

So, do I throw out a few good parts, buy him a few beers and accept his assistance or continue down my current path, lugging old parts where I go?

Do I accept the short term hardships, challenges and possible losses to get her running well again or continue down the safer course?

Little Restraint Needed

As much as I enjoy my Sportster, and as much as I enjoy my little Rebel, there is a special place in my being for adventure riding. Sure, one can partake in riding adventures on any bike, my little cross-country adventure on my Rebel was proof of that. However, available time for such a ride is rather rare; I am only glad my boss rides and could be convinced a three week vacation was in order.

The back roads, the narrow paths, the solitude and beauty of areas less traveled has, as far as can be remembered, held a special place. While moving into my apartment, an old notebook was found at the bottom of a box. "Over 60" was scrawled in red permanent marker over its fading green cover. Inside, on the first few pages were plans and route ideas I had formulated in the mid-90's for a trip above the 60th parallel. Optimistically it was to take place in the year 2000.

Perhaps it was a bit of escapism from the facades of Las Vegas, or perhaps other things. Regardless, the year 2000 involved no travels to the Northwest Territories or the Yukon. It was spent in a certain layer of insanity.

That being neither here-nor-there at this point, I want to ride the trails and gravel roads. Both my Sportster and Rebel can do it, albeit poorly. They were not meant for this sort of riding.

A bike on my 'short list' of next stable additions is the Suzuki DR650 line of dual-sport bikes (pictured above). Last night was spent reading reviews and history of this line, and I was hooked. The DR's are light, simple, efficient, durable and popular. Alas, due to all of these fine attributes, the resell value is quite high, even for those made in the mid 90's.

Going out to the garage to grab a beer I see my project bike. 'What are you thinking??? Your adventure bike is right there! Patience!'

Sure, she is a bit heavy, weighing in at about 450 pounds dry. Sure, she is more of a 'standard' than dual-sport. Yes, it is a V-Twin, not a thumper or inline twin like other adventure bikes. But, what am I thinking? SHE IS the adventure. It has already begun! For the most part, a bolt-by-bolt rebuild by a novice bike mechanic, reconstructing a unique bike with a few additional tweeks to make her off-road worthy.

Fantasy adventures may be fun, but the concrete adventures are the ones that stay with, and are a part of us.

An 'Ill-Advised' Ride on a Honda Rebel

Yes, the urge was there. Two years ago I took my little Rebel on an ill-advised ride from Las Vegas to Kitty Hawk and back. Last Saturday I took her on another 'ill-advised' ride. We went out on some desert roads to the South East of Vegas. Damn, that was fun. Maybe I need to get a real adventure bike.