Motorcycle Commuting and Commitment

Gas will never be $2.00 a gallon again, and the rain has stopped, so you find yourself thinking about the dust-covered motorcycle that’s been sitting dormant in the garage for three years. Or you think about Bob down the street who mentioned last week that he was selling his old Honda. Or you just picked up a “basket case” at a yard sale for $100 that the seller swore up and down only needed a tune up to get ‘er runnin’ good.

After you realize that all of these prospects will cost you several hundred dollars (or more) to make road worthy, you press ahead anyway, justifying it with the savings you’ll enjoy once you start riding. And you think about how cool it will be to ride a bike again.

But on that first day of commuting, amid the noise and congestion of those big scary automobiles, you are jolted to reality. The drivers are distracted by their cell phones and the application of their make-up in the mirrors. And they don’t really give a rip about the rules of the road. When you were safely ensconced in your car/suv/truck, these observations were minor annoyances, safe as you were within “the cage.” But now, out here on two wheels, where there is no such thing as a fender bender, those bad habits and bad manners suddenly carry a new weight and a new reality. Those people could kill you!

And it is kind of hot out here without air conditioning. The heat bounces up off the pavement, off the engine, and off all the cars around you. And the wind! Wow, it really dries out your mouth and nose, not to mention the buffeting your ears take from the turbulence.

Through all this, if you quell those doubts with a shrug, because deep down, riding is just plain fun, then welcome to the club. If they keep nagging at you, and you find yourself pining for climate control, cruise control, and a place to hold your latte, then just give up already. Sell the bike to someone who will love it.

Commuting daily on a motorcycle is a lot like marriage. It takes commitment and a willingness to accept the bad with the good. But with the right mind set, a little flexibility, and the right partner, it can be beneficial in even more ways than you expected.

Embarrassing Moments in Motorcycle History....

This is purely for the benefit of a fellow rider who believes he committed the ultimate in embarrassing motorcycle stupidity. After reading this, my friend, you will know that I got you beat.....

July, 1986, I was on a tour of the Western States and BC Canada on my trusty and beloved Yamaha Venture. As a much-anticipated part of that tour, I rolled into Yellowstone National Park to witness the natural splendor of Old Faithful Geyser.

The parking lot was a flat, wide open, easily navigated piece of real estate with well-marked spots and prominent sidewalks. Hardly a recipe for disaster. But upon entering said parking lot, what did my 20-something year old eyes see, but a trio of fine looking lasses about my age. Upon hearing the quiet-but-authoritative rumble of the Yammie's V-4, they turned to look. Of course they did. Why not?

For upon the two-tone blue beast sat I, the tank-top wearing, broad-shouldered and imminently cool pilot. They were looking, and I knew it. I was Joe Cool. Bad to the Bone. The Man on the Scene. I rolled right past them, mere feet from where they stood on the sidewalk, conscious of my oozing cool factor. Pointed the Yammie to a parking spot right up front (where else?) and prepared to dismount in a continuing aura of cool. Except......

When I leaned it over onto the kickstand, there was no kickstand. In my focus and attention given to being cool, I'd forgotten to put the kickstand down. By the time I realized this, the bike was already past the point of no return. Slam! It went to the pavement.....

The sheer volume of laughter and giggles from every direction was equaled only by the panic I felt at my inability to pick the bike up. I was young and quite strong, but the overloaded Yammie was just too much for me. Mercifully, a very large guy came trotting over and assisted me, without derision or comment. I think he knew there was literally nothing he could say to make me feel better, or worse.

And I never mustered the courage to make so much as eye contact with the three lasses whom I'd previously held in rapt attention.

So you see, my friend, while your mistake was a combination of ego, weather, and an unfamiliar road, mine was naked ego. By my estimation, yours was a common mistake, made over and over again by riders of great experience. Mine....I have never seen nor even heard of being duplicated by even the clumsiest of scooter riders.

Motorcycles, 4X4's, and Design Conflicts

I'm thinking of installing one of those trailer hitch kits on my venerable Triumph. With towing capability, I could get more "utility" out of the British beast. The Yamaha Venture I had back in the 80's had a trailer hitch on it and I towed all manner of dirt bikes and camping gear with it. I even went all the way to Michigan and back in 1987 with a trailer in tow (had the wife along for that ride - ha ha).

So, I could hook up a 6' X 12' utility trailer to the Triumph when I go into the BLM land to cut a couple cords of wood. But you object.

You say, "Wait a minute! You've forgotten what that motorcycle is designed for! It might tow a couple hundred pounds on a tiny little trailer, but you're talking about a couple THOUSAND pounds!"

I counter intelligently, "So?"

You emphatically counter-counter, "It's not designed for that kind of towing! It's designed to carry two people, to go fast, to get good gas mileage, to carve a nice line on a mountain road, to accelerate and to stop better than a Porsche! That's all it's designed for."

Correct.

So will someone please tell me why, then, every douchebag in a diesel powered 4X4 will try to out-accelerate me to the merge lane on a freeway onramp? Did someone not explain the design of the truck to them when they bought it?

The Case of the Cheap Sunglasses

This very morning I was riding to work and felt a tickling on my forehead, near my left eye. I thought nothing of it, perhaps a loose thread from the helmet's interior stitching. But 3 seconds later, a spider walked non-chalently across the lense of my sun glasses! Not a minor issue at 75mph in heavy traffic....

Fortunately I wear a modular (flip-up) helmet. I quickly flipped up the frontal "lobe" and grabbed the sunglasses with my left hand, jerking them off my face. I saw the little arachnid hitch-hiker still clinging to the lense. Ha! One quick blast 0f 75 mph wind will remove him!

Wrong. Held those glasses out in the breeze for at least 5 seconds, watching for him to disappear. Next thing I know, the traffic in front of me has slowed dramatically. Moment of choice: Slow the bike with the right hand only, or lose the glasses? No time for any other decisions.....

I hope that little 8-legged b*****d was still clinging to them when the truck behind me ran them over....

Fuel Tank Capacity, Fuel Line, and the Stimulus

OK, so your normally well-tuned engine is sputtering a bit. You've done the typical diagnoses (yes, that is plural), but can't figure it out, so you take it to the shop.

The shop calls and reports that they believe they have the solution, but they need your approval in person.

Upon arriving, you see (to your horror) that they have strapped a 25 gallon fuel tank where your sensibly-sized stock one used to be. WTH?

The tech explains that he thinks the problem is that the engine is starving for fuel, so naturally a bigger tank will solve this problem. You're wondering how the bloody heck you are going to actually ride the bike with that humongous tank on there, but you decide to play along for the moment. "OK, let's hear it run," you say.

He starts it up and it idles fine, but when the throttle is seriously opened up, it stumbles and misses just as before. The tech scratches his head, bewildered that he has not solved the "obvious' problem of fuel starvation. He begins to check the fuel lines for kinking and what-not, and that's when you notice the fuel line he used to attach this monster tank to the carburetors is only 1/8" diameter!

You encourage him to find a larger line, which he does and then affixes it in place. He starts the bike up and the engine runs flawlessly, at all rpm's and throttle openings. Then you get curious and ask him if he has your old fuel line sitting about. He does, and he retrieves it for you. You give it the old "blow through" test and find that you can harldy blow any air through it at all. That was the problem all along!

The moral of the story is that a highly-tuned engine (American Capitalist Economy) needs only a modest-sized fuel tank (Government cash reserves), but more importantly requires a low-restriction fuel line (fewer government regulations) to run efficiently. An enormous reservoir (Federal Stimulus) is useless to a highly-tuned engine (Economy, stupid) when it is linked through a tiny fuel line (numerous government restrictions). IN summary, all the American economy needs right now is just a modest boost of cash, but implemented in such a way as to infuse the cash quickly and effectively. If more of our elected officials rode motorcycles, maybe they'd know this?