SCREECHING HALT.

Dammit, I got laid off. No Stella for a while.

A decision, and a wait.

In the epic battle of Stella vs. Mojito.... The Stella won.

The Mojito was strong on all fronts, except for it's Achilles' heel of a whopping huge price tag. That's money that could be going towards my Duc/Trumpet.

Speaking of which, I really don't think the Ducati is going to happen. Maybe in 5 years when my as-yet-unfounded company has taken off and I'm filthy rich. Now to figure out if the Triumph will be a sound purchase....

Anyway, I think we'll be getting the Stella in about 2 weeks. Then Lady Luck, Baldy-beard and I will be able to all go out for the kind of low-speed hijinks only scooterists and friends of scooterists can appreciate.

Duck, Duck, Grey Duck...

Someone keeps bringing up that Ducati is introducing a 695cc version of the Monster, for the same price as the 620.

Dammit, why do they have to be so expensive to maintain? It's not right, I tells ya!

I expect that when I finally get my bike, it'll be a Triumph, but I'm always going to secretly want a Ducati...

Oops.

This is what stupid looks like. Yep, that's one of my front brake pads, worn down so far that the metal underneath where the pad is supposed to be is starting to shine through (apologies for the fuzzy photo, I was too lazy to put new batteries in the camera).

Well... I'm a dope.

Now, the brake pad packaging said that I would notice reduced braking power for the first 250 miles. What it should have said is "Good luck, sucker!" My front brake and back brake were about equally effective at first. They're starting to get better, but I can't wait until I have full friction again.

And now, for the "scooter leaning of the second" update. I'm going ask Lady Luck right now which scooter she wants. Guaranteed in 10 minutes she'll change her mind.

Lady Luck says: Mojito. Actually, she said "I DON'T KNOW! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

She's getting a Stella. You and I both know it.

The dangers of going to dealerships pt. 2

Yesterday I thought it'd be fun to drag Lady Luck over to Arizona Superbike to check out the Triumphs.

We walked in and I said to myself "oooooooh shit." See, in order to get to the Triumph retros, I had to navigate my way through the Ducatis. There are a couple of Ducs that I think are mighty tasty, so I had to hop on. The specific models were the Sport1000 and the Monster 620 Dark.

To be honest, the Sport 1000 was a bit too much "sport" for me (I don't want to be in a full crouch ALL the time), but the Monster felt like home. Truly, it was like they had built the bike specifically for me.

So then I wandered over to the Triumphs. The Bonnevilles and Thruxton were also extremely tasty AND sized correctly for me (unlike the Sportsters I checked out back here). Since I was there I took a look at the Speed Triple. While I dig the styling, it was not the bike for me.

While I was making a mess on the Ducatis and Triumphs, Lady Luck noticed a particularily tasty scooter over on the other side of the shop. Check this sucker out!

As you can understand, we left the dealership a little excited about all things moto. After doing a little bit of research, I'm pretty sure I won't be getting the Ducati. They're just too expensive to maintain (I'd need to get the valve adjustment done at least twice a year, at $250 a pop). So that leaves the Triumphs, well, triumphant.

Now we need to decide if Lady Luck is going to get a Stella or the Aprilia Mojito 150. Right now, we're leaning pretty strongly towards the Stella. And the Aprilia.

All I have to do now is finish the taxes and find out if we're going to get her a scooter next weekend.

The dangers of going to dealerships.

Yesterday Lady Luck and I got out of work early, and wound up swinging by the Stella dealership by our house, as well as another local dealer who sells lots of used bikes and other tasty things like Urals, Sachs Madass, and a delightful variety of scooters.

It looks like we're probably going to purchase a Stella within then next couple of weeks.

Meanwhile, I've been daydreaming about the joys of factory-ready sidehacks. Sure, they're made somewhere in the former USSR and are based on ancient technology. Sure, they're more of a bike for people who want to tinker as much as they ride. Sure, they have drum brakes front and rear. The fact is, they're damn sexy. And I could carry that Madass in the sidecar if I needed to.

I was disappointed that they didn't have any Royal Enfields on the lot, but I'll check those out soon enough. In fact, the dealer for those is out in Prescott, so I guess I'll have to make a day of it and do a pizza review while I'm at it.

Moto-Stealth pt. 4

"The folly of asking a masked man who he is." (3.4 points to those who catch the reference)

What do ninjas, sci-fi bad guys, knights (the cool kind, not the Paul McCartney kind), particularily awesome good guys, and especially frightening post-apocalyptic bikers all have in common? Face-concealing headgear.

Let's face it, there's little as withering as an unwavering stare from a (possibly insane) man wearing a helmet that covers the majority of his face. You could be happily grinning in there, but the person on the wrong end of the staredown won't know. They'll be busy assuming that you're busy grinding your teeth and plotting their messy demise.

Which reminds me, people don't know what the hell you're doing in there. Take the opportunity to make horrible faces at people. It worked in Spaceballs.

You know what isn't scary? Beanie helmets. Erik Estrada looked stupid in one, and you do too.

Full-face is the only choice.

Holy Crap!

The VX needs new brake pads up front. This weekend I went to buy some new ones, and of course they weren't in stock (duh). I ordered a set of brake pads, and they actually came in early.

That is the first time I've ever gotten a part for this bike sooner than I thought I would. Here are a few highlights of past part-ordering adventures.

Stupid Backordered Parts!!
The Agony of Owning a "Rare" Motorcycle
Wow! A Backordered Part!
Another Riding-Free Weekend.
Re-Backordered!

Make sure you're getting the most out of it.

A few tips to make sure you are squeezing every last bit of moto-goodness out of your bike.

• Never, EVER wash your bike. That is time that could be spent riding it.
• Unless you like washing your bike.
  
• Do your own wrenching, always. Even if you're up until 4am. Four nights in a row. In a parking lot. When it's 110 degrees out.
  
• Learn to do physics-defying wheelies. Don't tell your wife.
  
• Go through several tanks of gas in a weekend.
• Ride at dawn.
• And sunset.
• Park in your living room at least once.
• Scrape your footpegs.
• Wear leathers.
• Ride in the rain.
• Smile. If you're on a bike, your life is freaking awesome.
  

Moto-Stealth pt: 3

Don't be that guy.

If you're on a motorcycle, don't be a dick. Today I couldn't seem to get away from a group of 4 dinks on bikes. They first got my attention by flying by me in my lane going at least 20 mph faster than me.

Personally, I think that's just rude. Since I was on a bike, however, I was able to get over it. After all, it's legal for 2 bikes to ride next to each other in the same lane.

Later, as I turned around to run back down the road again, I saw the same 4 guys hanging out on the side of the road. They were just talking, so I didn't stop.

Not too long after that, I saw them coming up behind me again. Having witnessed their prior behavior, I just got out of the way and hoped no one else on the road would think I was part of their group. They all came flying by me again, this time riding on the double-yellow lines.

Personally, I don't split lanes, and I definitely don't pass in no-pass zones. I don't trust my depth perception enough to lane-split, but I'm fine with it if other people want to. Passing in a no passing zone is just an asshole thing to do, though.

That was pretty disgusting, but then they started harassing some guy on his bicycle. What the fuck was that about?

Ladies and gents, motorists have a dim view of riders as it is. Think a little bit before you act, and don't mess with people who didn't mess with you first.

Moto-Stealth pt: 2

Black is the only color.

I believe there is only one color that truly suits a motorcycle, and that color is black. Black is a color of power, wisdom and, of course, stealth.

When choosing apparel or paint, the only real question is "Can it possibly be more black?"

Black is a cure-all for the common motorcycle. Performance got you down? I think you'll find a fresh coat of black will increase your base horsepower by at least 27%, not to mention shaving precious pounds off of your bike's weight. Feeling sluggish or sloppy in the twisties? Black paint will put the snap back into your handling.

Hell, black even improves your gas mileage.

More importantly, you never hear women talking about someone being tall, violently pink and handsome. No, the operative word in that cliché is dark. Black adds a certain mystery to a rider and his bike. Look how well it worked for Johnny Cash, not to mention countless righteous, headbanging dudes.

You might say "Black is asphalt camouflage, and I don't feel safe being all in black." Well, to that I say that you aren't that much safer wearing a reflective orange vest. Sure, people who are looking might see you, but people who are looking aren't the people who run into you anyway. Nope, brightly colored clothing is strictly for people who can't get enough attention. The rider in black is confident in his/her own worth, and doesn't need someone else to boost their ego.

At least, not terribly often.

Finally, black hides grime, grease, and other road-nasties like no other. Why, oh WHY, would anyone ever choose one of the lesser colors? Personally, I stand by what a certain businessman of great reknown said some years ago: "Any color you like, as long as it's black."

Don't forget to smell the roses...

Or, as it were, orange blossoms. There is little in life as fine as a brisk night ride, with the scent of orange blossoms in the air.

Moto-Stealth pt:1

Quiet Pipes Save Minds.

Lots of guys want crazy loud pipes on their bike. I understand the joy of a little rambunctious cacophony now and then. After all, I play guitar, enjoy heavy metal, and have even been in a few metal bands. Loud is fun.

Personally, I like the decibel levels of my stock pipes. They're just loud enough that I can hear the engine at sub-freeway speeds (above 60 the wind noise drowns them out).

Loud pipes get attention, but a lot of times, I'd just as soon not be noticed. For example, when I'm screaming down the freeway and blow by a cop at a healthy 80 mph, I'd really rather he didn't hear me. I'm already hard to see, if I'm quiet I can sneak by unnoticed, all ninja-like.

I also enjoy leaving my house without announcing to all of my neighbors "HEY! I'M GOING TO RIDE TO WORK NOW!!" Frankly, I have a hard time dealing with how much they notice already.

Now I just need to come up with a catchy antithesis to "loud pipes save lives" that I can put on t-shirts and get rich.

Ow-Ow-Ow-Ow-Ow-Ow-Ow-Ow-Ow!

Apparently it's the season for the migration of tiny little rocks. For several miles along my ride this morning I got peppered by little bitty rocks.

Once again, I wondered how the hell people manage to ride in shorts and flip-flops.

Rain!

It's been something like 170 days since it last rained (don't quote me on that number). Today, it's raining and cold.

In a word, hooray!

Know Thy Motorcycle

Anyone who's taken a Motorcycle Safety Foundation class is familiar with "the box". The box is a 28 foot (I could be wrong about that) long rectangle painted on the ground specially designed to make newbie riders shit in their pants.

The basic idea is, you enter the box (on your bike) in one corner, do a figure 8 inside the box and exit the opposite corner. Sounds easy until you're heading into the box at 10-15 mph.

A few months back I figured that there must be SOME reason that they'd make us do that, so I've adopted a new ritual when I get home in the evening. I ride past the driveway to my garage, and then try to make the tiniest circle I can to get into the garage.

I'm getting better at it, although I've had to put my foot down more than once. Something is just uncomfortable about turning the handlebars until they lock and then leaning the bike even more in order to decrease your turning radius. Lady Luck describes this as "believing in gravity." Having leaned a bike over pretty far several times, I think gravity is only a theory.

Anyway, it's important to push your limits (in a controlled circumstance) to hone your skills as a rider. One never knows when some asshat in an SUV might decide to give you the opportunity for a practical road exam.

Tough decisions

Wow, a two-fer!

I mentioned a while back that Lady Luck and I are discussing acquiring a Stella for her to ride. Of course, this weekend she started having second thoughts about walking (well, riding) the path of the scooterist.

See, you don't hear about many post-apocalyptic scooterists. Much like me, Lady Luck's taste runs toward the flat black and armored. While I think we could turn a Stella into a most fearsome little two-wheeled tank, it'd still be kind of a cutesy doom. A cute doom that can't go on the freeway. Hmm.

On the other hand, post-apocalypse is 98% attitude. Lady Luck could totally pull it off.

You know, really, the hardest part of this decision is: should we buy it this weekend, or next?

Seafoam is my friend.

So it appears the problem with my bike was bad gas. I guess the gas station I went to was the equivalent of the Euro Pizza Cafe, for bikes.

Anyways, I got a can of Seafoam, poured half in and rode about 120 miles. Filled up (at a DIFFERENT) gas station, put the rest of the seafoam in, and the VX is once more running strong like a warhorse eager to crush skulls.

I love cheap, easy fixes.

Official Euro Pizza Cafe Review!

It's been a while since I've done a review, as you have no doubt noticed. Well, last weekend we spotted a place that looked like it was worthy. Last night, we went and tried it out.

Unfortunately, I lost my camera somehow, so no pictures. Sorry!

The Place: Euro Pizza Cafe
12645 N Saguaro Blvd # 11
Fountain Hills, AZ 85268
(480) 836-0207

The Pizza: "The Classic" - Pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, green peppers and hold the onion, thanks.

The Posse: Yours truly, Lady Luck, Baldy-Beard, Bo, and Baby-Bo.

The Crust: Meh. It held the toppings and it didn't make me sick. A solid 1 Crying Lucky.

The Toppings: The cheese was outstanding, and there was lots of it. Other than that, it was pretty unmemorable. They get points for at least tasting fresh. 3 Crying Luckies.

The Sauce: Apparently there was sauce on this pizza, because I saw something red under the cheese, but I sure couldn't taste it. 0 Crying Luckies.

Ambiance: Chic-Strip-Mall. Note that is different than Strip-Mall-Chic. Clean, "ambient" and according to some the view is excellent. There was some non-offensive art on the walls. The view is probably the best reason for going.

The service was absolute crap. We asked the waiter what was good and he couldn't tell us (which was the first red flag). Then he disappeared for half an hour or so. We had to grab a different waitress in order to get more drinks. The food was brought out in the wrong order (The ladies like their salads first, guy), and then dude disappeared again for 45 minutes or so. 1 Crying Lucky because the view of the fountain (of Fountain Hills) was pretty good.

The ride: Definitely the best part. Fountain Hills has plenty of hilly, twisty roads that can easily take you to a restaurant worth going to! 4 Crying Luckies.

Overall impression: Euro Pizza Cafe is the Voivod of pizza places; good enough that you don't walk out and demand your money back, but not so good that you'll want to repeat the experience and bring your friends. Adequate is the word of the day. A generous 2 Crying Luckies (the ride really was quite fun).

I hate to give a place a bad review. It makes me feel kind of rotten, like I'm telling someone they've got a dumb kid with bad breath. Unfortunately, sometimes someone needs to know their kid is dumb and has bad breath. At least then they can do something about it.

After dinner at this place, we agreed that we needed to go to Buono's to make up for it.

Taking the scenic route home

This morning I gassed up and hit the freeway to go to work. About 5 miles from my office, the engine missed once. At 80 mph, that's awfully noticeable, and I thought to myself "wtf?"

Then it missed again and I was like "WTF?"

Then it missed again. "W. T. F.?"

As I was getting off the freeway it missed again, and as I downshifted it backfired so loudly I thought someone was shooting at me. W.T.F.??

So, I got to work and pondered my situation: No truck to bring the bike home. No backup vehicle to drive to work tomorrow (the rat-buick won't start due to a dead battery). No lunch.

It's enough to make a burly, bearded rider (bet you thought I was going to say biker, eh?) cry like a little girl.

I arranged to carpool with Lady Luck tomorrow, so that's ok. Then I got her to give me directions on how to take the surface streets home.

So, I rode home and the VX didn't so much as hiccup. WTF?

I guess tomorrow night or Saturday morning I'll get a can of Seafoam and take her out for a good long ride (damn) and see if that takes care of the problem.

Now, about my scenic route home. Holy crap, it's awesome! At least 8 of the 20 miles are delightfully twisty, hilly roads. Best of all it only took 15 minutes longer than my usual superslab route. I think from now on I'm ALWAYS going to take that way!

Worst itch in the world.

Is there any itch as bad as an itchy eye at 80 mph on the freeway? Especially when your nose starts to itch next?

I thought I was going to lose my mind on the ride home today. My eye starting itching about 5 minutes into my ride, and kept annoying me all the way home. I tried blinking, I tried blowing air up at my eye, I tried opening my visor just a crack... it just kept itching and itching and itching and itching and driving me absolutely batshit.

Until I was able to stop for long enough to scratch it. It magically stopped itching the second I stopped my bike in front of my garage. I scratched at it anyway (it's the principle of the thing).

That was almost as fun as the time I broke out in hives while riding in to work.