Manners update...

I have decided to forgive this transgression, since the shop just called me and apologized for taking so long.

Now the long, long wait for my clutch cable begins...

Basic manners

Should I ever run a motorcycle parts shop, and a customer who needs a clutch cable calls and I tell them I will call them back within the hour with specific details about the cost and delivery time of such a part, I will actually do it.

Not calling back is the kind of behavior that makes me think I'm going to just call some other shop and stop dealing with the first one.

Tough Morning.

This morning Lady Luck left for work, then came back in and told me the steering wheel in the Mustang wouldn't turn. I went out and discovered that a power steering hose had come loose. I was able to put it back together in a couple minutes (hooray, and boo, for hose clamps). It seems she made it to work ok. I'm glad we had a little power steering fluid on hand. She had to stop and get some more, but that's easy when you've got a driveable car.

After that fun, I dumped some cat litter on the huge puddles of power steering fluid in our parking lot. Then I started up the VX and got myself psyched for a chilly ride to work. I was ready and raring to go. Naturally, my clutch cable snapped.

...

I wound up driving the rat buick to work again.

Would someone bring me a beer, please?

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

So, turkey was consumed, walls were painted, motorcycles were ridden, beer was drunk and holiday decorations were installed.

I'd say it was a fairly successful weekend.

It is damn cold in Phoenix today. Apparently it's 36 degrees out right now. I didn't notice as much, because I had to drive the rat-buick to work today. It needs new tabs, so I have to get the emissions tested. Wish me luck.

Don't you know it's a Holiday weekend?

People visited this page today? What the hell?

Oh... some of you poor suckers probably had to work.

Personally, I dragged Lady Luck out for a ride. She borrowed Baldy-Beard's scooter, and we terrorized downtown Tempe for a while. Apparently there was a sporting event of some sort, which made the ride interesting to say the least.

She wants a scooter for xmas now. It's going to be a motor-rific holiday!

Ok, well, I have to get back to enjoying my long weekend. Later!

Pizza for Thanksgiving!

No, not really. Happy day-off-of-work-for-Turkey-day, one day in advance.

Flip Flopping

So now I'm thinking of getting the Triumph again.

Can you bear the suspense?

Anyway, yesterday I happened to wander by a pizza place in downtown Phoenix that is ripe for a reviewing. It was closed so I couldn't get a slice, but I will. Expect a bitchin' new review soon. Oh, and photos! Lots of beautiful, beautiful photos.

Pizza! Motorcycles! Holy Sh*t!!

I had a Freschetta pizza for dinner last night. I prefer the one with the cheesy/saucy crust, but the plain old variety is ok. Especially when a veggie friend who accidentally bought a meaty pizza gives it to me.

I gotta get out and review a new place soon. I know I've been a little slow in reviewing places. I've just been too damn busy to go out and eat pizza, what with my blacksmithing class on Saturdays, working, trying to forget I spent the day working, and then stretching my Sundays as far as I can to maximize weekend chill time.

But I'll review a new place soon, ok?

Anyway, back to the important issues at hand. What motorcycle do I want? Well, I'm thinking it'll be the Sportster 883. Or the Bonneville.

See, the problem is, they both make me feel kinda funny. I have to admit, I'm leaning very strongly towards the Sporty. It's cheaper, and parts are (presumably) very easy to get. I also like the way it looks quite a bit. On the other hand, every time I look at the Bonneville I need to take a cold shower and think about poor dentistry. It's SO pretty. You don't believe me? Well LOOK at it!

My right brain knows that it'll end up being a huge pain in my ass, given the rarity of the bike. But then, my left brain yells "Hey, stupid! It's rare and sexy!! You LOVE rare and sexy!!" Worse, I saw there's one of these on sale for a significant discount at the local Triumph dealer. It's even more rare, and more sexy (and more likely to piss off my lovely passenger).

But who am I kidding? I'm getting a Sportster. Probably some time in January. Or February. Or something.

So, what's your favorite pizza place?

I'd like to ask, once again, for some recommendations of pizza places in the U.S. So far I've gotten recommendations for about 6 places, two in New Mexico and a couple in Denver, and one out in Rhode Island. That's a good start, but this is The Great Motorcycle Pizza Tour. Which means I need to leave a swath of discarded pizza boxes across the entire country.

I know you have a favorite pizza place. Tell me where the hell it is, so I can go and validate you. Please share. You can leave a comment, or email me if you like.

Need the rules for pizza parlor qualification again? Here they are.

Leaning and the effects of Camo

Regarding the new bike, I'm leaning strongly towards getting a Sportster. Now my decision is 883 or 1200? There's more to that decision than raw power (which I do love so very, very much). I'm leaning towards the 1200 because it has a couple of amenities (like a tachometer, it appears) that the 883 doesn't have. It should also have enough power that it won't notice I've got a passenger, a tank bag, a couple of saddle bags, and a cast iron bathtub strapped to it. Plus, there's something about that bike that appeals to my monster-truck/dragster sensibilities. It's just a huge motor, with wheels. On the other hand, it has to run on 91 octane. That's not that big of a deal with it's 4 gallon (approximately) tank, but a buck is a buck. I might have to start spending more than $9 per tank. The other thing is that it's a couple grand more expensive ($6500 vs. $8500).

Well, I've got to save up a big ol' down payment anyways. That oughta be fun.

Anway, on to the other topic, I've been wearing my old army-surplus camo jacket while riding and staying significantly warmer. Hooray for camo!

Further motorcycle purchase contemplation...

So, it's down to either a Sportster or a Triumph Bonneville. I've done a good deal of research and discovered that the new Bonnevilles are very reliable. As are the new Sportsters.

Both require rejetting the carbs and new exhaust to live up to their full potential. And they were originally rival products, with the Sportster being released in order to compete with the british bikes.

Which means it's down to comparison of price, style, performance, and passenger comfort. Both are nicely within my price range. Both are very tasty looking. Performance specs are comparable, with the Sportster having the slightest advantage (unless I go for the 1200, in which case the Triumph is left behind choking on my American exhaust).

I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that it's much easier getting OEM and aftermarket parts for the Sportster, as there is an HD dealership at every wide spot in the road (at least in the U.S.). The Triumph has a respectable aftermarket, but very few actual dealers near me. That says to me that waiting for parts for the Sportster would be much more tolerable.

I get a big dumb grin thinking about either of them, as they are both "essence of motorcycle" type bikes. There's a front wheel, a back wheel, a big ol' motor in between and a bar to hang on for dear life.

SO! The choice comes down to passenger comfort (and whether I want to give money to an evil American corporation, or an evil British corporation). There are aftermarket saddles for both bikes. One of them MUST be somewhat comfortable.

I guess the trick now will be finding a way to get Lady Luck into a motorcycle dealership to hop on the back and tell me which one is the most comfy. That oughta be easy after I finish painting the remaining rooms in our house...

Acclimation

I know that a few of you are probably putting your bikes away for the winter by now. The next few months are going to be snowy, icy and generally miserable for you (unless you ski, snowmobile, make fantastical snowman scenes or sculpt ice). Meanwhile, you're probably going to be somewhat jealous of me, gleefully riding through January and February.

The thing is, it's cold for me too. It took all of a week and a half for me to get used to living in the desert when I moved down here. When it's only 35 degrees out, I am COLD. Remember that 35 degrees is still a good 70 degrees colder than I'm used to.

This morning, it was 54 degrees out on my way to work. Now with windchill (at 80+ mph wind speed), that is DAMN cold. At least for me.

I'm not saying I'm going to pack it in, as I was still grinning ear to ear even as my nipples ripped holes in my shirt. I'm just saying that the time to get some warmer gear has definitely arrived.

For the time being, I'm going to haul out my trusty army surplus camo jacket. Camo is always fashionable, if not with the hipsters, then with the punks, or the metal heads, and barring those guys, the rat bikers will never snub a guy in greasy camo.

And if anyone asks me if I'm going duck hunting, I'm going to kick them in the shins with my stompy-boots.

Shopping for a New (or gently used) Bike.

The fact that Lady Luck likes riding with me so much really throws my whole "get a new bike" plan out of whack. You see, passengers start complaining if they're uncomfortable. So that throws two of my choices right out of the running. SV650s and Buells are not reknowned for their comfy pillion accomodations.

As I've said before, I'm not interested in BMWs.

So, what have I got to choose from?

Well, Triumph has some pretty bikes. The Scrambler 900 definitely turns my crank. It only makes slightly more power than my current bike, though. The Bonneville T100 is very tasty. And it makes more horsepower than the Scrambler. The plain ol' Bonneville comes in black on black, with some more black thrown in for good measure.

You know I like that.

The Triumph Speedmaster is a tasty cruiser, but it doesn't look like the passenger would be too happy on there. I'll have to bring her with and find out.

Their prices are right in my range. I've never heard anyone extolling the reliability of their Triumph, though.

Moving on, there is the HD Sportster. I like the 883, it's cheap and will run on 87 octane. On the other hand, the 1200 is only slightly more expensive (I prefer black, which happens to be the cheapest color!), and looks a little more passenger-worthy. The problem with any harley is that I have to get a new carb and exhaust (Genuine Motor Accessories) before it will perform worth a damn.

There are, of course, a delightful array of Japanese cruisers. I'm going back and forth between a couple of Honda, Yamaha, and Kawasaki cruisers. I'm sure I could flip a coin on those and end up with a decent bike.

What to do, what to do?

Get Back in Your Own Lane!

I nearly got smooshed on my way in to work this morning. Some guy decided he really needed to be where I was. Luckily, I was prepared for such a silly decision by a cager and avoided his intrusion like a middle manager avoiding work.

But, just as a refresher, here are the motorcyclist's rules of the road:

1. Never trust a blind idiot driving a cage.
2. Everyone driving a cage is a blind idiot.

Metal, how do I love thee?

One of those commonly accepted "truths" parents and teachers use to reassure themselves is that all the little dirtball headbangers will outgrow heavy metal once they're adults, and will go on to enjoy a normal life, consume respectable music, get a house, kids, a tv, an SUV and otherwise join the consumer, wage-slave chain of life.

Except, some of those kids weren't just listening to metal to shock their parents. Some of them actually liked metal. In fact, some of them really, really, really liked metal, and couldn't understand people who didn't like metal.

I can remember the first, true "metal" song I heard (Warrant doesn't count. And I was 13, so you'll have to excuse my taste.). A friend had given me Motley Crue's "Dr. Feelgood" album. If you've heard it, you know that the very first riff on the album is pure METAL. Thunderous, primal, dark, and heavy like a coked up elephant, I was hooked.

Shortly after that, I moved to Sweden. Metal was not a popular genre at the school I went to. There were a couple kids who dug Metallica. Swedish death metal was just starting to really become something at that time. There was an assistant art teacher at my school who let me listen to a little bit on his headphones. I can't remember the band, or even the song, but I do remember having my 14 year old mind blown. The first taste is always free.

The thing is, I never outgrew metal. Obviously, I began to appreciate other kinds of music, but metal is my true musical love. Stoner metal, speed metal, death metal, thrash, math metal, prog metal, hardcore, power metal, New Wave of British Metal, Metal-Metal-Metal, I love it all. The only kind of metal I don't really like is Nu-Metal. Sure, there are a couple of good Nu-Metal songs, but overall it's the same "alternative" formula, only with detuned guitars. Whine whine whine, look at me I'm making metal with feelings. Hurl.

Now, much like my love for metal, I have loved motorcycles since the first taste when I was little. The first motorcycle I got a ride on was terrifyingly loud, buzzy, and hot. I thought it was awesome. By the time I got off, I think my heart was running in time with the motor.

Since then, every ride has reaffirmed how much I love motorcycles. It's the same primal rush that I get when I hear a killer new metal band.

I'm not picky about motorcycles, either. I love them ALL, to varying extents. Cruisers, sportbikes, dirtbikes, dual-sports, mini-bikes, bobbers, choppers.... Well, maybe not "choppers," but bobbers, board-track racers, mopeds, scooters and the rest are all good by me.

I'm probably not going to outgrow heavy metal, and I really don't think I'm ever going to outgrow motorcycles, either. I'm ok with that.

One More Weekend Spent Boozing and Carousing

Or not. I spent the weekend at a metal patina and finishing workshop. Learned how to use chemicals to make metals rust in a pretty way, how to use paints that have such a huge amount of metal in them that it is possible to patina them, the various uses and applications of wax and, of course, the joys of solvent dyes.

I'm significantly smarter now.

There were, of course, other riders at the class. One of them came over and asked what a VX800 is. So I told her "Well, it's a motorcycle." Then I told her a bit more about it, since she wasn't being a jerk.

And that was about it for my weekend. I got about 70 miles of riding in, and even had some pizza (at the workshop).

Snowbirds all over the roads.

For those of you who don't live in the southwest, snowbirds are retired people who flock to Arizona as soon as the "good" months are over in their states. That means that the population of Arizona increases significantly every November.

The funny thing about snowbirds is that they really don't seem to do anything besides go out and drive around. Are they looking for their lost youth? I don't know, but they sure aren't looking for motorcycles.

The sheer number of cars on the road today amazed me. The number of times I had to dodge some idiot who wanted to prove that two objects can occupy the same space at the same time also amazed me. Do the laws of physics no longer apply to retirees?

I believe it is necessary for me to found a "Snowbird Driving School." In my school, these drivers will learn how to check their mirrors and blind spots before changing lanes, how to drive at speeds meeting (and possibly exceeding when needed) the speed limit, while avoiding tailgating and general rudeness.

Mistakes will be corrected by application of high voltage, low current electrical shocks to the students toes.

Now, before someone complains, I'd like to say that there are most likely some snowbirds that can drive, and do so sparingly and courteously. I haven't seen any, but they're probably out there. Somewhere.

These Boots Are Made For Stompin'

Lady Luck got me a great pair of riding boots for xmas last year. These are boots that inspire fear in those things on the wrong side of them. These are boots to conquer the world with. These are boots for slogging through the thick muck of the modern world.

And they have a comfy padded liner.

One thing the boots are NOT intended for is extended walks. By extended, I mean further than front door to bike. To paraphrase one of my favorite jokes by Gallagher, of course bikers are going to act like they want to fight you; they know they can't run.

So, most of the time I've been wearing a pair of Doc Martens. They aren't the greatest riding boots, but they do the trick and I can wear them all day.

Lady Luck pointed out to me the other day that I could leave a pair of shoes at work and just change into them when I got to the office. Brilliance.

Today I brought a pair of shoes with me to work, and wore my big ol' stompy boots. They're so much better to ride in it's kind of ridiculous. Floorboards? Who needs 'em? And down-shifting is a whole new joy. Lead foot indeed!

Learn to cross the street, lady!

At a very busy (six lane) intersection on my way home from work last night, I was getting ready to turn right. There were a bunch of pedestrians in the crosswalk, so I waited for them to cross. Some woman with a kid who apparently was just learning to walk was crossing. She was leading this little kid by the hand across SIX LANES OF TRAFFIC. I'd like to emphasize that this was a very young child. Like two.

It took about 30 seconds for them to make it across my lane. Then they started to cross the other road, ANOTHER SIX LANES, the same way. So, I waited for them to get ALL the way through my lane (another 4 minutes or so). Meanwhile, some guy in a vehicle named after an experience he'll never have (expedition / navigator / hummer) is two feet behind my ass HONKING.

You can see why I might be a little distracted by the time I started actually turning right. Halfway through my turn, I nearly stalled (distracted), so I snatch the clutch and the engine revs WAY up. Once I've got my shit together again, I hear this woman yelling at ME.

Lady, pick your goddam kid up when you're crossing the road and you won't EVER have to hear a frazzled commuter rev their engine in your beatific presence. And have a nice motherfucking day.