Thursday, May 23, 2013


My sister and her dog, my truck and my favorite motorcycle.
A few weeks ago I decided I was tired of waiting to find a trailer ride to get my ol truck out to Denver after relocating from the western slope some 300 miles and a few major passes away. I had my Dear Cookie drop me off. She left me with my tools, some duct tape, bailing wire, and a fire extinguisher and my trusty Honda for parts store runs. I felt like I was about to do something really stupid as the truck had not been a road worthy vehicle for some 20 years and before that it was only used to collect firewood once a year. My Mom bought the truck for my Dad before I was born. They thought it was a bit ugly being yellow so they used paint brushes to make it black. Now it is proper ugly. I spent day number one doing the basic tune and service stuff. one leaky valve stem and a leaky brake cylinder did not seem enough to keep me from making the first 70 mile stint to my sister's house. I spent one more full day there making futile preparations. The unsought of naysayers was abundant. That shit only motivates me. Day 3 saw me on the road at six am. and like Tom Waits, I was feeling so holy. 50-55mph on the interstate and the first 200 miles rolled by like the playing of a favorite record. Then came the continental divide.  Would the old and porcupine chewed cooling system hold? Summit of the first pass, 11,000 ft above see level I pull over and pop the hood for visual inspection. Some popping noise. Some ass hole needs to learn to proper torque spark plugs so the don't get loose.  I never claimed to be a master mechanic, only a learning jet eye in training. Second big pass was a breeze and down, down, down we cruised all the way home. Happily ever after. The end.

Summit of Vail pass

Almost to the top Eisenhower

At the top. Tunnel of love.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013


 Went to a supermoto race last sunday, On the way I lost ALL brakes in my truck. Luckily I didnt kill anyone and a tap off of the master cylinder returned some sponge like hydrolics to the system. The Idea was to shake down the Pikes Peak bike a bit in the asphalt only class. I am cheap like the discount rack at goodwill so I had an old shinko on the back that made the bike feel a bit like stepping in fresh goose shit while doing a jumping jack. I figured I would bring my dirt bike out so I could have a go at the supermoto complete course. I put on some old dirt track tires (after unloading it with knobbies and getting some stink eye from the sumo nerds). These DT tires are old.  Like really old. Like Keith Richards old. Enduro set up complete with front fender score card holder did good until I lost brakes yet again for the day and turned another stock sized brake rotor into a salad bowl shaped piece of scrap iron. I think I finished last, almost last and right in front of almost last. A good time was had.

Friday, May 17, 2013

Shit in the shop, part:435

Variety is the spice of life.
My poop burns my bung hole.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Battle of the fashions

Crashing in leathers is fun. ...Ok, not really. But. it aint bad. Sometimes. Lets just say that I have blown the back side out of enough plastic moto pants to know to stop eating beans after the third serving and when to suit up in leathers. Only rugby players and strippers can get away with under dressing. Everyone else plays foot ball in foot ball gear, except soccer football. and then drag queens...  I digress.  My point is: Fuck front mud guards, Motocross helmets are for motocross and so is the gear. Screaming fire on this here soap box. Arrrgh! Lets keep flattrack looking like flattrack. Sorry if I offended you MadDog, I am purdy sure you dont cross dress. Peace!

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Battling the meat wagon

Point #1: I always am battling the meat wagon

Point #2: That is a big pile of bovine dung behind me. When the wind blows right, it smells just like home.

Point #3: If that side cover gets much closer to the ground the meat wagon may get me.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013