TEEN DRIVER IN THE HOUSE


It seems like only yesterday that my son was just learning to walk, now he is embarking on a new venture...driving. He called me at work all excited to tell me that he had passed the learners permit test. Man I was so happy for him but a little sad for his mother and I. Things like this make you wonder where all that time goes so fast.
When I got home he and his mother were off to a teen meeting so this would be the first time for me to see him drive away with his legal permit. Are we worried about him driving ? Not really, least ways speaking for myself. He was born with plenty of problems and from day one we had to take him for therapy each and every week. My wife took him most of the time and she would show me what we had to do every night, it wasn't easy on us to do it but we did. Several surgeries and countless hours of therapy over many years brought him along well. So well in fact that most people don't even know he has any problems at all. Its amazing that he was ever able to walk at all or turn a page in a book but he can.
When he was so little with casts on he got to watch plenty of racing because I was into it. Being that we had friends in the racing game also, our son got to see that part to from the inside out as it were. Another benefit, we didn't think of it that way then, was all the contact he had with medical personal and all the way over to racing people. Needless to say, he began to develop a mind that was years ahead of his age plus, a great interest in cars and racing. He jumped right into video racing games that I had played while he watched. A few months of him playing made it hard for me to beat him, seriously, he was a dang natural at it. As soon as we could, because he could not walk well, we got him one of those electric Big Foot trucks. He drove the mess outta that thing. Then we got him into go karts. His first few outings were slow but he caught on and he only knew two speeds after that. Full throttle all the way around the track and stop. There was experience and ability learned from driving those carts and from his mentors/car owners from local tracks and Hooters cup drivers.
So am I worried about his young age of being behind the wheel on our streets? Not really. His go-cart years taught him tons of real life lessons about handling, braking, steering, gauging speed, and how to handle a car in a skid etc. But what about auto insurance for the bump up that's bound to happen? We've already decided when he gets his own car he'll be responsible for his own insurance as well on a separate policy. If by chance he gets a ticket it will be on his insurance. We'll most probably help him out some with it but it will be his policy.
I'm proud of our son and I know that he can handle situations in life that a lot of teens are just now getting knowledge of. In my gut I know that his years of driving those go-carts is already paying off. Thing is now, there are no stands on the streets to cheer him on from.

Wooleys New Site


Just to let anyone who is interested know, I will be starting a new site which will be dealing with companies and what my experiences are with them. Things such as performance, how the customer is treated, how well their service is during and after the sale. Also what, if any, complaints are with the BBB. My first will most likely be about my new motorcycle battery buying experience.

Articles might be, at any given time, about motorcycle parts vender's, shops, restaurants, motels, gas stations, camp grounds etc. We won't be going in with hidden cameras or micro-phones...or...will we.

WREATHS ACROSS AMERICA, IT'S NOT TO EARLY


Follow this link below to the Wreaths Across America web site for all the tools and info you need to honor our nations fallen soldiers. Christmas will be here before you know it so the time to get involved is now. I myself am looking into which location in North Carolina will be most feasible to volunteer for wreath placement. The days for all of the wreaths ceremonies are Saturday December 13th 2008 about two weeks before Christmas. I'm hoping a few will join up with me. I'll even bring the coffee or hot chocolate, which ever is appropriate, for each of us.


http://www.wreathsacrossamerica.org

ANNIVERSARY of INDIAN LARRY'S DEATH


This is not the type of anniversary we want to party to but then again maybe he'd want us to. Billy, (blogging poet) my photographer, and I were covering the August 2004 event on the weekend of the Liquid Steel show that Larry crashed his bike. Set backs in our schedules prevented us from being there at the time of the accident. Frankly I'm glad we did not see it unfold as I prefer to remember Larry, full of life, biking, building motorcycles and being happy in life. My 2004 media pass still hangs from it's spot over my computer where it has been since that weekend.

I'll probably add to this post later.

Live on Larry.

Want To Be A Weasel?









Weasels North Carolina

Ask me more about membership

V-Twin Mfg Boycott?

I was about to look into getting a couple of things from V-Twin MFG but then I found this out...there is a boycott against them for possibly shady dealings.

So to find out more about this whole ordeal you need to go here
http://www.chopperweb.net/vtwinboycott.html and find out about it.
It's made me work harder to find and deal with the known American
part suppliers like FabKevin for one. It's just plain wrong for a company to take someone elses creation and cut them out of the deal.

Got the Sporty Home


I finally made it home with the Sportster tonight. It was a very long day, 10am until very very close to 9pm round trip, so I'll tell you more later after I get some sleep.

Alright, so now it's tomorrow and I'm home from yet another trip. One of my brothers moved with his family over to Switzerland so we had to go and pick up his truck down in the southern part of the state. It's for sale and I want to get it checked over before I make a decision whether or not to buy it also. We made a side trip to Baden lake while down that-a-way and made it back home around three this afternoon.

Now about getting the Sportster, leaving yesterday morning after making a deposit in the bank, I headed up hwy 87 north towards Virginia. It's not a very exciting road to be on as it is just your basic two lane black top. Maybe I'm just thinking that because it's a road that I have been up and down several times. When reaching Reidsville North Carolina I caught the 29 north interstate all the way into Virginia. The road is a mix of concrete sections and asphalt sections which are highly maintained. Gotta watch your speed in Virginia though as multiple troopers and Sheriff cars are watching real close. Keeping on the 29 the road begins to climb and roll and the temperature starts cooling down. Turning off the air conditioner and using my defroster fan made for a nice comfortable cool ride. Staying on this route you pass many small quaint little towns and friendly people. The rolling hills through gorgeous country side with it's many shady spots gave me a thought of wow, Gods country is really beautiful when we don't mess it up with buildings on every inch. It's so dog gone pretty up there with the forest land and farms as well as the unclutteredness of massive buildings.
I was able to follow my directions fairly easily and the roads are marked clearly which helps reduce eye strain. Giving my contact a call at around eleven gave him assurance that I was on my way, I'd hate for him to wait around wondering if I would be coming or not. Most everyone who has tried to sell something can relate to waiting around a whole day waiting for somebody to show up and they don't. These days with cell phones and computers there just is not any reason to let someone know if your running behind or just plain not coming.
Letting it loose on the road was not an option hauling a trailer behind me. The trailer pulls easy making you have to check the mirrors to see it still back there, it's easy to forget because it is so light. Mine has two foot sides on it which in itself is fine except when certain Semis pass. There are ones that seem to push more air than others and make my trailer start to wag back and forth slightly. An un-nerving sight, I'd bet, for someone who's not pulled a trailer much but not really that big a deal. The trick is to just keep the throttle steady if being passed and keep off the brakes.
After a couple of hours on the road I needed a rest break and found a rest stop welcome center that climbed up a hill above the highway. The rest stops in Virginia are laid out so well as well as some of the best kept up I've run across in any of my travels. Virginia also has Waysides which are little picnic areas to pull off on. Nice little places with tables, trash cans and grilling spots like the old days when we were kids and mom made picnic baskets and lunch. After a quick stretch and look around at the mountains before me it was time to move onc; caught me a quick bite to eat in Hurt Virginia then took off up the road. Continuing on the 29 brought more pretty scenery for a long stretch until I made it to my cut off on VA53 which is a road with tight switch backs and narrow two lane. Some turns cut back so quick you can look at your own tail lights while making the turn. This outrageously pretty roadway leads you right up to Thomas Jefferson's Monticello where you can take tours. Wish I'd known that was there so I could have stopped in; definitely a place to go back to with the family or a riding group. Also, there is a Tavern right up the road from there and a nearby winery that offers tours and tasting.
Not long after Thomas Jefferson's home I called my contact and got final directions into his place. When I arrived, he met me at theend of his driveway with his dog and I could see the bike parked outside the garage. Looks good from where I sit so far. On closer inspection I can see life lines running to the battery. We talk a bit as I do the walk around, the crouch down and the questions and answer routine. I'm not disappointed in the least. There are the normal little things that I see for a thirty three year old motorcycle. But he was upfront about everything during our phone conversation days before so no real surprises. I meet his wife and son who come out to watch then we fire the bike up with its life line from the sons car. I was pleasantly surprised that she fired up because the owner had told me on the phone the carburetor needed either a rebuild or a cleaning cause she'd been sitting for around two years. That baby fired off and was shooting a mist of oil through the crank vent tube on the ground, which is not all uncommon for a bike that sits. These older Harley's all seem to collect oil in the crankcase even though they are dry sump systems. When ridden most everyday the oil won't collect as much but still does to some degree. That's another reason you don't check your oil level when the bike is cold. You need warm them up to get that crank case oil pumped back into the oil bag first. Otherwise if you check with it cold you might add oil only to find out now its got to much oil. I work the throttle through the ranges then hold her steady a few seconds, let off then rev up slowly, hold throttle up more then open wider quick then snap the throttle off. A few more throttle pulls and snap offs and I get the nice flame and pop from the drag pipes. A tad loud for me in my older status that I'll do something about later on. I hold my hands to each pipe and check for anything from the pipes that might be wet or dry. Looks fine so far. The owner points out the rear tire and that it does need replacing as I look at it. Yeah, not much tread left there alright. Front tire looks almost brand new though and the rims have been reworked with new spokes which is a nice plus. Overall, the bike looks better than most of its age probably due in large part to being kept in doors.
Some more good news are the extra parts that come with it. Two gas tanks, two carbs for parts, a set of older police hard saddle bags ( I can't wait to clean up and see how they will look on the bike) head light, rear fender to bob perhaps with a tombstone tail light and other assorted pieces. All and all a nice haul and our pre haggle on the phone made for a very, very nice deal. His wife, who in no way looked old enough to have two kids the ages they are happily went and got the title. The whole time we were looking at the bike she had this look of I hope he takes it on her face. The kind of concerned look from a wife who already worries about her husband enough because of his Fireman's job. I bet she would have knocked off another five hundred had it been up to her just to get me to take it. She actually thanked me for getting the bike and was only to happy to help her son get the extra parts into my truck. She wanted to move fast before I changed my mind. I had known that I was going to get that bike before I even left home otherwise I would not have driven for four hours to get it.
We loaded up the bike and strapped her down tight in my trailer. The hills around there home are very steep through the whole neighborhood which is in the mountains of course. Deer feed right beside the road while people walk by and work in their yards. A fantastic place to live I'm sure. I start off down the road going down hill then up one, around a curve then up and down a couple more. At the bottom of one hill I stop at the intersection then make a right and head up this very steep hill in second gear. Almost to the top of the hill and drinking from my water bottle when WHAM!!!. The most god awful sound you ever heard along with metal grinding against pavement. My heart jumped as I was almost afraid to look in the mirrors. The truck quit moving almost as suddenly as the noise happened. I hit the brakes and pushed in the clutch and looked in the mirror. To my relief the bike was still on the trailer and not on the pavement. Getting out I assessed the situation. Hm mm, the latch on the tilt mechanism of my trailer had come un-latched causing the trailer to tilt on the steepest of hills. The bike was now looking up at the sky but was still upright and fine only having rolled back to the edge of the trailer. Being on the hill there was no way I could right the trailer bed, hold the bike at the same time and fix the latch. Unstrapping the bike and getting it off the trailer was not an option by myself on that grade. I tried pushing the bike from the back to get the trailer bed to return to it's fixed position but the latch would not catch. My only option...get back in the truck and drag the trailer screeching and digging into the pavement up to the top of the hill. I put the truck in gear and began trying to pull but at first she would not budge. More gas, a bit of clutch smell and she began moving slowly up the grade making awful grinding sounds permeate the air. I got her over in the grass shoulder part way and the grinding sound stopped and the truck pulled easier on the forgiving grass and dirt. To the top of the hill we went, to my relief again, the bike stayed put.
A construction crew working on a house saw me but not a one came to offer a hand when I was on the hill trying to get that trailer latched. Thanks guys and I gave them a finger salute.
I got the bike back where I wanted it and the trailer bed back in its down position. To ease my nerves I put an extra strap on the trailer to make sure it stayed put if the latch did not hold.
I left and made it back down the mountains without any more problems. As the minutes then an hour passed by I felt at ease that the trailer and bike were going to both play nice the rest of the way home. And they did.
On the second half of the trip several small groups of bikes were on the road with me at various times. I did notice that only the Harley riders gave the wave,nod, smile or all the above when passing me. The sport bike riders just sat all smug and even if giving a glance over would not return a wave. Last week on the way home I saw a sport bike rider on the opposite side of the road slowing down as he looked to be running out of gas. It sounded that way to. So the next exit I turned around and went back to see if I could help. He was already gone, probably on reserve, but I road another mile heading away from home just to be sure but never saw him again.
Think I'll do that again for a sport bike rider? Don't know myself after the way they seem to act on the road this trip. Makes me wonder if they would stop if I was on the bike on the side of the road. Maybe I'll set that up and write about what happens.
The rest of the trip went fine and I made it home after four hundred and forty three miles in eleven hours. It was a long great day to be out especially in that very pretty Virginia countryside. Only wish I'd had someone along with me to enjoy the miles with.

From The Past To The Past and Back Again


Okay, okay I know your thoroughly confused now. Let me explain the title here of the story. Back in the early nineteen eighties, I saved up my nickles dimes and dollars when I could as I was living in an apartment with an older brother and money was tight. Well, money is still tight but back then I was only bringing home two hundred a week. The truck payment was two fifteen, rent was three hundred or so not to mention all the other bills, food, insurance and all that boring stuff. The only way I made it at all was by having a brother for a room mate.



Anyhow, I worked a part time job too, six days a week, for almost two years. Uncle Sam one year took back almost everything I'd made working part time. The company I was working for had been keeping our tax reduction money and not paying it in. So we all got fined and penalized and that amounted to most all I'd made. Somehow, even after all of that I saved up some money.
Survival depended on Ramon Noodles, oatmeal and macaroni & cheese most of the time for awhile. Ramon noodles were good and cheap at four for a dollar; pretty good tasting little things they are. So I saved up and bought me this nineteen seventy five kick start only Harley Davidson Sportster, fresh red paint, some wrenching and cursing and I was happy as hell with it. The spokes were rusty, the rear wheel wobbled, she was a pain to start when cold, the drag pipes were loud as hell but she ran like a scalded dog. My brother trued up my rims for me right there in our apartment with a make shift truing stand using jack stands. I had watched him rebuild my Suzuki's rear wheel before in our apartment after I had broken the rear hub. He was a master at doing it having done MG wheels in California. Sitting there on the floor with a beer, eating his greasy fried chicken, looking at the television he worked his magic yet again on those Harley wheels not long after. Only pausing now and again to puff his cigarette, lick the grease from his fingers and tugging on his beer. It was fun to watch him work those spokes without even a struggle. Me, I got lost in the porcupine look after he had the first ten or so spokes in as it was so confusing to me.
He had me done up in short order the next day after getting the wheels trued up and we mounted them back on the bike. Straight and true she went down the parking lot with him aboard. I was pleased as hell with his handiwork.
I rode the bike all over Georgia with my, lets say, small group of friends. That is until the primary chain gave up right when I was pulling out into heavy three lane traffic to catch up with some of the riders. Not a good feeling at all let me tell you. Back at a friends house we began pulling the primary cover and chain off to see what all I needed to get er fixed. The bike had to sit there with other bikes that ran until I could save up some fixing money. Sometime very early on Columbus day nineteen eighty four, someone came up and stole my bike never to be seen again. All that was left were the parts we pulled off, some trail of oil and red paint on the street where they dropped it. I was pretty stewed about the whole thing needless to say.
Then came my Panhead that I've had all these years which took a back seat to a couple of hot rods. A big block sixty six Ford Galaxy then a big block Camaro like I'd always wanted in high school. Now I've sold off the Panhead and found this nice nineteen seventy five Sportster, red, king and queen seat and electric start. What I was looking for was a larger Shovel head and for a decent price. There were a few to be found after much looking but something about this Sportster just reached out and grabbed at the shirt tails of my memories. Fun times with my friends, my brother helping me work on it until the wee hours and my Pop heading to the house when I first rode it over there to visit after a long hiatus. Riding that old motorcycle was more fun than a brand new bike would have ever been. I think that when it comes to me, having an older machine that I have to tinker with makes it feel like it's mine. Sure, I could get something newer that needs nothing but then it would not feel like mine until something broke.
Now I can go motorcycle camping with new friends and write about camp sites and trips and places to see in my new home state.
So with this bike, I've gone from the past with the 75 sporty to the past with the Forty Eight Pan and back to the past of 75. See, not all that confusing now is it?