Racecar Roadkill

There is a certian joy in doing as much as possible with as little as possible. There is a point when it becomes redicules and the stomach eats it self. So far I feel both full and fat. Winning I suppose. But I know that one day, puraps tommorow that first trophy I won will sit right next to the last one I have won. If there is anything I have learned in life it is that it doesn't get any easier. Bleeding brakes and making breakfast, keeping a smile on my face and a healthy bill of sale for the organ doners. Every day is a challange and I know that as long as I keep facing up to them than I can keep winning. That is what I call it when I don't give up. Winning. No matter if I am first, last, or in between. The only one who can beat me is me. That said I know that days are numbered but my love of racing is not a love of coming in first. That has just become a side effect. Motivating as it is. It is a load to carry and maybe someday I will dump that load on the side of the road and have some more fun just the same.

The Hayabusa car was great all weekend. Only time I touched a wrench was for a brake balance adjustment. Missed the podium by a couple of seconds and only about 6 seconds of my bike time. The brakes are still an issue but as long as I ratched strapped the pedal down while not in use they worked good enough to keep me from torpedoing of a cliff through the forrest. Yay.

I finally got the old Baja Betty bike out. This bike came back into my hands over a year ago after a 16 year seperation. I have put a lot of work into this thing recently in hopes of having a rejuvenating desert freedom machine. The CR500 hybrid shock needs another re-valve along with the forks. It was great to finally ride it last weekend.

The past few weeks have been a bit mental for me. Sometimes I don't know what to do other than just keep doing what I know how to do. Going to the Monarch hill climb with my daughter was something I don't think I will ever forget. I know I am one lucky Dadda. I did not qualify my bike on pole position for the first time in my ten year history of racing this event but I pulled out the win by a bit over 1 second. Not sure if that means anything at all. I reckon the trophy will end up in a dumpster one day along with my shitty old man underware. The here and now is really where it is at. Bubbles in the brake fluid and all. Pump, bleed, repeat.The big Lands End Hill Climb is in less than two weeks. Captain Ahab Alex flies in form Norway in 8 days. Moped Dick hungers for the salt.... TUNE IN NEXT TIME TO FIND OUT WHAT THE HELL HAPPENS.....

Balance = confidence

 For the past few weeks I’ve been bleeding. Bleeding brains, knuckles, patience, but mostly just bleeding my brakes. Over and over again. The new rotor and caliper were easy enough to fit, not really but they went on in a few nights. But I couldn’t get the air out. More like couldn’t keep air out. I’d get em good and then after a day or a during a test drive they’d go squishy. I found the used sprint car willwood caliper to have loose fittings behind the bleeders so I went and tightened em up until they snapped right the fuck off. So I bought a brand new caliper and it was firm juice for a day so I went and had new brake lines made a couple days ago. All good until again after a day they feel just a bit less firm… wtf! So I keep the pedal ratchet strapped down over night while it sits loaded up on the trailer ready to go racing tomorrow on a mountain side. I hope I have brakes when I need them.