Bars of change

    Two weeks ago I decided to rent a C container at my old place. It's the best thing. It's large and dirty, and has two wide swinging doors for easy in and out access.  I put all my stuff in there, and I still have room to party.  I back my truck up and kick it on the gate between breaks when doing work on my motorcycle.  My tools are all right there and it's just me and my things.

Which brings me to the other day.  The other day I fortunately ran across some handlebars.  So naturally as soon as I got home to the storage unit/garage I couldn't wait to get em on.  First the lighting situation, since it was night and my storage has no lights.  Solution: I aimed my truck headlights on the bike, and away I went disassembling the handlebars.  By the grace of my truck lights, I got the old bars off and the new ones on, whilst dropping a screw here and there, and spending valuable time searching for lost screws in the dark.  I encountered a couple hick-ups as I thought I would with the longer bars and the old wiring harness.  The break line and clutch were the main issues.  First I tackled the break line to get that thing to pull enough so I could get my right hand break to fit back on the throttle controls.  I had to undo two screws to free the thing.  One was a harnessing clamp under my triple trees where the break line was neatly tucked, and another was right on the inside of the upper triple trees.  Freeing the whole thing up was great.  Now my front break line dangles hap-hazardously so that I can have all the extra length so that my manufactured-to-fit-yet-annoyingly-neat front break can fit where it's supposed to at the moment.  The clutch cable was an easier adjustment.  I just undid some frame clamps that it was tucked behind, and it dangled enough to give me the length to get the clutch on and then I just tucked it back on the frame where it naturally fell.

Also, with the new position of my hand controls, the side mirrors didn't fit either. So I swapped em around, and finagled one to fit my left side so at least I legally have one, while the right one, well, it got ditched completely.  Figure I don't need two gobbing up my handlebars.

Once I got it all together, it was pretty late by this time, and I was exhausted.  But I jumped on and rolled it down the street and back cause I couldn't wait to see how they handled.  I was in love.  It was like riding for my first time again.  I was laughing and smiling the whole time I was riding down the street talkin aloud to myself and anyone who could hear or give a damn about how fun my new bars were.  Hahaha.  I slept in the truck that night.  But I couldn't really sleep knowing that all I wanted to do was ride my bike in the morning.

Night moves: 

My truck headlights illuminating the work area.

Morning shots.

Aerial-ish view.

love.

The next day when I was riding, I couldn't help the huge grin on my face riding around town.  It was a whole new experience with those new bars.  I never knew changing my handle position could change the feel and perspective of the ride, but it did.  The essence and body language is re-inspired.  And it was like my first time riding all over again.  Bliss.

It's raining again.

Los Angeles, you surprise me.  Just when I don't think I need to stay glued to the weather channel after a week of perfectly sunny riding, you decide to pour...for the next few days.  What gives?  I now have to take the four wheeler.  What about my sense of freedom?  Ah, but ok, sure, wash the roads, make them cleaner.  Feed the dry and thirsty plants, they sure need it.  But then, give me some good dry warm riding come next week, cause I'll sure need it.

Another short-lived stint of maintaining a 4 walled domicile is up once again.  I am free to roam the countryside without obligation, accept to gain an inner and higher understanding of myself and purpose.   The end of another promise to be engulfed by the clasps of responsibility, dedication, and expectation have evolved to a rather visceral pile of projectile vomit outwards onto the cosmic concrete seas.  Vessels of futuristic transport to worlds unknown, and portals to the past where I had once grown.  The open road.  A metaphor for everything untapped potential and endless means.  Hope.