Posts Tagged ‘Motorcycles’

Motorcycle Mania

Friday, November 5th, 2010

I consider myself a biker, as I’ve spent 27 years in the saddle almost non-stop and I’m still here.  Over those years I’ve seen some crazy things done by others on two wheels that have made me shake my head and wish that they’d not give the rest of us a bad name.  Never have I been so ashamed of one of my fellow two-wheeled enthusiasts, than I am with this.

I’m ashamed, because this unbelievable mentally deficient jackass, has post-facto earned the Moron of the Year for 2008.

We can laugh it, only because as far as we know, no one was hurt.  That said, this has to be one of the most brain-dead stunts I’ve ever seen.

I’m also a bit embarrassed  that  this didn’t come to my attention when it was first posted, three years ago.  Oh well, I can’t keep up on everything.

On a side note: If he had smashed up during this stunt, I wonder if the news would have mentioned that he was wearing a helmet?

Too Close for Comfort

Monday, August 30th, 2010

Normally I leave plenty of room for escape, but the truck in front of me stopped hard before putting on his turn signal, and with a car in the right lane next to me, I had no choice but to stop too close to the back of the truck. It happens now and then. No matter how much you try to plan for a getaway path, you can’t always make it.

I spotted the gray car coming up behind me, going way too fast for the road conditions. It’s raining today in Salt Lake City and is dark, cold and overcast. The truck in front of me wasn’t going anywhere, with its brake lights burning and left turn signal flashing. I was in the center of the lane with my front brake engaged. There is no way she should have missed the three brake lights, but she must have. It didn’t look like she was going to stop. I didn’t even have time to pump the brake light to add further warning, but she snapped to awareness at the last moment and weaved into the right lane to avoid me – by inches. The wind and rain from her backwash hit my helmet and back.

The truck made its turn and I took off in pursuit. I wasn’t angry: scared is the word. However, I wanted to let her know just how close it really was.

I pulled along aside of her and motioned for her to pull over. She refused to even look my way. She didn’t appear shaken, but she was cursing under her breath. I don’t know if it was at me or herself.

She continued on the path to the University of Utah, where I work and I pulled into her lane ahead of her and turned off at my normal exit. I was about to let it go, when I decided to make a U-turn and follow her. She was heading to the hospital, so I followed her into the parking garage and parked in back of the car just beyond the stall she took. I didn’t want to present any more of an intimidating stance than I probably already was. I killed the engine, but remained seated. She gathered herself and eventually got out of the car.

My voice was steady, calm and low in volume. “That was a little close, don’t you think?”

She began to apologize profusely, managing a couple of feeble excuses as to “not seeing the truck” or me and that she worked at the hospital as a nurse. She even made a point to mention that she worked on bikers like me, who came into the emergency ward.

I made a comment at one point in her apology, that I like to make it home to my wife and kids and that she needed to take more care in driving. Again, my voice was not intimidating, I was just trying to make sure she saw the complete circumstances of her near miss.

She apologized more and finally held out her hand. I didn’t remove my glove, mostly because I just didn’t think of it at the time, but I took her hand and gave a soft squeeze and shake.

“I just wanted to let you know how scary that was for me.” I started the bike, and turned back to her one last time. “Try to have a better one.”

As I left she looked a bit relieved, (she was probably fearing the worst with a biker stopping to talk to her) but she also looked shaken. I hope she is. Not about my conversation with her, but about how she nearly created work for herself at the hospital.

Back in Black

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010
Honda VTX 1800

Image from Honda, Inc.

I had finally had enough.  Although there was much I loved about the 2003 Goldwing I had, there was plenty that irritated and worried me.

Probably first on the list was the failure of the frame.  To save weight, Honda decided to use aluminum for the frame instead of steel.  If done right, it works well enough and it certainly did help cut down the weight on a motorcycle that already cashed in at 850 curb.  You would easily add 100 pounds to that if the frame was steel.

But if done wrong, aluminum can be very troublesome.  The largest worry is in the welding.  TIG welding is a real art and if done incorrectly, the welds simply won’t hold.  They had been done incorrectly on mine and many like it and Honda issued a factory recall to have the frame re-welded.

Though covered under warranty, it was the first down card against the bike.  Two weeks without wheels and no out of pocket expense of any kind was tolerable.  I credit Honda for doing the right thing and not trying to make a PR mess of it, but the worries had begun.

The second down card was in the cooling.  The particular year my Wing was made, Honda had some issues with overheating engines and as a consequence, they extended the engine and drive train warranty to 9 years.  Though it never became an issue for me, it was a worry nonetheless and a couple of times, in seemingly hot, but not overbearing temperatures, the engine was running quite hot on the meter.

Other little problems started to accumulate.  The cruise control, mute and emergency flasher buttons – all push to click, push to release designs – started to stick about year three.  Sometimes they would not disengage.  The emergency flasher was the worst.  I found out it was having problems the hard way, when I stopped along a tight pass in Yellowstone, which was occupied by a bull bison.  I hit the flashers to help prevent being rear ended and found that it would not disengage when the road was clear and I attempted to move on.  Fifteen minutes of monkeying around with the button did nothing.  I finally managed to apply enough pressure with my Leatherman tool to release the switch, but now I had a dis-functional switch and 2,500 miles of road ahead of me on the trip.

The worst of it all, however, was the plastic.  I’ve come to really hate plastic on motorcycles.  My plastic woes started with paint fading.  I regularly waxed the bike and it did nothing to stop the dark red paint from turning pink, in very little time.  Six years of sun exposure at the parking lot at work, took its toll and the “up” side of the bike (when on its side stand) was turning salmon pink.  It really showed up when I went to replace the outer cover of the starboard saddlebag door, after a dog decided to scratch it up with his nails, going after a very poorly placed bag of beef jerky my wife had left on the bike seat.  The replacement not only showed how badly the rest of that side of the bike had faded, but it also slapped me square in the face with the most unbelievable sticker shock ever.  We’re talking about a piece of painted plastic here.  It isn’t titanium.  It isn’t gold.  It’s ABS plastic.  I’d guess $15 to manufacture, including paint.  The cost to buy it?  $450.  It was one of the first times I can recall, when I was so flabbergasted by the experience, that I couldn’t even find words to respond.

$450, for a piece of painted plastic, roughly 22x13x7 inches in size!

There are many words one could use to describe this, but “insane” seems to be the one that boils up most frequently.

After my bike was fixed up from the fender-bender it suffered, I asked the repair technicians about the price of all the plastic on the bike and they revealed to me a fact that still has my head spinning.  Most bullet bikes, which have an all plastic exterior like the Goldwing does, are totalled by the insurance company after a wreck, because the plastic is too costly to replace!  The frame, engine and every other system can be 100% functional, but just replacing the plastic parts of the bike is enough to overwhelm the insurance cost.

Like I said, insane. Mind boggling, bat-shit insane!

This started the seeds of a dark, growing dislike for plastic on bikes.  Before the accident and the saddle bag door replacement, I didn’t have anything against the use of ABS plastic on bikes.  Now I find that I despise the very idea.

The next little issue which cropped up out of nowhere, was that I suddenly could not open the starboard saddlebag.  The regular release simply did nothing.  The “emergency” release from inside and under the trunk worked fine, but the regular release lever was useless.

The final straw which broke my proverbial back, was a sudden failure of the bike’s computer.  The Goldwing is fuel injected, computer controlled and pretty much laden with various electronic gadgetry.  Systems like this can have problems on any vehicle, but on most vehicles you don’t have to spend two hours of labor just to disassemble the fairing to replace the damn thing. With more parts than a Honda Accord, the Goldwing is complex to work on, which translates to time, which translates to money at $90 per hour labor.

In my case the computer was going out intermittently and with multiple symptoms.  First the speedometer would come and go.  Then the fuel injection warning light would blink like a Christmas tree.  Then the overdrive indicator would come and go.

This failure in and of itself would not have forced my decision like it did, but it was the final blow.  I’d had enough.  It was time to get a different motorcycle.

Plastic, it would seem, is impossible to avoid on Japanese bikes.  I’m absolutely certain it is to keep manufacturing prices down, but there is a lot to be said for the steel used in Harley Davidson motorcycles.  Now if they could just cut their price by 50% and increase their reliability by 200%, I might consider buying one.

I kept coming back to my original quandary when I bought the Goldwing.  I had spent months debating whether to go with the Goldwing or a VTX 1800.  I’ve always loved the big V-twins, but I had figured to go with the flagship touring bike, because I enjoy long distance touring.

Now, I just don’t see the touring class bike as all that advantages anymore.

So, I started to think about getting a VTX 1800.  There was only one catch, much to my horror, Honda decided not to make them anymore.  2008 was the last year of production.  Apparently, to save cost in manufacturing, Honda decided that the VTX 1300 was good enough and there was no reason to continue with its larger sister.

The problem with the VTX 1300, is the damn plastic.  Parts that on a cruiser would normally be metal, were plastic instead.  Parts like the engine covers!

That didn’t please me one damn bit.

However, the last time I had been down to the Honda shop I frequent, they still had a 2008 VTX on the floor.  At $14,500, it wasn’t moving quickly, though several would drool on it every week.  Taking a chance, I emptied my personal belongings out of the Goldwing, put the title and maintenance records in the trunk, and drove down to see if it was still in place.

It was not, but with luck, a black VTX 1800N was sitting on the showroom floor, waiting for me.  I picked it up for about $12,000 (you can find them cheaper if you’re willing to travel to get one) and traded in the Goldwing on it, financing the difference and within two hours was flying down the highway on the new beast.

It is very different than the Goldwing.  Some things I am going to miss, but some things I now have I’m going to enjoy again, as I used to be a V-twin cruiser man before.

As I’ve already stated, for whatever reason, I love the big V-twin engines.  At 1795cc, this is the second largest V-twin I know of (the Kawasaki Vulcan 2000 is the largest) and it feels wonderful!  At freeway speeds, it sounds like it’s idling. It handles very well for the size and weight and it has enough torque to pull a pickup truck out of a ditch. Apparently, I’m not the only one who likes it.

I will miss some of the creature comforts of the Goldwing, certainly.  I can’t complain about the drive train performance or the handling, but I won’t miss the rest.  I know it may sound strange, but I feel like I’m riding a motorcycle again, instead of some Japanese Anime battle pod.

Though the fenders are plastic, the gas tank and the rest are metal.  (I have never been so happy to be wrong before.  When cleaning and waxing the bike this weekend, I found to much elation that the fenders are indeed metal.  I don’t know if they are steel or aluminum, but they’re not plastic.)

Time will tell about the longevity of the bike.  I’ve heard some very good reports on the Web, so I’m crossing my fingers.

So, goodbye old Goldwing.  You had your issues, but you did serve me well overall.  I just wish that the issues you had, did not keep nagging at the back of my head with worry.  That’s why we broke up.

Now I’ll just have to see how well this big black beast serves me.

Back in the Saddle Again

Tuesday, December 1st, 2009

I was leaving the checkout when a young woman came up to me, presumably by identifying my riding gear, and asked, “Is the red motorcycle out there yours?”

My immediate thought was, this can’t be good.  “Yes.”

“I just backed into it.”

Definitely not good.

I followed her out into the parking lot and there was my GoldWing, laying on her starboard side, with the back corner of the port saddlebag smashed. The marks on the ground where the crash guards had dug into the pavement, told that the bike had been pushed about half a foot on the ground once it was over.

To say that I was pissed off is an understatement.  How can anyone miss an eight foot long, bright red motorcycle? I went to the starboard side, checked to make sure the kickstand was in the down position and picked the bike up by the handlebar and passenger hand hold.

After looking it over, I was estimating at least a $1000 repair bill, and the damage was slight. I asked the gal if she had called the police and she said she didn’t think they needed to be called. I informed her that if the damage was over $300, the police had to be on the scene. This might not have been the complete truth, as I don’t know the specifics of Utah law on this, but this is the general limit for most states.

She again insisted that the police did not need to be contacted and I informed her that she could call, or I would.  She called them and in the process called a male friend of hers, who arrived a few minutes before the police arrived.

The woman I was upset with, but I had not raised my voice. I didn’t lecture her and I saw no need to even talk to her until the police were on the scene.  What would be the point?

She had other plans, however, and proceeded to remark on how little damage there was and again didn’t see why the police had to be involved.

I replied by giving her a short story on how I had replaced the starboard saddlebag cover, which was $450 for the part alone, and was about to go into all of the damage I saw on the bike, when her male friend suddenly shouted at me, “You don’t talk to her! You have no reason to talk to her!”

I had kept my cool up to this point, but my mind was seething now. I wanted to tell this worthless little fucking asshole that no one here had named him god and that he had absolutely no authority over me, telling me who I could or could not talk to. I wanted to tell him how little I thought of his opinion and that I was only responding to her instigation of a conversation, and that if that he was so fucking worried about her talking to me, he should advise her to shut the hell up…

Instead, I said nothing. What would be the point?  His tiny little brain wouldn’t have understood the situation anyway.

No, I had only to wait for the police to arrive.

Her friend left after a few minutes, saying, “I hope it works out for you” as he walked past.

I replied back calmly, with a slight menace to the tone, “It will.”

A few minutes of silence later, a squad car pulled into the lot.  He parked next to me and the woman walked over. The officer asked me what had happened, and I told him the truth, “This lady came to tell me that she backed into my motorcycle, so I went outside and found the bike on it’s side.  I don’t know more than that, because I didn’t see it happen.”

The woman was instantly pissed and snarled, “Give me some credit.”

I was about to start into a lecture, but figured it wouldn’t be worth it.  How could I explain to someone who is already upset that I can’t give conjecture to the officer?  I could only tell him the facts and the facts were that I didn’t know what happened, other than she had admitted to running into my motorcycle.

The officer took her aside and asked her what had happened and though I couldn’t hear the conversation, I read her lips enough to know she admitted to hitting the bike and knocking it over.  She claimed that she didn’t see it, which seems obvious to me.  While she confessed to her transgression, I started to ponder what kind of living hell she would be in at this moment, if it had been a pedestrian she had backed over instead my motorcycle. Machines can be fixed, or even replaced if they are damaged beyond reasonable repair – but people can’t be put back together all that easily.  I wonder if she had thought about this at all?

Because it wasn’t just a motorcycle she hit.  It was a big red warning sign – an 850 pound wake-up call that she needed to slow down and use far more care when wealding the most dangerous weapon she owns: her car.

The officer went back to his vehicle, plugged the registration and insurance information for both of us into his report and printed off a copy for each of us.  This is what I wanted.  This is what I had been waiting for.  I now had a police officer’s testimony that she had admitted to hitting my motorcycle.  This is what was needed to keep the fight with her insurance company to a minimum.  Again, whether she understood this or not is unknown, but I would guess she hadn’t a clue. She seemed nice enough, having come in and informed me of the accident, rather than driving off – but on the other hand she could have been forced to do so, because the parking lot was very busy and there were most likely a half dozen witnesses at the time who would have pointed the finger at her.

Hit and run, even just property damage, is a very bad move.

So, whether it was her decent nature or self-preservation, I don’t know to this day.

When I got home I called my insurance company just to let them know what was going on.  I then called her company and filed a claim. The usual phone tag game was played and the bike went into the shop for appraisal.  The accident was on the fifth of November and I didn’t get the bike back until the 27th.

My estimate was damn close.  It was about $1200 to fix, though the shop missed damage on both brake lights on the port side, which I’m now having to send photos of, so that they can file this with her insurance as well.  My guess is I’ll have to eat it, because they screwed up the first time.  I won’t be pleased if this is so.

The shop was unable to find the exact replacement highway pegs, Mick-O-Pegs.  They’re still in business, so I don’t know how they missed it.  They replaced them with Küryakyn highway pegs, which I don’t find as functional, but honesty do find to be more comfortable and better looking. In the end, I’m not upset with the change.

One thing I do regret, which might have sped things up with her insurance as well, is that I didn’t demand a rental car.  I was out for three weeks without my primary transportation.  I won’t make that mistake again.

As for the woman who hit my bike, I have no harsh feelings.  I was pissed at the situation, not at her. I doubt she would have understood that at the time.

No, the only anger I have toward a person, is toward her little shit of a friend, who thinks that he has the authority to tell me what to do. I needed to keep things peaceful, so that the law would be on my side when it arrived, otherwise I would have stopped my conversation with her as requested and leveled it in a very close and uncomfortable fashion at him.

Saddle Sore

Monday, March 9th, 2009

GL1800I hit a milestone on my Goldwing yesterday, as I rolled over 50,000 miles on the odometer.

I bought the motorcycle in late September, 2003. Though I was one of those hit with the infamous Goldwing frame weld problem, it took less than two weeks to have the frame re-welded and no other system of the bike has come to trouble.

Of all the creature comforts and little blessings in the design, it is the engine which comes out being the most desirable part of the bike. 1,832 CC’s is hardly small and at 124 ft/lbs. of torque and 120 horsepower, the 850 pound monster still manages zero to sixty in four seconds flat. That speed of throttle has saved my ass from the Utard drivers more than once, as I was able to avoid blind merging, running red lights and other phenomena in the nearly endless menu of driver stupidity in this state. The braking is equally impressive for a bike its size, which again has saved my life more than once.

Either it is a testament to my willingness to compromise or simply to be satisfied with the way things are, or it is a statement on how well the bike fits me, but the only add-on’s I’ve installed on the beast have been highway pegs, power outlets and a GPS. Perhaps someday I’ll want a custom saddle, but so far my iron butt is holding out. Probably the most grueling ride I’ve done on this bike was a 22 hour ride from Salt Lake City to Minneapolis (including a half hour nap on a stone bench at a highway rest stop.) Because I was resting along the way, my failed Alaska attempt in 2004 wasn’t near as bad. Not that it lacked the miles. I went from Salt Lake City, up through Glacier National Park to Jasper, across to Vancouver, down to San Francisco, across to Akron, IN, up to visit family in Minneapolis and back home in six days on the road. That added up to about 4,800 miles total. Aside from running into a complete jerk posing as a border guard coming home from Canada, the trip was highly enjoyable.

I was trying to work out the money and time to hit Alaska this year, but financing simply isn’t going to happen. My wife and I are going to be spending far too much on house renovations this year to swing the trip. This leaves me with the conundrum of planning some other, less involved trip.

One possibility is to make a run to do the Tail of Dragon at Deal’s Gap, NC. This is probably the most famous motorcycle road in the country, following over 60 miles of mountain scenery, with one stretch of 11 miles of it holding 318 curves. Nothing gets a biker’s heart going more than a good road full of “twisties”. My only concern is just how popular the road is. There have been more than one horror stories of crashes due to riders pushing the envelope past their skill level. Being involved in such a skirmish doesn’t thrill me any.

Another thought is to hit the west coast again and spend more time in Oregon and Washington. I have a deep love for the upper northwest and wouldn’t mind spending more time in her mountain forests.

In any case, I’ll have to do some kind of trip this year. The winter has been a long one, with the most days called on account for snow that I’ve had in the decade I’ve lived in Utah. The cold doesn’t stop me, but icy roads do.

(Photo credit Honda Motor Co., Inc.)

Life is a Road

Tuesday, April 24th, 2007

Daniel Meyer has a style of writing that’s easy to get into. His ramblings are more than just entertaining, they’re down right philosophical. Of course, since most of his work is devoted to motorcycling, I’m biased in his favor.

You can catch his online work here.