here - again

Another time around the sun. That is New Years. A holiday we can all understand. This my 35th time around has been a wild ride. Every year seems wild in reflection I suppose though. But through my own self absorbed indulgence allow me to expound; The move out the city, my wife and me having to living apart while she schools, a shop of my own, I am not registered for Pikes Peak or Baja or Bonneville or anything for that matter. What shall 2019 bring? - That is what I suppose is the beef of my post. Or is it reflection of the past year? Just another New Year's Eve post I reckon. Another year farther from that perfect childhood imagination land of bmx Evel Knevievel perfection. Another closer to feeding worms. Carpe de um. The life worth living always awaits us. A beautiful dancer just beyond our grasp it often seems but... DIRTBIKES- always just an air filter service and a van ride away. I am not much to babble on current events or the new times that they be but lets just say that we all need to remember to let go of so called life goals and just fucking live. Every breath should be a perfect 14.7:1 air to fuel emulsified sonic pulse induced particle charge swirled and tumbled into our perfect piston pocket domed head of squish band igniting white hot efficient combustion ignition mojo magic. 

We are here for a good time. Not a long time.

Come on 2019.

As the sands of time keep perpetuating, this DIRTBIKE bum keeps on....

Chris Harris - man of steel?

“Deep and simple is far more essential than shallow and complex.” - Mr. Rogers

I acquired my latest project the day after I finished my last project bike, the Excess 650 (780cc motocrosser) winning it's first race/shake down ride. I traded two other old dirtbikes, my TT500 and an XR500 for this XR600. I tore down the engine and freshened up the top end with new rings and oversized valves. The frame was totally fucking broken around the left footpeg. I think the sidestand mount must have hit a rock and peeled the frame proper fuct. I put the plastics from Beasty, the old LA/Barstow Vegas bike on and replaced the 19" front dirt track wheel from it's last ride up Pikes Peak in '96 with another robbed skab off of Beasty, origanolly canobolised from an '84 XR500 now on 17" wheels known as the Womble, or Project Retard. -How far back did I loose you? Or lost my thread all together... Ah yes, this fine old archaic air cooled contraption of simple flawless operating beauty. I was hoping to rip it across Death Valley for Thanksgiving weekend and making Beasty proud of her former fenders but Baja needed some rest. She is doing much better now but the recovery was/is slow. She is just an old dog now. Still bat shit crazy as fuck though! Anyhoo, riding this bike in the desert on a cold December Saturday all by one's self is as gratifying as any encounter with true and pure living can be. Simple tasked machine from my simple rider's rotating wrist. Rewarding, like old shoes. Dependable as time. Now, lets service them suspenders...