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Admin
- Supreme UFOB
- Posts: 34711
- Joined: Wed Dec 31, 1969 6:00 pm
Not really about a bike, but Suzuki-related anyway
When I was in about 2nd or 3rd grade, I used to like to roll a nickel down the sidewalk (we lived on a hill) and run alongside it as it rolled and bounced over obstacles and imagine that the nickel was me riding a motorcycle and all the while I'd be singing "solo suzukiiii!"
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Admin
- Supreme UFOB
- Posts: 34711
- Joined: Wed Dec 31, 1969 6:00 pm
Two blogs I wrote about my SV650
I'm sure I'll write about the GT380 I'm reviving soon, but here's about my daily rider....
"It's like meeting an old lover after a long break"
Yeah, so I hopped on my bike for the first time in more than a week last night on my way to a date. The first 'real' date since my divorce. This isn't about the date. It was fun enough, but wasn't the highlight of the night.
Just throwing a leg over the old beast is.
I've had my daughter for the past week. I couldn't ride to work as I had to take her to daycare. I love my little Emma to death. The only downside to having her is the lack of riding time. A very, VERY minor thing, but noticeable.
So I crank her up. Fires up on second revolution. Music to my ears. Pops and sputters as she finds her groove. Strap on the tank bag. Strap on the helmet. Slide on the shades and then gloves. Back her up out of the drive. Toss my leg over and feel her settle as she accepts my weight. Blip the throttle a bit to settle the idle. Slip in the clutch, click her into first.
Launch!
Front wheel just skims the deck through third gear. Stop sign! Grab a handful of front break, start sliding the rear. She comes to a quick stop; panting for more. Quick hard right turn and we're off again. Seventy yards later and I'm doing twice the speed limit already, and just ahead is a perfect chicane that requires a lot of body english to maneuver at this speed. As I flow through the one-way road, tree branches and untrimmed hedges grab at my shoulders to remind me where the edges of the road are.
Sharp turn to the right, stop sign right around the corner. Hard breaking while leaned over, feel the front squirm just a bit to tell me that I'm pushing hard enough. Come to a stop, feet still on the pegs. Quick look left, take off again. Now the fun begins.
3.3 miles of smooth-as-silk goodness that follows the curves of the river 40 yards away. Curves that a sedan can almost safely handle at 40mph. Curves that a good driver in a rally car can take at 70mph. That's the speed I choose.
Left, right, up and down the topographical contours of the hills. Fast enough to thrill, almost enough to scare.
Car coming ahead...Asshat is crossing the double yellow, encroaching on my territory; my life. As the latte-sipping, cell phone squatting yuppie makes corrective action to prevent splashing me across her Mercedes SuckUV, I lay on the battleship horn and give her a handy helping of the one-fingered salute. I blow past and concentrate on the road again.
Tall rise coming. Two hundred yard straight leading to it. Crest the rise, quick left hand turn. As I wrap open the throttle, the front wheel gladly escapes gravity for a brief time. We come back down in touch with terra firma just in time to toss body and bike over to the right to navigate the road.
No houses for a ways, no hidden entrances to hide dangers.
Now for my favorite turn. Blind 80 degree right hander. No right side shoulder; the hill leads from the road, yet is close enough that if I lean too hard, I risk brushing my shoulder against an unforgiving earth. Left side shoulder of the road drops more than ten feet. Trees on the lower side to not-so-gently catch me should I decide to continue straight.
Drop her into second gear, lift my tush from the seat, and start hanging off the right. Enter the turn just to the inside of the yellow. Just before apex, cut hard right to clear the turn and to dodge any cars that may have crossed the line.
Clear the turn. Crack open the throttle; feel the rear break lose for a brief moment in time.
Immediately throw the bike left, exercising my shoulders and thighs as I haul my weight to the left side of the bike to maintain enough traction to stay upright.
This is living.
All too often, the road ends at a stop sign. Turn left, and begin the drab, 45mph straights to her house.
Hopped into her car for the quick ride into downtown Annapolis. Yes, she was beautifully dressed. Low cut v, but just enough to be slightly distracting as we enjoy great conversation over roasted chicken and blackened mahi-mahi.
Pay the bill; walk around downtown to the local ice cream shop. Not Ben and Jerry's. Real ice cream. We-don't-take-credit-cards real ice cream. Mint chocolate chip for her, raspberry truffle for me. Sit out on the harbor, enjoying our cool treats in the warm humidity, watching the people walk past, admiring the small-penis yachts in their moorings.
Drive back to her place. Little more conversation. Prove that I'm a desirable guy by at least being polite to her two evil cats. Donn my gear, quick kiss goodnight, and I'm back on my bike...Looking forward to those curves again.
Am I less of a man for detailing the ride over the date?
And then on the flip side:
"It's like meeting an old lover that still hates you"
So, went out with a girl yesterday. Not for a short while, but all day long. Enjoyed the hell out of it. For some strange damn reason, she actually wanted me to play her guitar for her, yet this girl has more musical skill in her thumbnail than I do in my whole body. Hell, she even designed and built some strange contraption that is played using laser light. Tres cool.
Anyway, the motorcycle gods were not happy with me. I think I may have slept with one of their daughters at one point and forgot to call again.
Few days ago, weather gurus called for sunny and 75. My arse! Day of, 20% chance. I think they meant that 20% of the time, it works 0% of the time!
Hop on my bike for the 20 min jog to her place. Light sprinkles. No big deal. I'm a man's man. Little rain hurt nobody. Run over to Wally World to pick up some ear plugs, as I'm sure she doesn't wanna wear an old grungy set of mine.
By the time I get to Wally's place, I look like I've pissed myself because the rain, upon hitting my leather jacket, has no where to go but down. Big deal. I walk into the store, sporting the freshly-pissed look along with all my Power Ranger gear, hoping somebody snickers, 'cuz I'm in a foul mood and wanna kick some arse. Buy the plugs, step outside to the same drizzle. Look at the beast in disgust and wonder why the hell I've been riding all these years.
She doesn't wanna start. Takes a lot of foreplay to get her moving. Seems her front plug is wet. Contrary to popular belief, a wet bike isn't a happy bike. I think she's confused. Well, I mount her anyway and say to hell with it. I'm the dominant one in this relationship. She will carry me.
Few blips on the throttle and the plug dries. We head back out into the rain. Ten more miles in ever-strengthening rain. No problem, like before, I'm a man's man. I've just proven it by showing my dominance over this fickle, contrary contraption vibrating angrily between my legs.
Rain finally stops about 3 yards from her house. I step off and prove once again that the drowned rat look is sexy as hell. My nicely pressed New York Inc. shirt is now soaked at the sleeves, and when dry will prove to be wrinkled as it was when I pulled it from the "not-too-smelly-to-wear" hamper. Walk up to her door, and for some reason, I'm allowed in, even though I look like a psychopath that reads way too many anime magazines.
Did I mention the flowers? I, being the lady's man that I am, stopped off and bought a nice bouquet on the way over. Even mounted my expandable tail bag so that they wouldn't be crushed on the way over. Apparently they survived, no worse for wear, though I think that's because the downpour wetted them a bit. Who knows. Chicks dig flowers, or so pappy told me, so I did it. Wanna make something of it?
Flowers went over well, by the way. Boys, go get them. They work.
We hop into her car to go grab a bite. Even though she is apparently a crazy girl to accept a date with me, she's not crazy enough to ride in the rain. Well, not yet at least.
Now the weather gods are teasing us. We get back to her place and chat for a good long time (during which time she fakes the enjoyment of my guitar skills). We notice the rain has abated and decide to jump on the bike. Bad idea. I mean, I enjoy a woman's legs around me, but I should have thought with my other head.
Now the front plug is soaked. She won't idle, and when she does, it sounds like an anemic thumper. A couple of rough miles, and a few stallouts. I can see in her face that she now wonders WTF she's doing on the back of this bike, with some dude she doesn't know. I mean, come on, how good can a guy possibly be if he can't even master something as simple as a bike?
Well, as stated before, I prove my manliness again and she dries out. I seem to have that problem. Drying out too quickly. Dammit. We start riding about in true fashion.
Did I mention that she's impressed by my battleship horn? Nice and big, she says.
No curvy roads, as I was worried about hitting wets spots. Yeah, I like the wet spots, but in other places. Last thing I needed to do was rash up these legs that were keeping me company. So, mainly slab and some stoplights. Still fun, no matter what.
Uh oh, what's that ahead? Dammit! Clouds are thickening. No big deal. We hit some drizzle, it's all good. Then it really starts raining. Ach! Pull into a Double T for some good soup, and the worst service I have ever had by Miss Gold Tooth bitch. Pay the tab, not giving any more than the $1.08 gratuity that's automatically added to the bill. She wouldn't have gotten dick otherwise.
Back on the road back to her house. By now we're both good and soaked, but in high spirits. Get back and more conversation. Good times by all involved. Because I'm a gentleman (no, really!) I won't share all the details, but I will admit that she's a good kisser.
Hop back on my bike at about 11.30pm, and something just feels wonky. Doesn't surprise me. This bitch is all kinds of pissed at me. Maybe she wants a new lover. I don't care. I'm not searching for a new one, and with all the plastic surgery I've put into her, she ain't about to go find greener grass while I'm around.
Wobbly in the straights, worse in the curves. I've seen this before. She's decided to go flaccid at the most inopportune times. I pull over and check the front. Tight as any man would want it. Rear, well, let's just say that I could push my fist pretty damn deep. So I gently get back on and promise to her in my sweetest voice that I'll never bad mouth her again if she'll just get me home in one piece. We limp along home, just barely under the speed limit. Pucker factor was high near home, as I live on a very curvy road. She was wallowing all over the place.
So we arrive safely, and I text back saying that I'm home safe, no thanks to that fickle whore now stuck out in the yard to atone for her sins against her lover.
'Twas a great day for all!
"It's like meeting an old lover after a long break"
Yeah, so I hopped on my bike for the first time in more than a week last night on my way to a date. The first 'real' date since my divorce. This isn't about the date. It was fun enough, but wasn't the highlight of the night.
Just throwing a leg over the old beast is.
I've had my daughter for the past week. I couldn't ride to work as I had to take her to daycare. I love my little Emma to death. The only downside to having her is the lack of riding time. A very, VERY minor thing, but noticeable.
So I crank her up. Fires up on second revolution. Music to my ears. Pops and sputters as she finds her groove. Strap on the tank bag. Strap on the helmet. Slide on the shades and then gloves. Back her up out of the drive. Toss my leg over and feel her settle as she accepts my weight. Blip the throttle a bit to settle the idle. Slip in the clutch, click her into first.
Launch!
Front wheel just skims the deck through third gear. Stop sign! Grab a handful of front break, start sliding the rear. She comes to a quick stop; panting for more. Quick hard right turn and we're off again. Seventy yards later and I'm doing twice the speed limit already, and just ahead is a perfect chicane that requires a lot of body english to maneuver at this speed. As I flow through the one-way road, tree branches and untrimmed hedges grab at my shoulders to remind me where the edges of the road are.
Sharp turn to the right, stop sign right around the corner. Hard breaking while leaned over, feel the front squirm just a bit to tell me that I'm pushing hard enough. Come to a stop, feet still on the pegs. Quick look left, take off again. Now the fun begins.
3.3 miles of smooth-as-silk goodness that follows the curves of the river 40 yards away. Curves that a sedan can almost safely handle at 40mph. Curves that a good driver in a rally car can take at 70mph. That's the speed I choose.
Left, right, up and down the topographical contours of the hills. Fast enough to thrill, almost enough to scare.
Car coming ahead...Asshat is crossing the double yellow, encroaching on my territory; my life. As the latte-sipping, cell phone squatting yuppie makes corrective action to prevent splashing me across her Mercedes SuckUV, I lay on the battleship horn and give her a handy helping of the one-fingered salute. I blow past and concentrate on the road again.
Tall rise coming. Two hundred yard straight leading to it. Crest the rise, quick left hand turn. As I wrap open the throttle, the front wheel gladly escapes gravity for a brief time. We come back down in touch with terra firma just in time to toss body and bike over to the right to navigate the road.
No houses for a ways, no hidden entrances to hide dangers.
Now for my favorite turn. Blind 80 degree right hander. No right side shoulder; the hill leads from the road, yet is close enough that if I lean too hard, I risk brushing my shoulder against an unforgiving earth. Left side shoulder of the road drops more than ten feet. Trees on the lower side to not-so-gently catch me should I decide to continue straight.
Drop her into second gear, lift my tush from the seat, and start hanging off the right. Enter the turn just to the inside of the yellow. Just before apex, cut hard right to clear the turn and to dodge any cars that may have crossed the line.
Clear the turn. Crack open the throttle; feel the rear break lose for a brief moment in time.
Immediately throw the bike left, exercising my shoulders and thighs as I haul my weight to the left side of the bike to maintain enough traction to stay upright.
This is living.
All too often, the road ends at a stop sign. Turn left, and begin the drab, 45mph straights to her house.
Hopped into her car for the quick ride into downtown Annapolis. Yes, she was beautifully dressed. Low cut v, but just enough to be slightly distracting as we enjoy great conversation over roasted chicken and blackened mahi-mahi.
Pay the bill; walk around downtown to the local ice cream shop. Not Ben and Jerry's. Real ice cream. We-don't-take-credit-cards real ice cream. Mint chocolate chip for her, raspberry truffle for me. Sit out on the harbor, enjoying our cool treats in the warm humidity, watching the people walk past, admiring the small-penis yachts in their moorings.
Drive back to her place. Little more conversation. Prove that I'm a desirable guy by at least being polite to her two evil cats. Donn my gear, quick kiss goodnight, and I'm back on my bike...Looking forward to those curves again.
Am I less of a man for detailing the ride over the date?
And then on the flip side:
"It's like meeting an old lover that still hates you"
So, went out with a girl yesterday. Not for a short while, but all day long. Enjoyed the hell out of it. For some strange damn reason, she actually wanted me to play her guitar for her, yet this girl has more musical skill in her thumbnail than I do in my whole body. Hell, she even designed and built some strange contraption that is played using laser light. Tres cool.
Anyway, the motorcycle gods were not happy with me. I think I may have slept with one of their daughters at one point and forgot to call again.
Few days ago, weather gurus called for sunny and 75. My arse! Day of, 20% chance. I think they meant that 20% of the time, it works 0% of the time!
Hop on my bike for the 20 min jog to her place. Light sprinkles. No big deal. I'm a man's man. Little rain hurt nobody. Run over to Wally World to pick up some ear plugs, as I'm sure she doesn't wanna wear an old grungy set of mine.
By the time I get to Wally's place, I look like I've pissed myself because the rain, upon hitting my leather jacket, has no where to go but down. Big deal. I walk into the store, sporting the freshly-pissed look along with all my Power Ranger gear, hoping somebody snickers, 'cuz I'm in a foul mood and wanna kick some arse. Buy the plugs, step outside to the same drizzle. Look at the beast in disgust and wonder why the hell I've been riding all these years.
She doesn't wanna start. Takes a lot of foreplay to get her moving. Seems her front plug is wet. Contrary to popular belief, a wet bike isn't a happy bike. I think she's confused. Well, I mount her anyway and say to hell with it. I'm the dominant one in this relationship. She will carry me.
Few blips on the throttle and the plug dries. We head back out into the rain. Ten more miles in ever-strengthening rain. No problem, like before, I'm a man's man. I've just proven it by showing my dominance over this fickle, contrary contraption vibrating angrily between my legs.
Rain finally stops about 3 yards from her house. I step off and prove once again that the drowned rat look is sexy as hell. My nicely pressed New York Inc. shirt is now soaked at the sleeves, and when dry will prove to be wrinkled as it was when I pulled it from the "not-too-smelly-to-wear" hamper. Walk up to her door, and for some reason, I'm allowed in, even though I look like a psychopath that reads way too many anime magazines.
Did I mention the flowers? I, being the lady's man that I am, stopped off and bought a nice bouquet on the way over. Even mounted my expandable tail bag so that they wouldn't be crushed on the way over. Apparently they survived, no worse for wear, though I think that's because the downpour wetted them a bit. Who knows. Chicks dig flowers, or so pappy told me, so I did it. Wanna make something of it?
Flowers went over well, by the way. Boys, go get them. They work.
We hop into her car to go grab a bite. Even though she is apparently a crazy girl to accept a date with me, she's not crazy enough to ride in the rain. Well, not yet at least.
Now the weather gods are teasing us. We get back to her place and chat for a good long time (during which time she fakes the enjoyment of my guitar skills). We notice the rain has abated and decide to jump on the bike. Bad idea. I mean, I enjoy a woman's legs around me, but I should have thought with my other head.
Now the front plug is soaked. She won't idle, and when she does, it sounds like an anemic thumper. A couple of rough miles, and a few stallouts. I can see in her face that she now wonders WTF she's doing on the back of this bike, with some dude she doesn't know. I mean, come on, how good can a guy possibly be if he can't even master something as simple as a bike?
Well, as stated before, I prove my manliness again and she dries out. I seem to have that problem. Drying out too quickly. Dammit. We start riding about in true fashion.
Did I mention that she's impressed by my battleship horn? Nice and big, she says.
No curvy roads, as I was worried about hitting wets spots. Yeah, I like the wet spots, but in other places. Last thing I needed to do was rash up these legs that were keeping me company. So, mainly slab and some stoplights. Still fun, no matter what.
Uh oh, what's that ahead? Dammit! Clouds are thickening. No big deal. We hit some drizzle, it's all good. Then it really starts raining. Ach! Pull into a Double T for some good soup, and the worst service I have ever had by Miss Gold Tooth bitch. Pay the tab, not giving any more than the $1.08 gratuity that's automatically added to the bill. She wouldn't have gotten dick otherwise.
Back on the road back to her house. By now we're both good and soaked, but in high spirits. Get back and more conversation. Good times by all involved. Because I'm a gentleman (no, really!) I won't share all the details, but I will admit that she's a good kisser.
Hop back on my bike at about 11.30pm, and something just feels wonky. Doesn't surprise me. This bitch is all kinds of pissed at me. Maybe she wants a new lover. I don't care. I'm not searching for a new one, and with all the plastic surgery I've put into her, she ain't about to go find greener grass while I'm around.
Wobbly in the straights, worse in the curves. I've seen this before. She's decided to go flaccid at the most inopportune times. I pull over and check the front. Tight as any man would want it. Rear, well, let's just say that I could push my fist pretty damn deep. So I gently get back on and promise to her in my sweetest voice that I'll never bad mouth her again if she'll just get me home in one piece. We limp along home, just barely under the speed limit. Pucker factor was high near home, as I live on a very curvy road. She was wallowing all over the place.
So we arrive safely, and I text back saying that I'm home safe, no thanks to that fickle whore now stuck out in the yard to atone for her sins against her lover.
'Twas a great day for all!
-
Admin
- Supreme UFOB
- Posts: 34711
- Joined: Wed Dec 31, 1969 6:00 pm
forgotten pictures.
i was looking for something on my computer today and found the pics i took of my bike after disassembly. so i thought i would post them.
i dont have one of the bike before i took it apart, but im sure you can picture what it looked like. LoL
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... ip0016.JPG
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... ip0028.JPG
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... ip0029.JPG
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... ip0030.JPG
and here it is in its present state. the only chrome part that was replaced was the rear shocks. the rest of it, i polished by hand for a few months. there are a lot of flaws in it that you cant see in the pictures, but its my first rebuild. im happy with what i have completed so far, and a few more odds and sods and she will be road worthy.
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... itan01.jpg
list of new parts.
tires, tubes
lens cover rear tail light
chain, rear sprocket
fork gators (from a triumph
rear shocks (from a triumph)
all new cables
relined brake shoes
all top end gaskets
petcock, one carb kit (got to get one more)
new fuel lines, (would like new oil lines)
kick start rubber, hand grips
rewired for a key (the wiring was a bit hacked)
ive had this bike since 2003, i started working on it in 2004. and i will be on the road on feb 19th 2010 cause thats when i turn 30 and the government will let me put vintage insurance on it.
thanks to you guys here she does run!! and i drove it from the garage onto the trailer. but thats the only miles put on her since 1986ish my moms boyfriend got the bike in the 90's out of a barn from a guy that bought it in the early 80's and he never drove it. Me and him were talking one night, and he offered the bike to me on two conditions, i build it to the best of my ability, and that when i want to sell he gets to buy it back first. i of course gratefully accepted the challenge, and now its about 90% done.
hope you guys enjoy the greasy barn fresh pics!
Vince
i dont have one of the bike before i took it apart, but im sure you can picture what it looked like. LoL
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... ip0016.JPG
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... ip0028.JPG
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... ip0029.JPG
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... ip0030.JPG
and here it is in its present state. the only chrome part that was replaced was the rear shocks. the rest of it, i polished by hand for a few months. there are a lot of flaws in it that you cant see in the pictures, but its my first rebuild. im happy with what i have completed so far, and a few more odds and sods and she will be road worthy.
http://www.mediamax.com/vince69007/Host ... itan01.jpg
list of new parts.
tires, tubes
lens cover rear tail light
chain, rear sprocket
fork gators (from a triumph
rear shocks (from a triumph)
all new cables
relined brake shoes
all top end gaskets
petcock, one carb kit (got to get one more)
new fuel lines, (would like new oil lines)
kick start rubber, hand grips
rewired for a key (the wiring was a bit hacked)
ive had this bike since 2003, i started working on it in 2004. and i will be on the road on feb 19th 2010 cause thats when i turn 30 and the government will let me put vintage insurance on it.
thanks to you guys here she does run!! and i drove it from the garage onto the trailer. but thats the only miles put on her since 1986ish my moms boyfriend got the bike in the 90's out of a barn from a guy that bought it in the early 80's and he never drove it. Me and him were talking one night, and he offered the bike to me on two conditions, i build it to the best of my ability, and that when i want to sell he gets to buy it back first. i of course gratefully accepted the challenge, and now its about 90% done.
hope you guys enjoy the greasy barn fresh pics!
Vince
-
Admin
- Supreme UFOB
- Posts: 34711
- Joined: Wed Dec 31, 1969 6:00 pm
I honestly dont know, they were donations. the fork gators are held on with cv boot straps cause they don't fit properly but were the same length, and the shocks measures the same travel but they have that metal cover on them. I will check with the guy i got them from he might be able to tell me what they came from exactly.
And if any one wants to know, thats a rattle can paint job from canadian tire, its GM lime green, and only comes in the tiny little cans. had to goto two stores to buy enough cause they didnt have enough in stock. theres about 5 coats of paint on there.
And if any one wants to know, thats a rattle can paint job from canadian tire, its GM lime green, and only comes in the tiny little cans. had to goto two stores to buy enough cause they didnt have enough in stock. theres about 5 coats of paint on there.
-
Admin
- Supreme UFOB
- Posts: 34711
- Joined: Wed Dec 31, 1969 6:00 pm
I'll play.....
You have a great bunch of bikes Wayne!
Mine....
The Triumph Super III
The Mighty Buffalo
The CB900F
Mine....
The Triumph Super III
The Mighty Buffalo
The CB900F
