New Tires Are Warm and Fuzzy

Don't you love the little fuzzies sticking out on new tires? They're like bubble-wrap, I just can't wait to get rid of all of them. So satisfying.

So last night I picked up the Triumph from Phoenix International Motorsports. I am very impressed with the service I got over there. When they encountered a small problem, they called to let me know rather than waiting until I showed up to pick up my bike. They actually called me to let me know my bike was ready. Nice!

The old tires were Pilot Roads. I hated them with a passion after the first week. They weren't sticky enough in curves, and it took too much muscle to move the bike around. They were a detriment to my riding confidence. On the upside, they lasted darn near forever.

The new tires are Pilot Road 2s. They've got a new multi-compound makeup which means they're hard in the middle and soft and sticky on the edges. Frankly, I was a little nervous about them, but the parts manager told me that even guys on all-out supersport bikes like them.

I have to say, the Triumph is a whole new machine. I'm so tickled. In curves, I start to lean a bit, and then hit the sticky part of the tire and the bike just dives into the turn and spits me out, confident and happy, on the other side.

It was rainy today, and I didn't want to test the traction of brand new tires in the rain, so I took the Vespa to work. I'm very much looking forward to getting out and wearing down the chicken strips on my new tires, though.

Motorcycle Dealerships Are Dangerous, Dangerous Places

Have you seen the new Triumph Scrambler in person? Good God is that a hot bike.

Also hot: the Speed and Street Triples, Thruxton and, well, pretty much every other bike they make.

And then there's Ducati. Oh, Ducati, how you tempt me. I had a seat on the new Streetfighter and just have to say: WANT.

Oh, also hot is the O.D. green Stella.

I really have to stop going to dealerships.

Heavy Metal Makes the World a Better Place

Last night my fearsome crew and I loaded into our dragonboat and set sail for metal.

It has always been my opinion that metal is best when it comes with a wink. There was a long period of time where metal got kinda, well, serious. And it was good music but, to paraphrase David Lee Roth, eventually it's got to be Miller Time.

And in honor of Miller Time, we went to see Korpiklaani - beer-loving folk metal from Finland.

If that doesn't sound like fun to you, I probably don't want to know you.

Anyhow, we were in for a real treat, because playing with Korpiklaani were a host of other, equally awesome bands. Like Swashbuckle. Did you know there is such a thing as Pirate Metal? Because I didn't. If you did know, and didn't tell me, might I suggest you keep that to yourself?

Check it:

And then, it got better! Because TYR came on. And if there's one thing I like more than Pirate Metal, it's Viking metal. Which leads me into a brief tangent: when Irondad came to Phoenix, he mentioned that when he'd described me as a Viking, he'd meant it with the utmost respect. And I wondered to myself, is there any other way I could have taken it?

Where was I? Oh, right, TYR. TYR is AWESOME:

Moving on, Korpiklaani finally went on around 10:30, and they were absolutely awesome! I wanted to give all of those crazy Finns a big Viking hug, and the rest of the crowd seemed to feel the same way.

This was possibly the coolest concert I've been to in Phoenix, just because the level of positive energy was so high all night. Even the pit was good-natured - the one fight that broke out was broken up lickety-split and everyone got along again. The guys fighting didn't even get thrown out!

So, Korpiklaani:

After all that awesome metal, we staggered back to the dragonboat, bloodied, bruised and ready for their next visit!

Today, I am one sore Viking. Good thing for vacation time.

Motorcycles Make the World a Better Place

I believe every time I swing a leg over the seat of my motorcycle, I'm making the world a better place.

Yes, really.

Mahatma Gandhi said "Be the change you want to see in the world." I'm not so bold as to compare myself to Gandhi, but I'll take what I can from his wisdom and apply it to my own life. And maybe, if I'm bold enough to do that, other people will too.

You know what I was to see in the world? People unafraid to go for what they want, unafraid to take a calculated risk, people unafraid to have fun. Fun is a social good.

I like to think, and maybe I'm crazy, that I've inspired one or two people to dust off the bikes they've got in the garage and get them out on the road. I know I've helped a couple people taking those first steps to being an awesome biker and even motorcycle commuters. I like to talk to folks when I'm out riding or walking around in my gear, and I hope they walk away glad they talked to me.

I like waving to kids. Have you seen their eyes light up when they see a motorcycle? It's because they haven't been burdened with thoughts of "being realistic" or "being safe." They just know a good time when they see one. A few of those kids might grow up to be bikers. Or, they might at least do their best not to run us down in their SUVs.

And what's up with the obsession with safety, anyhow? I'm tired of people telling me to be safe. Safety this, safety that. Look, I've got a helmet on my noggin, I'm wearing protective gear, and I've been trained to ride this thing. I don't ride like an idiot. I'm as safe as I can be, and I don't want to be any safer. Safety is an illusion. Total safety is a padded room you lock yourself in. You'll be just as dead if you get killed in a car, but you won't have had nearly as much fun along the way.

So maybe some people think I'm nuts riding in the extremes of Phoenix weather. Some people might think I'm nuts riding to work every day. A few people probably think I'm nuts for having a motorcycle. And there are some who just think I'm nuts.

But there are hopefully always going to be a few out there who see me and get inspired to do what they've always wanted to do.

And that makes the world a better place, I think.

The Most Awesome Schwinn In The World

Look at this kick-ass Schwinn Stingray. I mean, just look at it. You've got a motor, racing slicks, a yellow purse to carry your stuff in, and an ornamental seahorse. Check out the racing stripe on the banana seat!

And dig that chain locking the bike up. The owner clearly knows exactly how cool his or her bike is.

I was bummed I couldn't find the owner of this bike while I was at the library. Lurking nearby until the owner appeared seemed a little too creepy, so I settled for taking a quick picture and heading home.

Here's hoping I can catch up with the rider some time...

Tornado Warning? Let's Go Riding!

Those of you living in states with actual weather that changes from day to day might not know that Phoenix has been having some delightfully rainy, windy, stormy weather.*

Yesterday morning, it was actually raining outside. Naturally, I put on my terrible, awful, no-fun-at all rain gear. After 10 minutes of struggle to get into my rainsuit, the zipper on the jacket broke. Luckily, the velcro flap that goes over the zipper is strong, because there was no way I was taking it all off again after all that effort.

The ride in to the office was a bit wet, but not bad. The ride home, though... ho ho! Plenty of rain, and more importantly, lots of wind.

Riding across constant wind and rain, in my crazy opinion, is a heck of a lot of fun. You get to lean into the weather and it just feels so... purposeful. It's like being an explorer, only at the end of the trip is hot pizza and dry pants instead of hungry cannibals and scurvy.

So this morning, I rode in to work - of course - in the rain. And everyone in the office stopped by to ask how the ride was today and, more importantly, yesterday.

Here in Phoenix, people aren't accustomed to things like inclement weather. What could I have been thinking going out there with nothing but a polyester rainsuit and a helmet to protect me from the elements?

Well, between you and me, I was thinking "WHEEEE!"

Last night there was an honest-to-God tornado warning in my area. I didn't know about it, of course. We were advised to go to the basement. What basement? There are no basements in Phoenix. And besides, had I known there was a real tornado warning, I would have been compelled to go outside and watch!

I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. Maybe it's a Minnesotan thing, but whenever there's a storm, Lady Luck and I will go outside and, sure enough, our neighbors from Minnesota are all out with us watching the sky.

Safe? Probably not. Wise? Certainly not.

Fun? Oh yeah.

So, if you need to find me during inclement weather... chances are I'll be out in it, loving every minute.


*I told Irondad thanks for bringing it, by the way

Causing a Ruckus With Irondad

Whether you're coming from Colorado, Oregon, California, Minnesota or, say, Wales, if you visit me, I will do my best to make you eat pizza.

I will also try to make you eat pizza when I come to visit you, but that's a different story.

Depending on the day and amount of time to spare, there are a few contenders for where I will take you here in Phoenix. If there's a whole lot of time, I might take you to Pizzeria Bianco. I have to admit, the chances of going there are pretty slim, but it does come up for consideration. I might take you to Pizza Heaven (I don't think I've reviewed them yet), if it's a week night. On Friday nights and weekends, they have live music and, frankly, I prefer talking to the people I'm with over listening to a piano cover of Mustang Sally.

Or, I might take you to Red Devil. Red Devil opened for business back in the 1960's, which in Phoenix time means they're a traditional local eatery. They're darn good.

On Sunday afternoon, Irondad from Musings of an Intrepid Commuter came to Phoenix for a Monday morning meeting. I was mildly surprised to find he'd flown into Phoenix instead of riding, because I always imagined he was permanently attached to his bike. Apparently, he does stop riding now and then.

If you haven't met him, Irondad is good people. An amiable scholar and gentleman, and further proof of my theory that We Are Everywhere. Also, he's heck of a good sport about taking the, erm, scenic route to pizza.

Phoenix is laid out fairly logically, at least compared to St. Paul. This is good and bad. It's good because navigation is mostly simple. Except for the cases where it isn't, which I never expect because Phoenix is laid out logically. Right? So, of course, I found an exception to the logic after picking up Irondad.

Somehow, we wound up in the colorful part of town where establishments such as Kit Kat's One on One Club flourish. Whoops. Better still was ending up, oddly, in downtown Tempe.

I'm still not sure how we ended up there, but I expect a wormhole was involved. As it was, it took a little longer than planned to get to Red Devil.

The pizza was great, and there was good company, so that was a lot of fun. On the way out, Irondad got to meet one of the charming locals who was looking for a McDonald's, because he only had a dollar. Oh, and could we spare a couple of bucks?

No. No, sir, we could not.

So, I think Irondad got a good feel for what Phoenix is really like on this trip.

Unfortunately, he had to work in the morning, so we weren't able to start really causing trouble. Next time.


Anyway, Irondad, you're welcome to visit any time

Pizza Hacking!

So this guy banged together a wood-fired pizza oven out of a Weber grill and some refractory concrete, and he sets up his outlaw pizza restaurant in different places around San Francisco.

How cool is that?

Causing Trouble Again

So it would seem that I've successfully repaired the oil leak on the Triumph. There were no puddles of oil under the bike this morning, which is just how I like it...

Anyway, after a couple of weeks on the Vespa, getting back on the Speed Four is kinda... exhilarating. What can I say? I like fast motorcycles.

So after riding a more leisurely bike, it's very, very tempting to get into all sorts of trouble.

Especially when some guy in his car wants to race. I love it when people in cars want to race. Usually, I don't actually indulge in my urges to whack open the throttle and leave behind a hazy outline of myself that can still outrun some doofus in his pick 'em up.

But a cager who wants to race a motorcycle is just begging to be messed with. Although I wouldn't do this - because it would be dangerous as well as foolish - here is what I sorely want to do:

1. Doofus indicates desire to race in usual way (getting next to me and hanging out, then keeping pace when I speed up to get my safety cushion back)
2. I get into full tuck and speed up the tiniest bit, just to get doofus hooked
3. Doofus tries to pass, and I keep pace as we accelerate
4. I let him get the tiniest bit ahead, then pull up next to him/slightly ahead
5. Repeat step 4 several times so doofus thinks we're really racing now
6. Look over and make eye contact with doofus
7. Wink
8. Downshift and watch doofus vanish in my rear view mirrors

So maybe I won't really do it, but it's sure a fun dream...

What Happened to the Week?

Wasn't it just Monday?

So, today I found a solution to getting just a bit of oil out of the Triumph: a siphon. Duh.

After precisely measuring out "a bit" of oil, I checked the levels again, found they were OK, and fired it up to let it run a while. So far, there are no new oil puddles underneath. After I take it for a ride tomorrow, I'll know for sure whether or not my repair was a success. I'd take it out tonight but, you know, beer happened.

Tomorrow I'll roll the VX800 outside and try jumping it off the Mustang's battery. I kind of expect it will fire up without too much prodding. But then, I'm kind of an optimist.

Anybody Still Out There?

The last couple of weeks have been a blur of festive writer's block, at least as comes to moto-blogging. It's hard to come up with something new and novel to tell you about when I'm just riding the same route to work every day. I can only complain about it being cold so many times before you guys will start telling me to shut up because it's fifteen below zero where you live while I was outside in shorts and a t-shirt yesterday.

...For what it's worth, I had slippers on to keep my feet warm.

Anyway, the last time I checked in around here I was troubled by a new and bountiful oil leak on the Triumph. I may have gotten it fixed last night by tightening a bunch of bolts in the general vicinity of the leak. I topped up the oil last night and there was no new puddle on the floor this morning, so that's good.

Of course, I also put too much darn oil in, so now I've got to figure out a good way to get just enough oil out so I won't have to make a trip to buy more oil. What I need is a turkey baster with a long and narrow tip...

In other mechanical news, the Vespa ET4 apparently had sat too long and needed a new battery. It also refused to run once it was warmed up. Luckily, a batch of fresh gas and a can of Seafoam cleared that problem right up.

Seafoam is probably the coolest vehicular chemical I can think of. I'm considering adding an affiliate link to my site just to sell Seafoam....

Anyway, in other other mechanical news, the VX800 is reassembled once more. Of course, the battery is toast, so I'm going to have to roll it outside and hook it up to the car for a jump start to see if the old girl will run.