5 Reasons to Hate Motorcycles

I have heard rumors that not everyone likes motorcycles as much as me. I have, in fact, had people ominously warn me that some people hate motorcyclists. I've been trying to figure this out, and I think I've got it. So, here goes.

1. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. Can you believe these people out there, riding around on their motorcycles, having a good time while sensible people stay safe and cozy in their S.U.V.s? How dare they? What's up with those clothes? How many cows did you have to kill for all that leather? Why can't you be like the rest of us?

2. Jealousy. Don't you wish you could be as cool as that motorcyclist? Look at the mechanical incarnation of pure awesomeness he or she is riding. Now look at that wheeled brick you're rolling around in. Why does everyone else get to have all the fun?

3. They're so hard to see. God forbid you pay attention to something besides your phone and your hair when you're driving. Using your turn signals is hard enough, but now you have to turn your head and just look at where you're going? Screw that.

4. They're dangerous. Look at that asshole. He's probably increasing your insurance premiums. Doesn't he think of anyone besides himself? What happens when he crashes and he can't feed his kids anymore? Won't someone think of the children?

5. Naked, yellow fear. Ultimately, hate comes back to fear. Who knows what you're so afraid of. Pain? Rejection? Failure? Success? Maybe living the life you want instead of the one you feel stuck with? Yeah, I can see through your hatred. You're justifying your fear instead of overcoming it.

Fear is natural. It's a good thing when it keeps you from getting killed by an angry mastodon. On the other hand, fear is toxic when it keeps you from really living your life. It's toxic when you can't identify it and keep it in check. It's toxic when you start imposing your fear on others. It's toxic when it turns to hate.

Trying Another New Route to Work.

I've been writing this blog for over five years. Crazy.

So, here in the desert, the heat has arrived. I usually don't check the temperature, but on my ride home yesterday the inside of my helmet got hot, so I had to know. 109 degrees. That's pretty warm.

There's a woman who rides to work on a Honda Shadow and parks near me. She lives in the same general area that I do, and I passed her on my way in to the office the other day (I waved, of course).

When I arrived at the office, she was already there.

Of course I stopped and asked her what her route to the office was. It involved going a couple exits further than I do, and actually requires some back-tracking. I tried it out today, and not only did it cut a couple minutes off of my ride, but I barely had to deal with any stoplights. I've found my new Triumph route for the summer, I think...

And the Little Vespa is Sold!

Yesterday I experienced the fastest vehicle sale I've ever been a part of. A gentleman called me around lunch time, made a reasonable offer for the Vespa ET4, and we agreed to meet around 6:00.

He didn't want a test ride, so I gave him a quick tour of the machine, and had him follow me on the scooter to his bank. Title notarized, payment exchanged and in less than 40 minutes he was the proud new owner of a Vespa ET4 and I was the proud new owner of roughtly 20 square feet more garage space. Nice!

The Hard Way to Swap Batteries in a Vespa GTS

Most of the time, changing batteries is one of the easier maintenance tasks to perform. Unbolt a couple cables, lift a heavy plastic box, put a different heavy plastic box back in, bolt the cables back on to the correct posts and you're off and running again.

Most of the time.

But I think that Vespa deliberately set out to make changing the battery in the GTS as difficult as they possibly could. The battery lives in this little compartment between the floorboards, and it's crammed in there pretty tightly. Just getting the battery cables off is a tedious chore, and that's assuming you have a stool to sit on as your turn the bolts bit by bit until they're finally free.

I didn't have a stool. Last Friday, as I was looking forward going home for a weekend full of new motorcycle chains and hoping for some pizza, I tried to start the Vespa and discovered the battery was dead.

What I should have done was pulled the battery then, to bring it home and test it. Sadly, I wasn't thinking clearly due to frustration, heat and hunger. Oh well.

Lady Luck gave me a lift home from work, and the next day I set about finding a new battery. That was a nightmare in and of itself. Eventually, we went to the Vespa dealer, who claimed to have two of the batteries I needed in stock. We bought the outrageously expensive battery ($70!), and went home to charge it.

After a few other errands, Saturday was over. So, on Sunday, we went to put the new battery in the Vespa. Piece of cake, right?

We were about halfway to my office when I realized I'd left my access badge at home. Whoops. And, of course, the freeway heading towards our house was clogged up from construction, so we had to take surface streets. By the time we got my badge, we were starving, so we stopped for lunch at Ted's Hot Dogs. Incidentally, if you're in the area, I recommend them.

Fed and badged, we tried again. We arrived at my parking garage and I set about pulling the old battery. After about fifteen minutes of fighting with the battery cables, I discovered that the guys at the parts counter had given me the wrong battery altogether. My bad for not noticing when I picked it up, but they are the parts guys. They've got a computer to look this stuff up in... Oh well.

I brought both batteries home, and stuck the old one on the charger. To my surprise, it seemed to take a charge just fine. So on Monday I brought the old battery back to work, mildly concerned about what had caused the battery to go dead.

Turns out the battery was bad.

So, Lady Luck and I went back to the Vespa dealer, exchanged the battery for the right one, and this morning I brought it in to the office with me. Again. Over lunch I went to the garage and set about the chore of putting the battery in again. It's about 103 degrees in the garage, and there's nothing like sweating over a dirty motorcycle in business clothes to put a fella in a great mood.

The good news is, the Vespa lives once more.

New Chain for a Whole New Machine

On Saturday I had a new chain and sprockets put on the Triumph. All I can say is it's incredible how much a bad chain will decrease your riding enjoyment. Suddenly the Speed Four is a whole hell of a lot more fun.

Partly to celebrate the joy of a smoothly operating machine, and partly because I realized I haven't gone out riding for fun in a really, really long time, I decided Sunday would be an awesome day to ride out to Tortilla Flat. I forgot that it was Father's Day, and every dad in the world would have permission to take his boat to Canyon Lake. Oops.

So, kind of a slow ride behind a lot of boats. I'd been hoping to reduce the width of my chicken strips a bit, but no such luck. Between slowbies ahead of me, and trucks crossing the center line coming towards me, I was focused on not having a high-energy meeting with a couple tons of steel more than getting my knee down.

Of course, it was still fun because the road to Tortilla flat is spectacular, and a quick 70 mile ride will always put a smile on my face. Even more so with a nearly silent, smooth new chain on the bike. I have to admit, I may have ridden a little faster than I needed to here and there...

Quick Link to a Cool Blog

In 1919, a Royal Air Force captain rode a Henderson motorcycle across the United States. This guy is following his path.

My New Route To Work is Awesome!

Yeah, maybe it's a little silly to be excited over something like a good route to work, but you have to understand how hard it is to get to my office. The area is a maze of one-way streets, dead-ends and construction. Since there are so few workable routes for the area, traffic is kind of intense as well.

But, apparently some of the recent construction has paid off in terms of making my commute easier. You see, a particular road was closed and torn up for so long due to light rail construction that now no one uses it.

Which means I get this glorious road mostly to myself. The stoplights are almost always go-lights, and if they aren't, there's so little traffic that I don't feel bad just letting off the gas and rolling slowly until the light is green again. If I tried that a block over, I'd get run over by an angry coffee-drinker on his/her cell phone. There are also several sections of road that are visually interesting enough, to me, that I get a bit of a charge riding through them.

All told, it takes me maybe ten minutes longer to get home than it would if I were using the HOV lane on the freeway. Frankly, for this much ease, I'll deal with ten extra minutes.

And I wouldn't have found this route if I hadn't been trying to exercise the Vespas. So, one more reason scooters are awesome: you're likely to find low-traffic back routes you might not have otherwise sought out.

Which is pretty cool when it works.

When It All Comes Due

The sunrise on Monday was quite red. If I were a sailor, I'd probably be concerned about the weather headed my way. As a biker, when the forecast says it's going to be 109, I pray it means rain and not just pollution. And either way, a red sunrise is a noteworthy event. Kind of ominous.

Rain was not to be, but the sunrise foretold a special morning all the same.

I'd decided to take the little Vespa to work that morning. I had the garage locked up and all of my gear on... and the little sucker wouldn't start.

I would have taken the big Vespa, but it really needs tires. So that left the Triumph, which needed the chain oiled and adjusted.

I took the Triumph.

When I got home, of course I immediately focused on the problem with the little Vespa. I got the keys, thumbed the starter and it fired right up like nothing had ever been out of the ordinary. Of course.

I eventually got around to dealing with the chain on the Triumph. It's been doing kind of a weird pulsing while riding, and I suspected it was because the chain was out of adjustment. Well, the chain was badly out of adjustment, but getting it back in adjustment brought the pulsing and a new scraping noise into focus. Great.

Anyway, I rode the little Vespa in to work today, which was pretty trouble-free and enjoyable.

Then on the way home, the motor sputtered and died at a stoplight. And it didn't really want to run again unless I kept it above idle while stopped, until a couple miles later when it started running just fine again. So... something is hinky there.

Which means tomorrow I'll be riding the big Vespa to work, whether it needs tires or not.

I'm a touch frustrated.

Wreckage Strewn Along the Road, or, Bits Fall Off Sometimes

Ride long enough, and you're going to leave some wreckage behind you. Well, maybe not wreckage, if you're lucky, but certainly some debris.

Because you aren't a biker until something important has rattled itself loose and fallen to the road, disappearing into the other litter as you speed away, oblivious to your loss until it becomes really inconvenient.

To date, I've lost two license plates, countless bolts, and a variety of other trivial items that didn't upset me too much.

But this morning, I was kind of pissed off when I lost a bit of the Vespa ET4.

This week I've been feeling a little slow, if you can dig it. Kind of laid back. Also, the chain is out of adjustment and in dire need of oil on the Triumph, but really, I'm just feeling the scooter groove. Really.

Especially because in my new. slow, scootery groove, I think I found a new route that I like quite a bit. Buzzing along at a constant forty five miles an hour through green light after green light with almost no traffic feels like Christmas morning. So I was excited to experience scooter bliss again today.

At a stoplight this morning, I noticed a mirror was out of adjustment, so I tried to move it to a more optimal position. Instead of getting a good view of the road behind me, however, the entire stalk jerked back, and was suddenly loose.

The engineering on the Vespa is a little, uh, interesting. For example, the mirror hardware also holds the brake levers on. And the nut that keeps it all in place is tucked far out of reach inside the handlebar. So you can see why I was a little nervous about this situation.

For the rest of my ride to work, I did my best to keep the mirror and place, and hoped I hadn't yet lost that vital nut keeping the whole machine from falling apart.

I arrived, and felt around inside the handlebars. The nut was there, so I tightened it to the best of my ability. Of course, you can't get to it with anything besides a deep socket, so "as snug as I can get it with one finger" was going to have to do.

On the ride home, the whole assembly kept flapping around. About four miles from home, something bounced off the top of my foot, and I hoped that it was just a rock or my office ID badge or something else unimportant.

Nope, it was that frickin' nut.

The last several miles were nerve-wracking to say the least.

The good news, in this case, is that I happened to have the exact nut I needed to replace the one I lost. You'd better believe I've got that sucker cranked on tight.

So, now I'll just have to wait and see what's going to shake loose next.