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.

Big Sucker!

Today as I was milling about the house in my old dirt bike hoodie and my old military issue pants, coffee in one hand, applying polishing wax to my moto with the other, I heard a knock at the door.  I said, "who could that be?"  So I put my polishing rag down and got up to look through the peep hole.  I didn't see anything but empty hallway both ways through that fisheye peeper.  But I was like, "maybe someone walked away and I can still catch em."  So I opened the door.  Nobody to be seen, and no distant footsteps to be heard in either direction.  But there was an object down by my feet I noticed in my periphery.  There it was, ordered on Monday, and at my door step Wednesday morning.  This was better than Christmas.  It was my new performance Arlen Ness Big Sucker air cleaner kit.  

I screamed.  It's ok to scream for things relating to motorcycles.  Yes it is.

  

     I quickly ran over and placed it in the prospective assembly area and arranged my necessary tools for the job.  I went to work immediately.  That's the good thing about being ADD.  When you're really interested in something, nothing will stop you from accomplishing your mission, completing your task, and I mean NOTHING.  20 minutes later some minimal reading of instructions, and heavy detail to an online Arlen Ness Big Sucker installation video (see I hate to read funny as that is), and she was all installed.  I hate to read so much, that I happened to skip a step or two and had to replace one set of bolts with some other ones, cause I even worked ahead of the video.  Just when I thought they'd given me some spare bolts, I finished the video, the part where he puts the long bolts on instead of the short ones.  Moral of that mistake? Just because the bolts fit the hole, didn't mean they were the bolts that belonged in those holes.  

    So I finally got everything in its appropriate position, and the whole thing came out looking like it was supposed to.  

Now to give my precious moto an oil filter change, pipe upgrades (stay tuned for my pipe decision making).  Oh, and a computer mapping download, which I'm wondering how long I can get away without.  Nonetheless, fun things to come with this dirty biker.

See you on the road!

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.