IT LIVES!!!

Finally got the wife's Passport all pimped out and running right. Time for the big moment, so I gathered all the kids, ran off the dogs, and with fire hose in hand it was "Ladies, Start Your Engines". Five minutes later, she screams "Helmets is for sissys" and commences to speedshifting her way around the yard. It'll be hard keeping her down on the farm now...........

"Be My Motorcycle Momma and We'll See the World On My Honda"

Tammy (my wife of 30 years) has spent a considerable amount of time riding on the back of my old Harleys and even more time watching me as I rode away alone. She's never had any desire to pilot her on ride. Her one try took place some 25 years ago when I talked her into climbing onboard my trusty old TL125 for a quick spin around the field in front of our house. She started out riding directly toward the one corner where something other than wide-open space prevailed and ran smack into a stack of concrete blocks. The resulting pile-up was enough to convince her that riding on her own was not in the cards. She has maintained this stance through the course of years and my infrequent attempts to change her mind have proven unsuccessful. In the last couple of years, she's made the trip with the boy and me as we traveled to trials events here and there and seems to enjoy it. She's taken to teasing him that now that he's gone off to school, she was going to fill the gap by learning to ride his Sherco. Well, I'm thinking that if this were ever to happen, the result would likely be hard on her, the motorcycle, and any innocent, by-standing concrete blocks that happen to be in the vicinity. Nope, she needs to start smaller and with that in mind, I took a chance on this 1981 Honda Passport. No clutch, electric start, and a top speed of 45mph. Today is her birthday and after the cake was cut, I led her to the garage where her new steed awaited. She loves it and swears she'll ride it, just as soon as it warms up some. I sure hope that doesn't translate into "when hell freezes over". Ain't they a peach!

Year End, Year Out

Had a great weekend, riding in the last ITSA event of the year and the first one for next year. I had some trouble with my ride and ended up riding most of the time on the Yamaha. I didn't do very well, but had fun anyway. More on the weekend latter, but I did want to offer big congrats to Peewee for his come from behind win in the year-end championship and his move up into the next class. He made the move Sunday and from what I saw, did pretty good for himself. Here he is making a tough section look easy. Good job.

The Ballad of Ernest T

Man, I had a great time this last Saturday. It was the next round of the ITSA trials series, held at LEOR in Marion IL. It was also the last round of the Midwest AHRMA series, which just means that there were that many more fine riders and friendly faces around. I was proud of the crew for their collective performance. The Guru, Peewee, Cpt Dick, Bruce, Mike, Nub, and Malcolm all placing in the money (so to speak). Tony and the gang from Midwest treated everyone to a banquet after the event, with some cool awards, door prizes, and great food. Between riding and eating, I wandered over to where the Captain, Malcolm and some others were holding court around a fire built in a big truck wheel. It wasn't long before Malcolm brought out his Big Baby Taylor guitar and proceeded to entertain us for an hour or so. It was great. I'd managed to miss all other previous occasions when Peewee, Malcolm and others joined voices to serenade the stars and each other, so I found it a real treat. The bearded wonder has some Mad Skills as a picker and singer, and also as a songwriter. If you ever get a chance to hear is original "Ballad of Ernest T", you'll be so excided you'll likely throw a brick through a winder! Too Cool.

Hurrying through life

The boy and I made a little run to the Trials Training Center this weekend, to partake in round 7 & 8 of the STRAs Championship series. I really considered traveling to Birmingham for the AHRMA National event taking place there on Saturday. My old buds from BJRacing were there setting up, so I knew I could count on some inside infor…. Ur, I mean some well thought-out trials obstacles. The MITA guys were also having a modern event to the north, but I gave the choice to the boy and he elected to go hard and fast (the night before, that is). He also wanted to ride his Sherco, claiming an absence of too long from its saddle. Never mind that it ain’t got no saddle, or even a seat. I really think he believed he’d put on enough pounds to take the old man if we were both mounted evenly. I had my doubts about that, so I gave in to his direction of choice. We only rode one day (the boy’s social life calling) and I got to admit, he had me on the ropes but good through two rounds. But just like a young George Forman found out when he let Ali off the ropes after 8 rounds of pounding him; never count the win while your opponent is still standing. I won’t get into details, but suffice it to say that I pulled out all the stops and took him by 2 points in the end. He rode consistent all day (4 loops, with a 15, a 16, a 14 and another 15) and I’m proud of him. He’ll get me soon, for sure. But then again, maybe not real soon after all. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee…”

We Ride Again!

Well, another ITSA trials event finally rolled around and not a moment too soon, I'd about forgot what the smell of two-stoke oil, helmet sweat, and dust smelled like. The scene was the Ranch in Dickson, with a whole bunch of riders competing for either ITSA, AHRMA, or STRA series points. Vintage bikes ruling the day, everything from mid-80s Fantics to rigid framed monsters made in the 1940s. I had a good time Saturday, but Sunday was a hoot! I love the single-line Scottish format, even if it doesn't particularly like me. Ah, I had a chance to clean the third loop Sunday but alas, it wasn't meant to be. I dropped three points as fast as was possible while making one single turn that shouldn't have been a big problem. Didn't mean much in the big picture, I'd already had my feet on the ground enough to have walked the loop twice. I rode in a group of really great guys, who pushed each other to do well, while not making it a matter of life or death. Clay and I were separated, but I had brother Joe with me all day and that was cool. That rascal hadn't set astride his old Yamaha in what must have been a year and still he beat the crap out of me. He would have beaten everyone else on Sunday, except he stopped in the easiest section of the trial with his axle about 2 inches from the end marker (or less). No explaining it, just a brain-fart and it's not like it meant the whole day sucked. Naw, it's a great day when old guys like me can spend the day playing like kids and laughing like idiots (Sweet).

Hanging Out With the Locals - San Juan

I missed the last ITSA trials event. I had previous plans to take the little lady on a long over-due vacation. We had a good time, but I often found myself Hot and Tired. Maybe more on this trip later, but man I saw some prime trials riding spots. The "I" in ITSA is for "International", right?

We'll leave in a Minute!!

Milestone at our place last Wednesday, the boy packed all (or, rather some) of his stuff and migrated west. Yes sir, ready to give it "that old college try". His sister is in from college for a few days and so we made it a whole family thing. She flies back to Florida Sunday, then I guess the nest will be officially empty. Kinda tough on an old man, I'll tell ya. The boy's just a couple hours away, but I suspect his laundry will have to get pretty rank before we get him back to the farm. Maybe he'll get hungry once in a while, or want to visit the dog or something. Heck, he may want to come back occasionally just to see if he's grown enough to make another mark on the wall by the refrigerator. Me, I think I'm shrinking, or it could just be that the world's getting bigger. Time (like kids) march on.

Day at the ranch

Along about the last weekend in May, I joined some of my ITSA brethren for a day of riding over at the Guru's ranch. I got a couple of shots of the continuing effort at the mastering of the dreaded creek/log section that seems to plague a lot of us. Here's old Nubbie breathing easy on the flat transition area between the logs (urged on by the ignominious Skatetruck), and the other has Old Mennonite Mike showing off his new exhaust system in the same area. I never seem to ride well around these guys, but still have the best time. What's up with that? Maybe it speaks to my ability (or inability) as a rider, that I can't do very well if I'm distracted by enjoyment. Or maybe it's that when I'm with these guys, there doesn't seem to be that constant blanket of competitiveness that I feel in other environments. Or maybe it's just the beer. Whatever, I'd do it everyday if I could.

Honeys, Out of His League

Been a while since I posted anything, so I took a few minutes this morning to scan through some digital photos for inspiration. I have this whole folder of shots from Clay's prom adventure and since it appeared to be an especially good evening for him, I thought a nod to that happy time might be in order. So here he is, loading up his sweetie for the trip uptown. Of all the pictures I have from that event, this seemed to me to be the best. It's a good shot of the pretty girl and the slick car, while also capturing his best side. Too bad though, you can't see his pink shirt from this angle. Anyway,way to go kid.

He Did Okay

Last weekend, while most of you were at TTC for the world round and the vintage bike show, I was with my family, witnessing a rite of passage. Yep, my little man has finally taken that big step. One that his mother and I had long been anticipating (and dreading). I'll be honest, there were occasions when I doubted he had it in him. Oh, he looked like he was setting himself up to go all the way, but still there was a part of me that had reservations. In fact, I found out this weekend that he had been holding some reservations of his own. Looking back, I know I should have expected it. Well, that's all water under the bridge now, because he did make it. Made it all the way (with a little help from his friends, and his old man). Made it all the way......to FLORIDA!!!!! Yep, he said someday he was taking off with his friends and hitting the road and by golly he did it. Heck he's there now! In a hotel that's full of high school kids, with eight of his buddies and right next door to Hooters! Man, he sure has made his old Pap proud. Way to go son!! Oh yeah, he also graduated from High school.

Fun with ballons

Can you imagine some guy going 90 mph on I-40 with these balloons trailing a few yards behind him? Instructions for a fun time on the interstate.....................
Step 1. Tie balloons to car.
Step 2. Drive like a bat out of hades....
Step 3. Watch people freak out !!!!
Is this great or not?

ITSA Great Time, Every Time

We made another pilgrimage to Dickson Saturday, for the 3rd event in the 2006 ITSA trials series and I’m happy to report that me and the boy both managed to make it through the WHOLE thing to the end. No breakdowns, no injuries (except the inevitable lacerations in pride), or bad weather to mar the experience and I got to say, riding an entire event will leave you just about as worn out as spending the day pushing a motorcycle. You guys that always make it to the end of the ride should have said something to prepare us half-loopers for the ordeal. But hey, it was nice to go home without box full of parts for a change and I always get a thrill when I can drive past the emergency room in one piece.

A word to those of you that ride trials and were within driving distance of Dickson this weekend. You’re missing out on a real opportunity to enjoy our sport if you bypass these ITSA events. The crew at the ranch make real effort to make it worth your while to come, whether you ride vintage, modern or something in between. You really should try to make the next one; I can guarantee you won’t regret it.

Everything in Black and White (& carbon fiber)

Well, I wrote the previous post last night, then forgot to publish it. This one is current and being written after working on the Reflex tank all day. ALL DAY? Didn’t I just write that I only lacked spraying a little clear on the thing? Well, I had a choice and I was torn. They were planning to spend the day laying out sections at the ranch for the upcoming ITSA event and I wanted to help. On the other hand, I hated to show up without the painted parts in tow. So I concluded that my best bet was to jump out there this morning and complete the painting, before driving over this afternoon. I flew into the garage and started ripping off paper. EGAD! (as my friend Graham would say). I found the paint had bleed under the tape in several spots, wrecking my carefully laid lines. I then proceeded to spend the next 6 or 7 hours gently sanding the edges of the color breaks with a fingernail file. That was a job. I did manage to get one coat of clear on it, but it needs a couple more and I ran out of time. I hate I missed the workday, but I was a prisoner of my own making.

I Ain't No Artist

For the past several weeks, I’ve been working sporadically on a painting job that I’ve undertaken for my good buddy, the Guru. At first there didn’t seem to be much of a rush and with a pretty busy schedule and rain for almost every weekend this year, I haven’t finished what really shouldn’t have amounted to much of a job. After seeing the progress being made on the rest of the bike (as documented on the Guru’s Blog), I really been motivated to get the job done. The tank is this really sweet handmade fiberglass unit, made specifically for the tricked-out reflex they’re building over there at B&J Racing. It’s going to be a nice machine, so I didn’t want to screw up the paint job (too much). I also have the stock fenders, which I’m painting as well. The front fender had suffered a kink or two in its time, so I laid in a little fiberglass re-enforcement underneath help it hold its shape. With the glass matting out, I went ahead and filled in the holes where the taillight had been on the rear fender. Applying the color to the tank wasn’t a big deal, doing it two-tone just takes (me) a little more time that it otherwise would. In the shots above, you can see the first layer on the tank as well as the finished product on the fenders. The second shot is the tank after applying the second color. All that remains is pulling off the paper and shooting the whole thing with a little clear coat. I think it turned out pretty good. I guess there are probably those who’d question the logic of putting so much effort into the appearance of what’ll be an off-road competition motorcycle. And I’m not talking about just the tank and fenders; they’ve got the rest of that thing looking really good. Still, won’t it just get banged up the first time it’s taken to the woods? Well, maybe. Either the Guru or Hockeyboy will likely be piloting the thing and they don’t crash one very often (contrary to convention and my example). But it can’t avoid getting slimmed, no matter who’s driving it. So why bother to make it pretty? Well, why not?

Online, In the Nick of Time

How important has the world-wide-web become to us as a society? Well, here’s a good example. We were in Sequatchi TN last weekend to compete in the last STRA Modern trials event. Clay over-heard someone mention wireless internet and BAMB, he was gone. When I get ready to get back at it, I find him sitting under a tree, instant messaging one of his many fans! Actually, I’m not sure who the fan was in that electronic conversation, but with the poor cell service found there, he was sure in a better mood after finding he could still stay in touch with “the world”. It is remarkable though, to be able to hook up like that in the middle of nowhere?

Another Humbling Experience

Well, been a few days since I uploaded any random thoughts, so I’ll share a few now. I had a great time riding Sunday afternoon with the gang at Ginder’s ranch. We’re thinking of making the trip to TTC this weekend, so we loaded up the modern bikes to attempt re-acclimation of the intrinsic differences between riding new, versus old. The new modern style trials machines are truly amazing. They’re light, nimble, powerful, and extremely well designed. Why is it then that these engineering marvels look so clumsy with me on board? There were a half a dozen guys riding there Sunday, all of them on 30+ year-old motorcycles and every one of them looked like gazelles compare to me. Even the Guru, riding a strange, smoke-belching monster with what must have been wooden tires, made me look like a fish climbing a tree. Oh, the guys tried to cheer me up (I think). Cap said at one point that me and that Sherco looked like a water bug, darting and stopping all over the place. I think now he meant like a bug looks on the buffet table at the Sizzler as it dodges serving tongs, completely out of place. I can’t imagine that I’ll ever haul that thing up there again. I’ll bring the little Honda from now on, at least it’s got real issues that I can blame probable failure on. Oh well, I sure had a blast anyway.

Trials Training; Standing Press

17....18.....19....20 WHEW, glad I started with something light!

My First Trials

File Photo - But Big Red's Twin

It was late spring (I’m pretty sure) in 1975 and I’d gone to work with some guys who were just getting into off-road motorcycle riding. I was pretty young and had been riding on and off road all my life, these guys were old men (they were close to 30) and were just getting into it. One had a little SL100 Honda and another, a shiny new TL125. There was also a brother-in-law who had a new TL, as well as a really nice SL175 Honda that he was willing to part with. I had a street bike, but nothing to ride the trials with them, so I bought the 175 and we set about riding the hills every weekend. It was a blast; that big Honda weighed about a ton, but would climb a mountain if you had a good run at it. This brother-in-law had been reading about and relating all these tales of something called “Observed Trials” to us and of course we were interested. Heck, I was up for anything and even though the TLs were supposedly designed for the sport, I figured that a real “hot-shot” rider like me could wipe the field of a bunch of those sickly little scooters. I mean really, they only had one cylinder and didn’t weigh nothing! Consequently, when an actual trials event was scheduled (relatively) close by and the others decided to give it a whirl, I was first in line too load up and hit the road. We got there, entered, set through the rider’s meeting and finally got started, I was really anxious so I left the others and forged ahead on my own. It was the last time I saw those other guys that day and the last time I saw any of them riding in a trials, ever. It had rained for a couple days, the terrain consisted mostly of scattered logs strewn all over a sea of gray, clay mud. 10 sections, 4 loops and I completed a whopping 14 of them before everything conspired to beat me totally senseless. I think I pushed that Big Red (that’s what we called it) monster twice as far as I rode it that day. I was exhausted, I was demoralized, I was humiliated, and I was HOOKED! As I drove back home that day, I began plans: I’d strip the 175 of everything it didn’t need, and then maybe move the pegs back about a foot, I’d take the seat off completely and get a fresh knobby. Yeah, I could make this work. I had to because even though I’d failed miserably, I’d had a blast.

You might wonder what became of the others in my group; I found out the next day that one of the guys had gotten stuck at one of the first sections. He’d slipped to the ground and wasn’t having much luck getting the TL he was riding out of the hole he’d fallen in. The guy scoring the section jumped in to help, grabbing the bars and walking it out. My buddy thought he should be doing something, so he scrambled up and began pushing from the rear. He taken only a few steps when his feet slipped in the mud, causing him too fall forward. He caught himself on his hands, but unfortunately one of them landed between the chain and the sprocket. He lost parts of two fingers that day, along with any desire to ride trials. The whole crew (with the exception of me) witnessed the accident and came away similarly inclined. Who knows, if I’d not left them in the beginning, I might have pulled the plug myself. Jeez, that would have saved a load of time and money over the next 5 or 6 years. But then, I wouldn’t have been inclined to start back riding a few years ago. I’d have missed the fun I’m having now and the time spent seems well worth it at the moment.

Posting Frenzy

A short mention here of my very oldest friend in the world, my brother Joe. A lot of the guys who (may) read this know him; he’s usually with me when I’m riding trials. We first started riding together back in the 70s and have come and gone in the sport ever since then. He missed the ITSA event this weekend because he’s currently working out of town and couldn’t get back. There have been many periods of time during the last half-century, that we’ve been apart. This includes episodes when our interests have gone in different directions and there’s nothing unusual about that really. Never the less, we’ve always been able to fall right back into a level of comfort and confidence that has been a constant thing all our life. He’s a good trials rider and pushes me to be better. He’s a better brother than anything else and even though he can get a little testy when he’s not riding well, I miss him when he’s not there. Maybe he’ll be around for the next ride and he can push me beyond the poor performance of this past Saturday. I really stunk

My Daughter’s World

I’ve made reference to my son here several times since starting this Blog, but let me tell you a little about my daughter. My Leslie is 21 and a junior at Eckerd College in St Petersburg Florida. She’s there studying marine geophysics and doing very well. She’s a very driven person whose remarkable success is due to a good gene pool (her mother, mostly) and an incredible work ethic. She’s been all over the world, studying in her field and throwing herself into the different cultures she finds. She’s spent weeks at sea on research vessels and sailing ships, beginning when she was still in high school. She’s explored the rain forest and volcanoes of South America, the Serengeti in Africa, and the corral reefs of the Fiji Islands. There have been other trips as well, all of which have helped mold her into a remarkable young lady (please excuse the parental pride). Most of these adventures come as the result of her work at school, as a part of her scholarship, or simply the fruits of her tireless labor. I’ll share some of her experiences here from time to time, even though the subject may not interest those who don’t know her. I can tell you this, though; if you did know her, you’d love her. Everyone does.

Divine Intervention

Once more, I stave off the inevitable. It was close (painfully so), but I managed to emerge victorious in the classic struggle of youth vs. maturity today in Dickson as I managed to squeeze out another victory over my 17 year old son. The scene was the second round of the ISTA 2006 Championship Trials Series and the stage was set for geriatric disappointment as I dealt myself into a game with the cards staked clearly against me from the beginning. Not content with the challenge of natural selection, I (in a moment of shear madness) re-mounted my archrival on what was clearly the superior steed. Oh, it was probably ill advised from the beginning, setting my sights on re-entering the world of vintage trials on what could be the most anemic production trials motorcycle in history (at least in modern history). Granted, my Honda TL125 has received a considerable amount of well-documented modification, but still it is what it is. My son wasn’t much better equipped, set to (reluctantly) ride his much campaigned Suzuki RL. He really hates that machine, so right off the bat the psychological advantage was all mine. I needed the help too; he was nipping at my heals through the entirety of the last trials season. Fact is going into the last round of last years ITSA series, he carried a small lead. A good finish in the last event was all that saved me from an off-season of endless ridicule and a multitude of “old man” jokes. Egad! What a painful experience that would have been, but I digress. Yep, the old RL would have likely sealed his fate while securing mine. SO what did I do? I work a marathon garage session to complete the assembly of a pretty dog-gone nice Yamaha TY250. The Yamaha has a long history of success and still seems to be the clear ride of choice for those making their way into many vintage trials winner’s circle. Still, I thought that entering the event today on a bike he had no time on would have set me up for taking a quick lead. Wrong! He had me by 6 points after the first round. During the break before the second round I played the old “I got trouble with my clutch” game and this seemed to help because with 6 sections to go, I’d managed to shave a point off his lead. Slow progress (too slow) and I was beginning to really start thinking of good excuses when he upped and slipped a foot off the peg while riding though the rocky creek section. (His own worst enemy) this made him mad enough that the next pass through it, he sets a foot down again. Only this time his boot finds a hole and the next thing we know he’s standing on his head and I’m suddenly “up” by one point. Here’s where I get a little help from above; HE CAN’T GET THE THING TO START BACK UP! How’s that for living right? Oh, it cost me. I couldn’t leave him stranded alone in the deepest hole and stayed to help with the longest push back to the truck in history. Also, we both landed in the rear of the pack on points when we took 10s on the final sections, but I wasn’t at the very end. Nope, (at least for another day) the old man still RULES! Better luck next time son and thanks to all who stopped to help. Too bad nothing helped. He he he. Great trials, thanks to Bob (and crew). Also thanks to my riding partners for the day, Graham, Mike, George and (of course) Clay. I had a blast and (at least for one more time) the ride home was great.

A day in the woods

Spent the day at Hacienda fina grande de Ginder and MAN, I had a great time. I'd planned to make a trip down south today, to compete in a Modern trials event. Then out of the blue, I get an invite to clear a little brush, roll a few rocks, and (mostly) spend a little time with some guys who really know how to smoke up some woods. It was also a good opertunity to stress test the little Honda. Good thing too, I found it had a few bugs to work out. I had a seal leaking oil on my points (they don't make near enough contact when lubed like that), resulting in a little miss. Found that the shocks I put on it had all the action and dampening of two pieces of rebar welded in top to bottom. My clutch modifications needed some tweaking and a few other small, aggravating problems. Still, it beat the heck out of most anything else I could have been doing. When I got home, I spent a little time in the old garage, working through most of the items identified during the day. I think when I take delivery of the new B&J Racing assembled Falcon Shocks, Tighten the new Diamond 428 O-ring chain, install the new MSR Raptor clutch lever, adjust the air in the super-soft IRC T-011 radial trials tires, and fill it up with 3/4 of a gallon of high octane Turbo Blue racing fuel, this Vintage Big Bore powered Honda dream machine will be ready for the trail! Whew..., how's that race fans? Think of what I could do for a real sponsor. Oh well, I guess a sponsor would get tired of me hitting the ground all the time.

Little Thumper, Ready to Roll

Well, after a long day of final touches the TL project is complete. I think it turned out pretty good. It starts easy and the modifications all seem to have the desired effect and after about a half hour of riding it around in the back yard, I'm ready to chalk it up as a success. There's an AHRMA trials event next weekend and I expect to see then if it's up to the task. In the mean time, I'll begin the process of getting the TY250 ready for the road (or off-road, actually). I suspect that it'll emerge as the premier vintage steed in my two-wheel stable and putting my son on it to compete against me, is not going to help forestall the loss of my place as the alpha male trials rider around here. He's breathing down my neck anyway and I realize it's just a matter of time before he moves past me completely. Putting him on the superior machine, then going head-to-head, is just asking for it. Man, is that going to hurt! The smart thing would be to put him on the Honda, but he might beat me anyway and that surely would be the end of everything. Besides, it's way to pretty a machine for him to beat up on.

TL-166 Gettin' Close

Here's a photo of the nearly complete TL project. It started life as a 73 model 125 that I bought new in 1976 (the TL wasn't what you'd call a hot seller). I rode some trials on it back in the 70s, but mostly just playtime. It was a very good little all-around trial bike, but for competing, it had problems. Among them, a weak motor, a weird "wishbone" triple-tree arrangement, and it was a 4-stroke. This one sat for a long time before I resurrected it a couple of years ago, so my son could ride along in the vintage trials events I'd gotten involved in. He quickly progressed as a rider, to the point he needed something without the inherent problems of the Honda. I set him up with a RL250 Suzuki (whole new set of problems) and set the Honda aside. While back I stumbled on a NOS big bore kit for a SL125, so I scooped it up and started the project, which I hope will lead to a machine that can be (somewhat) competitive in the Intermediate AHRMA class. In the picture above, I have the exhaust fabricated, the shocks changed and relocated, the engine rebuilt with the 166cc kit. This last made possible by some excellent machine work to the cases, by none other than the legendary Bob Ginder at B&J Racing. A big valve SL head (and carb) was necessary, to make room for the big dome-top piston. I also have changed the front-end to one removed from a 77 model XL125. The straight trees should take care of cause for the problem (noted TL pilot, Dustin Ginder) described as "...the front-end not knowing what the rest of the bike was doing". We'll see. The forks would hit the tank, so I'm in the process of painting a "TL" scheme on the tank from a XL125. It's shorter (by a little), but still required some loving touches with the trusty, rusty, bondo hammer. More to come later on this; it won't be long now.

You have to start somewhere

Well, here I am. Diving off into something else that I don't have time for. I really don't have any time to spare, but I know that the public is just dying for a peek into my life. Clamoring for my insight and destined to hang on my every word. So with that in mind, I begin.

This little trip into contemporary Americana will include a variety of things that interest me. Being of average inclination, I'll share experiences here relating to Motorcycles, Cars, Wildlife, Friends, Family and a host of other things that I might stumble on in my spare time. I'll likely venture off into left field occasionally and even climb up on my soapbox from time-to-time (everyone needs to vent, right?).

One thing I greatly enjoy doing is tinkering in the garage, on…well, whatever. Currently I have three ongoing motorcycle projects that I’ll be reporting the progress of. I really don't have time for three projects (or even one), but I've got a moderately severe case of Attention Deficit Disorder and the ensuing chaos plays nicely into my natural confusion. All three bikes are of the vintage trials variety; that is vintage as defined by AHRMA (American Historic Racing Motorcycle Association), pre-1980. They consist (more-or-less) of one 1974 Yamaha TY250, one 1973 Honda TL125, and a 74 Yamaha TY80 that belongs to the son of a good friend of mine. In the next few days, I’ll post some photos and histories of these machines and we’ll see where it goes from there. That is, if I can find the time to spare. Later then. American Historic Racing Motorcycle Association