I would like to introduce you to a gentleman and his wife, who partner together to form an at home business, which caters to the bikers with these high quality leather products.
The man’s name is Drifter, his website is http://www.bikerleather123.com/ . I am encouraging you to click on the link and check out his offerings! I’ve ordered a set of saddle bags from him. I’ve looked high and low for the right look. In fact, it’s been about three years of searching for the exact shape and contour of leather pouches for my over the fender bags.
You see, I’m a diehard fan of the bag of the ass end of the horse look. I want my bags to appear as the kind that belongs to the cowboy riding the range. I don’t need or want any space age designs for air stream slippage, or any of that other fancy talk. My bike isn’t gonna be going 100 miles an hour. Air stream is not one of my major concerns. I want bags large enough to handle my needs. I ride a Sportster. I ride long distances, as if she were a cruiser. I do not have a pillion seat, nor a sissy bar in order to attach the new fangled luggage they have for bikes today. What I do have, is a plain rear fender. A front fender, front forks, and handle bars. All well capable of handling my luggage needs, if only someone would see what it is I want, and design them, then make them available for me to purchase
Well, Drifter, and whoever it is he gets his leather work from, has done exactly that. At least in the form of my saddle bags: not only does he have the design I’m looking for, but dang it…HE HAS IT IN TAN! Now I realize, most if not all of my faithful readers will think to themselves…”Tan?...that’s asking for trouble, tan shows dirt, tan shows grime, tan show…well everything. Exactly my point ladies and gentlemen. I want my leathers to show use. I want to be proud of the miles they have put on with me and my bike. I want them to gain that weathered look that comes with age. I want my leathers to have the age old honor of knowing they are used, they are treasured, but are accepted as a utility item that gains character with use and age.
I don’t have my bags yet. I’m waiting for customs to get done with them. (Due to no fault of Drifter…my bags were stopped at the Canadian border on a shipping transport truck. No, Drifter is not located in Canada, but this particular leather crafter 9for my bags) was. In normal circumstances, we would not be waiting for a delivery from the leather crafter, as he keeps much of what he sells in stock…but because of a defect in the hide (material) that had not been observed upon arrival, Drifter had asked me if I minded waiting a few extra weeks so that he could reorder the bags…this time without the defect? I replied…of course, I won’t need them until the weather warms up enough for me to consider camping and week long outings.
So now, I’m getting excited…anxious to see how they will look on my little sweet honey. Hey check out the pictures of my bags…I really do like em!
Oh hell, they won’t upload to Photobucket…and I’m at my sister’s job covering for her. So here is the link with the picture of my new bags….
http://www.bikerleather123.com/leather%20biker%20bags
123456789101112
I don't preferably like eating crow but the older I get, the easier it is. I feel that when you are a real man you are O.K. with admitting when you are wrong. I've done it publicly on my blog before, and why not here again.
My wife and I for what ever reason, for likely the last 6 months have argued about weather or not the 123456789101112 thing was from Sesame Street of Electric Co. I said Electric Co, she said Sesame Street. She was right again. I searched it out and found a YouTube video of it, and it is clearly Sesame Street.
Click on the image to watch and enjoy the nostalgia of it all.
My wife and I for what ever reason, for likely the last 6 months have argued about weather or not the 123456789101112 thing was from Sesame Street of Electric Co. I said Electric Co, she said Sesame Street. She was right again. I searched it out and found a YouTube video of it, and it is clearly Sesame Street.
Click on the image to watch and enjoy the nostalgia of it all.
Kanji
Kanji is a Japanese pictogram. It is what we usually think of when we see Asian writing of any kind. I can not tell the difference between Korean, Chinese, Japanese, or any other. They all look the same to me.
I amongst others in the motoblogosphere have been getting the shit spammed out of me big time. I've been deleting the comments left by this "ed" mutherfucker. Ed is using Kanji, or some other similar Asian pictogram writing to get his message across. I think he's got some nifty software working for him, or a company doing it because he is either manually wasting his time, or somehow bypassing word verification. This shit takes time! I deleted 14 comments left from him today alone!
I'd hate to have to do comment moderation. Hopefully he'll get tired of us soon. Your best weapon is to delete his comments folks! If you leave them, he wins. If you put your cursor over them, you'll see they are hyper links. I would not click on them to see where they go. They may link into VIRUSville, or he may get money for clicks, which could be his motivation.
Ed, I have one thing to say to you....
Oh, yeah, ed, In case you can't read Engrish, turn your head ed sideways, to read Go Fuck Yourself!
I amongst others in the motoblogosphere have been getting the shit spammed out of me big time. I've been deleting the comments left by this "ed" mutherfucker. Ed is using Kanji, or some other similar Asian pictogram writing to get his message across. I think he's got some nifty software working for him, or a company doing it because he is either manually wasting his time, or somehow bypassing word verification. This shit takes time! I deleted 14 comments left from him today alone!
I'd hate to have to do comment moderation. Hopefully he'll get tired of us soon. Your best weapon is to delete his comments folks! If you leave them, he wins. If you put your cursor over them, you'll see they are hyper links. I would not click on them to see where they go. They may link into VIRUSville, or he may get money for clicks, which could be his motivation.
Ed, I have one thing to say to you....
Oh, yeah, ed, In case you can't read Engrish, turn your head ed sideways, to read Go Fuck Yourself!
Cancel your credit card before you die
(hilarious!)
I tried to Snopes this to check it's validity, and they found nothing, so if not true, still funny as a joke.
Now some people are really stupid!!!!
Be sure and cancel your credit cards before you die.
This is so priceless, and so, so easy to see happening, customer service being what it is today.
A lady died this past January, and Citibank billed her for February and March for their annual service charges on her credit card, and added late fees and interest on the monthly charge. The balance had been $0.00 when she died, but now somewhere around $60.00. A family member placed a call to Citibank.
Here is the exchange :
Family Member: 'I am calling to tell you she died back in January.'
Citibank: 'The account was never closed and the late fees and charges still apply.'
Family Member: 'Maybe, you should turn it over to collections.'
Citibank: 'Since it is two months past due, it already has been.'
Family Member: So, what will they do when they find out she is dead?'
Citibank: 'Either report her account to frauds division or report her to the credit bureau, maybe both!'
Family Member: 'Do you think God will be mad at her?'
Citibank: 'Excuse me?'
Family Member: 'Did you j ust get what I was telling you - the part about her being dead?'
Citibank: 'Sir, you'll have to speak to my supervisor.'
Supervisor gets on the phone:
Family Member: 'I'm calling to tell you, she died back in January with a $0 balance.'
Citibank: 'The account was never closed and late fees and charges still apply.'
Family Member: 'You mean you want to collect from her estate?'
Citibank: (Stammer) 'Are you her lawyer?'
Family Member: 'No, I'm her great nephew.' (Law yer info was given)
Citibank: 'Could you fax us a certificate of death?'
Family Member: 'Sure.' (Fax number was given )
After they get the fax :
Citibank: 'Our system just isn't setup for death. I don't know what more I can do to help.'
Family Member: 'Well, if you figure it out, great! If not, you could just keep billing her. She won't care.'
Citibank: 'Well, the late fees and charges will still apply.'
(What is wrong with these people?!?)
Family Member: 'Would you like her new billing address?'
Citibank: 'That might help...'
Family Member: ' Odessa Memorial Cemetery , Highway 129, Plot Number 69.'
Citibank: 'Sir, that's a cemetery!'
Family Member: 'And what do you do with dead people on your planet???'
(Priceless!!)
You wondered why Citi is going broke and need the feds to bail them out!!
I tried to Snopes this to check it's validity, and they found nothing, so if not true, still funny as a joke.
Now some people are really stupid!!!!
Be sure and cancel your credit cards before you die.
This is so priceless, and so, so easy to see happening, customer service being what it is today.
A lady died this past January, and Citibank billed her for February and March for their annual service charges on her credit card, and added late fees and interest on the monthly charge. The balance had been $0.00 when she died, but now somewhere around $60.00. A family member placed a call to Citibank.
Here is the exchange :
Family Member: 'I am calling to tell you she died back in January.'
Citibank: 'The account was never closed and the late fees and charges still apply.'
Family Member: 'Maybe, you should turn it over to collections.'
Citibank: 'Since it is two months past due, it already has been.'
Family Member: So, what will they do when they find out she is dead?'
Citibank: 'Either report her account to frauds division or report her to the credit bureau, maybe both!'
Family Member: 'Do you think God will be mad at her?'
Citibank: 'Excuse me?'
Family Member: 'Did you j ust get what I was telling you - the part about her being dead?'
Citibank: 'Sir, you'll have to speak to my supervisor.'
Supervisor gets on the phone:
Family Member: 'I'm calling to tell you, she died back in January with a $0 balance.'
Citibank: 'The account was never closed and late fees and charges still apply.'
Family Member: 'You mean you want to collect from her estate?'
Citibank: (Stammer) 'Are you her lawyer?'
Family Member: 'No, I'm her great nephew.' (Law yer info was given)
Citibank: 'Could you fax us a certificate of death?'
Family Member: 'Sure.' (Fax number was given )
After they get the fax :
Citibank: 'Our system just isn't setup for death. I don't know what more I can do to help.'
Family Member: 'Well, if you figure it out, great! If not, you could just keep billing her. She won't care.'
Citibank: 'Well, the late fees and charges will still apply.'
(What is wrong with these people?!?)
Family Member: 'Would you like her new billing address?'
Citibank: 'That might help...'
Family Member: ' Odessa Memorial Cemetery , Highway 129, Plot Number 69.'
Citibank: 'Sir, that's a cemetery!'
Family Member: 'And what do you do with dead people on your planet???'
(Priceless!!)
You wondered why Citi is going broke and need the feds to bail them out!!
My Mission Statement
To all of you my readers: I have been studying and contemplating what I want from my blog. It's been an on going reflection since about January 10, 2009.
I believe I know where I want this blog to go, and I am writing my mission statement here, for you all to see. With your help, guidance and friendships, I know we will make this blog and my vision of it flourish into a successful endeavor for me, and a fun, informative, and reliable source of information for you.
As a writer, I believe it to be my directive to write stories that provide humor, information, beauty, truth and humility. I also believe it is helpful to write about things you know and love. I love motorcycles. I love travel. I love small town America. So why can't I take all these things I profess to love…and wrap them up into a summer of events and rides throughout rural Dixie Country?
My plan for this riding season is to take no less than one week of every month and spend it on the road exploring the scenic byways of Tennessee, Alabama, Virginia, West Virginia, Kentucky, Mississippi, Georgia, North Carolina, and South Carolina.
I have started to map out routes that are secondary in nature, that have small town America along its shores, including the festivals of the towns and communities that I will be passing though. Believe me, this is no small feat. It means I have to look at maps, note the small towns along the route, google them to see if they have web sites. If they have web sites, then I dig further to see if and when many of the towns along the route have their local fairs and festivals. I then try to time my riding schedule to match the season, and dates these small towns advertise as their draw to small town America.
I will also be camping along the way, checking out the local amenities, rating their services, and their willingness to be helpful. Food services along the way will also play a major role in what I will be writing about. You know, an army travels on its stomach…well I may not be an Army, but when I travel, I do like to eat.
It's impossible to know everything that will pop up and be of interest to me. You may find me on a 500 mile jaunt and have my mind stuck on one thing…and out of that entire 500 mile ride, that one thing maybe the exclusive item I choose to write about.
What I'm trying to tell you my friends is this: I promise to travel the byways of our beautiful Dixie countryside. I promise to find roads of historic value, roads of intrinsic beauty, roads that will carry you and me to small town America, with all her local points of interest and history. I promise to lead you to small towns who are celebrating their Founders Day, or who want to have a craft fair consisting of the local farmers, shop owners, Harley riders, bronco riders, house wives, car sales people, plumbers, drywallers….
I want to show you there are places in America where Americana is still practiced. There are festivals that celebrate the human spirit and where our roots came from. There are celebrations for the Irish settlers, for the Swedes, there are celebrations that honor the mule, and that honor the Magnolia. I want to find these celebrations, I want to experience them, I want to introduce you to them, but most of all, I want to introduce you to the people who are there experiencing and hosting the celebrations!
Least we forget, the views of the scenic highways will also be a large factor of what I write about, what I photograph, what is important. I want to be a part of something; I want you to be a part of it too. We are motorcyclists. We have the unique ability of being able to stop at places too small for cars; we can turn around easily to get better views of things we would have missed in our cars. We can smell the aromas of the fields, forests, roadside vendors selling boiled salted peanuts. But too many of us just haven't gotten past the mentality of attending events such as Daytona, Myrtle Beach, Sturgis, and the thousand other venues that pop up across our great nation in an effort to form the brotherhood of riders. Once you've gotten that out of your system, and have discovered the real brotherhood is without the boundaries and limitations of huge social gatherings…that the real brotherhood lies within you, as you pass the lone biker on the side of the road, or when you see one studying a map looking lost. Or any of the million other reasons to approach the lone biker traveling somewhere…anywhere…brotherhood is being able to transcend your troubles and learn about his…and help fix what's wrong.
So with this in mind folks, as the weeks progress, and the warmer weather begins to prevail, come back here looking for my stories of Dixie Americana…and see if it makes you want to find your way back home.
Chessie
Crack in the windshield
Sooooo,
Driving down the road, out of the blue a very large crack appears in the windshield. I try to look left, I try to look right, either way, that damned crack was still in my vision.
.
Can you even put words into an explanation for this???
Driving down the road, out of the blue a very large crack appears in the windshield. I try to look left, I try to look right, either way, that damned crack was still in my vision.
.
Can you even put words into an explanation for this???
Bobber
This is the cyber bobber I built. I named it Bob. Go figure.
Go ahead and try it. It's really cool and really easy. Besides, while you are at it, you can enter to win a Perewitz chopper! Just click on the picture to go directly to the site.
Go ahead and try it. It's really cool and really easy. Besides, while you are at it, you can enter to win a Perewitz chopper! Just click on the picture to go directly to the site.
The Gray Gator
The Gray Gator
Attached is a link (click on the title) that will take y'all to a piece I wrote for Bandit at Bikernet.com
I wrote the story on a bike of a dear friend. This link will hook you up to Bikernet.com (where the story is published,) and it is compleate with pictures as well as running commentary from the Editor...Bandit.
Click on the link and let me take you to a good friend, a very nice bike, and a tribute to both...it was fun to write, and to honor my friend for the work and dedication he provides to all bikers when they are in need of a friend....
I'm happy to put this out here for my friends in blog-land to read.
Chessie
(Mistress Marilyn)
Gnats Ass
As quoted by Lady Ridesalot A.K.A. Glider Rider on Thursday Feb. 19th, in her Too close for comfort post..."He just missed hitting the front of my car by a gnat's ass!"
This reminded me of all of the different things we say for terms of measurement.
Just how big of a distance is a gnats ass anyway?
Maybe it's only about 6".
Maybe It's about 1 foot.
Maybe even a foot and a half
Or two feet even!
Nah, I think it's closer measured in.....
This reminded me of all of the different things we say for terms of measurement.
Just how big of a distance is a gnats ass anyway?
Maybe it's only about 6".
Maybe It's about 1 foot.
Maybe even a foot and a half
Or two feet even!
Nah, I think it's closer measured in.....
Crazier than riding twisties on a motorcycle...
The Little Girl Gets a Dyno Tune
February 17, 2009.
I’m not a sentimental kind of person, but I am quite pleased with being able to document the dyno tuning process of my little girl.
In 2008 I had the top end of my 1993 XL 1200 90th Anniversary Edition Sportster rebuilt. Along the miles, before the total rebuild, I have had the jugs bored out and new oversized pistons (+.30) installed. Shortly after having the work preformed, an ex-boyfriend went down in front of me, and I ran over both him and his bike with my little girl. In the process of rolling up and falling down on top of Mr. Elmer’s bike, some damage ensued. All kinds of little niggling problems…and I wasn’t happy with the performance of the bike.
After a season of riding the bike in a condition less than stellar, but still better than what it was, I took the bike to a professional to run through and fix. During that fix, I asked him to please pull the heads and check the condition of the pistons and the slide path of the metal against the jugs. Trouble in paradise, scoring…I couldn’t believe it. This shouldn’t have been, the work is less than a year old…oh wait a minute, it couldn’t be from me not breaking in the engine properly could it? I’ve always been very proud of how hard I can beat up an engine. Yes, dear…you bought yourself another top end.
Shannon, (my mechanic) was going through the bike, I also asked him to check my carb, as I wasn’t very happy with it’s performance as of late either. She had been spewing gas through the overflow tube. It was really messing me up while out on short runs here and there, I was too scared to ride it away from the area. Shannon took the carb apart, discovering a blown diaphragm, so he rebuilt the carb as well. Here in is my problem,not that the carb was rebuilt, but that the slow jet was replaced with an incorrect sized jet. For some reason he went smaller? I dunno…maybe that jet was in there all the time…maybe it wasn’t…but I never had the problems with the carb that I had been experiencing until the rebuild.
Well now we have the problem properly discussed, I guess I should get on with the dyno day at the dealer.
I arrived at the appointed time: 1PM. I walk into the service department, announce my arrival, and go back outside to change the air filter. I was running late again and didn’t get around to changing out my K&N filter for cleaning. I own two of these filters, no down time waiting for the filter to dry this way. While I was changing the filter, a mechanic comes out (one I haven’t talked to before,) who walks around the bike checking out the oil dripage that has accumulated at the top of my cam case and at the base of my pushrods. Yes, boys and girls, what a mess. I try to keep her clean, but it’s become one of those battles that just become such a bore. After I ride for a day, less then 500 miles, the accumulation of oil, road grime and gas in that area was a real drag.
The mechanic sees my James gasket has a place where it appears as blown out.
I’ve seen it before, it’s been like that forever I think. This guy thinks the gasket is blown and wants to get into the cam case to check it out. He goes behind the counter and we start talking about the bike, how many miles I have on it…and his jaw drops. I tell him the bike has 150K on it and the bottom end hasn’t been touched since I owned it. I bought the bike in 2004 with 1200 miles on it. So I should know about the bottom end. He REALLY wants to get into the cam case now! Tells me I should have the oil pump looked at, because in the early Evo Sportster such as this one, the oil pump had less than desireable traits, that will only become enhanced with age. Yeah, I know, I’ve read about these problems, I even kinda experienced one of them back in early ’06 (which is what led to having the first mini top end done). I ask him how much…sheet…of course I’m not gonna get outta there for under five hundred! No, I think I can get this bike to give me another season, and if I am lucky…(fingers crossed, knock on wood…) I want to get another 30-50K out of her this season.
He goes away, not gonna get any money out of me this trip. The dyno was a freebie, they owed it to me from the rebuild. I wait around,
talk to the service desk guy for a while, walk over to the wash rack where they have led my bike to…the guys really like to work on clean bikes there…also, they wanted to check the cam case to see if it was blowing pressure out through that gasket. I don’t think so, and neither does my dyno tuner guy. So I’m leaving that be for a season.
Anyway, I snap a few pics of the bike as they hosed her down with the pressure washer,
arriving just in time to hear them discussing the melted shit on one of my pipes, so I was obliged to inform them of the other blonde moment I had last week. I rode my bike to cover for my sister at her job, and wore a knit pants suit. Bad idea, as the right leg blew against the pipe and melted the material, sticking a nasty black crap to the pipes, which will melt off in time. The wash man did manage to get some of the crap off. I got a picture of the wasted material left behind on the pipe.
After the bike went through the wash process, she was left out in the sun to dry. So I waited out there with her….and I waited some more, and I kept on waiting until the dyno tune guy showed up from his EXTENDED lunch at 3 pm. Uhhhh, my appointment was at 1PM Mr. Prima Donna….I kept that to myself, I wanted him to not screw me over with a piss poor test and tuning. I believe that to be an excellent choice. He spent some extra time with my bike…and we talked tuning for some time during and after the tuning.
You know, Mr. Prima Donna gave me his name, but I’m lousy with names, I never remembered it. So from here out, he’s “Mr. PD” OK? Mr. PD arrives, rolls my bike up the ramp, ties her down till she’s trussed up like a 19th century whore, and he starts sticking stuff up her tail pipe…such indignities to be suffered while others watch. Ah well, these things have to happen if she wants to get better, and I so know she does!
Mr. PM starts taking her through the performance run. He likes the read outs.
He runs her again, and is quite satisfied with her performance. I ask him if he felt the drag or what I was calling the “dogging” of the carb. It wasn’t bogging down it just didn’t have umpah at 2K. Once through the 2K point she sling shots through the RPM until we hit 3K. He puts her through the paces again, with the machine, and tells me he can’t feel what I’m talking about. We discuss it further, and it hits him that I am not talking about a decline in power, but rather a flat spot where no more power was available. He starts to thinking it’s the slow speed jet. He takes the bottom end of the carb off, (I’m impressed, the didn’t even have to take the air cover off…did it all by feel.) 
Check out a few things before checking out the jet…and there it is. It’s a Mikuni Carb jet size 42. I need a 45 in there says he….”OK…do it” says me.
After he ran her through the torturous regime again, he shuts her down and we discuss the details of the run. Yeah, the low end is running a wee bit richer now between 3.0 and 4.0…and the bike is tits. Yeah…I like tits!
These are the numbers:
• Pre larger jet= Max power~66.17
• Pre larger jet= Max torque~63.29
• Post 45 jet = Max power~69.31
• Post 45 jet = Max torque~73.05
It was a great experience. Standing in the room with the machine, feeling the vibration from the engine in the air…so much, that my nasal cavities rattled, braking loose the snot drying from my cold assed ride into the shop. It was such a good feeling, and you know, I swear I could see the disturbance of the air molecules from the engine. Do you think that’s what it was? Or were my eyeballs vibrating in their sockets so bad, I could see waves in the air? Either way, it’s like a new kind of high for me…I really liked how it made me feel…you know what? Better yet was the ride home. The bike ran perfectly. No slingshot effect after the 2000 RPM mark…solid performance, steady pull and power increase throughout the ride, no matter what RPM I was riding at! I have a warm and fuzzy feeling again, just remembering the ride in order for me to write it down here.
One last thing: for the last few hundred miles, I have been hearing a vibrating plastic noise in back of me. I assumed it was the left rear turn signal, as it kinda has this way of wanting to rotate at the end of the extension. But as I was photographing the bike, and standing at the rear, I could see it is the brake light assembly. SHIT…SHIT…SHIT…I don’t wanna have to detach the shocks in order to tighten that fricken assembly. SHIT>>>SHIT>>>>SHIT!
I’m not a sentimental kind of person, but I am quite pleased with being able to document the dyno tuning process of my little girl.
In 2008 I had the top end of my 1993 XL 1200 90th Anniversary Edition Sportster rebuilt. Along the miles, before the total rebuild, I have had the jugs bored out and new oversized pistons (+.30) installed. Shortly after having the work preformed, an ex-boyfriend went down in front of me, and I ran over both him and his bike with my little girl. In the process of rolling up and falling down on top of Mr. Elmer’s bike, some damage ensued. All kinds of little niggling problems…and I wasn’t happy with the performance of the bike.
After a season of riding the bike in a condition less than stellar, but still better than what it was, I took the bike to a professional to run through and fix. During that fix, I asked him to please pull the heads and check the condition of the pistons and the slide path of the metal against the jugs. Trouble in paradise, scoring…I couldn’t believe it. This shouldn’t have been, the work is less than a year old…oh wait a minute, it couldn’t be from me not breaking in the engine properly could it? I’ve always been very proud of how hard I can beat up an engine. Yes, dear…you bought yourself another top end.
Shannon, (my mechanic) was going through the bike, I also asked him to check my carb, as I wasn’t very happy with it’s performance as of late either. She had been spewing gas through the overflow tube. It was really messing me up while out on short runs here and there, I was too scared to ride it away from the area. Shannon took the carb apart, discovering a blown diaphragm, so he rebuilt the carb as well. Here in is my problem,not that the carb was rebuilt, but that the slow jet was replaced with an incorrect sized jet. For some reason he went smaller? I dunno…maybe that jet was in there all the time…maybe it wasn’t…but I never had the problems with the carb that I had been experiencing until the rebuild.
Well now we have the problem properly discussed, I guess I should get on with the dyno day at the dealer.
I arrived at the appointed time: 1PM. I walk into the service department, announce my arrival, and go back outside to change the air filter. I was running late again and didn’t get around to changing out my K&N filter for cleaning. I own two of these filters, no down time waiting for the filter to dry this way. While I was changing the filter, a mechanic comes out (one I haven’t talked to before,) who walks around the bike checking out the oil dripage that has accumulated at the top of my cam case and at the base of my pushrods. Yes, boys and girls, what a mess. I try to keep her clean, but it’s become one of those battles that just become such a bore. After I ride for a day, less then 500 miles, the accumulation of oil, road grime and gas in that area was a real drag.
The mechanic sees my James gasket has a place where it appears as blown out.
I’ve seen it before, it’s been like that forever I think. This guy thinks the gasket is blown and wants to get into the cam case to check it out. He goes behind the counter and we start talking about the bike, how many miles I have on it…and his jaw drops. I tell him the bike has 150K on it and the bottom end hasn’t been touched since I owned it. I bought the bike in 2004 with 1200 miles on it. So I should know about the bottom end. He REALLY wants to get into the cam case now! Tells me I should have the oil pump looked at, because in the early Evo Sportster such as this one, the oil pump had less than desireable traits, that will only become enhanced with age. Yeah, I know, I’ve read about these problems, I even kinda experienced one of them back in early ’06 (which is what led to having the first mini top end done). I ask him how much…sheet…of course I’m not gonna get outta there for under five hundred! No, I think I can get this bike to give me another season, and if I am lucky…(fingers crossed, knock on wood…) I want to get another 30-50K out of her this season.
He goes away, not gonna get any money out of me this trip. The dyno was a freebie, they owed it to me from the rebuild. I wait around,
talk to the service desk guy for a while, walk over to the wash rack where they have led my bike to…the guys really like to work on clean bikes there…also, they wanted to check the cam case to see if it was blowing pressure out through that gasket. I don’t think so, and neither does my dyno tuner guy. So I’m leaving that be for a season.Anyway, I snap a few pics of the bike as they hosed her down with the pressure washer,
arriving just in time to hear them discussing the melted shit on one of my pipes, so I was obliged to inform them of the other blonde moment I had last week. I rode my bike to cover for my sister at her job, and wore a knit pants suit. Bad idea, as the right leg blew against the pipe and melted the material, sticking a nasty black crap to the pipes, which will melt off in time. The wash man did manage to get some of the crap off. I got a picture of the wasted material left behind on the pipe.After the bike went through the wash process, she was left out in the sun to dry. So I waited out there with her….and I waited some more, and I kept on waiting until the dyno tune guy showed up from his EXTENDED lunch at 3 pm. Uhhhh, my appointment was at 1PM Mr. Prima Donna….I kept that to myself, I wanted him to not screw me over with a piss poor test and tuning. I believe that to be an excellent choice. He spent some extra time with my bike…and we talked tuning for some time during and after the tuning.
You know, Mr. Prima Donna gave me his name, but I’m lousy with names, I never remembered it. So from here out, he’s “Mr. PD” OK? Mr. PD arrives, rolls my bike up the ramp, ties her down till she’s trussed up like a 19th century whore, and he starts sticking stuff up her tail pipe…such indignities to be suffered while others watch. Ah well, these things have to happen if she wants to get better, and I so know she does!
Mr. PM starts taking her through the performance run. He likes the read outs.
He runs her again, and is quite satisfied with her performance. I ask him if he felt the drag or what I was calling the “dogging” of the carb. It wasn’t bogging down it just didn’t have umpah at 2K. Once through the 2K point she sling shots through the RPM until we hit 3K. He puts her through the paces again, with the machine, and tells me he can’t feel what I’m talking about. We discuss it further, and it hits him that I am not talking about a decline in power, but rather a flat spot where no more power was available. He starts to thinking it’s the slow speed jet. He takes the bottom end of the carb off, (I’m impressed, the didn’t even have to take the air cover off…did it all by feel.) Check out a few things before checking out the jet…and there it is. It’s a Mikuni Carb jet size 42. I need a 45 in there says he….”OK…do it” says me.
After he ran her through the torturous regime again, he shuts her down and we discuss the details of the run. Yeah, the low end is running a wee bit richer now between 3.0 and 4.0…and the bike is tits. Yeah…I like tits!
These are the numbers:
• Pre larger jet= Max power~66.17
• Pre larger jet= Max torque~63.29
• Post 45 jet = Max power~69.31
• Post 45 jet = Max torque~73.05
It was a great experience. Standing in the room with the machine, feeling the vibration from the engine in the air…so much, that my nasal cavities rattled, braking loose the snot drying from my cold assed ride into the shop. It was such a good feeling, and you know, I swear I could see the disturbance of the air molecules from the engine. Do you think that’s what it was? Or were my eyeballs vibrating in their sockets so bad, I could see waves in the air? Either way, it’s like a new kind of high for me…I really liked how it made me feel…you know what? Better yet was the ride home. The bike ran perfectly. No slingshot effect after the 2000 RPM mark…solid performance, steady pull and power increase throughout the ride, no matter what RPM I was riding at! I have a warm and fuzzy feeling again, just remembering the ride in order for me to write it down here.
One last thing: for the last few hundred miles, I have been hearing a vibrating plastic noise in back of me. I assumed it was the left rear turn signal, as it kinda has this way of wanting to rotate at the end of the extension. But as I was photographing the bike, and standing at the rear, I could see it is the brake light assembly. SHIT…SHIT…SHIT…I don’t wanna have to detach the shocks in order to tighten that fricken assembly. SHIT>>>SHIT>>>>SHIT!
Triumph scrambler ad
One last ad for today...now, I find this to be HOT...
I don't care, just look at this bike, look at the wild and hot look of the model...I love the setting and background for this ad...it all drips of hot, sexy, and danger....God...this is advertising at it's best!
BSA ad
Read this ad! It says "Move up to a MAN'S motorycle,"
Lordy, Lordy...I got a real smile out of that! I loved British bikes...and I still have a warm spot in my heart for them...ahhh memories....
WTF
OK...if I lived in Wisconsin, I promise you...I would have to have one of these...you can't tell me this isn't just way above and beyond! This thing looks so dang cool!
The Douglas Motorcycle Company BS15
I just found this photo, and upon reading more about it, I find this is a Rugby team!
Yes, they actually played Rugby on motorcycles! According to the poster of this photo: this is the Douglas AFC team. The photo was taken at the factory grounds at Kingswood Bristol... (That's Bristol UK, not Bristol TN.)
Good lord, I'll bet this was quite a sight to see...rugby is a really scary sport as it is, without adding the motorcycle in the mix.
I wonder if I just got it misunderstood or what? I'll have to check some facts...but all the same...very cool bikes...
Don't ya think?
The Journey through a computor
I guess your wondering what the title could possibly mean. It's simple really, tomorrow my bike is going into the shop to go on the dyna machine. They want to determine if the problems I'm experiencing with my carb is simply in how the carb is adjusted, or if needle valves and or seats have to be replaced.
So I promise you, I will take my camera, and follow the bike through it's paces on the machine...stick with folks, and lets see what happens with the carb and get it right!
So I promise you, I will take my camera, and follow the bike through it's paces on the machine...stick with folks, and lets see what happens with the carb and get it right!
Vintage Advertisement
Another "Snortin Norton"...
I never liked yellow...but I sure thought my boyfriend's Norton was the perky up tilted nips of the day....
Everyone else had BSA 500 or 650 and Triumph 500-650...I thought I was hot shit riding his bike!
Vintage Harley ad Popular Mechanics May 1932
It isn't May yet...not like the calender in the ad states...but the owner of this picture states it's from Popular Mechanics, May 1932
Norton Commando - AD 1972 Hotpants
My first boyfriend with a motorcycle...had a Norton Commando....
The source of this photo says this is circa 1972. That would have been one year AFTER me and the boyfriend broke up...and his bike was red.
Vintage Ad #332: Viva Knievel Towels!
The source of this photo states it was from an ad in 1975... I sure don't ever remember seeing these...but then again, I hardly remember much of the '70's...cool huh?
Vintage Ad Card 2 kids and puppy morph to skull
OK, so this has nothing to do with Motorcyles, but the skull morph is cool!
If only my grandparents were this cool
I like to check out the photos of others posted on the web, and I am now checking out vintage photos of HD, Indian, BMW, and a few others....I like this one because it shows working folks...
Things to ponder....WTF.... And why?
OK, so this is some strange stuff, ya gotta admit, those people in Japan sure know how to make us scratch our heads in wonder....
Something a Lot of Grey Beards Want to Say to HD
Click on the poster to read in full!
I don't give a shit if the way it reads is from a youngster...not all gray beards are fartsy....a lot of old timers really ride.
What's left to say?
I don't give a shit if the way it reads is from a youngster...not all gray beards are fartsy....a lot of old timers really ride.
What's left to say?
Looking winter in the eye and laughing at it, because crying won't get me riding any sooner.
As a trucker stops for a red light, a blond catches up. She jumps out
of her car, runs up to his truck, and knocks on the door.
.
The trucker lowers the window, and she says "Hi, my name is Heather and
you are losing some of your load."
.
The trucker ignores her and proceeds down the street.
.
When the truck stops for another red light, the girl catches up again.
She jumps out of her car, runs up and knocks on the door.
.
Again, the trucker lowers the window. As if they've never spoken, the
blond says brightly, "Hi my name is Heather, and you are losing some
of your load!"
.
Shaking his head, the trucker ignores her again and continues down the
street. At the third red light, the same thing happens again.
.
All out of breath, the blond gets out of her car, runs up, knocks
on the truck door. The trucker rolls d own the window. Again she
says "Hi, my name is Heather, and you are losing some of your load!"
.
When the light turns green the trucker revs up and races to the next
light.
.
When he stops this time, he hurriedly gets out of the truck, and
runs back to the blond. He knocks on her window, and after she lowers it, he says........"Hi, My name is Mark, it's winter in Minnesota and I'm driving the
SALT TRUCK!"
of her car, runs up to his truck, and knocks on the door.
.
The trucker lowers the window, and she says "Hi, my name is Heather and
you are losing some of your load."
.
The trucker ignores her and proceeds down the street.
.
When the truck stops for another red light, the girl catches up again.
She jumps out of her car, runs up and knocks on the door.
.
Again, the trucker lowers the window. As if they've never spoken, the
blond says brightly, "Hi my name is Heather, and you are losing some
of your load!"
.
Shaking his head, the trucker ignores her again and continues down the
street. At the third red light, the same thing happens again.
.
All out of breath, the blond gets out of her car, runs up, knocks
on the truck door. The trucker rolls d own the window. Again she
says "Hi, my name is Heather, and you are losing some of your load!"
.
When the light turns green the trucker revs up and races to the next
light.
.
When he stops this time, he hurriedly gets out of the truck, and
runs back to the blond. He knocks on her window, and after she lowers it, he says........"Hi, My name is Mark, it's winter in Minnesota and I'm driving the
SALT TRUCK!"
Thought provoking.
I'm not sure if every thing here is fact, but some is, and if nothing else, it is very thought provoking.
How many zeros in a billion?
The next time you hear a politician use the
word 'billion' in a casual manner, think about
whether you want the 'politicians' spending
YOUR tax money.
A billion is a difficult number to comprehend,
but one advertising agency did a good job of
putting that figure into some perspective in
one of it's releases.
A.
A billion seconds ago it was 1959.
B.
A billion minutes ago Jesus was alive.
C.
A billion hours ago our ancestors were
living in the Stone Age.
D.
A billion days ago no-one walked on the earth on two feet.
E.
A billion dollars ago was only
8 hours and 20 minutes,
at the rate our government
is spending it.
While this thought is still fresh in our brain...
let's take a look at New Orleans
It's amazing what you can learn with some simple division.
Louisiana Senator,
Mary Landrieu (D)
is presently askingCongress for
250 BILLION DOLLARS
to rebuild New Orleans Interesting number...
what does it mean?
A.
Well... if you are one of the 484,674 residents of New Orleans
(every man, woman, and child)
you each get$516,528.
B.
Or... if you have one of the 188,251 homes in
New Orleans , your home gets $1,329,787.
C.
Or... if you are a family of four...
your family gets $2,066,012.
Washi ngton, D. C
HELLO!
Are all your calculators broken??
Accounts Receivable Tax
Building Permit Tax
CDL License Tax
Cigarette Tax
Corporate Income Tax
Dog License Tax
Federal Income Tax
Federal Unemployment Tax (FUTA)
Fishing License Tax
Food License Tax
Fuel Permit Tax
Gasoline Tax
Hunting License Tax
Inheritance Tax
Inventory Tax
IRS Interest Charges (tax on top of tax)
IRS Penalties (tax on top of tax)
Liquor Tax
Luxury Tax
Marriage License Tax
Medicare Tax
Property Tax
Real Estate Tax
Service charge taxes
Social Security Tax
Road Usage Tax (Truckers)
Sales Taxes
Recreational Vehicle Tax
School Tax
State Income Tax
State Unemployment Tax (SUTA)
Telephone Federal Excise Tax
Telephone Federal Universal Service Fee Tax
Telephone Federal, State and Local Surcharge Tax
Telephone Minimum Usage Surcharge Tax
Telephone Recurring and Non-recurring Charges Tax
Telephone State and Local Tax
Telephone Usage ChargeTax
Utility Tax
Vehicle License Registration Tax
Vehicle Sales Tax
Watercraft Registration Tax
Well Permit Tax
Workers Compensation Tax
STILL THINK THIS IS FUNNY?
Not one of these taxes existed 100 years ago...
and our nation was the most prosperous in the world.
We had absolutely no national debt...
We had the largest middle class in the world...
and Mom stayed home to raise the kids.
What happened?
Can you spell 'politicians!'
And I still have to
press "1"
for English.
I hope this goes aroundthe
USA
at least 100 times
What the HECK happened?????
Beautiful day in the Virginia Countryside and I’m Riding It
Be sure to click on the photos for full effect!
February 9TH 2009. It was one of those wow days here in the NE corner of TN.
I woke up knowing it was going to be a nice warm day, so I was up early, finished my blog, checked my mail, got a few things completed around the house, and prepared for my next big ride for later that morning.
I wanted to complete the ride that was interrupted by my blond inheritance last week. So this week, I get all my affairs in order, all my things I wanted to bring with me was either on me, or in my purse…purse…check…every a go!
The bike cranks up easily in the 58 degree temps. No enriching of the carb was needed today, it was so natural, I even forgot about the choke, until I was well on my way down the road.
I stopped for fuel at the closest place from my house, walked into the mini mart, gave em four bucks, and came back for my change…I only dumped 1.2 gallons into the tank, and with gas at just around 2 bucks a gallon, I can get my change back…just like how it used to be at McDonalds…yeah, I’m old enough to remember that commercial.
Leaving out of the gas station, I head for the mountains. My excitement for the unknown adventure ahead was mounting, I am totally happy for the open road, the bike beneath me, and a strong engine that really likes to go.
Turning onto 19E north, I’m on my way…it feels really good. Continuing on 19E North will bring you into Bristol…I stopped and took this picture. I’ve always planned on taking this picture, so I’m quite proud of myself, I actually remembered to plan the stop for it. It’s on a busy four lane road, so you have to actually remember to stop, and try not to just dump the brakes and lean to the left…or you’ll get run over by the tailgater in back of you. This sign is just after the exit for the Bristol Drag strip. Not to be confused with the Bristol Racetrack…the drag strip is a tad earlier than the racetrack.
I stay on 19E all the way through Bristol, jumping on I-81 north for about a ¼ mile then getting off at 58W. Bristol is Bristol, I’ve been there and done that with Bristol, let’s move on.
Once on 58, I’m not on familiar road. It’s ALT. 58…not the real 58, so I’m disappointed with my choice of road. I ride through miles of outskirts of both Bristol and Abington. Finally, the road opens up…or rather closes in, the rock formations beside me are becoming mountains and the housing as well as businesses are growing sparse!
Now I’m starting to see the sights I come to VA. for. Check out these really cool old houses and barns!
I stopped and took pictures of as many interesting places as I felt I could do something with…and I really was enjoying myself. In the past, I never really stopped for things like this. I hated the tourist feeling, now I’m old enough to not really give a shit what I might look like to others. They don’t know me, they can make assumptions about me all they want, and they would be the ones who were wrong, not me! Check out this! Man I love these kinds of roads!
Here’s a barn I really like, I guess I will have to go back and reload the original picture from the camera card, I wasn’t sure if I would lose the original if I did this kind of adjustments to this barn, so now I will need to go back and get it.
This is an old shack, talk about grown over?
The front porch and it’s overhang had collapsed from the vines and overgrowth that was on this house. I really like this picture!
By this time, I was on a county road called 700. It went on for about 15 miles, before I came to this road, one way took you back to Bristol, the other took you eventually to Kingsport. I choose to head towards Kingsport and see what I could see. Man, what a fricken fantastic choice! And here’s why! Check out these hillsides with small springs dripping their waters down the rocky limits of the jagged earth.
Next I came across this barn or equipment shed, built around a huge boulder…pretty cool huh?
It was shortly after this, I came across these scenes. God, Virginia is a beautiful state.
Not long after these photos were taken, I came across an old man on his riding lawnmower, pulling a log splitter down the roadside. I pulled up next to him, and asked if there was a way to get to TN from where we were. He looked at me as if I was plumb loco and said the fastest way was to turn around and head to Bristol. I told him I was out to explore, and was doing a kind of loop ride. My ride had started in Bristol, and I wanted to avoid going back there until I had a good loop and exploration going. The old man smiled at me, he understood: the passion of discovering places and things and taking the long road around. He gave me directions that only farmers, rural dwellers, and intrepid explorers would get. I love it, “go down to the little curve, turn right at Jon’s general store on the corner, and go to where the road splits again, turn left and follow that until you come to… In other words, no road signs, just roadside attractions… I am so at home here.
Don’t you just love this shack? It’s on the way to Carter’s Fold. I had no freaking idea I was in the Carter Family region of VA. I mean I knew they came from around this area, but it was a surprise to me to find their little homestead on this road.
Near Carter’s fold, I found this cool old passenger railcar. I want to do some work with this picture, and see what I can draw out of it for color and saturation limits!
Leaving the Fold, I come across the old Bristol Highway…It’s time to head home and get dinner started for Mom and Jeff. Along the way though…I still find time to stop and take more pictures of the beautiful scenery.
February 9TH 2009. It was one of those wow days here in the NE corner of TN.
I woke up knowing it was going to be a nice warm day, so I was up early, finished my blog, checked my mail, got a few things completed around the house, and prepared for my next big ride for later that morning.
I wanted to complete the ride that was interrupted by my blond inheritance last week. So this week, I get all my affairs in order, all my things I wanted to bring with me was either on me, or in my purse…purse…check…every a go!
The bike cranks up easily in the 58 degree temps. No enriching of the carb was needed today, it was so natural, I even forgot about the choke, until I was well on my way down the road.
I stopped for fuel at the closest place from my house, walked into the mini mart, gave em four bucks, and came back for my change…I only dumped 1.2 gallons into the tank, and with gas at just around 2 bucks a gallon, I can get my change back…just like how it used to be at McDonalds…yeah, I’m old enough to remember that commercial.
Leaving out of the gas station, I head for the mountains. My excitement for the unknown adventure ahead was mounting, I am totally happy for the open road, the bike beneath me, and a strong engine that really likes to go.
Turning onto 19E north, I’m on my way…it feels really good. Continuing on 19E North will bring you into Bristol…I stopped and took this picture. I’ve always planned on taking this picture, so I’m quite proud of myself, I actually remembered to plan the stop for it. It’s on a busy four lane road, so you have to actually remember to stop, and try not to just dump the brakes and lean to the left…or you’ll get run over by the tailgater in back of you. This sign is just after the exit for the Bristol Drag strip. Not to be confused with the Bristol Racetrack…the drag strip is a tad earlier than the racetrack.
I stay on 19E all the way through Bristol, jumping on I-81 north for about a ¼ mile then getting off at 58W. Bristol is Bristol, I’ve been there and done that with Bristol, let’s move on.
Once on 58, I’m not on familiar road. It’s ALT. 58…not the real 58, so I’m disappointed with my choice of road. I ride through miles of outskirts of both Bristol and Abington. Finally, the road opens up…or rather closes in, the rock formations beside me are becoming mountains and the housing as well as businesses are growing sparse!
Now I’m starting to see the sights I come to VA. for. Check out these really cool old houses and barns!
I stopped and took pictures of as many interesting places as I felt I could do something with…and I really was enjoying myself. In the past, I never really stopped for things like this. I hated the tourist feeling, now I’m old enough to not really give a shit what I might look like to others. They don’t know me, they can make assumptions about me all they want, and they would be the ones who were wrong, not me! Check out this! Man I love these kinds of roads!
Here’s a barn I really like, I guess I will have to go back and reload the original picture from the camera card, I wasn’t sure if I would lose the original if I did this kind of adjustments to this barn, so now I will need to go back and get it.
This is an old shack, talk about grown over?
The front porch and it’s overhang had collapsed from the vines and overgrowth that was on this house. I really like this picture!
By this time, I was on a county road called 700. It went on for about 15 miles, before I came to this road, one way took you back to Bristol, the other took you eventually to Kingsport. I choose to head towards Kingsport and see what I could see. Man, what a fricken fantastic choice! And here’s why! Check out these hillsides with small springs dripping their waters down the rocky limits of the jagged earth.
Next I came across this barn or equipment shed, built around a huge boulder…pretty cool huh?
It was shortly after this, I came across these scenes. God, Virginia is a beautiful state.
Not long after these photos were taken, I came across an old man on his riding lawnmower, pulling a log splitter down the roadside. I pulled up next to him, and asked if there was a way to get to TN from where we were. He looked at me as if I was plumb loco and said the fastest way was to turn around and head to Bristol. I told him I was out to explore, and was doing a kind of loop ride. My ride had started in Bristol, and I wanted to avoid going back there until I had a good loop and exploration going. The old man smiled at me, he understood: the passion of discovering places and things and taking the long road around. He gave me directions that only farmers, rural dwellers, and intrepid explorers would get. I love it, “go down to the little curve, turn right at Jon’s general store on the corner, and go to where the road splits again, turn left and follow that until you come to… In other words, no road signs, just roadside attractions… I am so at home here.
Don’t you just love this shack? It’s on the way to Carter’s Fold. I had no freaking idea I was in the Carter Family region of VA. I mean I knew they came from around this area, but it was a surprise to me to find their little homestead on this road.
Near Carter’s fold, I found this cool old passenger railcar. I want to do some work with this picture, and see what I can draw out of it for color and saturation limits!
Leaving the Fold, I come across the old Bristol Highway…It’s time to head home and get dinner started for Mom and Jeff. Along the way though…I still find time to stop and take more pictures of the beautiful scenery.
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