Getting through the winter hump

 It is the time of year that the racer finds only solace in the shop. The gear bag is giving bed to the dust bunnies. The sun shine rises late, shines low through windows giving new perspective and light to the dwelling artifacts of the shop, and then the ball of fire sets too soon to do mini bike laps in the back yard. The porcelain tea mug has darkened with stain growing long in the tooth hoping to avoid the cement floor, an immanent demise of all the racer collects and drinks from. Beyond renewing the race club memberships and reserving the holy number not 666 but rather 747, there are other responsibilities. The father, the husband, the maintainer of house and cars. Damn you Mr. Ford. The owner and operator of a full time busy as all hell motorbike shop. The balance. Constantly seeking the balance. Years are few and dreams are many. Will this be the year to focus on taking a race car to the next level. What comes after a class title. Both bike and car, was a lot but addiction says: more, more, more, If you can do it once do it more. The madness is both numbing and captivating. To take something from the brink of the trash bin and put it on top of the podium. That first Pikes Peak win ruined me. It showed me that all the consumer based advertisement fueled colosseum scene is a lie. All the money in the world will not build a race winning vehicle. The desire is was counts. Ambition, work, limber optimism, and bit of JB weld.

This here head is from an old Honda four wheeler. It has a big dumb thermostat otherwise it will fit on a Honda two wheeler. Go Honda! Go two wheels!

It is a head worth doing some work with to make work with what I have.

Aluminum welding skills are still eluding me but I figured what better way to learn than dirty old cast on a very unique and un-replaceable piece. I finally gave up chassing the pin holes and dabbed them with good old JB Weld.

Back-cutting and refacing the oversized valves. The only reason that I can do what I can is because of my stubborn refusal to spend money. That said I must admit that I am a very privileged cracker to have what I have. This old valve grinder was bought for pennies or given to me when my shop was in Denver, like so many of my tools and valuable experiences I have acquired.  I was never the fastest or most brilliant but things came to me I think because people thought, hey what will this dingbat do with this.... 
I reckon opportunity is sometimes dressed in a green mohawk with a firm yet respecting raised middle finger to the status quo. Yo. 

Toying with the idea of boring out this FCR out on my lathe but I am pretty sure I will fuck up the taper bore. I love these carbs. They are like my happy place. I would rather re-build and tune one of these any day over some electronic buzzing whimper of a robot wet fart.

Come Sunday. This winter has been delicious for riding. High 40's or even 50's with just enough moister. Not much snow pack in the mountains but I am not complaining. Yet. This ol 88 sure makes me smile. There are single track trials I can ride on this former 1996 Pikes Peak racer as fast as I can on a modern bike. I wonder what another 30 years will bring. I hope nothing much.

Feeling like a real proper race car guy shit building some sidepods to house heat exchanger for small block cheby. The Coyote calls!

Thinking I might need to bring the back of the pod back further. I didn't want to trap the radius rods but maybe I could just extend the sheet metal and roll a bead like taper flare it up/out a bit like a skate ramp with coping at the lip. What do you think? Like a field of corn; I am all ears...