Dec 19, 2008, ©Copyright 2008, Roadracing World Publishing, Inc.
From a press release issued by American Honda:
Torrance, CA: American Honda announced today that the 2008 Honda Hoot will bring to a close 15 years of what has been one of the most successful motorcycle rallies in history. Over the years, almost a quarter of a million guests attended the Honda Hoot which was born in the hills of Ashville North Carolina and eventually moved to Knoxville, Tennessee. At the first event, a little over 3000 attendees enjoyed what would grow to become one of the largest rallies in North America
The Hoot set new precedence for what a motorcycle rally should be, offering not only wonderful opportunity to test ride new products but also focusing on family fun and growing the industry from the ground up. Based on the current economic crunch which may have significant impact on our customers during 2009, American Honda will take this time to seek out new and innovative ways to engage with our customers so that we can continue to ride together.
American Honda extends our deepest gratitude to the more than 1300 volunteers who helped make the Honda Hoot a success and to all our event sponsors, to our two host cities, Knoxville, TN and Asheville, NC, and especially to all the good people who helped make the Hoot such a great event.
V-Strom 1000
Another object of my moto-lust. I won't be sure until I take one for a test drive, however.
Read more about it.
Why do YOU ride?
I've collected a bunch of responses to the question: "Why do you ride" and I've incorporated these responses into the head of this blog.
THE ATGATT RAT
WHY DO YOU RIDE? BECAUSE I CAN. BECAUSE I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. IF I HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT TO YOU, YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND. BASIC TRANSPORTATION. I LOVE THE FEEL OF MY KNEES IN THE BREEZE. IT'S THE CLOSEST THING TO FLYING WHILE YOU'RE STILL ON THE GROUND. BECAUSE IT MAKES ME FEEL ALIVE. BECAUSE IT'S DANGEROUS. BECAUSE IT'S FUN. BECAUSE IT SAVES ME MONEY ON GAS. BECAUSE IT'S COOL. BECAUSE MOTORCYCLES SAVED MY LIFE
I would love to have more responses to include. Add yours as a comment to this blog post.
Underwhelming Gerbing
I bought a Gerbing heated jacket and temp controller online.
Took it out for a 15 mile run, including some highway running, at about 33 degrees.
I would have to say that I'm underwhelmed with the gear. If I use my imagination, I can *imagine* that it's warmer on FULL HEAT than when it's off.
I'm wondering if I'm doing something wrong.
a. The heated jacket liner might be too loose.
b. There might be too much leakage of air through my leather jacket. It has a thinsulate liner, but I'm sure there are better sealed garmetns against the wind.
c. Could it be too weak a battery or too weak an alternator?
I expected FULL HEAT to be too much when sitting at a stop light. It was barely noticeable.
At the end of the ride the jacket liner was body temperature ... no warmer.
Took it out for a 15 mile run, including some highway running, at about 33 degrees.
I would have to say that I'm underwhelmed with the gear. If I use my imagination, I can *imagine* that it's warmer on FULL HEAT than when it's off.
I'm wondering if I'm doing something wrong.
a. The heated jacket liner might be too loose.
b. There might be too much leakage of air through my leather jacket. It has a thinsulate liner, but I'm sure there are better sealed garmetns against the wind.
c. Could it be too weak a battery or too weak an alternator?
I expected FULL HEAT to be too much when sitting at a stop light. It was barely noticeable.
At the end of the ride the jacket liner was body temperature ... no warmer.
His and Her Diaries
HER DIARY:
Tonight, I thought my husband was acting weird.
We had made plans to meet at a bar to have a drink. I was shopping with my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment on it.
Conversation wasn't flowing, so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk. He agreed, but he didn't say much. I asked him what was wrong; he said, 'Nothing.' I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said he wasn't upset, that it had nothing to do with me, and not to worry about it. On the way home, I told him that I loved him. He smiled slightly, and kept driving.
I can't explain his behavior. I don't know why he didn't say, 'I love you, too.' When we got home , I felt as if I had lost him completely, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there quietly, and watched TV. He continued to seem distant and absent.
Finally, with silence all around us, I decided to go to bed. About 15 minutes later, he came to bed. To my surprise, he responded to my caress, and we made love. But I still felt that he was distracted, and his thoughts were somewhere else. He fell asleep- I cried. I don't know what to do. I'm almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster....
HIS DIARY:
My Harley wouldn't start today, but at least I got laid.
Tonight, I thought my husband was acting weird.
We had made plans to meet at a bar to have a drink. I was shopping with my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment on it.
Conversation wasn't flowing, so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk. He agreed, but he didn't say much. I asked him what was wrong; he said, 'Nothing.' I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said he wasn't upset, that it had nothing to do with me, and not to worry about it. On the way home, I told him that I loved him. He smiled slightly, and kept driving.
I can't explain his behavior. I don't know why he didn't say, 'I love you, too.' When we got home , I felt as if I had lost him completely, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there quietly, and watched TV. He continued to seem distant and absent.
Finally, with silence all around us, I decided to go to bed. About 15 minutes later, he came to bed. To my surprise, he responded to my caress, and we made love. But I still felt that he was distracted, and his thoughts were somewhere else. He fell asleep- I cried. I don't know what to do. I'm almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster....
HIS DIARY:
My Harley wouldn't start today, but at least I got laid.
Harley brings the XR1200 stateside!
My non-Harley riding budds are watching this story unfold with interest. This Sportster was previously available only in Europe. 
V30 Progress Report
I'm working on my wife's V30 on my vacation this week. I bought a replacement headlight and speedometer cup on eBay. I already had a spare LED turn signal to match the one that got smashed. I'm still missing footpegs to replace the one that got bent -- bent but still usable. I figured I'd swap mine from the V45 and the buy cool aftermarket footpegs for my own V45. She gets the hand-me-down footpegs.
The headlight is from a CB919. I'd already modified her bike in preparation for a conversion to a round headlight. Much easier to find round headlights than rectangular, plus I like the look better. Plus, many more options for windshields when you have a round headlight.
The speedometer cup is New Old Stock, never installed, plastichrome speedometer cup from a 24 year old motorcycle that was only manufactured for 2 years. eBay is amazing
I got it running. I'm taking the time with the headlight apart to solder and shrink wrap all the custom wiring that I did earlier in the year. I should have it buttoned up and ready to ride later today.
The headlight is from a CB919. I'd already modified her bike in preparation for a conversion to a round headlight. Much easier to find round headlights than rectangular, plus I like the look better. Plus, many more options for windshields when you have a round headlight.
The speedometer cup is New Old Stock, never installed, plastichrome speedometer cup from a 24 year old motorcycle that was only manufactured for 2 years. eBay is amazing
I got it running. I'm taking the time with the headlight apart to solder and shrink wrap all the custom wiring that I did earlier in the year. I should have it buttoned up and ready to ride later today.
No bike for me
I took a 150 mile trip to Valparaiso, IN today to look at the GL1100 Standard I "bought" on eBay. Took it for a spin around the block. No pick up ... roll on the throttle and it thinks about moving for a while, then finally eases its way forward.
It was a lot rougher than the seller had described in the auction listing. It had obviously sat outside .. rust on the frame and on the engine and chrome. I had expected some scratches and dents, but hadn't expected rust.
The dash lights didn't work, one of the turn signals didn't work, there was a puddle of oil on the right valve cover, there was some funky looking after market wiring for the headlight and horn. There were cracks in the engine block ... might've just been cracks in the paint, might've been worse. The exhaust pipes were rusty. The tires were dry rotted.
Not the bike for me. Lots of problems, maybe minor, but not worth what I "bid" on it.
But bottom line is, even if it was perfect, the bike didn't perform like I wanted. I'm surprised that even though it was 200 lbs lighter than the GL1100 Interstate, it was just a lackadaisical about getting off the line. Whether this is true of all naked wings, or just this one, doesn't matter.
I turned around and went home. I walked away from the deal. Came home without the bike.
So my stated objective was to "get the naked goldwing out of my system." I think I accomplished that, without ever owning one. Now I'm thinking about what my next bike will be.
It was a lot rougher than the seller had described in the auction listing. It had obviously sat outside .. rust on the frame and on the engine and chrome. I had expected some scratches and dents, but hadn't expected rust.
The dash lights didn't work, one of the turn signals didn't work, there was a puddle of oil on the right valve cover, there was some funky looking after market wiring for the headlight and horn. There were cracks in the engine block ... might've just been cracks in the paint, might've been worse. The exhaust pipes were rusty. The tires were dry rotted.
Not the bike for me. Lots of problems, maybe minor, but not worth what I "bid" on it.
But bottom line is, even if it was perfect, the bike didn't perform like I wanted. I'm surprised that even though it was 200 lbs lighter than the GL1100 Interstate, it was just a lackadaisical about getting off the line. Whether this is true of all naked wings, or just this one, doesn't matter.
I turned around and went home. I walked away from the deal. Came home without the bike.
So my stated objective was to "get the naked goldwing out of my system." I think I accomplished that, without ever owning one. Now I'm thinking about what my next bike will be.
Billy Joel's Goldwing
Billy Joel has an extensive collection of motorcycles ... one of which is a classic Goldwing Standard.
Birthday Bike
Bought another bike on eBay.
As I mentioned last week, my wife cracked her little V30. This week I bought a 1982 Gold Wing Standard on eBay - just in time for my birthday.
This is my second time trying a GL1100 -- this time it's the unfaired version.
I was after a GL1100 Standard when I bought the GL1100 Interstate last time. My goal was to strip it down to a Naked Standard. But, I decided that the fully faired versions lose a lot of their value when they are stripped. Since I wasn't sure if I would like the handling/performance of the end result, I was reluctant to make alterations to it. I sold it after a year without having stripped it down.
This time I figured I'd buy one that was already a standard. Been watching for one for a while.
My wife was supportive. She gets the better end of the deal from her perspective ... she'll be riding my 1994 V45 while I am riding the 1982 GL1100. I'll get this whole "naked gold wing" thing out of my system. I'll get to see if I like it or not. If not, I can probably turn it around and sell it for at least what I paid for it, maybe more. Long as I don't crack it up.
As I mentioned last week, my wife cracked her little V30. This week I bought a 1982 Gold Wing Standard on eBay - just in time for my birthday.
This is my second time trying a GL1100 -- this time it's the unfaired version.
I was after a GL1100 Standard when I bought the GL1100 Interstate last time. My goal was to strip it down to a Naked Standard. But, I decided that the fully faired versions lose a lot of their value when they are stripped. Since I wasn't sure if I would like the handling/performance of the end result, I was reluctant to make alterations to it. I sold it after a year without having stripped it down.
This time I figured I'd buy one that was already a standard. Been watching for one for a while.
My wife was supportive. She gets the better end of the deal from her perspective ... she'll be riding my 1994 V45 while I am riding the 1982 GL1100. I'll get this whole "naked gold wing" thing out of my system. I'll get to see if I like it or not. If not, I can probably turn it around and sell it for at least what I paid for it, maybe more. Long as I don't crack it up.
She's Down, But Not Out
My wife called me up at 3 oclock today to tell me she had laid her VF500C down.
She tangled with in-the-street railroad tracks, and took a tumble. It was low speed and she was wearing her gear. (She is MRS. ATGATTRAT after all.)
I asked her to write an account of it, and I'm forwarding it to the list. I'd like your thoughts about narrow angle railroad crossings, and how to approach them.
She's in good spirits, maybe some bruising. We've been meaning to spring for some armored mesh overpants for her, but at least the draggin jeans, while not providing padding, provided abrasion resistance. She'd have kissed asphalt without her full face helmet, which will have to be replaced. (The only thing gear-wise needing replacement from the encounter.)
Here's her account:
"I had just gotten onto a street that has train tracks running down the center. I'd only gone half a block and probably wasn't even up to third gear yet when the tracks that go down the middle veered to the right and across my lane at about a 45 degree angle, at most. Though I've been over those tracks before without incident, this time I didn't make it.
"I'd forgotten that they cut across the lane like that. When turning across them earlier in the day I'd made sure to come to a stop and then turn at almost 90 degrees across and through the intersection. But with them veering across the lane in front of me, I slowed down and braced myself mentally to cross them. They always make me nervous because I'm not quite sure of myself on how to handle them. I thought I was going to angle back across them but somehow didn't. I saw and felt my tire hit the rut and go down in it and the next thing I knew the bike was being whipped out from under me to the right and I was
heading forward and to the left. I landed with most of my weight on my left hand and knee. I also felt the chin of my helmet hit.
"Since I was well geared up, I just got a little scuffed. My bike however, took the worst of it. The headlight is broken. There's glass somewhere on the road. The speedometer is cracked and bent downward. The footpeg is wrenched backward and the saddlebags are pretty scarred up. There's also something wrong with the electricals because it won't attempt to start and it's hard to turn the ignition and lights off.
"I feel like I'd jump right back on and head down the road if my bike were running. But I'd really like to know exactly how I should handle tracks like that. While standing with my wounded bike, I watched a Goldwing rider whip right across that same spot without hesitation. He may have angled across them quickly, but I didn't catch it (I was still talking to the very nice police officer who came to help). I'd really like to know what's the best way to handle angled tracks like that - especially if I encounter them somewhere when I'm going more
than 30 mph."
I'm proud of her for wanting to jump right back on. I've got a new winter project for myself -- restoring her VF500C back to rideable condition.
I'd welcome any feedback, I'll pass it along to her.
She tangled with in-the-street railroad tracks, and took a tumble. It was low speed and she was wearing her gear. (She is MRS. ATGATTRAT after all.)
I asked her to write an account of it, and I'm forwarding it to the list. I'd like your thoughts about narrow angle railroad crossings, and how to approach them.
She's in good spirits, maybe some bruising. We've been meaning to spring for some armored mesh overpants for her, but at least the draggin jeans, while not providing padding, provided abrasion resistance. She'd have kissed asphalt without her full face helmet, which will have to be replaced. (The only thing gear-wise needing replacement from the encounter.)
Here's her account:
"I had just gotten onto a street that has train tracks running down the center. I'd only gone half a block and probably wasn't even up to third gear yet when the tracks that go down the middle veered to the right and across my lane at about a 45 degree angle, at most. Though I've been over those tracks before without incident, this time I didn't make it.
"I'd forgotten that they cut across the lane like that. When turning across them earlier in the day I'd made sure to come to a stop and then turn at almost 90 degrees across and through the intersection. But with them veering across the lane in front of me, I slowed down and braced myself mentally to cross them. They always make me nervous because I'm not quite sure of myself on how to handle them. I thought I was going to angle back across them but somehow didn't. I saw and felt my tire hit the rut and go down in it and the next thing I knew the bike was being whipped out from under me to the right and I was
heading forward and to the left. I landed with most of my weight on my left hand and knee. I also felt the chin of my helmet hit.
"Since I was well geared up, I just got a little scuffed. My bike however, took the worst of it. The headlight is broken. There's glass somewhere on the road. The speedometer is cracked and bent downward. The footpeg is wrenched backward and the saddlebags are pretty scarred up. There's also something wrong with the electricals because it won't attempt to start and it's hard to turn the ignition and lights off.
"I feel like I'd jump right back on and head down the road if my bike were running. But I'd really like to know exactly how I should handle tracks like that. While standing with my wounded bike, I watched a Goldwing rider whip right across that same spot without hesitation. He may have angled across them quickly, but I didn't catch it (I was still talking to the very nice police officer who came to help). I'd really like to know what's the best way to handle angled tracks like that - especially if I encounter them somewhere when I'm going more
than 30 mph."
I'm proud of her for wanting to jump right back on. I've got a new winter project for myself -- restoring her VF500C back to rideable condition.
I'd welcome any feedback, I'll pass it along to her.
The future of Honda V4's
Honda has just pulled the covers off a radical new concept motorcycle at the Intermot show in Cologne, Germany. Technically, there isn't much here that's real, but there's still plenty to dissect. Honda is obviously feverishly working on a new V4 engine and that will soon show up in a production bike. Rumor has it that the Japanese company is taking another look at oval pistons, which would allow for more valves and larger combustion chambers. Could this powerplant show up in a new Interceptor?
Purdue University Student Motorcyclist Killed By Semi
This story from the Chicago Tribune
"Bradley Trifone, who was on a full ROTC scholarship, was stopped at a red light on U.S. Highway 52 in front of the truck, driven by an Indianapolis man. When the light changed, the driver accelerated, apparently not seeing the motorcycle, Lafayette police said.
Trifone died at the scene. The driver has not been cited. Police said they are waiting for the results of lab tests to see whether drugs or alcohol played a part in the crash."
ATGATT is not enough, you must stay vigilant!
Trifone died at the scene. The driver has not been cited. Police said they are waiting for the results of lab tests to see whether drugs or alcohol played a part in the crash."
ATGATT is not enough, you must stay vigilant!
Keep your eyes peeled in your rear-view
mirror(s) and stay in gear when stopped at traffic lights.
Motorcyclist Killed At Bonneville
Can't let this go unremarked.
This is the real sacrifice to the gods of speed.
This is the real sacrifice to the gods of speed.
In the movie "World's Fastest Indian", Burt Munroe had a shelf in his garage with burnt and broken pistons and other engine parts, with a caption "Sacrifices to the god of speed."
B-King Review
My moto friends are all talking about the B-King.
It's cool, I guess. I like it cause it's different. Wouldn't be caught dead on one!
Cool enough to stop and take notice when I see one, but not a bike I want to own.
Catch The Color
Indiana Motorcycle Rides blog has an interesting article about a fall color ride in Indiana that I may have to check out.
Suffering Feet
Went on a 250 mile tour with 3 friends/former coworkers on Saturday (BMW R1150R, Honda VF750C, Suzuki DR650), discovering some great motorcycle roads.
My biggest complaint from the ride is my tired feet. After about an hour in the saddle my feet would be so tired of hangin off the footpegs. I ended up trying to work my toes, point them up, point them down, over and over again, just to keep my feet from aching.
I'm wearing cheap general purpose leather boots ... not moto specific boots. They are extremely comfortable boots, i can and do wear them all day, and walk for miles in them.
I'm wondering what I need to change to fix this. I don't know if the pain is caused by balancing my size 11's, with a flexible rubber sole, across a magna footpeg. I will have to experiment with some options. I suppose I could try running boards (SHUDDER!) or forward controls, highway pegs, or maybe better boots.
Anybody have any experience with this that could shed some light?
My biggest complaint from the ride is my tired feet. After about an hour in the saddle my feet would be so tired of hangin off the footpegs. I ended up trying to work my toes, point them up, point them down, over and over again, just to keep my feet from aching.
I'm wearing cheap general purpose leather boots ... not moto specific boots. They are extremely comfortable boots, i can and do wear them all day, and walk for miles in them.
I'm wondering what I need to change to fix this. I don't know if the pain is caused by balancing my size 11's, with a flexible rubber sole, across a magna footpeg. I will have to experiment with some options. I suppose I could try running boards (SHUDDER!) or forward controls, highway pegs, or maybe better boots.
Anybody have any experience with this that could shed some light?
Joan Jett and the Orange County Choppers
I had no idea this was such an old old Joan Jett song. It wasn't one that I had been familiar with ... not like "I love rock-n-roll" which EVERYBODY knows.
But I saw the video for American Chopper and enjoyed it. Then I watched like an entire season of American Chopper, listening to this song as their theme song, and only then did I finally hone in on the lyrics, and then FALL IN LOVE with the song.
I don't care if ya think I'm strange, I ain't gonna change
I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
You're living in the past it's a new generation
A girl can do what she wants to do and that's
What I'm gonna do
An' I don't give a damn ' bout my bad reputation
Oh no not me
An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
Never said I wanted to improve my station
An' I'm only doin' good
When I'm havin' fun
An' I don't have to please no one
An' I don't give a damn
'Bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me
Oh no, not me
I don't give a damn
'Bout my reputation
I've never been afraid of any deviation
An' I don't really care
If ya think I'm strange
I ain't gonna change An' I'm never gonna care 'Bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me
Oh no, not me
Pedal boys!
An' I don't give a damn
'Bout my reputation
The world's in trouble
There's no communication
An' everyone can say
What they want to say
It never gets better anyway
So why should I care
'Bout a bad reputation anyway
Oh no, not me
Oh no, not me
I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation
You're living in the past
It's a new generation
An' I only feel good
When I got no pain
An' that's how I'm gonna stay
An' I don't give a damn
'Bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me
Oh no, not
Not me, not me
But I saw the video for American Chopper and enjoyed it. Then I watched like an entire season of American Chopper, listening to this song as their theme song, and only then did I finally hone in on the lyrics, and then FALL IN LOVE with the song.
I don't care if ya think I'm strange, I ain't gonna change
I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
You're living in the past it's a new generation
A girl can do what she wants to do and that's
What I'm gonna do
An' I don't give a damn ' bout my bad reputation
Oh no not me
An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
Never said I wanted to improve my station
An' I'm only doin' good
When I'm havin' fun
An' I don't have to please no one
An' I don't give a damn
'Bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me
Oh no, not me
I don't give a damn
'Bout my reputation
I've never been afraid of any deviation
An' I don't really care
If ya think I'm strange
I ain't gonna change An' I'm never gonna care 'Bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me
Oh no, not me
Pedal boys!
An' I don't give a damn
'Bout my reputation
The world's in trouble
There's no communication
An' everyone can say
What they want to say
It never gets better anyway
So why should I care
'Bout a bad reputation anyway
Oh no, not me
Oh no, not me
I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation
You're living in the past
It's a new generation
An' I only feel good
When I got no pain
An' that's how I'm gonna stay
An' I don't give a damn
'Bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me
Oh no, not
Not me, not me
Slip sliding away
Seems like the trouble I have with traction on the V45 is breaking loose under rapid acceleration on wet pavement.
Happened again today. This time, with my ME880's. Last time it happened was maybe March or April of 07, right after I got the bike, when I was running on stock tires -- Bridgestones?
Back then I attributed it to my unfamiliarity with the bike and its power. Having just transitioned from a Wing, I wasn't used to the rapid acceleration.
This time, I was just riding home in the rain. Tired of sitting in the rain, creeping up to the 4-way stop. I suppose I cranked on it hard. Might've hit a spot of grease in the middle of the intersection.
Luckily I kept it upright. A little fishtailing to jar me back to my senses.
Home safe.
Happened again today. This time, with my ME880's. Last time it happened was maybe March or April of 07, right after I got the bike, when I was running on stock tires -- Bridgestones?
Back then I attributed it to my unfamiliarity with the bike and its power. Having just transitioned from a Wing, I wasn't used to the rapid acceleration.
This time, I was just riding home in the rain. Tired of sitting in the rain, creeping up to the 4-way stop. I suppose I cranked on it hard. Might've hit a spot of grease in the middle of the intersection.
Luckily I kept it upright. A little fishtailing to jar me back to my senses.
Home safe.
Mileage Log
| VF500C | Carolyn | |
|---|---|---|
| 8/13/04 | 16960 | Purchased |
| 6/24/05 | 17351 | 391 |
| 7/8/05 | 17436 | 476 |
| 7/20/05 | 17495 | 535 |
| 7/29/05 | 17589 | 629 |
| 8/21/05 | 17748 | 788 |
| 12/31/05 | 17928 | 968 (Ted rode about 600) |
| 6/3/07 | 19865 | 2905 |
| 9/1/07 | 20358 | 3398 |
| 9/1/08 | 21844 | 4884 |
| VF500C | Ted | |
|---|---|---|
| 9/20/04 | 29072 | Purchased |
| 6/24/05 | 29224 | 152 |
| 7/8/05 | 29397 | 325 |
| 7/20/05 | 29521 | 449 |
| 7/29/05 | 29642 | 570 |
| 8/21/05 | 30093 | 1021 |
| 12/31/05 | 31307 | 2235 |
| 6/1/06 | 32300 | 3228 Parted Out |
| GL1100I | Ted | |
|---|---|---|
| 6/17/06 | 11770 | Purchased |
| 6/3/07 | 17569 | 5779 Listed for sale |
The Magna Maintenance History is being documented elsewhere, in some semblance of order, here.
Incredible Moto Photo Blog
I found a wonderful moto-photo blog called "The Oasis Of My Soul". The photographs are compelling.
Proposed Route: Terre Haute
My motorcycle riding buds and I are planning another day trip.
Proposed route from Monrovia to Terre Haute
View Larger Map
Proposed route from Monrovia to Terre Haute
View Larger Map
Indiana Motorcycle Roads
For those planning on attending Indianapolis MotoGP, I just found this site which had some interesting day trips and stuff out of Indianapolis.
http://www.liveindiana.net/motorcycle/
http://www.liveindiana.net/motorcycle/
VTEC Everywhere? What?
Reading the Honda.com promotional information about the VTEC engine, I spotted a blatant factual error.
You'd think Honda would get the facts right in their own propaganda.
"Indeed, VTEC today serves as the foundation of every Honda 4-cylinder engine in the world. "
I can think of lots of four-cylinder Honda engines on the production line today, in the dealers showroom today, that do not have VTEC.
You'd think Honda would get the facts right in their own propaganda.
"Indeed, VTEC today serves as the foundation of every Honda 4-cylinder engine in the world. "
I can think of lots of four-cylinder Honda engines on the production line today, in the dealers showroom today, that do not have VTEC.
Motorcycle Safety Tip: Remember to duck!
I suppose we could call this a motorcycle safety video. Remember to duck!
I'm a little leery of these videos ... it's so easy to make things appear in a video that never happened in real life. This one seems legit.
I'm a little leery of these videos ... it's so easy to make things appear in a video that never happened in real life. This one seems legit.
Race To The Clouds
Fellow Sabmaggot Pete posted some pics of his recent trip in Colorado high country. Beautiful stuff ... almost enough to make me want to buy a dual-sport or adventure bike. 
HJC Breath Box Review
The ATGATT Rat: HJC Breath Box Review:
I was pretty excited when riding buddy and former coworker dlunt stumbled across my blog by accident and posted a comment.
He posted this photo and his own helpful suggestions. He solved the sunglasses issue by buying an amber colored visor.
See The Motorcycle?
A picture is worth a thousand words.
The Honda rider was traveling at such a 'very high speed', his reaction time was not sufficient enough to avoid this accident. Swedish Police estimate a speed of ~250 KM/h (155 mph) before the bike hit the slow moving car side-on at an intersection. At that speed, they predicted that the rider's reaction time (once the vehicle came into view) wasn't sufficient enough for him to even apply the brakes The car had two passengers and the bike rider was found INSIDE the car with them. The Volkswagen actually flipped over from the force of impact and landed 10 feet from where the collision took place.
All three involved (two in car and rider) were killed instantly. This graphic demonstration was placed at the Stockholm Motorcycle Fair by the Swedish Police and Road Safety Department. The sign above the display also noted that the rider had only recently obtained his license.
At 250 KM (155 mph) the operator is traveling at 227 feet per second. With normal reaction time to SEE-DECIDE-REACT of 1.6 seconds the above operator would have traveled over 363 feet while making a decision on what actions to take. In this incident the Swedish police indicate that no actions were taken.
SLOW DOWN AND LIVE.
Bikes And Floyd
I like motorcycles, and I like Pink Floyd, but I have to say that this video, like this song, goes absolutely nowhere.
This video is cool in that the videographer admits to his own shortcomings. The video opens with the rider catching up to his buddies, who've pulled over to wait for him to catch up.
He says, "I can't keep up with you guys."
They take off again, and over the course of the remainder of the video, the rider gets left behind. By the end of the video, he is again alone. Everyone else has left him behind.
I find this endearing, I suppose, because I identify with it. Most everyone else I ride with has been riding longer, and takes more risks than I do. So, I frequently get left behind, or at least feel hard-pressed just to keep up.
Loud Pipes Suck
I rode to work today, like usual, and scored a primo parking spot. I arrived before the Hardley Ableson who likes to park in that spot. Having parked my bike, I was leaving the parking garage on foot. He passed me riding his chrome monster.
Still high from the ride in, I acknowledged him with a nod. Instead of nodding, or waving, he replied by cracking open the throttle with that straight-piped beasty right next to my eardrums. In the parking garage. In other words, instead of saying "hello" he said "f*** you".
If I hadn't been late for a meeting, I'd have followed him to his parking spot and told him what I thought of his impotent chrome-crusted turd of a bike and his blatant disregard for my hearing.
But instead I swallowed my anger and went to work. My ears literally hurt for the next 30 minutes.
Wouldn't you know at the end of the day the same bastard is leaving work the same time as me, and cracks open the throttle of his straight-piped chrome-crusted turd again just as he passes me.
Maybe on his planet, eardrum damage is an acceptable greeting. On my planet, it is high treason.
Instead of enjoying my ride home I seethed with anger and thought of all sorts of things to do or say to this jackass.
I just had to get this off my chest. Hoping that writing about it would be cathartic.
Still high from the ride in, I acknowledged him with a nod. Instead of nodding, or waving, he replied by cracking open the throttle with that straight-piped beasty right next to my eardrums. In the parking garage. In other words, instead of saying "hello" he said "f*** you".
If I hadn't been late for a meeting, I'd have followed him to his parking spot and told him what I thought of his impotent chrome-crusted turd of a bike and his blatant disregard for my hearing.
But instead I swallowed my anger and went to work. My ears literally hurt for the next 30 minutes.
Wouldn't you know at the end of the day the same bastard is leaving work the same time as me, and cracks open the throttle of his straight-piped chrome-crusted turd again just as he passes me.
Maybe on his planet, eardrum damage is an acceptable greeting. On my planet, it is high treason.
Instead of enjoying my ride home I seethed with anger and thought of all sorts of things to do or say to this jackass.
I just had to get this off my chest. Hoping that writing about it would be cathartic.
Harley Headlight Modulator
Caging it today, headed home I wanted to change lanes, checked the mirror. Attention was drawn to a motorsickle with modulating headlight.
I didn't change lanes, and as he drew closer I saw that it was not a headlight modulator at all. It was a Harley. The modulation was caused by the vibration which shook the entire front end of the bike. It varied with his RPM.
Hmmmm ... I thought it was just a side-effect of the single-crankpin engine design. Now I see it's a safety feature!
I didn't change lanes, and as he drew closer I saw that it was not a headlight modulator at all. It was a Harley. The modulation was caused by the vibration which shook the entire front end of the bike. It varied with his RPM.
Hmmmm ... I thought it was just a side-effect of the single-crankpin engine design. Now I see it's a safety feature!
The Old Man and the Motorcycle
The Old Man and the Motorcycle
by Liam Rector
The old man had inoperable cancer.
The old man's wife was dead
And the old man's kids didn't like him,
So the old man sold most everything
And bought a motorcycle
And the old man got back
To the backroads, to the roads he'd so
Enjoyed as a young man,
And the old man figured what the hell,
I'm sick I don't have long I might
As well die falling off this thing
Somewhere: this affordable, this moving,
This very roaring thing on these last roads.
by Liam Rector
The old man had inoperable cancer.
The old man's wife was dead
And the old man's kids didn't like him,
So the old man sold most everything
And bought a motorcycle
And the old man got back
To the backroads, to the roads he'd so
Enjoyed as a young man,
And the old man figured what the hell,
I'm sick I don't have long I might
As well die falling off this thing
Somewhere: this affordable, this moving,
This very roaring thing on these last roads.
Burr Oak Trip Report
My second successful Burr Oak trip is behind me.
I use the annual pilgrimage to Glouster, OH as a time to reflect on my riding career. The trip to Glouster itself cuts through a rich cross-section of my life...
In 2006 I made my first attempt at Burr Oak, aboard Raven, my 1984 VF500C. It was my first out of town trip. I'd been commuting on it for one entire season before this attempt. That trip ended with the death of Raven in Dayton, OH, on Saturday morning. And, a tail-between-my-legs trip back home aboard a trailer. Had to call my wife to come pick me up in Dayton. Honey, bring the trailer.
By the time the next year rolled around, I had already bought, put 6000 miles on, and sold a 1982 Goldwing Interstate. I had just ridden it on an 800 mile trip a few weekends earlier. Foremost in my mind last year was how inadequate the VF750C was to touring, compared to the Wing. It did shine in the twisties, though.
By the time this year's trip rolled around I had made some improvements to the tour-ability of the VF750C. After Charlie let me try his Mustang Seat last year, I bought one for myself this year. And, I added a memphis shades windshield.
I still envy Charlie's forward controls and pullback risers -- ergonomic enhancements that would probably suit my 6' 0", 80-year-old frame. (True, on the clock I've only got 41 years, but under the hood, I've got about 80 years. So says my orthopedic surgeon...)
The trip over was less painful than the year before. It's only May, so I opted for leather instead of mesh -- a decision that I regretted. I left at 9 am on Friday, and slabbed to Shelbyville, IN on I-74. I wanted to try the eastern part of Indiana on a locally-favored motorcycle road, IN-44. Turns out that *most* of IN-44 east of Shelbyville, IN is unremarkable -- the best parts of IN-44 are west of Shelbyville and are the subject of other trip reports of mine. It was straight-shot "prairie run" from Shelbyville to Rushville to near Connersville.
East of Connersville to Liberty, IN things got just a little more interesting. Nothing like Athens County Ohio, but not a straight shot either. At the State Line, IN-44 becomes OH-725, which I took east. It was interesting for a while, through Camden and Gratis.
However my high hopes for OH-725 went mostly unfulfilled. My hope was to avoid the superslab this time, and try to pick an interesting non-interstate route. I wouldn't say that I succeeded in that quest -- OH-725 goes through basically south Dayton suburbs; I'd have made better time on I-70.
At Spring Valley a short jaunt north on US-42, then US-35 east from Xenia all the way to Chillicothe. So much for my desire to avoid superslabs -- alas US-35 is a limited access divided highway, interstate riding without the formal designation.
US-50 east from Chillicothe to Athens was better -- mostly 2 lane, with things getting twistier as I headed east. Athens was a gas stop, and then north on OH-13 to Glouster, and OH-78 east to Burr Oak.
I arrived right in time for food. Parked the bike, took off the helmet, gloves and jacket and stood in chow line. Apparently since "His Philness" is known for showing up at dinnertime, folks joked that at first they thought I was him, based solely on the timing of my arrival.
Familiar faces and warm welcomes from folks I hadn't seen since last year. Met Mike Seidel and Pete Karasz, my cabin-mates. Despite my inquiries about "beer on bike" I arrived without a drop. I think I was more concerned about arriving in time for dinner when i past the convenience store in Glouster -- I didn't procure any liquid refreshment. After the meal, Carl Custer saw my sad and sober countenance, correctly surmised the problem and the remedy. Promptly appeared with three bottles of his personal stash. My disposition improved greatly as I quenched my thirst.
I heard tales I hadn't heard before, about RDS's encounter with drunken dope-smoking hostess in BF Nova Scotia. Saw pretty pink sparkles and smoke bombs by the fire, courtesy Rooster. Not sure why I was fall-down drunk after just four beers -- but I was. I staggered off to bed. Perhaps being dehydrated on the trip made me more susceptible. Perhaps the approaching head cold I didn't want to admit I was getting. At any rate, I was still wise enough to avoid that nasty home-brew that was being passed around.
Next morning was scattered showers early in the morning. Breakfast and waiting for the rain to pass. Some attempt at breaking and entering first by Ozzy -- who was locked out of his cabin -- and later by Adventure Ed, who was thin enough to be passed through the window into the kitchen, from there to unlock the front door of the cabin. Good times.
Somehow, in the waiting for the rain to clear, and not being sure where to go, I turned around and found myself the lone interested rider. Others had left already, by the time I was ready, those who were still around declared they were not going to ride at all.
Unable to drum up any interest in an eastward ride, I took off solo toward McConnellsville on OH-78. I lunched at the Blue Belle diner in McC, and decided that Ohio pork tenderloins cannot hold a candle to the ones in Indiana. (For Pork Tenderloins, I recommend the D&D Restaurant in Franklin, IN ... which is on that great Indiana road, IN-44, but I digress.)
The wait staff at Blue Belle was, however, better looking than their Indiana counterparts. Having filled my stomach, I again turned east along OH-78 all the way to Caldwell. Fueled up in Caldwell, backtracked along OH-78 west to OH-83 south, through Waterford to Watertown, to pick up tha wonderful discovery of a road, OH-676. This road reminds me of Brown County Indiana -- you can be traveling in four directions at once -- up, down, left and right.
Last year I had been warned off of OH-555, and had been -- probably inaccurately -- convinced that it was beyond my skill levels. This year I knew I was up for it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. There was, of course, no way I could keep up with Mr. Ross or Mr. Ryder, or probably 75% of the folks there, but still I knew I could ride a little of OH-555, and have a blast doing it.
I rode OH-555 from OH-676 north through Chesterhill, up to where I picked up OH-78 again.
This time, before I returned to camp, I gassed up in Glouster, and found a 6-pack of Sam Adams. (Wrapped, on advice of the group, discretely in brown paper before being strapped to the pillion seat.)
I stowed the beers in the fridge on my return to camp, and went to look for Katherine, who had the night before graciously offered me a ride on her pre-wrecked VFR.
Had she changed her mind, having seen me in my drunkenness the night before?
No.
"Do you still want to ride the VFR?" she asked, then, looking askance at me, added "...assuming you haven't had anything to drink yet..."
I said, "No I haven't, because I was hoping to ride that bike."
I hopped aboard the VFR, and had what Ryder so aptly describes as a "Where The F*** are the Footpegs" moment.
Compared to the Magna, the VFR handles like a dream. It is controlled by pure thought. A merely incline of the head causes the bike to steer in the direction I want. I can see the appeal of this. I immediately felt better in my lower back -- the rearset pegs tipped my pelvis and relieved pressure on the low back.
"Hey, this could work! This could be my next bike!"
But after a mere 10 miles -- west on OH-78 and north on OH-13 -- the pain began in the shoulders. The ergonomics, even of the so-called "Barcolounger" of sport bikes, will not work for my 40/80-year-old frame.
I came back with a grin on my face. Phil sees me dismounting the VFR and said, "Have we made a convert of you?"
Unfortunately no. Still searching for suitable ergonomics. Upright seating with a slight rearset to the pegs looks like it might do it. Not sure if that puts me in Triumph Speed Triple territory, or BMW R1200R territory, or GoldWing territory. I already know the Wing ergos suit me ... though not its overall demeanor.
Delicious dinner -- again. Afterwards, though I was feeling under the weather, I looked around long enough to find Carl Custer, and introduce him to the Sam Adams I had bought in Glouster. "Thanks, Carl, for sharing beer last night with a fellow maggot in his time of need!"
I finally succombed to the head cold I'd been trying to deny I was getting. Saturday night's celebration was cut short, I headed to bed.
Pete K was gone before I even thought about awakening. Next morning by the time I arrived, breakfast was nearly vaccuumed up but I did still manage to eat well. Last night's bratwurst had become this morning's breakfast sausage.
Mike S was a gracious host at the cabin, gave me a spare set of earplugs and some cold remedy tablets he had in his personal stash. Mike took off, I downed cold tablets and black coffee, trying to wake up enough for the trip home. At 11:00 I pointed Jezebel toward the west, and left Burr Oak again for another year.
Leaving Burr Oak I headed west on OH-78. I was determined to find better roads westbound than I did in my eastbound trek. OH-78 did not disappoint. OH-78 to Nelsonville, a short jaunt north on US-33 to catch OH-278 and head west again. OH-278 to OH-56 west, through the Hocking Hills area. A good ride, despite the unexpected road work and sitting and waiting in full gear on hot asphault for 10 minutes. Ugh.
OH-56 was good up to Laurelville. I stopped for gas in Laurelville, and pulled into a parking spot next to a Virago. The Virago's owner, in his shorts, flip-flops, T-Shirt, and no helmet, eyed me in my head-to-toe gear. I expected some snide comment, but instead, he spotted the "Honda V-Four Magna" emblem on the side of the tank.
"A V4!" he exclaimed, like he had never heard of the concept before.
"Yep!" I said.
"Wow," he said, "That must have incredible power!"
I searched his face for the slightest inkling of sarcasm and saw none. He gave every indication of being truly impressed. I wanted to say, "You think a 750cc V4 is impressive?!?! This is the smallest steed in the modern-era V4 herd! You should try an Interceptor, or an ST."
But instead, I said, "It's fun! A sportbike engine in a cruiser chassis." More or less true, and an easy catch-phrase to toss out there, for the sake of conversation.
"Wow, cool!" he said. "When did Honda come up with a V4!?!"
I cannot fathom this. How can you not have heard of a V4? Again I searched his face for sarcasm.
"In the early 80's," I replied. I gave him a brief overview, through the demise of the Magna in 2003 and the current king of the Honda V4 Hill, the ST1300.
"Wow," he said, "Leave it to Honda to come up with that kind of innovation."
"Have a good ride!" I said. He pawed the kick stand of his Virago with his flip-flop, fired up his -- what? 30 HP V-Twin - and was on his way, east.
With a booted heel I kicked up my own kick stand, jabbed the starter with my gloved thumb, and headed west.
OH-56 became a boring "prairie run" West of Laurelville. From there, I continued west on OH-56 to Circleville, then US-22 west through Washington Court House, all the way to Wilmington. In Wilmington I picked up OH-73, and took that through the Caesar Creek area, to Springboro, Carlisle, and Middletown. This was still suburban-sprawl running, but better than my eastward trek through Miamisburg on OH-725. In Middletown, picked up OH-744 west to OH-122. North on OH-122 to my old friend OH-725, at Gratis.
West on OH-725 to IN-44, and basically retraced my steps back to Shelbyville, IN, where I picked up I-74 for the jaunt home. All told, just shy of 700 miles. A great way to spend the weekend!
I use the annual pilgrimage to Glouster, OH as a time to reflect on my riding career. The trip to Glouster itself cuts through a rich cross-section of my life...
In 2006 I made my first attempt at Burr Oak, aboard Raven, my 1984 VF500C. It was my first out of town trip. I'd been commuting on it for one entire season before this attempt. That trip ended with the death of Raven in Dayton, OH, on Saturday morning. And, a tail-between-my-legs trip back home aboard a trailer. Had to call my wife to come pick me up in Dayton. Honey, bring the trailer.
By the time the next year rolled around, I had already bought, put 6000 miles on, and sold a 1982 Goldwing Interstate. I had just ridden it on an 800 mile trip a few weekends earlier. Foremost in my mind last year was how inadequate the VF750C was to touring, compared to the Wing. It did shine in the twisties, though.
By the time this year's trip rolled around I had made some improvements to the tour-ability of the VF750C. After Charlie let me try his Mustang Seat last year, I bought one for myself this year. And, I added a memphis shades windshield.
I still envy Charlie's forward controls and pullback risers -- ergonomic enhancements that would probably suit my 6' 0", 80-year-old frame. (True, on the clock I've only got 41 years, but under the hood, I've got about 80 years. So says my orthopedic surgeon...)
The trip over was less painful than the year before. It's only May, so I opted for leather instead of mesh -- a decision that I regretted. I left at 9 am on Friday, and slabbed to Shelbyville, IN on I-74. I wanted to try the eastern part of Indiana on a locally-favored motorcycle road, IN-44. Turns out that *most* of IN-44 east of Shelbyville, IN is unremarkable -- the best parts of IN-44 are west of Shelbyville and are the subject of other trip reports of mine. It was straight-shot "prairie run" from Shelbyville to Rushville to near Connersville.
East of Connersville to Liberty, IN things got just a little more interesting. Nothing like Athens County Ohio, but not a straight shot either. At the State Line, IN-44 becomes OH-725, which I took east. It was interesting for a while, through Camden and Gratis.
However my high hopes for OH-725 went mostly unfulfilled. My hope was to avoid the superslab this time, and try to pick an interesting non-interstate route. I wouldn't say that I succeeded in that quest -- OH-725 goes through basically south Dayton suburbs; I'd have made better time on I-70.
At Spring Valley a short jaunt north on US-42, then US-35 east from Xenia all the way to Chillicothe. So much for my desire to avoid superslabs -- alas US-35 is a limited access divided highway, interstate riding without the formal designation.
US-50 east from Chillicothe to Athens was better -- mostly 2 lane, with things getting twistier as I headed east. Athens was a gas stop, and then north on OH-13 to Glouster, and OH-78 east to Burr Oak.
I arrived right in time for food. Parked the bike, took off the helmet, gloves and jacket and stood in chow line. Apparently since "His Philness" is known for showing up at dinnertime, folks joked that at first they thought I was him, based solely on the timing of my arrival.
Familiar faces and warm welcomes from folks I hadn't seen since last year. Met Mike Seidel and Pete Karasz, my cabin-mates. Despite my inquiries about "beer on bike" I arrived without a drop. I think I was more concerned about arriving in time for dinner when i past the convenience store in Glouster -- I didn't procure any liquid refreshment. After the meal, Carl Custer saw my sad and sober countenance, correctly surmised the problem and the remedy. Promptly appeared with three bottles of his personal stash. My disposition improved greatly as I quenched my thirst.
I heard tales I hadn't heard before, about RDS's encounter with drunken dope-smoking hostess in BF Nova Scotia. Saw pretty pink sparkles and smoke bombs by the fire, courtesy Rooster. Not sure why I was fall-down drunk after just four beers -- but I was. I staggered off to bed. Perhaps being dehydrated on the trip made me more susceptible. Perhaps the approaching head cold I didn't want to admit I was getting. At any rate, I was still wise enough to avoid that nasty home-brew that was being passed around.
Next morning was scattered showers early in the morning. Breakfast and waiting for the rain to pass. Some attempt at breaking and entering first by Ozzy -- who was locked out of his cabin -- and later by Adventure Ed, who was thin enough to be passed through the window into the kitchen, from there to unlock the front door of the cabin. Good times.
Somehow, in the waiting for the rain to clear, and not being sure where to go, I turned around and found myself the lone interested rider. Others had left already, by the time I was ready, those who were still around declared they were not going to ride at all.
Unable to drum up any interest in an eastward ride, I took off solo toward McConnellsville on OH-78. I lunched at the Blue Belle diner in McC, and decided that Ohio pork tenderloins cannot hold a candle to the ones in Indiana. (For Pork Tenderloins, I recommend the D&D Restaurant in Franklin, IN ... which is on that great Indiana road, IN-44, but I digress.)
The wait staff at Blue Belle was, however, better looking than their Indiana counterparts. Having filled my stomach, I again turned east along OH-78 all the way to Caldwell. Fueled up in Caldwell, backtracked along OH-78 west to OH-83 south, through Waterford to Watertown, to pick up tha wonderful discovery of a road, OH-676. This road reminds me of Brown County Indiana -- you can be traveling in four directions at once -- up, down, left and right.
Last year I had been warned off of OH-555, and had been -- probably inaccurately -- convinced that it was beyond my skill levels. This year I knew I was up for it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. There was, of course, no way I could keep up with Mr. Ross or Mr. Ryder, or probably 75% of the folks there, but still I knew I could ride a little of OH-555, and have a blast doing it.
I rode OH-555 from OH-676 north through Chesterhill, up to where I picked up OH-78 again.
This time, before I returned to camp, I gassed up in Glouster, and found a 6-pack of Sam Adams. (Wrapped, on advice of the group, discretely in brown paper before being strapped to the pillion seat.)
I stowed the beers in the fridge on my return to camp, and went to look for Katherine, who had the night before graciously offered me a ride on her pre-wrecked VFR.
Had she changed her mind, having seen me in my drunkenness the night before?
No.
"Do you still want to ride the VFR?" she asked, then, looking askance at me, added "...assuming you haven't had anything to drink yet..."
I said, "No I haven't, because I was hoping to ride that bike."
I hopped aboard the VFR, and had what Ryder so aptly describes as a "Where The F*** are the Footpegs" moment.
Compared to the Magna, the VFR handles like a dream. It is controlled by pure thought. A merely incline of the head causes the bike to steer in the direction I want. I can see the appeal of this. I immediately felt better in my lower back -- the rearset pegs tipped my pelvis and relieved pressure on the low back.
"Hey, this could work! This could be my next bike!"
But after a mere 10 miles -- west on OH-78 and north on OH-13 -- the pain began in the shoulders. The ergonomics, even of the so-called "Barcolounger" of sport bikes, will not work for my 40/80-year-old frame.
I came back with a grin on my face. Phil sees me dismounting the VFR and said, "Have we made a convert of you?"
Unfortunately no. Still searching for suitable ergonomics. Upright seating with a slight rearset to the pegs looks like it might do it. Not sure if that puts me in Triumph Speed Triple territory, or BMW R1200R territory, or GoldWing territory. I already know the Wing ergos suit me ... though not its overall demeanor.
Delicious dinner -- again. Afterwards, though I was feeling under the weather, I looked around long enough to find Carl Custer, and introduce him to the Sam Adams I had bought in Glouster. "Thanks, Carl, for sharing beer last night with a fellow maggot in his time of need!"
I finally succombed to the head cold I'd been trying to deny I was getting. Saturday night's celebration was cut short, I headed to bed.
Pete K was gone before I even thought about awakening. Next morning by the time I arrived, breakfast was nearly vaccuumed up but I did still manage to eat well. Last night's bratwurst had become this morning's breakfast sausage.
Mike S was a gracious host at the cabin, gave me a spare set of earplugs and some cold remedy tablets he had in his personal stash. Mike took off, I downed cold tablets and black coffee, trying to wake up enough for the trip home. At 11:00 I pointed Jezebel toward the west, and left Burr Oak again for another year.
Leaving Burr Oak I headed west on OH-78. I was determined to find better roads westbound than I did in my eastbound trek. OH-78 did not disappoint. OH-78 to Nelsonville, a short jaunt north on US-33 to catch OH-278 and head west again. OH-278 to OH-56 west, through the Hocking Hills area. A good ride, despite the unexpected road work and sitting and waiting in full gear on hot asphault for 10 minutes. Ugh.
OH-56 was good up to Laurelville. I stopped for gas in Laurelville, and pulled into a parking spot next to a Virago. The Virago's owner, in his shorts, flip-flops, T-Shirt, and no helmet, eyed me in my head-to-toe gear. I expected some snide comment, but instead, he spotted the "Honda V-Four Magna" emblem on the side of the tank.
"A V4!" he exclaimed, like he had never heard of the concept before.
"Yep!" I said.
"Wow," he said, "That must have incredible power!"
I searched his face for the slightest inkling of sarcasm and saw none. He gave every indication of being truly impressed. I wanted to say, "You think a 750cc V4 is impressive?!?! This is the smallest steed in the modern-era V4 herd! You should try an Interceptor, or an ST."
But instead, I said, "It's fun! A sportbike engine in a cruiser chassis." More or less true, and an easy catch-phrase to toss out there, for the sake of conversation.
"Wow, cool!" he said. "When did Honda come up with a V4!?!"
I cannot fathom this. How can you not have heard of a V4? Again I searched his face for sarcasm.
"In the early 80's," I replied. I gave him a brief overview, through the demise of the Magna in 2003 and the current king of the Honda V4 Hill, the ST1300.
"Wow," he said, "Leave it to Honda to come up with that kind of innovation."
"Have a good ride!" I said. He pawed the kick stand of his Virago with his flip-flop, fired up his -- what? 30 HP V-Twin - and was on his way, east.
With a booted heel I kicked up my own kick stand, jabbed the starter with my gloved thumb, and headed west.
OH-56 became a boring "prairie run" West of Laurelville. From there, I continued west on OH-56 to Circleville, then US-22 west through Washington Court House, all the way to Wilmington. In Wilmington I picked up OH-73, and took that through the Caesar Creek area, to Springboro, Carlisle, and Middletown. This was still suburban-sprawl running, but better than my eastward trek through Miamisburg on OH-725. In Middletown, picked up OH-744 west to OH-122. North on OH-122 to my old friend OH-725, at Gratis.
West on OH-725 to IN-44, and basically retraced my steps back to Shelbyville, IN, where I picked up I-74 for the jaunt home. All told, just shy of 700 miles. A great way to spend the weekend!
Doctor said stop riding
Been running down a continuing problem with pain in my spine. Been to chiropractors, orthopedic surgeons, neurologists, and physical therapists.
Was talking with my general practioner about something else, and we got onto the topic of my back. He was appalled at what I'd been going through, and how nobody seems to help and in fact they usually make it worse.
We talked about my back. Diagnosed possible ulnar tunnel, which is a completely different diagnosis than what the other guy was treating.
Things were going well.
Then he notices my pants. My alpinestar air-flo mesh pants. The jacket was back in the waiting room on a hanger, or he'd have noticed that too.
"Do you ride a motorcycle?"
"Yes, I do."
"I hate to say this but, you might want to consider not riding for a few weeks and see if your condition improves. Sometimes the vibration from the handlebars combined with a tight grip can exacerbate..."
His voice trailed off. He knew he was asking a lot of me. He knew I was not going to like his suggestion. I could see that he knew from the look in his eye.
First I thought, "2 weeks of prime riding season? Give it up? No way!"
Thought for a moment of saying, "Hell, I'm not riding a Harley. It's not like Iike it's vibrating that much..."
My mind flashed to that scene in "World's Fastest Indian" when, after his heart attack, Burt Munro sees his doctor, and the doctor says: "Looks like your motorcycle riding days are over."
And Burt says, "Like hell they are."
I pondered this for a moment, then recalled, "Well, you know, that might make sense if my symptoms began after motorcycle season started, but actually these symptoms started when there was ice on the roads, so I don't think it's the motorcycle."
He said, "Well, okay, if riding season hasn't changed your symptoms at all, then there's probably no reason to stop riding."
Later I told my wife about it. I said, "They can have my motorcycle when they pry it from my cold, dead fingers..."
Hell of an epitaph.
Was talking with my general practioner about something else, and we got onto the topic of my back. He was appalled at what I'd been going through, and how nobody seems to help and in fact they usually make it worse.
We talked about my back. Diagnosed possible ulnar tunnel, which is a completely different diagnosis than what the other guy was treating.
Things were going well.
Then he notices my pants. My alpinestar air-flo mesh pants. The jacket was back in the waiting room on a hanger, or he'd have noticed that too.
"Do you ride a motorcycle?"
"Yes, I do."
"I hate to say this but, you might want to consider not riding for a few weeks and see if your condition improves. Sometimes the vibration from the handlebars combined with a tight grip can exacerbate..."
His voice trailed off. He knew he was asking a lot of me. He knew I was not going to like his suggestion. I could see that he knew from the look in his eye.
First I thought, "2 weeks of prime riding season? Give it up? No way!"
Thought for a moment of saying, "Hell, I'm not riding a Harley. It's not like Iike it's vibrating that much..."
My mind flashed to that scene in "World's Fastest Indian" when, after his heart attack, Burt Munro sees his doctor, and the doctor says: "Looks like your motorcycle riding days are over."
And Burt says, "Like hell they are."
I pondered this for a moment, then recalled, "Well, you know, that might make sense if my symptoms began after motorcycle season started, but actually these symptoms started when there was ice on the roads, so I don't think it's the motorcycle."
He said, "Well, okay, if riding season hasn't changed your symptoms at all, then there's probably no reason to stop riding."
Later I told my wife about it. I said, "They can have my motorcycle when they pry it from my cold, dead fingers..."
Hell of an epitaph.
Born November 17, 1906
What a coincidence! Soichiro_Honda, founder of Honda Motor Company, Inc. was born November 17, 1906. How interesting.
I didn't know much about this guy, and certainly took no interest in his life until very recently. Because I like the motorcycles.
Daydreaming while riding
Riding home, eastbound, in rush hour traffic on the city streets. I thought I was paying attention. I noticed the BDC approaching from the right. I was alone in the right lane -- would she mistakenly assume the lane was clear and pull out in front of me? She stopped. Cars ahead were stopped for the light, traffic was bunching up. The step van on my left had already stopped, but there was room in my lane ahead of me and I toodled onward, not knowing that the step van obscured from my sight the car in front of it, crossing traffic, turning in front of me.
I didn't see him.
Thankfully, he saw me. He stopped. I continued.
I kicked myself and swore an oath to post this reminder to the group.
If he hadn't seen me, and he had plenty of reasons not to -- the step van between us, the fact that I had no cover in my lane -- if he hadn't seen me, I'd have T-boned him.
I could've kept this dumbass move to myself. E.g. I didn't tell my wife. But I decided to share in hopes that it helps someone else ride defensively.
Ride safe!
I didn't see him.
Thankfully, he saw me. He stopped. I continued.
I kicked myself and swore an oath to post this reminder to the group.
If he hadn't seen me, and he had plenty of reasons not to -- the step van between us, the fact that I had no cover in my lane -- if he hadn't seen me, I'd have T-boned him.
I could've kept this dumbass move to myself. E.g. I didn't tell my wife. But I decided to share in hopes that it helps someone else ride defensively.
Ride safe!
Custom Handlebars
Thinking about custom handlebars for my VF750C.
Found the following info at www.sideroadcycles.com
Found the following info at www.sideroadcycles.com
| Honda Model | Honda Description | Year | Bar Diameter | Height | Width | Pullback | Center | Clamp Area | Factory # |
| VF 750 C/C2 | Magna 750 | 1994 - 2003 | 1" | 5-1/2" | 31" | 10" | 6-1/2" | 2-3/4" x 5" | 53100-MZ5-910 |
Lone Biker Of The Apocalypse
How can any motorcycle enthusiast not love the depiction of "The Lone Biker Of the Apocalypse" from the movie "Raising Arizona". It's a classic
Tires
As I walked to my bike in the parking garage after work, I noticed a CBR600 parked near me. I noticed the tire looked strange so I snapped a photo.
At first I thought "what a narrow strip of worn tire -- how odd that a sport bike rider doesn't do any leaning." But as I studied it more, I thought the strange "light colored stripe" in the middle was due to something else. Perhaps a dual compound tire with gummy rubber on the sides and hard rubber in the middle.
Then, for contrast, I snapped a photo of my own tire.
Mine's barely broken in, less than 500 miles on it, and doesn't show any contrast of light and dark.
At first I thought "what a narrow strip of worn tire -- how odd that a sport bike rider doesn't do any leaning." But as I studied it more, I thought the strange "light colored stripe" in the middle was due to something else. Perhaps a dual compound tire with gummy rubber on the sides and hard rubber in the middle.
Then, for contrast, I snapped a photo of my own tire.
Mine's barely broken in, less than 500 miles on it, and doesn't show any contrast of light and dark.
He did it!!! The birth of the "Magnaceptor"
Friend and fellow Magna rider Bob finished his winter project -- transplanting a motor from a VFR into a Magna.
He calls his creation a VFR750C -- Part VFR Interceptor, Part VF750C Magna. The Magnaceptor.
By his own reckoning, he spent 3 months on the project. He mated the Magna heads and carbs to an Interceptor's motor. He spent 2 weeks of evenings wiring the harness. He used VFR wiring harness and ignition.
He calls his creation a VFR750C -- Part VFR Interceptor, Part VF750C Magna. The Magnaceptor.
By his own reckoning, he spent 3 months on the project. He mated the Magna heads and carbs to an Interceptor's motor. He spent 2 weeks of evenings wiring the harness. He used VFR wiring harness and ignition.
Hitler's got the wrong bike
What part of "Honda" do you nitwits not understand?
All that money...
You could have bought a really nice bike for that!
All that money...
You could have bought a really nice bike for that!
Custom V30 Headlight
My first-ever foray into motorcycle customization; I wanted to give my wife a windshield for her V30. There are very few options which work well and look nice for a cruiser with a rectangular headlight; there are far more options when dealing with a round headlight. So, I decided first step was to convert from rectangular to round. Also, at the same time, the stock turn signal location simply would not do. I would have to relocate them lower in order to make room for the windshield.
I ended up installing custom fork ears to hold the new headlight. I had purchased both the headlight and the fork ears for my aborted GL1100 Interstate "make-into-a-standard" project. Ended up selling the bike instead of customizing it.
I will install similar turn signals on the back.
I've posted pictures.
I'm almost finished with the whole project. I didn't get a chance to route the main harness properly but buttoned everything back together. Ran out of time. Shouldn't be much time remaining to route the cable properly. Also haven't shrink-wrapped the wires yet.
I had to lower the headlight which meant doing away with the stock fusebox and horn housing. I mounted the horns, splayed them at a 45 degree angle from the mount points, which positions them slightly wider than stock. Didn't want to leave the fuses sitting out exposed to I used a radio shack plastic project box to house them. Mounted the project box to the lower triple tree (where the stock "Honda Emblem" chrome-plastic piece is supposed to mount).
I wonder if I need to be concerned about heat inside the fusebox? Stock was not airtight. This one is. Could drill some airholes in the underside if necessary.
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