ooooops, there goes that $50.

It just followed me home! Can we keep it?

Now What? I am thinking hill climb race car... Anybody have any resources for me on parts< what kind of parts, or what kind of pain I am in for?

Holy Honky Honda Hombre

Currently in the shop I have three personal projects going. Truth be told I have a few others but these are the top three and of course they are all Honda four stroke XR thumpers, if you would allow me to call a mini bike a thumper.

A few weeks ago another XR650R came into my shop. Customer said it had been run without oil so I tore down the top end to inspect and found no trauma. I went to check the clutch basket bearing as I have seen this fail on the trusty tank of an engine once before, it was fine. I pulled out the sump screen and found a pea size piece of shrapnel... a magnet went fishing into the trans and snagged a big ol chewed up chunk of carnage-asada… Sweet I finially get to split the cases on one of these indestructible beasts. Fist gear on the counter shaft was fuct beyond believe. And to think the bike made no noise and operated completely normal! The customer didn't want to fix but I did. I have talked long about turning one of these bikes into a DTX tracker rotax killer. With correct bearings and some spacer rigging I mounted up my old beloved SV's original front end with the front wheel from...

The XR600 former Pikes Peak racer I picked up last fall. Since I last talked about this neat old 1988 historic air cooled Honda I have installed an ebay XR650L shock that I worked over the shim stack. After the sprocket bolts backed out of the CR500 hub I opted to test my TIG welding skill and but humpty dumpty back together again. I un-laced the old 19x3" Sun rim and will lace it up to the 650R tracker above. For only 20$ including fright Buchanan shorted their 30 year old spokes and re-threaded them for me to go back to an 18" hoop that I had retired from Molly my 450X. New bearings, 120 Maxxis Desert IT and a seat cover and now I am ready to upgrade the front end to the 650R one that I just removed from the tracker bike above.

Last but not least is this 1982 XL100 that my Mom bought herself at a garage sale so she could go riding with me when I was ripping up my CR80. We had some fun times together camping in the desert a few miles from where my shop is now located. I eventually ran the bike into the ground after I had done the same to my CR80. It sat in the back of a hay shed until last summer when I dug it out from several feet of cow pies knowing I must revive it and let my Mom ride it once again. -If I don't run it into the ground first using it for Motoball. I sorced some old RM shocks and a front end that I have yet to fit steering stem bearings to. I also have a big bore top end and hopped up camshaft on backorder....

 Since this picture was taken I downsized the front wheel back to a 19" and found a better fitting seat. The tank is not original but I'm pretty sure what's left of the rear sprocket is!

Are my dirty Dickies days done

When I was a teenager I raised a lot of hell. Or at least I sure was bent on trying to. So many are the times that I was cuffed and stuffed into the back of a cop car I can't re-count the count. Taught me a thing or two learning things the sure and hard way is always a good way to learn something. What that something is I am still figuring. When I had disembarked from my punk rock band of brothers I grew up with and dropped out of college after my first semester, I knew I was searching for something. Just as well could have been running from something but that has never been my way. I found a clue in the back ad pages of an Easyrider magazine while I was driving combination tractor trailer beer trucks across the open roads of the western Rocky Mountains; MMI, or Motorcycle Mechanics Institute, or as I later learned: Micky Mouse Institute. It ended up becoming the best way I have yet learned to make $18K disappear but anyhoo here I am so fair enough. I remember trying to pick up girls in that hell hole north Phoenix tech-scholastic stint of my life by telling them I was a washed up old Punk-rocker. -True it was but old was something I had no clue or grasp of until maybe perhaps lately as my hair farming chin is sprouting grey hairs. Not just a few but a full on patch. Stereotypical 36 year old freakout moment im not having. but it does make me ponder how washed up of an old Punk-rocker I am now. Silly thing it is to just write about but something on my mind lately and after sitting down to think about it while I try to spell shit on this keyboard I reckon that there is no true time we ever grow up or grow old. No moment we become washed up. Only one moment at a time.  But there is certainly a time when we can go race our motorbikes and live a life that isn't anything short of a true epic good fucking time. 

2019 racing has begun

Sir Mick had the idea to go arenacross racing while the national series came to Denver. Seemed like a great idea except for the potential ambulance ride. But hey, he was the one coming straight off of a shoulder surgery and a few months out of the saddle. After two full days and making both night programs I did see a lot of unhappy bodies leaving the arena on stretchers but we both managed to stay safe, free and clean. Even bagging a few top five finishes in the night program. Not bad for a couple of moto misfits, head light bike and all. Best of all was hanging with my Cookie who drove out from Kansas and hanging with Wallace in the pits. I even got to see some good old Denver faces. Happy trails friends.