Friday, April 27, 2018
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
Thursday, April 19, 2018
project half liter skeeter eater
Believe it or not, I have put more into this bike than any other build I have done.
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| Customer brought a 2007 KX450F into my shop with stuck kick start. He let friends borrow it. The piston cam off with the head and the rod was in the transmission. I was about to take what you see in this picture to the scrapper when I had a light bulb go off in my head. Why not put a KX500 engine in this thing... |
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| The most series mod was moving the font frame 'Y' up several inches to allow the two stroke header pipe to fit. I cut and re welded a CR500 pipe in several places to fit. And yes, I know I will crush this pipe.... |
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| I spent some coin on some wheels. I even went far more bling than I have ever dared with green nipples. |
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| The pipe and water pipe fittings were tough. |
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| Just waiting on some custom radiators and some cool guy stickers that Scott next door is doing up. I am pretty stocked. |
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
Saturday, April 14, 2018
Feeling the potential
Something I have not written about much is riding the Bott. It was a very special bike to ride with a big potential at Pikes Peak. Perhaps I have not written about it because I have found dismay in the potential of both the bike and myself getting along. I am able to find fault in me not riding the bike closer to it's intended limit. I also have respect for the builder of the bike. The builder's mechanics however, I have not. I walked away form the ordeal with a respectable class win and 4th overall bike but I also walked away from countless mechanical failures. Maybe I am content to find it best to just leave it at that, an intact ass body and soul and all. Onward.
However, there was one brief early practice morning run made on the bike that was 2nd fastest of the day behind Chis Fillmore. The single run beckoned my holy feelings of touching potential. Speaking to the gods of speed. Maybe, it was just another near death experience. But on the top section of the mountain on the Thursday practice, the same day and section that we lost our dear beloved and much missed Hot Carl, I flogged the Bott. Of course that was one of the only runs that nobody turned on the GoPro. Other wise a pant shitting video of pushing the limits of man and machine would follow. The bike had been running like complete shit, popping, miss-firing and stuttering in the complete power band up until then. On more than a few occasions I have set people's Pikes Peak problems straight with the simple elixir of pump gas. Good old 91 octane straight out of the 7-11 all night fuel station. The high altitude will make even the most high compression engine find high octane race fuel more worthless than a limp dick at the gang bang party. (Sorry.)
The proud spanish mechanic finally let me try some fuel from the generator jug that usually feeds my lawn mower. The bike came alive. I think I only got 3 runs that morning and that was the run I remember. The bike launched, lifting the front wheel as I grabbed the first couple of gears I held it open as I approached the first blind sweeping corner with only sky beyond and below the outer edge. The motor kept pulling 5th as I swooped into The Bottomless Pit. I found a new respect in the bike if only briefly as I was able to feel smooth power delivery through the flawed throttle. The new crisp response was enough to break the back end loose more than a few times, usually exiting a corner with only doom as a fail safe. The speeds were unlike anything I had felt on the Ronin or my little 450. I came within inches of the edge of the tarmac. I remember cresting the summit at the finish line and then taking a big breath... And another.... and then swearing at the top of my lungs. When I came to a stop I was shaking too much to even hold the bike up. My muscles were quivering, my lungs gasping and my mind going completely frazled. That was the only time I ever came close to feeling the potential of such a bike.
There is no way I could put myself through that again. I am stoked to be on my trusty old 450cc machine this year. I imagine the Bott team will have a sorted effort this year and I actually hope to see them king of the hill. For me, I hope see some Lone Duck Campgound fun like we had back in 2008.
After all potential is only what we make it. Peace!
However, there was one brief early practice morning run made on the bike that was 2nd fastest of the day behind Chis Fillmore. The single run beckoned my holy feelings of touching potential. Speaking to the gods of speed. Maybe, it was just another near death experience. But on the top section of the mountain on the Thursday practice, the same day and section that we lost our dear beloved and much missed Hot Carl, I flogged the Bott. Of course that was one of the only runs that nobody turned on the GoPro. Other wise a pant shitting video of pushing the limits of man and machine would follow. The bike had been running like complete shit, popping, miss-firing and stuttering in the complete power band up until then. On more than a few occasions I have set people's Pikes Peak problems straight with the simple elixir of pump gas. Good old 91 octane straight out of the 7-11 all night fuel station. The high altitude will make even the most high compression engine find high octane race fuel more worthless than a limp dick at the gang bang party. (Sorry.)
The proud spanish mechanic finally let me try some fuel from the generator jug that usually feeds my lawn mower. The bike came alive. I think I only got 3 runs that morning and that was the run I remember. The bike launched, lifting the front wheel as I grabbed the first couple of gears I held it open as I approached the first blind sweeping corner with only sky beyond and below the outer edge. The motor kept pulling 5th as I swooped into The Bottomless Pit. I found a new respect in the bike if only briefly as I was able to feel smooth power delivery through the flawed throttle. The new crisp response was enough to break the back end loose more than a few times, usually exiting a corner with only doom as a fail safe. The speeds were unlike anything I had felt on the Ronin or my little 450. I came within inches of the edge of the tarmac. I remember cresting the summit at the finish line and then taking a big breath... And another.... and then swearing at the top of my lungs. When I came to a stop I was shaking too much to even hold the bike up. My muscles were quivering, my lungs gasping and my mind going completely frazled. That was the only time I ever came close to feeling the potential of such a bike.
There is no way I could put myself through that again. I am stoked to be on my trusty old 450cc machine this year. I imagine the Bott team will have a sorted effort this year and I actually hope to see them king of the hill. For me, I hope see some Lone Duck Campgound fun like we had back in 2008.
After all potential is only what we make it. Peace!
Friday, April 6, 2018
Life, Death, and the In-between.
How did I get here. Where have I been. Where am I going?
Onward and upward. Progressing Never stagnant.
Growing. Learning. Living.
Tomorrow I will go to a memorial service for a person who was very much responsible for my way of life. I Met Chris Johns when I was maybe 3 years old. My first memories of the then US Ski team mega athlete were of what he gave me. First generation black and white Oakley goggles and some day glow ski racing stickers. The gifts since have been many. From my treasured copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance to teaching me how to stick my foot into the front wheel of my BMX resulting in a "Polish wheelie". He built many bicycles for me, some I still own. He would trials ride his bicycle over a car, Wheelie for miles and miles with a huge charismatic smile infecting everyone around him with feel good go get it done attitude. He was the first to teach me how to go fast on a DIRTBIKE and ride a proper trail ride. A master mentor of shredding the gnar. My first job off of the family ranch was assembling new bicycles at his shop (WHEEELS) and with this came my attention to detail and proper set up when working on anything mechanical. After I graduated motorcycle mechanics school I got a job back at my local Honda dealership. Years passed and the dealership was bought out by a Texas multi car dealership owner who instilled my first distaste for corporate giant mega shops. Though I was the top producing tech I was unfairly laid off due to my out spoken opinions. That very day Chris Johns made room in his crowded bicycle shop for my tools and told me I could just fix motorcycles for people there; Easy as that! I could not imagine being able to make a living for myself but he kept telling me I could make it happen and by the end of that summer I realized he was right. He taught me the value in customer relations and the simple quality of a small shop with simple ways. I ended up going to work for a few more dealerships in order to focus on racing and 8 years later I made the jump to open up Newbold's Motorbike Shop. Despite everybody telling me I couldn't with what little I had, I knew I could. Thanks to Chris.
A few days before he succumbed to a sudden epileptic seizure at home alone, Johnsie made a surprise visit to my shop. The 51 year old mega athlete still in top physical form. I called him "Fast Guy" and he said he was grey and old and that he passed that torch to me a long time ago. He said that he had just enjoyed his first winter vacation in many years and his now super successful bicycle shop was finally on the winning end of all he had invested for so many years. He was just now finally able to not work 7 days a week and he could start to ride his XR650R on some long adventure rides. Time to enjoy life. That was our last conversation.
Since his passing this last month I have done a lot of deep searching. I realize that I am one of the most fortunate assholes on this planet. I realize that I have near full control over piloting this ship. So many red blooded Americans in my shoes would capitalize on my overly busy shop. I could easily hire several mechanics and keep them busy with the amount of work I am turning away every day. I could stock the store front with expensive leather and overpriced outfits, coffee, trinkets, do-hickies, thing-mobobbers and such. I could probably make a bunch of money and then maybe someday pay off and live fat. I can't stay stagnant so I feel I must. The billboards at the bank tell me so. The city of Denver is exploding with economy. The traffic is jammed up like yesterday's cheddar cheese colon log. Huge billboards as far as the eye can see telling me to relish the life of such slavery. Buy, spend, inflate, consume, overpopulate, eat more, sleep less, work harder, after all being a hard worker is something to aspire to right! Right? Is it really? Since when? Says who? Really....
Onward and upward. Progressing Never stagnant.
Growing. Learning. Living.
Tomorrow I will go to a memorial service for a person who was very much responsible for my way of life. I Met Chris Johns when I was maybe 3 years old. My first memories of the then US Ski team mega athlete were of what he gave me. First generation black and white Oakley goggles and some day glow ski racing stickers. The gifts since have been many. From my treasured copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance to teaching me how to stick my foot into the front wheel of my BMX resulting in a "Polish wheelie". He built many bicycles for me, some I still own. He would trials ride his bicycle over a car, Wheelie for miles and miles with a huge charismatic smile infecting everyone around him with feel good go get it done attitude. He was the first to teach me how to go fast on a DIRTBIKE and ride a proper trail ride. A master mentor of shredding the gnar. My first job off of the family ranch was assembling new bicycles at his shop (WHEEELS) and with this came my attention to detail and proper set up when working on anything mechanical. After I graduated motorcycle mechanics school I got a job back at my local Honda dealership. Years passed and the dealership was bought out by a Texas multi car dealership owner who instilled my first distaste for corporate giant mega shops. Though I was the top producing tech I was unfairly laid off due to my out spoken opinions. That very day Chris Johns made room in his crowded bicycle shop for my tools and told me I could just fix motorcycles for people there; Easy as that! I could not imagine being able to make a living for myself but he kept telling me I could make it happen and by the end of that summer I realized he was right. He taught me the value in customer relations and the simple quality of a small shop with simple ways. I ended up going to work for a few more dealerships in order to focus on racing and 8 years later I made the jump to open up Newbold's Motorbike Shop. Despite everybody telling me I couldn't with what little I had, I knew I could. Thanks to Chris.
A few days before he succumbed to a sudden epileptic seizure at home alone, Johnsie made a surprise visit to my shop. The 51 year old mega athlete still in top physical form. I called him "Fast Guy" and he said he was grey and old and that he passed that torch to me a long time ago. He said that he had just enjoyed his first winter vacation in many years and his now super successful bicycle shop was finally on the winning end of all he had invested for so many years. He was just now finally able to not work 7 days a week and he could start to ride his XR650R on some long adventure rides. Time to enjoy life. That was our last conversation.
Since his passing this last month I have done a lot of deep searching. I realize that I am one of the most fortunate assholes on this planet. I realize that I have near full control over piloting this ship. So many red blooded Americans in my shoes would capitalize on my overly busy shop. I could easily hire several mechanics and keep them busy with the amount of work I am turning away every day. I could stock the store front with expensive leather and overpriced outfits, coffee, trinkets, do-hickies, thing-mobobbers and such. I could probably make a bunch of money and then maybe someday pay off and live fat. I can't stay stagnant so I feel I must. The billboards at the bank tell me so. The city of Denver is exploding with economy. The traffic is jammed up like yesterday's cheddar cheese colon log. Huge billboards as far as the eye can see telling me to relish the life of such slavery. Buy, spend, inflate, consume, overpopulate, eat more, sleep less, work harder, after all being a hard worker is something to aspire to right! Right? Is it really? Since when? Says who? Really....
There is the past to learn form.
The futur is uncertain, prepare if possible, or better yet just live it as it becomes the Now.
The Now is the only thing that really matters or even truly exists.
Right Now.
Tuesday, April 3, 2018
Hey kids, remember supermoto?!
Right after the turn of the century it was supposed to be the next big thing. It was actually pretty big here in the states for a few years before the AMA worked it's failing film flam ways of running a race series with it. Combining road racing, dirt sliding, and moto-battling; I like it a lot. I don't get to do it as much as I would like to but two years ago I did an AMA national and battled with the best in our land. (I came in near last place in the main but hey, I just having fun on my old pikes peak bike eh!) Later in 2016 I won the overall in the pro main at our local series finale race.
Any hoo, I have rebuilt my old 2005 CRFX framed 08 CRF450R engine Pikes Peak bike for a 450cc Come Back Attack on the hill. Yes, they accepted my entry this year! it must have been like swallowing a mouth of rotten earth worms for them to let me race my 10th race on the mountain in 11 years. This really may be my last race on the hill... I mean it, seriously! Well, I keep wandering off topic like a lost little puppy in the big scary city of shitty titty. Supermoto, ah yes, I went to a supremo race to test the new pikes engine build and new custom built Lectron carburetor. And it ripped. Lots of fun. I raced it to 2nd place in the asphalt class. Then, after lunch they ran the dirt supremo classes. The dust was as thick and intense as being buried in an avalanche. Having just re-welded my aluminum framed motor mounts I was not thrilled at how harshly I was bottoming out my 5" lowered suspension on both the jump landings and take-offs. As I was complaining about the thrashing my fresh pikes peak build was receiving a friendly near total stranger to me who helped build the original Ronin motorcycle project offered me his recently purchased proper supremo bike. It was a true former AMA pro bike from the glory days of American sumo. A near pristine 2004 CRF450 raced to 4th in the X games and then sat out many a day just sitting in a shed. I am always apprehensive to borrow other's rides and the law of borrowing bikes clearly states that something bad will happpen to bike when it is lent out. So the first thing I did was charge into the first corner and dump it. Luckily I absorbed most of the bike's fall with my head. It is good for something after all! I remounted and somehow won the moto. The fast guys were gentleman and gave them selves a handicap start. They would not do this in the 2 moto and I cam in 3rd. Well enough for some pay-out and a smile. I offered to bring the borrowed bike back to my shop for a little TLC and the pikes peak bike is ready to rip another trip up the hill. In the mean time I plan on testing another set of suspension on it in the next and final supremoto before June 25th, the day of the race to the clouds!
The crash pic was found on facebook and sent to me, Wallace took the others.
Any hoo, I have rebuilt my old 2005 CRFX framed 08 CRF450R engine Pikes Peak bike for a 450cc Come Back Attack on the hill. Yes, they accepted my entry this year! it must have been like swallowing a mouth of rotten earth worms for them to let me race my 10th race on the mountain in 11 years. This really may be my last race on the hill... I mean it, seriously! Well, I keep wandering off topic like a lost little puppy in the big scary city of shitty titty. Supermoto, ah yes, I went to a supremo race to test the new pikes engine build and new custom built Lectron carburetor. And it ripped. Lots of fun. I raced it to 2nd place in the asphalt class. Then, after lunch they ran the dirt supremo classes. The dust was as thick and intense as being buried in an avalanche. Having just re-welded my aluminum framed motor mounts I was not thrilled at how harshly I was bottoming out my 5" lowered suspension on both the jump landings and take-offs. As I was complaining about the thrashing my fresh pikes peak build was receiving a friendly near total stranger to me who helped build the original Ronin motorcycle project offered me his recently purchased proper supremo bike. It was a true former AMA pro bike from the glory days of American sumo. A near pristine 2004 CRF450 raced to 4th in the X games and then sat out many a day just sitting in a shed. I am always apprehensive to borrow other's rides and the law of borrowing bikes clearly states that something bad will happpen to bike when it is lent out. So the first thing I did was charge into the first corner and dump it. Luckily I absorbed most of the bike's fall with my head. It is good for something after all! I remounted and somehow won the moto. The fast guys were gentleman and gave them selves a handicap start. They would not do this in the 2 moto and I cam in 3rd. Well enough for some pay-out and a smile. I offered to bring the borrowed bike back to my shop for a little TLC and the pikes peak bike is ready to rip another trip up the hill. In the mean time I plan on testing another set of suspension on it in the next and final supremoto before June 25th, the day of the race to the clouds!
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| Damn, I look good! |
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| I may have won the race but that helmet and suit will never be anywhere near new again. |
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| I need to get a roost boost on |
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| Jumping slick tires on dirt is a thrill. I dig it. |
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| She aint no show pony. She aint no jacked up 4x4 mall crawler. She is my do-all and she makes me "Pink to Purple" every time! |
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