Air Cleaners

I have my air cleaner off my bike and I'm looking or should I say, have been looking for a replacement upgrade for quite sometime.  Putting it off for so long, means my current air cleaner is now caked black with road nasties, and oil and dirt buildup is the obvious perpetrator as to why my bikes lungs aren't getting the air it needs.  I've been picking around the major biker part companies all morning, looking for good air filter kit replacements.  I went to S&S, J&P, Biltwell, and K&N sites to see what they had.  After seeing what shape options I had to choose from, I then started to compare the stats, particularly horse power gain.  Due to lack of information on some items listed on their websites, I had to dig into the products personal company profiles.  I liked how the K&N site had their stats right up front so I didn't have to dig for the info.  Their filters ranged from either a 4.4hp to 8.75hp gain.  The numbers are believable, but on the Aircharger, which I liked having 8.75hp gain, I was a bit more concerned for its stability, and durability, since I tend to be rough with things, and like them to stand up to my brutish on the road ways.  I then started trying to find reliable stats on the Arlen Ness Big Sucker filter I liked.  Some sites I didn't trust, cause I wasn't believing the trumped up horse power stats, and lack of reliable testing.  And then I found the review I'd been looking for on the Big Sucker.  They had good photos and they had it hooked up to a computer system, to give a reliable readout on the horse power gain.  It's about a 6, which is still less than the K&N's impressive 8.75, but I like the stable shape of the Big Sucker.  I'm still trying to figure out more options.  But I thought I'd bring you this little story of my hunt.  A work in progress.  I will have a new air cleaner kit on my bike by the end of the week.  The sooner the better.  Wish me luck.

A love story.

It's Sunday now, and the weather has been nasty for some days now.  It's cold in LA.  What the hell is this?  Right when I feel like I am ready to take a ride or two on a day off or so, the weather is a stalemate to procuring my desires.  A couple days ago however, it was so that I was aware the weather was going to be nasty for a few days, although Friday didn't yield any indicators of the incoming storm I'd been waiting for.  Nonetheless, early on Saturday morning, eyes still closed, I was laying in bed listening to the cars drive by on the street below, on what sounded to be wet roads.  My heart started sinking to the mere thought that my precious moto was sitting all alone outside in the cold rainy weather. I tried to talk myself out of such feelings because I know she's lived through weather harsher than this, but for some reason I was pained with the thought of leaving her a moment more out there, defenseless.  And I could not go back to sleep for the life of me, due to the nagging discomfort the idea of her loneliness was causing me.
     Rain pouring down, I carefully selected the dirtiest pair of jeans from the "to wash" pile, so that when I came back in soaking wet I could just discard them back in the "wash" pile and move into something dry and clean.  Then I threw on a measly shirt and my least favorite coat, and walked out the back door to the stairwell with my glasses and bike key.  When I got to the bottom of the stairs, there she was, drenched, and oh so happy to see me.  I said my morning hellos as I always do, and carried on a small loving monologue with her, such as how excited she was going to be to get inside the nice warm apartment, and well, she'd get to see it for the first time.  That's always exciting.
     I backed her away from the wall, and into the parking lot to get turned around.  I started the engine.  Lately, it's been kinda stalling before it kicks over, so I plan on looking at that while I've got her inside.  Anyway, she got to roaring, that faithful bird, and we rolled out of the parking lot and onto the first side street, rain coming down harder than ever.  I imagined someone might have seen me, and thought I'd bout lost my marbles taking of on my moto with nothing but glasses and skimpy attire for these conditions.  But as always I didn't care, and the thought merely gave me a good chuckle.  I approached the main street, but instead of pulling onto it, I made a harder right and slowly rolled through a river of water and onto the curb along the front of my building and on towards front door. I made a sweeping left arch and then steered a double backing right up through the narrow front door corridor.  When I got my wheel to the front door I shut the engine off and put her into neutral.  I leaned hard over the front handlebars to key in the door code, and turned the little finger twist and pulled hard.  Now that damn door has one hell of a pullback on it and it's a real pain in the ass to get open with one hand.  But, I got that door open.  It's a narrow door, so I had to shimmy the handlebars left and then right to get them through.  And I repeated that same process to get her through the second doorway, this time making a hard left to the elevator lift down the hall.  It was tight so I had to back up twice to make the rest of the turn.
     I was at the lift.  I pushed the call button, and there went the chugging of the old industrial lift motor as it brought her down down to me.  Thud.  It landed.  I pushed the open button, and the door started to open.  Years of piled on maintenance grease make it hard for the door to open all the way as it was proving today.  So I dismounted my bike, and stood up on the lower split arm of the door while pushing on the upper door, making their ways apart, until the bottom became flush with the floor.  I then aimed my bike in a diagonal fashion from the left corn towards the far right and into the lift we rolled.  But when my front wheel hit the corner and i realized the tail end of my bike was going to get hit by the lift door I had to rethink my angle.  I rolled back out and did a fantastic 20 point turn with the space in the hall to get my nose to point into the left far corner and have my tail in the right corner closest to the door.  This proved to work better with the way the walls were in relation to the lift shape, and I also had better access to the elevator buttons.  Down came the door.  Straddling my bike, we rode up.
     The lift stopped on the third floor and I opened the door.  However, there was a small problem.  I was looking at a huge concrete wall extending about a foot and a half from the left corner of the elevator where my nose seemed stuck, which didn't seem like an issue when I'd first gotten into that position, but now I was like, "well, here's how I'm spending my Saturday."  The quick thinker I am yielded me fractions of a second later with a little clever navigation of the bike, such as a little left steering and right leaning, and shimmying so that I got that front tire around the edge of the barrier, and rolled into the hallway.  It's a damn good thing I've got a straight shot to my front door from the elevator, cause all I had to do was roll off the elevator, and right through my front door.  Once inside, she was still shaking off the weather and so I grabbed a nice towel, and dried her off.  Wiping away whatever dirt and grease I could in the process.
     Happy.  I was happy.  And so was she.  We were finally together again under the same roof.  Just like we used to be when I was back home, spending all my evenings in the garage under a lamp on the concrete floor, sometimes the two of us comforted by a long strip of old carpet, classic rock playing in the background of my hyper-focused attention to my bike, and figuring out what else I could tinker on, or clean.  And there was no other place I would rather be.  Love.  This is love.

Run to the Foothills!

A couple weeks back I rode to San Diego to see some friends.  Now, I don't know what it is, but every time I go to San Diego, I end up in cold rainy weather.  So much for "Sunny San Diego." Saturday morning I woke up to the predictable grey matter in the sky.  It was a morning much like my other mornings in San Diego, mounting our iron horses and mobbing it down the road to Lucky's Diner for breakfast. Rounds of coffee are poured as we sit next to each other talking about our weeks, and the ride ahead. We finish breakfast by opening about a dozen fortune cookies splayed out on the diner countertop where our check would be if it weren't for Lucky himself hollering out some figures at us from behind the kitchen window where he was preparing a patrons breakfast.  We hear "twenty dollars for all of it," in his best heavy asian accent.  We smile back and forth at each other and put a nice tip in there for Lucky. It was a bit warmer after breakfast than when we'd walked in, which isn't saying much, but I was determined to shed a layer.  Pockets of sun warmed me up as the 4 of us on this day chased each other through the millions of San Diego freeway interchanges and on to a lovelier two-lane windy road with dry brush, red rocks, and old oaks.  Testing grounds for new mods and adjustments.  Figuring out how far we can lean left and right whilst letting the road naturally take a little metal off here and there.  Nonetheless, our small wooden outpost in the foothills was there to welcome us with refreshments, aka, jerky sticks, high octane sodas, and a round of cigars.  Up the road from the outpost was what seemed to be a biker wedding. We joked about crashing it, but I don't think that was anyone else's style but my own, so I found a spot of sun coming through the old oak canopy and warmed up on the benches while we smoked and joked.  Did a lot of talking about how great it'd be to retire up in the hills someday.  Did a lot of talking about goin back to school, too.  These days, ya gotta be savvy.  I figure I have some more schooling to get out of those ol' Veteran educational benefits waiting for me.
Anyway, just taking the first sick day to bring you my last tale of the Foothills.

That'll be my bike parked outside the classroom door.

Cheers!

Random acts of disappearance.

You probably thought the earth was round, but somehow I managed to drop off the face of it. So that must prove it's flat. At the dawn of this discovery I slapped myself in the face and said "snap out of it, Jack!" And so I did. I started to poked my funny little head out from under my shell and started doing things like contacting long lost friends, and doing things such as apologizing for my disappearance act. I for one thought it was rude of me, but whatever. All I could do now was rise above the hole I dug, and start swimming again. 

Maybe it comes down to the fact that I like challenges. Maybe it comes down to the fact that I'm oddly human, and rarely get a chance to feel like it because I'm secretly hard on myself and somewhere in this free spirited two wheeled beast is an overachiever. But I do have this to say, 2012 is the year of unabashed self understanding. I'm working my way back to those old self attained stress free mantras that I used to zen to. Here's to the cosmos.

Operation "be and do."

Switzerland

That is the Matterhorn directly in the middle of the range tip in the clouds.

I recall that was a really good throw.

Walking in a winter wonderland.

Raclette

Playing the holiday songs.

Candle-lit christmas tree.

Fondue!

And now for some photos from my last trip to Arcata.

Waking up and climbing out of the bed of the truck, 

to the sun climbing top the redwood skyline,

And playing the first song that comes to my mind.

"Summer in Arcata"

 Sangria mornings.

Hiking in the thick of Arcata.

Moonstone Beach Sunset

My bike as you've never seen her before.

       First thing first was figuring out how tall I wanted my bar. I wanted about a 2.5' bar and so we measured out the 3' mark on a 6' bar of 1/2" stainless. Using a medium diameter round in the bar bender I got a nice tight bend in the top. And the thing wasn't too bad to push.

Then Randy custom fabricated the bolt holes with a drill press. Cutting some small 1/2" bits of the bar he bored out two different hole sizes in either end to custom make the bolt holes.

 Here is a nice cutting shot.

At some point in the evening Adria brought some grub to the garage, and we feasted on burritos, took a little time out, and made some bathroom breaks.

Here is the freshly bent bar leaning on the bike. Also notice the newly upturned handlebars.

After the bar was bent, we mounted the custom bolt holes to the rear struts, and then put the bar up to them, and welded the bar to the bolt rounds. This ensured that the bar would fit perfectly on the mounts side to side.

 Here's the bar welded to the bolt mounts.

Once the bar was in place, and I had got the angle just right where I wanted it, we then went to town on the supports. This is the part where the little support bends get formed via an old Ford tail pipe and some pressure on the fender and you get a real nice little custom bend. The angle was duplicated for the second support arm, via the same bending treatment.

measured and cutting the supports

 And here are the gorgeous fin pieces freshly cut and fit and ready for welding.

fully welded

 

Here I am totally stoked about my new custom addition.

I could barely sleep that night, knowing I had a new custom sissy bar. I couldn't wait to strap my things to the bar, since I was tired of just slopping them over the rear fender or finagling my rolls with some bungee madness to my handlebars. I was soooo anxious to take her out for her first daylight spin around town. I dreamt of the open highway. 

     The next morning I ran outside and leaned back. Way back. It's like the holiday inn on that thing.

Never felt better!

Along came a cat.

That morning we all rode out to the radest cheapest diner in the world. Lucky's diner in San Diego. It's truly an experience. Like a time warp or something. The prices and customer service are seriously out of this world. An older Asian fella is the only service in the place, and he jokes around with the customers. You can get a 2 egg breakfast with toast and hashbrowns for 3$. I could live there.

Poaching outside the Lucky diner.

Tea bath, anyone?