I Don't Know...

...what the hell I was thinking. 

Yeah its been a while. Not sure if anyone is even watching this page any more :( Guess I'll just have to go back to work and gain 'em all back!

It's been a year and a half and more of stupidity, blown up shoulders, blown transmissions, humongous vet bills, pneumonia and finding out those who swore loyalty, friendship and partnership were only fine "players" that worked me with their pretty words...and meant not a one. Can you spell 'Sucker' boys and girls? 

It's left me bankrupt and busted in body and spirit. No horses and no scooter neither. Just one damn fool, a bat shit  crazy dog living in a high dollar horse trailer that was supposed to be paid for by horses and partnership... yeah... just a gen-U-whine dumbass.

So... I'm parked in the wilds of western Montana clawing my way out of the hole. Yep! I stopped digging soon as I saw clear how deep the fool already dug the hole. So the good news is, it ain't getting any deeper!

I have another harvest coming up over in eastern Montana in just over a month to start filling that hole back in. THAT work is my "new" to me Raider to start me back on Freedom Road.

A hard nut to Crack will be divesting that high dollar aluminum boondoggle I bought last year. One way or t'other it will get done.

Then it's just one foot in front of the other reconstructing the life I did a fair job of deconstructing!

I have a "plan"... no idea how I'll get it done. Just know that the only way is to start. Pick up my foot and step off the cliff. I'll have to learn to land soft on the way down!

-Brian

Storms and Tribulations and Difficult Decisions.

Ahhhh... It never seems to quit. The requirements of life consume the dreams of your heart.

As a bent and broken economic system continues to squeeze a good portion of the population... I feel that squeezing on my own ass. Problem is... my heart ain't in, and never has been, keeping my nose to the man's grindstone... so it complicates the generation of income...

I'd just as soon take that grind stone and break it over the bastards head.

Buuuuuut... they give you an all expenses paid long term vacation in a state run resort for that... so I leave the dream of busting the man's head in wonderland and just keep on keepin' on.

How-some-ever... the thinning income of the last three years and the rising cost of the slowly failing effort of keeping the rig together is pushing a couple of unpleasant decisions into my world.

The first is that come the spring our traveling is pretty much suspended for the foreseeable future. Heidi already returned to Colorado in December to go back to working in her store in an effort to get it back into healthier shape. That seems to be showing promise.

But, that effort is likely to continue for months and months. I stayed south... simply because I have come to detest, hate, revile... did I say HATE? Snow and cold...

Buuuuut... as much as I dislike that reality has a way of beating you into submission. Even if you are the most stubborn son of a bitch that came out of the womb.

Even if I wanted to keep on wandering... The old truck and fiver is just not reliable enough to make wandering with 'em an enjoyable situation any more. You go down the road holding your breath waiting for something to break... knowing there ain't no cash to fix it again. That and the simple truth that the dinero to make it reliable got consumed, what little there was of it... just trying to keep it running at all over the past year.

The second is the cost of correcting that thinning income.

Some folks are prospering these days... a whole lot more I believe are subsisting, pretty much hand to mouth... I'm in that second group, as the 18 cent a package Ramen soup that constitutes 'bout 40% of my diet these days attests.

I have to go back to work at a more "regular" job than I've been doing with my writing and such. So, I have the choice of working for the man directly or putting my custom leather shop back together and going after that again.

Now... the direct for the man option, for any sustained length of time almost certainly guarantees a visit to the "State Resort"... so that's pretty much a no go from the get go.

That only leaves restarting my leather shop... which ain't gonna be a cheap option. Leather stitchers aren't cheap, and I sold off the "heavy" equipment when I shut my old shop operation down. Considering the way our outfit has drained all the assets to an empty well over the last year and a bit... there's only one thing left in which there resides a material value that can be sold...

 :(  ... My Raider...

UGH... You're born... you get beat on for a while... often Life sucks big... and then you die... yeah I'm in a pretty pissy mood.

So... unless Amazon really gets with the program in the next six weeks or so and one of my lil' westerns for some unknown reason turns into a breakout... It looks like this Ol' Buster is gonna be sitting at a leather bench again... and bikeless... Tooling leather is fine, I enjoy that... but... the rest... just bites.   :(

Maybe I can figure a way to squeeze the dinero I need... solidly into four digits... out of thin air... I offered some tender kisses and my sweet Ol' Behind for a small fee to a couple of gals... they called the Poh-Leece... no sense of humor at all... so that's out...

... and like I said... workin' for a "Boss" any more... for more than a few days is... well... lets just say... that dog don't hunt... so we'll keep on keepin' on and see where I end up.

Real Mixed Emotions about the whole deal
Brian

I Think that Pendulum I Mentioned Earlier... is Kicking My Ass

The weather has been sweet... and here I am in the Arizona desert... not riding.

Fact is, Sonja has been resting on the back of the truck since she rolled up there when I picked the ol' rig back up after the blown tranny was replaced... some few days ago.

I'd just as soon throw a leg over and twist a throttle, say f$%k it and just go... but... it's kinda hard to do that when you pull off the gas cap and look in there... and the onliest thing you see... is the bottom of the tank.

Some would think that's not a huge problem... you just fill it back up. Buuuuut that there IS the problem. I've discovered that it takes more than my western good looks and amazing virility to claim ownership to a few gallons of gasoline. :-/

So, here I sit... bangin' away at the keyboard, trying to get some paying work done... or some work that has the potential to pay (it used to!) and hope for the best.

Then you pile on top of that, the season I dislike above all others... and... Bleh! I'm tellin' you... sometimes this gettin' down the road in life is a piece of work girls!

All a guy can do... is all he can do. Bang away at the work he knows in the best way he can and see where he ends up.

Just hiding out in the desert... lookin' for a pig to kick.

Grab Your Handles and Ride
Brian

He Wants to Escape... As If That Were a Bad Thing

Roll me Away ... A song that still touches my soul... forty years later.

 ...I've been told that climbing on a bike and Riding Away is Escapism...

The lies told about Escape could fill a book... They're all based on one, single, false, accusation. "He's a Quitter." ... "He's a weakling, he's got no guts."

"You just want to escape" is a slur thrown as an accusation of weakness of character meant to humiliate the poor bastard into submission; "You're trying to escape from Your responsibilities. You only want to escape from reality, You made choices and now you're only trying to escape from the consequences..."

Well DUH! Of course he is!  Reality often sucks, and eventually, even a strong man comes to learn that Running Against the Wind is an exercise in Futility. The wind always wins.

... There are all sorts of variations. The sad thing is most people are so un-thinking they just routinely accept the propagandized slur as bad. As long as it's the party line (and it's that "party line" that's the main problem)... the actual actions of the person involved, and their motivations, are never weighed.

All that's remembered is; "He quit. I've got no use for a quitter."

Context is NEVER part of the process... The "Bunch Quitter" is simply demonized. The man who "stays the course" ... though it eats his liver and soul, is Immortalized as the hero...

... while the one who had the spleen to wave good bye and step off into the unknown to find his joy is ridiculed as the fool by those timid souls left behind...

Seriously?

A person finds themselves living in a situation that one way or another is abusive, emotionally, physically or spiritually; Of COURSE they want to escape!

If you're in a building on fire, is ESCAPE not the sensible thing? If you are in a relationship; business, personal or otherwise, that is consuming the essence of you, consuming your spirit and joy... and fighting to make it work ~ has failed, time after time ~ is ESCAPE not the reasonable action?

If you're slaving at a job that injects an aching dread into your guts, that is sucking the life out of your soul, each and every morning as you approach the front door... is ESCAPE from that servitude not the self preserving action you SHOULD TAKE?

If you are a prisoner held against your will, no matter how long it's taken for that Will to come to be, is not ESCAPE the natural, healthy goal of any Creature?

If you've made choices along the road of life, which subsequently turned out to be very, very wrong for you; not evil, not abusive, not morally wrong... simply misguided, bad judgements based on missed perceptions or the misleading, misinformation provided to you...

...if after a good long while and heavy effort to "Tough it out and make those choices work" the clarity of their wrongness for you was made un-deniable;

If after all of that came clear to you... Wouldn't it be foolish to sustain the consequences of those choices in place, simply because you once made them? Simply because others disagree? (and isn't THAT, the imposed opinions of others, generally THE problem in the first place?)

Isn't it wrong to NOT take action to infuse a light into your life, rather than ESCAPE from the consequences of those wrong decisions and START OVER?

That old cliched saying comes to mind; "If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is STOP DIGGING."

Escape. More often than not, IS the adult, honorable and Right Choice.
It's Never too late to try again...

Grab Your Handles and Ride
Brian

ATGATT... Reasonable Care? or Unreasonable Fear?

Well, this rant isn't all about atgatt... It's a convoluted and fuzzy rambling about... surety and how the foolish quest for that, ruins the life that IS surely here.

There's but one thing that's for sure and for certain in this life... Death.

I am weary to the bone of all the people droning on and on and on about do this safe or that safe... BE SAFE!

Ahhhhh... I wouldn't pay a nickle for a pound of Safe... I'm weary of that anemic idea because it's all mostly baloney built on a base of unrealistic fear in the first place.

No matter how much care you take, how religiously you eat your vegetables, no matter how skilled the Doctor or how well your preacher has the ear of God... You my friend... are going to Die.

As long as I can remember I've been propagandized with the idea, in one form or another, to always turn away at risk. Avoid it like the plague. Only foolish people take risks. Risk takers are some sort of whack job.

The reality is, nothing happens without RISK. Adventure is RISK. Excitement can't happen... without RISK.

The reality is, that psychotic, trained in fear of all the things that could go wrong... is surrendering to cowardice under the color of reasonable care.

Life is a dreary and grey place... absent of RISK.

Now... listen up... I'm saying RISK... not STUPIDITY. Accepting Risk doesn't mean ignoring  common sense. It means weighing the benefits, playing the odds and having confidence in your abilities...

OF course... if you believe you can outrun that grizzly after you poke that ugly basket thief in the butt with your sharp stick... I've got my video camera warmed up and focused...

***a bit of a sideline*** just to say it... the base source of this malicious idea of "safety" is our "Leadership". The leaders of Society don't want excited, adventurous spirits taking risks. They want obedient, quiet, productive serfs laboring in safe and reasonable pursuits. (adventurous people are difficult to control) They want those laboring, fearful masses working for them... so THEY the leadership can go out and adventure, sky dive, climb mountains, TAKE RISKS and enjoy LIFE while the rest of us support them***

I've allowed too much of my life to be stolen by that never ending droning about all the dangers of this life and their avoidance; this toxin, that seat belt, red meat, safe sex, crap in the water, crap n the air, speeding, drinking, smoking, running with a fork in your hand, bucking horses, saving money, mercury fillings, genetically modified food, cancer from your cell phone, flu shots, colon cancer, calm down you'll get a heart attack... blah blah blah...

Ugh... I Vow... more people have died from the worry piled on 'em about what might could kill 'em... than from any of those multitude of options that in the end don't matter... 'cause in the end we all end up in the same place...

... The belly of a worm burping and rubbing his stomach; "Damn! That was one good Biker!"

But even worse; While you sit around waiting to die... because once all the risks are seen and avoided... there isn't a hell of a lot left to do but read a book about Somebody Foolish Going out and LIVING... while YOU wait for the worm ... LIFE passes you by.

The thing is this... take  bit of care here and there. Don't be stupid... unless stupidity wiggles your bean. If straddling your bike geared up like a science fiction warrior is what captures your imagination... do that.

If putting it in the wind bare headed and bikini clad is your thing... do that.

Just own it. Accept the consequences of your Choice... and don't judge others for theirs. (or, think you have the right to judge... or impose YOUR values)

The thing is... live while there's living to be done. Live a Class A life while you're living.

Would you rather live one GREAT 30 year movie? or... sit through the agony of 67 years of the worst, dullest, most agonizingly moronic home movies kodak ever created? Think about it...

Grab Your Handles and Ride
Brian

Running Against the Wind...

Plans... you climb on life and lay it out. You pencil in all the stops and turns, fill the tank, put the key in the ignition... and roll...

... and then reality comes sliding in to T-bone your ass while you were looking the other way.

No one said it would be easy. Easy isn't wanted. No better feeling than to stand up against your fears and fight your way victorious... but the wind can get cold. It can blow too long.

It shouldn't have to be such a devious game. So frequently a wearying struggle.

Sitting in any one place too long is a risk. The ghosts catch up if you stay put too long. You can loose them if you ride far enough, fast enough with enough unplanned turns to confuse them.  But, if you slow down, get lazy, get careless and run straight too far, they figure out your intentions, hone in on your location and soon find you mired in life.

Then you have to fight the fight all over again, beat them off and run for the far country and clear air.

I've found that most people in this life are incomplete. Somehow the world has changed and left the parts that complete a person behind, labeling those parts as useless anachronisms.

They complain about dishonesty, as they cheat the time clock and deceive those around them... they complain about loyalty, as they turn away from a "friend"... because that "friend" had the audacity to NOT follow their direction. They denigrate sacrifice as they curse those who won't give to them. The absence of compassion is broadcasted as they turn their backs on those beaten down . They ridicule those passionately in pursuit of their dreams, because they lack the F'ing spleen to step off in their own pursuit.

"People empty me... I have to get away from them to refill." -unknown

~ Brian

The Un-Solicited Wisdoms of; They Know Better Than Me...

I don't believe I've made it through a whole dang month in the last 45 years that some wise soul hasn't accosted me with the un-asked for burden of their denigrating wisdom.

It's not just a motorcycle thing... it's about just 'bout every piece and part of living.

Where does that sort of arrogance come from?

Now let me say right here, I say a lot here 'bout what I think is good, and what I think is bad... and the ways and trails I've found in my search to find more of the good and less of the bad... FOR ME!

BUT... I figure if a body came here... they were lookin' for my ramblings... my Oh-pin-yun about something or other.

... and I didn't rope 'em off the street and force 'em to listen neither! ... I'm not grabbin' 'em by the arm and squealin' about what weak brained droolers they are... just sayin'.

Now... if I ASK a person what they think of this... or what they think of that... I can't complain 'bout the answers I get... and generally I get enough of a variety of responses that I can sift out the sensible answer I'm lookin' for.

It's all those towering intellects, with their sou-peer-ee-ore brain functions, that stink of pomposity, self appointing themselves to dump their un-soh-lisss-i-ted advisements on me like a tsunami of bovine fertilizer; that I did this wrong or I'm screwin' up that ... that frosts my spleen and kinks my bean in a knot.

Where in the hell do folks find the arrogance to even think that THEY KNOW BETTER what pleases ANYBODY? They know what pleases their own selves. They know what works for them... and they know what they don't like... and that's all they know.

They ain't got the sliver of the shadow of a clue what motivates me... what I need and what I want... unless I tell 'em. It tickles my liver to a rolling boil when they come back at me... after I've filled 'em in with a few of those lil' tidbits about ME... that; "No you're wrong! That's Not true!"...

Seriously? I'm what? Too STUPID to know what makes me smile and what makes my liver flip?

I ride to FEEL the wind, the rain, the cold, the heat, the dust, the scent of the pines... I want to experience life... not get Told what it feels like by those who had the cajones to hang it in the wind and know it first hand.

"No" they say. "You need this and that and the other to protect and isolate you from all those things..."

Thanks... I guess I was too damn stupid to know what I want...

NO... I don't NEED those things you say I do... YOU do.

If windshields and fairings... and grip heaters... and electric underwear... and abs brakes and computer operated instant inflation airbag vests and all such accoutrements twist your throttle, I am as happy for you as a furloughed sailor with a full months pay in his pocket finding a discount whore house.

But please, STOP trying to convince me, by way of self inflation and  ad hominem assaults (didn't know I knew any of those educated words did ya?)  that ya'll know better what I like, what appeals to me... and what is better for me... Than I do.

Guess what? I stop listening juuuuuust 'bout the time you fire off the phrase, or something like it; "You HAVE TO"... or ... "You NEED TO"... or "You'd be BETTER OFF if"... arrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh...

JEEEEESUS Cuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrimmmmmineeeeeeeeee! I got juuuuust a few active neurons still zingin' around in the Ol' Brain pan. I've kept myself on top of the grass through things that would kill a heavy percentage of the ones claimin' brighter bulbs than mine... and bailed their types out far more than the opposite... SO... I do believe I'm qualified to choose what I wear... and what I sit behind when I'm splittin' the wind on a scooter... and how I live the whole of my life for that matter.

If I ask for an opinion about this or that, or for a soliloquy about your experience with such or the other... by all means pipe up... but if ya'll just want to bestow on such feeble minded as me the precious jewels of your infallible wisdom about how I ain't got the sense to pee in a bucket...

... Bite your tongue...and Give that sucker a freakin' Rest!

Grab Your Handles and Ride
Brian

A Motorcycle... uh... Roof... Sort of... Kinda... well... NOT!

 Seriously... a... motorcycle top... er roof... sorta kinda...

Let me explain...

Ok... I'm gonna step on a few toes and be politically incorrect here... but I can't help it...

We were in Quarzsite town this afternoon to get water for the rig. I'd filled my jugs and had pulled up into the driveway to turn back onto the highway...

... and I had to wait...

Wait... for the dumbest thing I think I've seen in... as long as I can remember.

I've seen some ugly rigs here this winter. I've seen some weird combinations of bits and parts assembled to be some sort of an RV...

I've seen Million Dollar Plus Rolling Mansion Buses... I've seen all sorts and types of rigs, and buggys and bikes...

And now today... I've seen a Gold Wing...

This Gold Wing had been modified... into a Trike... So... That's OK... right? I mean... I'm not a fan of trikes... they just don't suit me... just like sport bikes... and red leather don't. Those are all fine, just not my choice or style.

And tolerance of other sorts of bikes and styles is all proper and good... the way it should be... right?

But... isn't there a line... where, you can say... THAT... machine is at the top of the leader-board in the competition for the dumbest things ever done to a fine motorcycle?

...and wouldn't,  A Trike, a Gold Wing... that had been adorned... with Sort of a Rag Top? ... Qualify?

Sort of?

I Vow! This thing came rollin' by... There was some sort of a tube frame sticking up behind the "driver". Like, two "Hoops"... one right behind the driver... another right behind where the passenger seat is...

They stuck up maybe a foot over the "Drivers" head... a little higher in the passenger position... and then...

... and THEN ... and THEN! a piece of plastic sheeting!!!! maybe 18" wide... was strung from the top of the windshield up over those "Hoops" and attached to the back, behind the passenger position...

WHAT in THE hell was THAT? !!!!!

If you wanted a roof... and more wheels... you might as well add doors and call it a Freakin' Cage! :)

I sat there with my mouth workin' like a guppy havin' a heart attack... tryin' to say something... and all I could do was shake my head and choke! :) wish I'd had the presence of mind to catch a picture of the thing...

Yeah... I know... Bad Cowboy! But what can I say? I ain't bein' intolerant. I ain't! Fella can run down the road lookin' dumb all he wants... I won't ever tell him he can't... but... if you are gonna go runnin' around making an extra special effort to look like some sort of... Oh never mind... Just don't expect me to not laugh about it!!!

... and when I do something dumb... You have my permission to feel free to laugh... at ME!

Grab Your Handles and Ride!
Brian

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Putting a Great Motorcycle in the Wind on Bad Tires

There's only one thing that displeases me 'bout my Raider... and actually, it ain't the bike... It's the tires.

Well, not tires really... just one... the 210 on the back end. At roughly $350 bucks for the damn things... They really don't perform very well...

My Old V-Star got maybe 14,000 miles on the tire on that end of the bike. Sometimes more if I was a good boy. But this Raider, I have to work hard to squeeze 9 or 10 thousand miles out of it... I read where a whole lot of riders only get three or four thousand...

You know... I pay about $175 for the tires on my truck and those suckers roll for 50,000 miles... I have just a lil' bit of difficulty believing that there's such a difference in cost to build the damn things... I mean let's face it, there's what, Four times as much material in the truck tire? Come on... something stinks in this deal...

Sometimes when I'm gettin' a Motorcycle tire put on... I start worryin' 'bout STD's and feel like I oughta walk out of the shop... PREGNANT!

So... Yesterday we took a ride, two up 'bout 165 miles or so. Rode from Bouse on up to Wickenburg for a late lunch, a lil' walkin' 'round and then the roll "home".

When we got home we were treated to a nice sunset...

*Arizona Sunset in our Boondock camp... after a day on the Raider*

While we were enjoying the sunset... I happened to spot this lil' bit of joy...

Now... you can see there's a hell of a lot of tread left on that tire. That tire actually only has something just under 4,000 miles on it. I've never locked it up. No burnouts... no real hot doggin'... just Cruising...

For $350 bucks? are you kidding me? WTF Metzler?!!!!!

... and with all that tread left.. there SHOULDN'T be a hole like that through to the steel belt!!!

Now... I know some folks don't like Metzlers. Till now, they've always done me well... but this... arrrrrrggggggghhhhh!

My problem is I've read that Avons, and Dunlops and some of the others are stickier. That generally means softer rubber and even poorer mileage...

 Considering the condition of my piggy bank... this didn't come at a real shiny time.

So... grrrrrrrr..... Today I'm NOT a happy biker.

Grab Your Handles and Ride!
Brian

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Ahhhhh.... What Choice Does a Rider Have?

I'm kinda in the dumps a lil'... at least, thinkin' about my Bike.

Those posts I've read, 'bout the tribulations of other Bikers don't help... and I feel a lil' guilty, bein' as how easy I'm livin' these days... but... what can I say, it don't change the low feelin' you get... When, no way around it... you have to admit it... Somehow, You busted your scooter.

The Raider, which has run like a top, the best Machine I've EVER owned, for near 30,000 miles... is lame.

She started usin' oil coming back from the Dakotas... and continues to consume it at a rate of a quart every 400 miles giver or take. That's a lot of oil. The weird thing is... She don't smoke. The pipes aren't all sooted up... and there's not a leak, anywhere. Not a drop...

But... the oil level is down, after every ride... So the only thing I can conclude is... she's got a busted ring or two... and she's burning it, smoke or not.

So, that leaves me with that gnawing worry, each mile; where's that oil goin'? How? Why? What's the repair gonna cost me? Where's THAT gonna come from?

and... most of all... What other Option do I have... Really?

I mean, not fixing it would be akin to a man refusing antibiotics for an infection in his leg... 'cause the cost would cut into his beer money too deep.

That Raider... That Motorcycle... IS ... My Legs.

Not, Fixing her, Not getting her back to 100% isn't an Option...

Some folks would say; "It's only a machine. It's only a thing. Get over it." Those of you, that are Riders... and not just someone who sits on a motorcycle to get from one place to another, know what I'm talking about... Those others, never will...

That bike is a part of me now, like my Heart... It's grown into a piece of my soul. Bummer though repairs might be... What other option does a Rider have?

Grab Your Handles and Ride!
Brian

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Motorcycle Maintenance and Motorcycle Philosophy...

... rendered more difficult by the early onset of Senility.

I ain't no mechanic... never wanted to be.. and in pure truthful honesty... still don't want to be... Busting greasy knuckles on frozen bolts in places the engineers did their best to make 'em inaccessible, while rolling around on the cold dirty concrete of a garage floor, just don't twist my throttle.

I'm more of a clean shirts, cold beer and hot women sort of rider. :)

But... I'm the first to admit it... Riding a high performance machine, into places where help is a long ways away, like the Alaskan Highway, without being awful familiar with the machine that's carryin' you... is probably Motorcycle Touring on the road to foolishness.

and... uh... as lazy as I've gotten in my old age, I've been living for a bit in that foolish world of payin' somebody else to do my Simple Maintenance. Bad, Bad, Biker Cowboy!

So... yesterday I decided to put my lazy ways aside and get back to doin' my own maintenance on the Raider, rather than paying someone else to do my dirty work.

Now that's an education. How can something with two wheels, be so much more Complicated then a big diesel... to change the freaking oil?!! :)

I collected the oil, filter and a couple of fresh sealer washers from Yamaha, and started to work, knowing that there's not one, but TWO, drain plugs on the 113 cid. mill that resides in a Raiders frame.

First, I used my son-in-laws motorcycle/atv jack and lifted the bike up. OK... that's good, except now, there's no place to put a drain pan, so drop the bike back down off the lift, and I'll just do the work with it sitting on the ground...

Uh... NOPE... the lift won't come down... jack it back up, hit the release again, it only comes down part way... with a mechanical thunk! replay a half dozen times... What the hell?

It wouldn't come down...

Well Brian...It's a damn jack! It's not the freakin' space shuttle... Took me ten minutes to find the "Mechanical" safety load lock gizmo, so I could get the Raider back off the lift...

I'm tellin' you... Senility is an awful thing!

So then, it's back under the bike with it sitting on the ground. I can juuuuuuust get a drain pan shoved under that low sittin' bike... after I loosened the drain bolts... all two of 'em, If I stand it up a lil' as I push the pan with my foot. And then juuuuust get my fingers on those bolts to remove 'em, and the oil drains out... right?

Nope,Wrong again!

Maybe a quart runs out... leaving 4+ still in the scooter. This machine takes more oil than my 450 HP Hot Rod 390 Ford V8 Took! almost 5 1/4 quarts!

So, I think; "Ah Ha! The filter ya dummy!" and pull that... another pint or so... and, the oil tank remains full...

Truth is, this is the first dry sump bike I've owned... if it was a horse? or a Cow?... or even a damn lawn mower... I've got it handled... but... A Motorcycle Mechanic, this buster Ain't! :) Puh-Thetic

I search for a while, crippled up Ol' buster crawlin' around the garage on his hands and knees, trying to keep his $%@#  Damn glasses on his nose so he can see ANYTHING... and not really being able to see under that low ridin' scooter. Felt around with my fingers and just didn't find anything that gave me that "Ha! There it is!" warm glow...

Finally surrendered my ego and called a dealer, who pointed me to the THIRD, drain plug... the one that drains the dry sump oil tank, and badda boom, it's drained.

Only now, I've only got Two, replacement sealing washers. The parts guy at the dealer was new, and didn't know the scoot had Three drains either, when I bought my supplies. :) Knowing that miserable Murphy is just waitin' for me to leave him an opening to cause trouble... I make a second run to the dealer for a third washer and back to the bike to put her back on the road...

... except that the back bolt of the two crank case drains I knew about, won't tighten down... can't get a wrench to fit in there to tighten it up... took a while to finally find a box end in my box that was thin enough to fit into the recess around that bolt head... but being stubborn as well as senile, I did finally get her done...

Yup... a mechanic, Motorcycle or otherwise... I ain't. But, at least I've put my "I hate gettin' greasy" ego aside and am givin' the bike the proper attention she deserves! :) as well as finding out that this Ol' dog can still learn a thing or two... like... just a lil' bit of humility! :)

This morning... trying to figure out how to get to the air box, to service the filter... and knowing it's under the fuel tank... I found a PDF of the service manual on the Raider forum. See! I'm learning! :)

What a job That is... for a guy who don't wanna Mechanic... to change the air filter! Sheesh... seems like I'll have most of the Motorcycle lyin' on the floor, before I can get to the filter! You have to remove the whole dang fuel tank... and 19 gazillion disconnects... to dig on in there...

I'm tellin' you... engineers have got to be sadistic suckers...

I'm gettin' greasy.. whether I like it or not... and I still have to write up the last couple days of our ride to Deadwood! ... and all while I'm still on the road, away from the rig, attending a wedding...

Sheesh! I'm ready to just climb back on the bike and split the wind!

Grab Your Handles and Ride!
Brian

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I've Seen Blog Posts Asking Before... Can You Live on Just a Motorcycle?

They always wonder... how would you haul groceries... What about "Big" things... how would you haul this and that?

Have you ever wondered; "What would it be like... if ALL I had was my Motorcycle... and Only the things I needed to live. Clothing, Shelter, Cooking gear..."

It's an idea that's always appealed to me. Last year, riding the Alcan... with the limited gear I carried... I've never been more content...

Don't mistake me now... I may have cowboyed for a goodly while... lived rough and such... but that don't mean, in any sort of a way, that I LIKE being uncomfortable... A masochist I ain't! Truth is... the only thing that keeps a cowboys bedroll from being 6' in diameter... is the ability of a mule to carry it! :)

... Same thing on a motorcycle...

Bottom line is.. could you live and be, Comfortable, on Just a Motorcycle? ... and ... the answer is... a tee total, double chromed, unhesitating... YES! :)

You'd have to make sacrifices... Getting ready to go somewhere, when the weather is bad, takes more time then just sprinting out to your "Cage" through the rain... to safety inside it... You have to get geared up.

... and you have to think about some things a bit. How are you going to haul some needful things?... Like yesterday... in our fifth wheel camp in Southern Utah.

The truck is broke... been hauled a hundred miles away... for what is very likely gonna be a repair that will cost what I could buy a solid, clean V  Star for!!!!!!

... and ... I needed propane for the "House"... whud-a-ya gonna Do?

Why... strap that 40# Propane Bottle on... and Make a Raider Ride for fuel to Escalante... Riding a Yamaha Raider Propane Hauler!

*Raider Loaded and Ready*

... and you know what? Not one, single, issue... other than the looks I got from a few folks... wonderin' about the guy hauling his BBQ around on a Cruiser V Twin! :)

Truth be known... the bike didn't know it was there... More stable then a "rider" back there. :)

*Riding to town for Propane*

So... One more time... my Bike... came through... and put a smile on my face... and said... "What the hell you need that 4 doored cage for?"

Which leaves me wonderin'... will JB weld hold the fifth wheel hitch on my helmet? :)

Grab Your Handles and Ride!
Brian

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What's a Motorcycle Blogger to do... When the Words Fail Him?

For the past couple of weeks, I've stumbled around, chasing my tail, trying to find some inspiration to form the frame on which I could hang a fresh post. It's been a bit of a frustration... I'm not a guy who is generally at a loss for words. So it's an affliction I'm not familiar, or comfortable, dealing with.

Being the writer of two websites, three blogs and recently, one genuine western fiction novel :o), I feel a responsibility to produce something of value to compensate the readers who have yielded time from their lives... to read the scribblings of my meager publishing effort.

I started to notice that the affliction seemed to be contagious. Most of the Motorcycle blogs I read regularly, haven't been posted to for weeks... some of them, months...

I wondered... why?

If they were all from bikers up north, that could be an answer... Not much riding goin' on of Motorcycles up in the North Country... Not in December and January...

Back in Colorado... I rode all winter... one of the few. When it was 15 degrees, even 10! if the road was clear... I was on the bike... more than once, I was already out on the road when it started snowing... and road on home, encrusted in that white junk...

I commonly say; "Take away my motorcycle and you might just as well shoot me in the head... I'm not gonna be of any use."

But... most of the blogs I'm talking about are written by riders in Southern California, Arizona... and other places... where I can't truly believe, that weather... is any sort of an excuse... Winter stored bikes can't be the reason...

So what gives? Is there some great emotional depression goin' on that I'm unaware of?

Parked for much of the winter down on the Arizona Desert, I've been riding... I see lots of other bikes on the road...so they're moving...

I'm sure you've heard some motorcycle riders say something to the affect of; "My bike doesn't have much shiny chrome... I spend my time riding... Not... Polishing." :o)

Maybe, the failure to produce blog postings is because they're riding... and not writing?

I can only hope.

Grab Your Handles and Ride!
Brian

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What's the Real Deal with Cagers?

You  hear it all the time... "I didn't see him."... and you know what? I've decided that MOST of that is lying Bull Shit.

In the last six months, too many times... I've made freakin' EYE CONTACT with the dumb sob's as they came at me... crowdin' into MY lane... pushin' me onto the shoulder...

Comin' at me Head on... pushin' me onto the shoulder... Didn't SEE ME? Who in the hell do they think they're kidding? I could nearly see the color of their lyin' freakin' eyes! as they, obviously, deliberately, tried to bully me out of their precious damn way! AAAAAARRRRRRRGHHHHH!

What really sets my teeth on edge is that look they give... a kind of a... "You're in my way... you have no right to be in my way... MOVE!... or I'll run you down!"...

Sound kind of pissy... don't I?

The thing is... they get away with it... they run Bikers down every damn day... and then shrugging their shoulders to the cop... "I never saw the motorcycle."... they walk... when... in truth... the bastards committed Manslaughter.

How... on a bright, sunny day in Wyoming... on a straight road... with no wind, no dust, no rain... do you pull out from behind a semi... hesitate... then continue on out... coming head on at me, for several hundred feet... with my headlight on Bright... and just keep coming? Shoving me off onto the shoulder... with your middle freaking finger extended...

You've NO RIGHT to operate ANY motor vehicle on ANY Highway... ANYWHERE... EVER....
You damn near... don't have the right to... aw hell... let's not go there...

The other day... a bozo comes across the median between the on ramp we were coming down... and the traffic lane he was in... hauling his horse trailer...

He saw us... You could SEE HIM SEE US... did he move back into his lane that he never should have left? Hell no... the bastard just kept on coming... like... "I'm bigger...and your life don't mean nuthin'... and I'll just tell the Cop "I never saw the motorcycle."

That should be an instant admission of Manslaughter.... AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

Whew! It don't change nuthin'... likely never will... But I feel better after venting a mite. :o)

Grab Your Handles and Ride!
Brian

Return to the Home page of Motorcycle Touring on Freedom Road
Visit our sister site goin' RV Boondocking

Share your stories and opinions;
*Tell us Which you think is the... The Best Touring Motorcycle
*Share...  Your Personal Motorcycle Philosophy with us!
*Tell us about your...  Great Motorcycle Roads