Categories: all aviation bicycle gadgets misc motorcycle theater

Sun, 25 Sep 2011

Mechanical Sentimentality

Way back in the beginning of time, when I was riding BMWs around, unaware of my low-powered future, I thought to myself, "Hey, those Ninja 250s. They look cool. I should try one at some point." It took me years to finally act upon that thought, and years more to realize how valid it was: I bought a used 2001 model, rode it for a few years, then sold it thinking I had a better idea in mind. It took less than a year to realize what a mistake that was (my short-lived Kawasaki Z750s), and I sold it to buy a new 2006 Ninja 250.

Since that time, I've been pretty happy with the Ninja.

Some time in the 2003-2005 era, I also thought to myself, "Hey, those SV650s. They look cool. I should try one of those at some point." I actually test-rode one at a local Suzuki dealership, and came away with a grin that would take days to fade, and the firm conviction that here was a bike that was sure to land me in far too many speeding tickets. I handed it back with mixed emotions, but never really pursued it further. Until now, of course.

Later-model SV650s offer something that I would dearly love to have (although I've never actually needed it): ABS. (You can read about my adventures in ABS at Aurora Suzuki here.) Despite the racer-boi contention that ABS is for weaklings who don't know how to ride, I like it, and think it's immensely applicable to the real world, where I ride.

So, I've had my eye out for an ABS-equipped SV650 for a while. They're hard to find, as it wasn't a popular option with the racer-boi crowd who are the cultish fan-base of the SV650. I did, however, finally find one for sale near Seattle, and determined to go out and look at it.

It was an S model, which is less desirable to me, as it has a more leaned-over riding position, although the little fairing is fine, and I really like that both headlights are on with low and high beam. Most of the ABS models sold were S models, so if you see an SV650 with ABS, it's probably an S. I'd prefer the non-S model, but finding one with ABS is essentially impossible.

I agreed to meet the owner at a local business, and spent a few minutes appreciatively looking over the bike, and chatting with the guy. He was very nice, and didn't seem to be one of the aforementioned racer-bois (as was demonstrated by his ownership of an ABS model bike, really). His bike was in good shape, and didn't look like it'd been abused.

Then came the critical moment: "Do you have any interest in trading bikes with me and going for a short ride?" I asked. He demurred, suggesting that as my interest in the bike was not burning-hot, he'd rather not take the risk. I agreed with him, and although it lasted a few more minutes, that was the end of the meeting.

The critical trick about this whole business for me is that motorcycles are not penis-extenders for me. They have to be enjoyable (which is a term that's probably unrecognizeable to a majority of bikers, the way I define it), and they have to be efficient.

One of the things that attracted me to the Ninja 250s in the first place was the nearly ridiculous mileage claims: up to 70 MPG! Doesn't apply to me, of course, as I'm apparently high-mileage kryptonite: I weigh too much, and ride in the city. This combination is deadly, and meant with all my bikes that the internet would claim "55 MPG!" and I'd get 40. So when the internet claimed "70 MPG!" for the Ninja, I took it with a huge grain of salt, and ended up getting 48 MPG average until I changed the gearing and upped my average to about 51 MPG. Good enough, and I now get the occasional tank over 60 MPG.

So, the mileage on the SV650 was critical. What convinced me to look further into it was reading Motorcycle Consumer News's review of the 2007 model in a multi-bike review. They said they got 58 MPG in their ride testing, and they can't have been gentle on the throttle in their testing. I was intrigued. The seller of this particular bike listed that he got 55 MPG. When we actually talked, he said that was achieved by commuting on the bike, with the "occasional burst" of heavy-handed throttle usage.

I had also dived into a few SV650 forums and looked for mileage threads. They weren't hard to find, and the general consensus was that the later models such as the one I was looking at get in the mid-40s in real-world use. I tend to reserve my light-footed driving for the truck, and prefer to use a motorcycle more aggressively, so I knew I would be seeing in the 40s. This effectively disqualified the SV650, and for the day or so before I went out to see the bike being sold, I was uncomfortable with the idea of spending money on such a bike.

One of the things about the Ninja 250 I have now is that I really really like it. Without writing a novella on the subject, I'll just say that it has the right balance of light weight, enough power, and good gas mileage to keep me smiling while riding. That includes long trips, canyon carving (to the extent that there are canyons to carve around here), commuting, whatever. It's the right bike for me.

And I knew that if I spent a bunch of cash on a new SV650, I would want to ride it. And I would. And it might mean the end of my Ninja 250 ownership (for it might make more sense to keep the more-powerful but similarly-efficient bigger bike). And that, I must say, was a disquieting thought.

Pretty much the only thing that would convince me that I would be happy on an SV650 would be to ride one. The only way I could wrap my head around it would be to climb aboard, pilot it around, feel the rush of the more-than-doubled power to weight ratio, and realize that I could have all this and reasonable gas mileage if I were to ride carefully. I could give up the careful compromise of the Ninja 250. But only if the new compromise gave me something wonderful in exchange for the lowered mileage and increased law-enforcement involvement.

So when the seller declined my request to ride his bike, it was with a sense of relief that I wrapped things up, climbed back aboard my beloved Littlest Ninja, and headed back to Seattle. Confident, as I was, that the Ninja 250 really is the best bike for me. Because where's the temptation from a bike I know is going to get worse mileage, and may or may not offer a more enjoyable riding experience (see above: "enjoyable" doesn't mean "most powerful," because apparently I'm not like everyone else).

Posted at 15:59 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Sun, 07 Aug 2011

Regular Maintenance

"One of the advantages of regularly washing your bike is that it will give you the opportunity to go over it in detail, noting such things as loose fasteners, frayed wires, and other potential problems."

Ok, so I made that up, but it's advice I've read many times. My usual reaction is, "Yeah, whatever, blah-blah-blah." Of course I know it's true, but it's not like my bike is going to have loose fasteners or other problems.

One of the advantages of the new maintenance board (see my Nerdgasm post below) is that I'm now much more aware of pending maintenance. This is a good thing, since there are some things I haven't even thought about doing, that I should be, like lubing control cables.

My schedule has been theater-crazy up until this weekend (well, only today, really), when I finally got a break. I've known for more than a month that the Ninja 250 was in need of some work, notably a valve adjustment, cable lube, and some other stuff. I decided that today, I would tackle a big chunk of those things.

I took the fairings off, and did some cleaning as I went. There was a surprising amount of dirt built up along the leading edge of the valve cover gasket, so I cleaned the gasket off and made sure there wasn't any obvious defect leading to an oil weep. The valves themselves were in fine shape, with the right(!) valves needing adjustment on both cylinders. Kind of an odd pattern, but not anything to worry about.

As I was cleaning the engine up after finishing the adjustment, I noticed that there was a lot of dirt-caked oil on the lower right front. There wasn't a corresponding trail of oil/dirt from the valve cover, so I started trying to figure out where this oil could be coming from.

It was with a certain amount of disbelieving shock that I noticed one of the sidecover bolts on the right side, hanging with about an inch of its length exposed. That is, this 30mm bolt was showing 25.4mm of its length. This is, as we say in the industrty, Not Good. It was with slightly greater shock that I realized the bolt one ahead of it was simply missing. There are 9 bolts holding this side cover on, and two of them were gone. Not a good record there.

I was resigned to replacing the bolt later, since I didn't really want to make a store run today -- the metric selection at Lowes is spotty, and I knew I'd have better luck tomorrow at the real fastener store in Fremont. So I pulled out the calipers and measured the bolt. Surprise won out again as I realized it was an M6 bolt, which just happens to be something I have a large collection of: the CL175 is basically assembled entirely with M6 bolts, so I had bought a large supply to replace the fasteners Honda supplied with the bike, which seemed to be made of some variety of soft cheese.

I put the new bolt in place, and scraped the worst of the oily dirt off the engine. The rest of the side cover bolts got a check with the wrench, and they were all found to be soft to the point of danger -- I'm amazed this whole cover wasn't just weeping oil everywhere. They all got torqued down, and now there's one odd silver bolt among all the black-finish bolts on that cover. Hopefully that's the end of that, although I'll have to re-check them the next time I'm working on the bike.

As long as I had things taken apart, I decided to also implement a long-time plan. I installed spare cables (clutch, choke and throttle-pull) alongside the in-use cables. The idea is that when the installed cable breaks, it's an easy task to swap over to the spare. Pretty handy if you break a cable somewhere that's not, say, in the garage where you keep spare parts. I've never broken a cable, and if Murphy's law and its corollaries hold true, now I never will.

So, I'm kind of a convert on the whole "wash bike, see problems" thing (even though I wasn't strictly washing the bike today). I always knew it was true, but this was a pretty stunning demonstration. I'm also steady in thinking that the Thai factory (the 2006 model was only the second year the Thai factory had taken over EX250 production) still wasn't up to snuff. Hopefully they've got this kind of thing sorted out. With the engine mount bolts, and now this, I'm kind of wondering what's next to be inadequately fastened down. (The correct answer, waiting universe, is "none of them.")

Posted at 23:58 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Tue, 12 Jul 2011

I Think I Just Had a Nerdgasm

I've been meaning to do this for years. Discovering that my stupid engine mount bolt was loose again finally prompted me to blow $7 on a cheap whiteboard I can hang in the garage. It was a bit of a struggle to allow myself to go with hand-drawn lines instead of pulling a straightedge out, but sometimes you gotta live life large.

Posted at 23:39 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Sat, 09 Jul 2011

Clearing Out the Cobwebs

Today, I decided it was a good day to go for a ride. Something interesting and slightly challenging, without being taxing. Sounds like a job for Mountain Loop Highway.

I set out around 11:30, having responsibly emailed a few friends with my plans in case I ended up splattered in a ditch.

I've been a bit unsettled in my head lately, juggling different factors in my life: what I'm doing with my free time, whether it be theater or electronics or wrenching on bikes (both pedal and motor), etc. I've been single for a long time, and that's been on my mind too: do I like this life of no answerability, or do I want to be sharing it with someone?

I have found in the past that when my head gets like this, a long ride can help to clear it. I don't know how it works. Maybe it's being forced to be present in the moment. Maybe it's having something to constantly work on, in the form of how to take the next curve. I certainly don't get the clearing effect until I get to the more interesting parts of the road -- the ride up I-5 to get to Granite Falls was just as full of random cogitation as if I'd been sitting on my couch staring out the window.

Fortunately, it didn't take too long to get past Granite Falls and onto Mountain Loop Highway. This is a road which is techncially a loop between Granite Falls, Darrington, and Arlington, although only if you fancy riding on gravel for the last 20 miles to Darrington. I've never ventured that far, although I have ridden 3-4 miles down the gravel part of the road, but I never intended to go all the way to Darrington, so I turned back.

My adventure this time, once you discount dodging all the obstructionist traffic, was taking the turnoff labelled Mt. Pilchuck Access Road. It was paved for the first hundred feet, then became gravel. I decided to check it out, because who knew, maybe there was something cool at the top. The Ninja 250 is a sufficiently multi-purpose bike that I didn't feel like a little smooth gravel was going to do it any harm.

It was interesting to watch the elevation on the GPS (I don't have the Airdata Instrument finished yet, although I wished today that i did). I started around 270 feet, and noted with some surprise that at around 2550 feet, the pavement resumed up to the top, around 3100 feet. The gravel was never very bad, with just a few washboard sections going around corners. I never felt unsafe on my distinctly street-oriented tires.

The parking lot at the top of the road was mostly full, and it looked like the trailhead for at least one interesting hiking trail. I wasn't set up to lock the riding gear to the bike, so I didn't bother exploring in that direction.

The view to what I'm guessing was the southwest was pretty cool, and I took a few pictures. The day was very nice, and if I was facing the direction I think I was, I could see all the way down to Everett and the Puget Sound.

On the way down, I tried an experiment, and took the bike out of gear, and eventually killed the motor. I rolled 95% of the way down to Mountain Loop Highway solely under the power of gravity. I had to start the motor a couple of times for very short uphill sections -- I didn't allow myself to get going very fast, since the road was unpaved and I didn't fancy crashing halfway up a mountain. One of the interesting things about (most) motorcycles is that the only thing that absolutely depends on the engine running is forward motivation. That is, brakes and steering work the same whether the engine is on or off. With gravity to keep me rolling, all I had to do was point the bike downhill to keep going.

The rest of the ride home was fairly uneventful. It was odd to feel the engine vibrating the bike again after the perfectly silent, smooth ride down the mountain. It made me wonder what an electric motorcycle would be like -- a thought I've had numerous times. Unfortunately, at the current level of battery technology, an electric bike would have died about 1/3 of the way through this particular trip.

In the end, I didn't come to any decisions about my various life quandaries, but I was also less worried about them. The long ride once again settled my mind a bit. It may be a temporary fix, but it's a nice respite.

Posted at 22:57 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Sat, 18 Jun 2011

The Kind of Thing I Like to Hear

I received the following email this morning:

Date: Sat, 18 Jun 2011 09:32:36 -0700                                           
From: John 
Subject: Helmet article                                                         
To: Ian
                                                                                
Thank you, thank you, thank you for your article. I used to wear a DOT
3/4 helmet on nicer days and my shoei rf1000 on colder days. I read your
article about a year ago, and threw the 3/4 away (telling my buddies
the strap was broken to save face..) and started wearing the shoei 100%
of the time.  

Two weeks ago, on a nice day, I was involved in a 30 mph wreck with a car
coming out of a driveway. Mostly unharmed aside from a broken finger,
but had I been wearing the 3/4, I would not have a face.  It took me
a while to find your article again, but I'm glad I did so I can thank
you. Thank you for your contribution to the motorcycle world.

I guess it hit home with a couple of my friends after they saw the front of     
my helmet, because some of them have followed suit.
                                                                                
I thank you again, and my face thanks you more,

John 

The article he's referring to is my Choosing the Right Helmet.

I wanted to share this with you, my handful of loyal readers, because it's a beautiful thing we have wrought. I wrote it, but that's only part of the equation. You guys out there found it, liked it, and linked to it. Google crawled it, and one of the main ways Google works (or at least used to work) is that it ranks a site's relevance by how many remote websites link to it. The more links, the higher ranked.

So, I'm proud of my work, and my contribution to motorcycle safety. I wrote the article (and others like it) because I wanted to add to the web, not just link to it (this goes back to the days when people had "homepages" that were just huge lists of links to other pages, many of which were just huge lists of links themselves; think 1996). It happened I was a very active motorcyclist, and was (and still am) concerned about safety and how to pursue our little sport as safely as possible, even while acknowledging that it's inherently dangerous.

But the best-written article in the world will never make a difference if people can't or won't read it. Although I just derided the "list of links" homepage, when you link to a page, you are making a difference. Mention it in forum posts. Mention it on Facebook. It all matters, because it all gets this information (which just saved a man's life) out there.

So, to John: you're welcome, and I'm absolutely ecstatic that my advice helped you in such a meaningful way. If the meaning of life is to help improve the world, I feel like I just made a serious improvement.

I'm still mulling making a First Days video series, which will cover this topic among others. It'd reach a whole new batch of riders, and has the potential to affect many other lives for the better.

Posted at 14:58 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Mon, 16 May 2011

TechSpec

One of the things I figured out a few years ago was that if you put something stickier than paint on a motorcycle tank, where your knees hit, it helps you feel more solidly connected to the bike.

So, years ago, I started putting TechSpec Ice grip panels on my street Ninja 250. It's cool stuff, a very thin layer of plastic which a surface that's vaguely reminiscent of what would happen if you tried to make 200 grid sandpaper entirely out of plastic. It's grippy in the same sort of way, although it's not as sharp as real sandpaper would be, so it doesn't damage riding gear. However, it's also so thin that it wears out. As far as I can tell, they're no longer making it.

So I looked around for something else. I stumbled back upon TechSpec, having forgotten that they made the Ice pads. This time, I found their Snake Skin and C3 pads. These are considerably thicker than the Ice sheets (which are roughly paper thick). The Snake Skin pad is 1/8" thick, made of stiff but pliable rubber, and has a raised diamond pattern. The C3 pad is a little bit thinner, and made of a much softer, squishier rubber.

I ordered a sheet of each, figuring it would quickly become clear to me which type belonged on the race bike, and which belonged on the street bike. They arrived today, and my first impression is pretty positive. I ordered the generic sets ($45 and $47, with about $10 shipping to Seattle), and they arrived with a pair of keyfobs, each of which has a piece of Snake Skin glued to a piece of C3 in an oval. They're a clever bit of marketing -- you're always carrying their material to show off to interested people (assuming you decide to use them as key fobs).

TechSpec claims that the adhesive can be removed and re-applied several times, which is pretty cool if true. I haven't had a chance to get them on a bike yet, but certainly with the Ice panels, re-positioning left an unsightly whiter section where the adhesive's translucency changed. That shouldn't be possible with these pads, since they're black and opaque.

I'm looking forward to getting them on. Next up, testing the two materials with Aerostich suit and leather suit, to see which sticks to which. The C3 material is clearly intended to reduce vibrations, and so is probably intended for street applications (I'm rarely on a race bike long enough to be bothered by vibration). Assuming the C3 material sticks to the Aerostich well enough, it's likely to go on the street bike, with the Snake Skin going on the race bike.

Posted at 17:05 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Thu, 12 May 2011

What the Track Day Taught

I had a track day yesterday. My first time back on the track after decisively quitting racing a month ago. I decided, when I quit racing, that it was just the competitive part of the sport that I disliked. I almost immediately signed up for a track day to test this theory.

So, I went into this track day with a bunch of questions in my head. First and foremost, though, was "Do I even enjoy looping around the track any more?" (I realized, after my first session, that I also needed to be asking a bunch of practical questions about my bike.)

The weather was predicted to be showers, followed by rain, followed by more rain, and the weather didn't disappoint. I only had one session the whole day that was remotely like "dry," and even there I was rolling through patches of "wet." The sun certainly never came out, and the morning started with steady mild rain, followed by a few hours of no rain, followed by a rain which most closely resembled the result when someone slowly and methodically turns up the "intensity" knob to 11 over the course of about an hour. By the time I packed up and left, it was raining so hard that we were seeing sheets of rain rippling across the pavement.

However, the weather is no one's direct fault, so I'm not really complaining. It was just the fact of the day (of course, as I look outside today, I see bright sun and not a drop in sight, and for that, I'm complaining; Tuesday was similarly dry and sunny).

Anyway. The first lesson I learned at the track (although it took a few sessions to really figure this out): Pirelli MT75 tires are not good rain tires. I didn't crash, and only slipped around once or twice. I got plenty of warning that "wet grip" wasn't an attribute Pirelli had paid much attention to when designing these things, so I didn't push them too hard.

In particular, around turn 9 (a wide left-hand curve with ancient, worn-down, knobbly pavement), I could feel both tires squirming outward, which was quite disconcerting. After two sessions like that, I went to one of the vendors (KFG Racing) who'd mentioned inexpensive suspension tuning and talked to him about it. He pointed out that the rebound damping on my front forks is basically non-existent, which will tend to make the front tire bounce out of control on any surface which was less than perfectly even. Hmm, thought I, just like turn 9! I figured, at that moment, that I'd found my bogeyman.

Of course, at that time, I'd only ridden on the wet track, and hadn't yet had the comparative experience of the dry track. Once I did that, I knew exactly what was going on: my tires just suck in the wet. However, I'm sure the front suspension problems are also contributing to the issue.

Another thing I was trying to sort out was tire pressures. The Pirelli vendor at my last race recommended 32 front, 30 rear PSI (or something like that), which never made sense to me -- but I tried, and the front tire didn't heat up at all (it should) and the rear tire heated up perfectly. Tire heat directly equates to adhesion, up to a point (too hot and they're actually melting, which doesn't stick at all). I decided he was on crack, and used this track day to play with tire pressures a bit.

At least for these conditions (coolish and wettish), the front tire was happiest around 26 PSI. I never found the sweet spot for the rear tire, but it was looking like 30-31 PSI would be about right.

On the suspension front, Barry at KFG said that he had replacement damper rods he'd sell me to tame the Ninja 250's front suspension problems, and I'm going to pursue that course of action -- it's worth the $40 he's charging for the part, particularly compared to the cost of gold valve emulators (which I'm sure would be great for race use -- I love them on my street bike -- but cost over $300).

The other major problem I remembered I had to deal with on the race Ninja was the jetting. I had gotten it close for my last race, but it was still hesitating at part-throttle, which is how I take most corners. Hesitating and stumbling while going around a corner is not confidence-inspiring; more like clench-inspiring. Again, it didn't cause any serious problems, but did cause me to hold back, particularly in the rain.

I ended up devoting about half my riding sessions yesterday to tearing the bike apart to mess with the jetting. I tried the following combinations:

Condition	Result
#108 jet and needle on #4 slot (needle most of the way up)	Generally good, but that stumble at part-throttle
#108 jet and needle on #5 slot (all the way up)	Good, with the faintest hint of a part-throttle stumble
#110 jet and needle on #3 (middle) slot	Terrible, boggy performance at part throttle, comparatively strong top end
#110 jet and needle on #1 (needle all the way down) slot	Just as bad: awful boggy performance at part throttle, with a strong-feeling top end

The bike was essentially unrideable with the #110 jet in the carbs. I managed one lap with it like that, but spent most of the time with my hand up, hugging the edge of the track until I could get to the exit. I couldn't really tell if the "strong" top end was stronger or weaker than with the #108 jet.

It was such a pain to get the carbs out and back in that I wasted the better part of the day with the bike in pieces. It wasn't exactly a waste, as half of the sessions I missed were during the rain (when I wasn't excited about riding anyway), but it still felt a bit silly, particularly after I discovered that the second combination I tried was as close as I was going to get to perfection for the day. Pulling out main jets and swapping them is just obnoxious with the airbox in the bike. If I decide to keep riding this bike as a track bike (vs. a race bike), I'm going to pull the airbox again and just go with pod filters. Much easier to work on. That alone would have made it a ~20 minute procedure to pull the carbs and replace them, as opposed to the hour-long, sweating, grunting nightmare that it was.

So, the answer to my first question, that I asked at the top of this entry? I think that I do still enjoy riding around the track, but certainly not when conditions are adverse. Rain (unless I find different tires) is out. Competition is out. Huge crowds of 1000cc fire-breathing bikes passing me right and left is probably out. (The passing yesterday was just fine, but the group was generally skilled, and I mostly saw race bikes in the 200/300 level group I was in. I mostly felt bad for the few times I messed up and held them back.)

Overall, it was a successful enough track day. I definitely would have preferred less rain, and it would be fantastic if I had sorted out the jetting before getting there. (But dyno time is hideously expensive in comparison, so it wasn't actually a waste of money.) I'm pretty sure I'll be doing it again, although hopefully next time I can pick a dry day for it.

Posted at 09:33 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Sun, 24 Apr 2011

That Persistent Backfire

I was out riding around on my CL175 a few months ago, when I suddenly noticed it was backfiring on deceleration. This was a new thing: the engine had always been perfectly well behaved about this kind of thing.

I didn't realy have time, then, to diagnose it, and the bike has sat unused since then. I didn't want to exacerbate any problems, and I figured it just needed the idle jets cleaned.

Finally, today, I had a little bit of free time, and decided to check into cleaning those jets. As expected, they were all crudded up, and a bit of cleaning had them looking beautiful again. I also did some other things I'd been neglecting: topped up the oil (it's plainly still burning oil despite all my top-end work), lubricated the chain, replaced a cracked turn-signal lens.

I took it out for a spin just now, and it still didn't feel right. Sure enough, as soon as the chokes came off, it was back to popping and banging on deceleration (a few months ago, I got some really loud ones that were more like gunshots than backfires). This time, I noticed a ticking on acceleration, which put me in mind of an exhaust leak, although everything was tight when I got back.

I guess the bike gets to sit a bit longer until I have a chance to dig into the exhaust gaskets and check the valves. If it isn't one of those two things, I'm out of ideas.

The thought has occurred to me more than once that I might enjoy moving on from the CL175, and finding a nice Aprilia RS50 for a change of pace.

Posted at 22:26 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Wed, 06 Apr 2011

Race-ready CL175 for sale... sold!

I have compiled a pretty respectable page listing all the work and parts that have gone into my CL175:

Race-ready CL175 for sale - $1500

If you're interested, drop me a line at ian *at* dangerpants *dot* com (or the traditional reaper *at* obairlann, which is harder to spell). Please pass this on to anyone you know who needs to be racing, this is a truly excellent deal on a built-up and proven race bike.

Update: The bike has been sold, thanks to all of you who contacted me!

Posted at 23:44 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Dilemma, Meet Solution

I ended up talking with a few friends about this whole racing thing. The concensus was that there wasn't really a concensus. Some thought I should keep doing it, some thought I should take a break, some thought I should give it up and move on with my life.

However, throughout the discussions, it became clearer to me that I had already made the decision. In the way that you flip a coin just to judge your reaction to the "decision" it suggests, the various arguments only served to gel things.

I've decided that, although it was fun in its way, racing isn't for me. I knew this, in a way, going in. It was something I wanted to work on. Well, I tried, and I hardly feel like 3 years is a dilettante-level committment. I tried, and it didn't work. I gave it a good try. But ultimately, I just don't have the drive, disregard for my own safety, and distance from my own competitiveness to allow me to be happy with racing.

It's a pity, in a way, but much more importantly, in the days since I consciously accepted the decision, I completely ceased thinking about it. If it were truly a troubling decision that I was unhappy with, it's all I would have been thinking about. So, in a very practical way, it passes the smell test. This is a decision which, for me, doesn't smell at all.

Closely related to this decision: I happen to have a very reliable 1972 Honda CL175, fully race-prepped and very reliable, for sale. I'm asking $1500, and am slowly working on putting together a sale page, but for now, surf over to the bike's page and take a look at what's there. That's where I'll post the sale announcement too, as well as here, and on a few select forums. I'm definitely selling to a racer, as it would be a waste to turn this bike back into a street bike.

Posted at 16:14 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Sun, 03 Apr 2011

The Dilemma

I find myself, gentle reader, facing a bit of a conundrum. A dilemma, if you will. It is as regards racing.

I am sitting at the race track even as I type this, sitting out a race. It's raining, and honestly the last thing I want to do is get out on a wet track. That only adds to the conundrum.

The problem is that when I'm out riding around the track, I find myself unhappily repeating, over and over again, "Why am I doing this? This isn't any fun!" in my head. Then I get away from the track, and think to myself, "Oh, it wasn't that bad, and they're fun people, and all the rest of it is quite enjoyable."

The root of the problem is one of those fundamentals of being Ian which may not be clear to people who are not me. That fundamental is "risk avoidance." This may sound odd to people who are not me: obviously, I engage in risky pursuits. I fly small planes. I race motorcycles. Even more dangerously, I ride motorcycles and bicycles on the street. I wouldn't have a problem with skydiving, although I also feel no particular desire to do it.

And yet, I do all these things in what I will call, for your benefit, a "controlled risk" way. Controlled risk means that I ride a motorcycle particularly with an eye toward doing it safely and well. I always wear all reasonable riding gear. If someone came out with airbags I could retrofit on my little motorcycles, I would probably do it. I control the risk of the situation to levels which are tolerable for me. There's still inherent risk, of course, which can't be avoided. In that regard, racing is far safer than riding on the street -- there are no minivans driven by inattentive people to slam into me on the track.

Even so, when I'm racing, there are boundaries over which I don't want to cross. They're not absolute safety boundaries, because I see my fellow racers cross them all the time. But they're my boundaries.

I started this whole racing thing because I wanted to get more track time, and push my skills. Although I have certainly improved (my times started around 2:45, and are now around 2:13 when I'm at the top of my form), there are still certain boundaries that I can't seem to cross. And that's the vital point: I don't want to cross them. I see no value in it, no return. This raises the obvious point: if I've reached the limit of what I want to do, why am I still doing it? Why spend hundreds of dollars for a weekend of riding around a track questioning my own sanity the entire time?

As I came out of practice this morning, I had virtually resolved to quit. I actually offered to sell someone one of my bikes (which they either didn't hear, or chose not to respond to). I just sat out a race (it's still roaring around behind me) on what, in Seattle, is the flimsiest of excuses. So why am I still doing it?

I also seriously considered packing up and leaving. A trait I seem to have inherited from my Scottish ancestors is a certain value-for-money sense, and I'm pretty sure dropping nearly $250 then skipping out on the main event is not good value for money. But that, honestly, is the only thing keeping me here at this point.

But then, there's the counter-argument. It goes like this: Ian, you're so damned straightlaced in the rest of your life, why not take a chance every once in a while? You've already demonstrated that crashing isn't the end of the world (having done it three times so far). Why not push yourself? Why not make it a challenge to yourself, to go out and ensure you haven't died entirely inside?

And I don't really have an answer for that. I would prefer to think that I'm not the world's biggest pansy, and that I can push myself every once in a while to get out and do something that I'm not good at, do something that actually has some risk. (The whole "not being good at it" thing is also an important, if much more vain, factor.)

There's where it all falls. I honestly have no idea if I will attend another race, or if I'll even get out on the track again today. Why push your self to keep doing something, when you've been internally declaring your own dislike for that thing for well over a year?

Posted at 12:28 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Sat, 19 Mar 2011

More earplugs

I had an opportunity to wear the sample earplugs from yesterday on a motorcycle ride.

My initial thoughts remain the same. I'm not terribly fond of the tactile experience of the plugs, and I found that increased pressure in the ear canal was a problem. They are indeed quite effective at blocking noise, and there was no physical pressure exerted on the ear.

The thing that surprised me (but probably shouldn't have) was the shifting air pressure as I moved my head around with the helmet on. Apparently my ears change shape or something as I look over my shoulder before changing lanes, or looking both ways before moving through a four-way intersection. Every time I turned my head more than about 80° to either side, one ear would gain pressure, and the other would lose a bit.

I never broke the seal, which is to say that the noise level never appreciably changed, during all this shifting. However, the changing pressure on each eardrum made it more or less sensitive to sound, so there was a perception of changing noise levels.

My ability to get a plug sealed without uncomfortably increasing pressure in that ear remains essentially non-existant. I was much less aware of the general level of stickiness to the plugs in the midst of getting ready for the ride, but I think that's because I was less aware of it, and not due to any change in the plugs themselves.

All this fuss about pressure can be taken as either a good or a bad thing. I think for myself, for my particular uses, I would not choose to wear this kind of malleable, "sticky" plug (which uses adhesion to get a good seal). If I were swimming, or doing something with less head-shifting (maybe shooting at a range, or operating heavy machinery), particularly for long periods of time, it would be compelling. I also worry about gaining or losing altitude, and what that would do to the pressure trapped behind the plugs.

Ultimately, these plugs are not for me. In part, I am somewhat set in my ways, and have been very happy with the 3M 1100s. I'm not going to toss these plugs, as I could see them being useful for long trips (where the 1100s have given me problems due to excessive physical pressure against my ear canal). I'm glad they're out there as an alternative for some, since they'd clearly be valuable if you need to absolutely seal your ear canals, which is something the foam plugs can't really promise.

As an interesting side-note: with no real branding to speak of, I'm not sure how anyone's going to find these posts other than my handful of normal readers (of course I'll link to them from the updated earplug review page, but that's beside the point). One of the keys to getting a product known and knowable and searchable now is having a fairly unique name for your product (go type "malleable earplug" into Google -- my best guess if I were to search for these -- and I doubt you'll get any clear trend of hits toward this product). I would recommend to the manufacturers (who are they? I'm not sure, and I've corresponded with them; something like Genuine Products or something equally generic-sounding) that they come up with an interesting and unique name as part of their current marketing push. It doesn't have to be fancy. Even Uncle Billy's Earplugs would be better than the current no-name status. At least that combination of words is reasonably unique.

So my final recommendation as regards these plugs is: mixed bag. You'll have to decide based on your own needs if they're the right thing for you. They're not the right thing for me.

Posted at 17:31 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Fri, 18 Mar 2011

Earplug update

I was contacted a few months ago by a rep from earplugsonline.com, and asked if I would accept a sample pair of his earplugs for inclusion in my earplug shootout. I recently dug up his email out of a sense of fairness and gave him the go-ahead.

The samples just showed up: two single-packs, which the manufacturer is currently selling for $1.95 each -- this is apparently a loss-leader deal to spread the word.

I just did a first experiment with the plugs, and wanted to relay my first impressions. I will be updating the shootout, but this is definitely first-impression territory, and I don't want to be unfair to these plugs.

Upon opening the little plastic box, you're presented with two short, squat blue cylinders of what turns out to be a substance very similar to play-doh. The instructions have you mush it about in your fingers for about 10 seconds, then press it against your ear canal until you feel a good seal.

I followed the instructions, and quickly discovered a disagreeable pressure on my eardrums from trapped pressure -- unlike the foam expanding plugs, these plugs take whatever pressure's already in your ear canal, then increase it as you press the plug material in. Maybe there's a way around this, quite possibly by forming a more bullet-shaped plug that inserts into the canal rather than mushing up against the opening. I had moderate success doing this with the second plug.

The plug material is very much like play-doh, although apparently it's made of beeswax, lanolin and cotton. Much more environmentally friendly than disposable foam plugs! However, at least for the first use, they left a slightly unpleasant oily residue behind, presumably lanolin and/or beeswax (only unpleasant if you don't like softer skin, really) -- I found it both on my fingers and in my ears, along with an odd smell (again, presumably lanolin or beeswax).

The plugs are very heavy, many times the weight of foam plugs, although I don't think this has any practical implications. There is essentially no pressure felt, since the plug material gets mushed into place in your ear, and depends much more on adhesion than pressure to maintain its seal. I could see this being a real advantage for long-term use.

The noise-blocking effectiveness of these plugs is obviously quite good. The music I was playing at low volume disappeared, and although I could hear a little bit as I typed or made various snapping, clicking or clapping noises, they were hard to distinguish. I almost wonder, sitting here in a quiet office, whether these plugs block too much noise, but the real test of that is getting them on under a helmet and riding along.

Due to their essentially clay-like, adhesive surface, these are plugs that absolutely, 100% must not be dropped on the ground, or you'll be grinding grit into year ear canals until you replace them. The manufacturer suggests that they're good for a large number of uses, something like 35-60, making these plugs somewhere between disposable and durable.

Overall, I have a mixed reaction to them after my first brief test. They seem very effective, but I dislike the residue left behind, and am not a huge fan of the weight. The absolute lack of pressure makes them very appealing for long rides, where foam plugs have left my ear canals raw from pressure. The packaging is excellent given the use: a small hard plastic snap-case; very unlikely to accidentally spill the plugs on the ground. They're comparatively expensive, at about $5 for 2 pair (which I believe is the normal price). Assuming best case of 60 uses, that's a bit over four cents per use (or a bit over 7 cents per use for 35 uses) at $2.50 per pair. The disposable 3M 1100 plugs I prefer cost about 10 cents per pair (in a 200 pair box), and I typically get five to seven uses out of one pair, for a cost of 1.4-2 cents per use.

More to come. I'll give these plugs a test on the bike (the real test) and report back.

Posted at 17:02 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Sun, 12 Dec 2010

About time

This is the weekend of the International Motorcycle Show, and I had several reasons I wanted to go this year. First in my mind was the fact that Honda just introduced this CBR250R, and I really wanted to check it out in person. Next, I thought (and just confirmed) that I've had my current helmet for a long time -- I try to replace my helmet every 3-4 years, and I'm now past 4 years on this one. Finally, I wanted to sign up for my racing license, and pick my new racing number.

So, I headed down to the stadium district (it still massively annoys me that we have multiple stadiums, but that's a different story), and parked my little CL175 in the parking structure, glad for the cover. It wasn't raining yet, but every indication was that it would be pouring very soon.

As I was parking, Mark Etheridge (a racing buddy) pulled to a stop in front of me and said, "I thought that was you." Yep, big guy in a big yellow suit on a little CL175. There's really only one of those in Seattle. We walked into the show together, and perused the display bikes. He really liked the Honda MB5 on display, and I couldn't stop looking at a Soviet-themed Harley with a structure that I can only think of as the "nut remover" -- a cage-like structure that would be the first thing your crotch hit in a frontal crash. Ouch. Neat bike, though, assuming you could get around that.

We wandered together a bit, looking at various displays and bikes. He ran into an old friend I didn't know, so I excused myself to go look at the CBR250R. Honda had two on display: a black one, and a red/grey one with ABS. There's no external difference to the ABS bike, other than the sensor rings inside the brake discs.

I think that more interesting than the bikes themselves was watching people react to the bikes. There was the pair of very short young women comparing seat height -- "The Ninja's seat is lower," said one of them as she sat on the CBR. She apparently owned a Ninja 250. The sales rep leapt upon them, survey clipboard in hand, and started asking marketing questions. "You're pretty much exactly our target customers," he said.

There were a lot of positive reactions. I watched a couple of vendors from a different booth sit on it, remarking how incredibly light it is (quite true). A passer-by remarked, "Four thousand dollars?" It was clear he was impressed at the low price. People were not saying, "Pff, who wants a 250?" It was encouraging. Mark posited later that it's because the economy's so down, and that Honda never would have bothered bringing in the 250 if we were still all rolling in home-equity-based riches. He's probably right, but I hope that having brought it in, Honda will keep it for a few years.

One of the things that impressed me about the bike itself is that the seating position is very well set up. I fit on it with no problem, and it was clear that bigger and smaller people would also fit, assuming the seat-to-peg distance wasn't an issue. It wasn't very leaned forward (matching the Ninja 250 in that regard), with a neutral seating position. When I got down into a racing tuck, I found that the tank was perfectly angled for this position, and the screen was the right distance away -- obviously Honda hopes that people will race their newest little import.

Eventually I wandered on, and found myself at the Seattle Cycle Center booth. I figured this would be where I'd find a helmet, as they're the only major vendor selling a number of different lines at the show.

Earlier this week, knowing I'd be going to look at helmets, I looked around for reviews, and came upon the very useful archive of helmet reviews at WebBikeWorld. I went through all the recent reviews, and wrote down a little list of the helmets I wanted to check out.

The problem with this approach is that about half the helmets I wanted to check out (notably the Nexx XR1R Carbon and the Akuma Phantom II) weren't anywhere to be found, anywhere in the show. I didn't even bother writing down some of the other "off" brand helmets, knowing I'd never see them in person. If no one carries a helmet, how am I supposed to know if it fits me? If I don't know it fits, I'm not going to bother. It's a kind of chicken-and-egg catch-22, and it's terribly frustrating when you want to try out these cool but underdistributed helmets.

So, I tried on the ones that were actually present, including a raft of Shoeis, a raft of Arais, and a few HJCs. The HJC FS-15 Carbon was particularly interesting, but when I put it on, it wasn't noticeably lighter than other helmets, and didn't fit.

That was actually the story of the experience, as it always is -- I'm lucky if I find one helmet that fits well. I'm not sure if I'm super picky or what, but it's very difficult to find a helmet that meets me all the way around, and doesn't press anywhere, and is actually comfortable for more than a minute or two. Everything I tried on was either too round, or too short front-to-back. Everything, of course, but one: the most expensive helmet I tried on.

I tried to avoid it. I tried on the other helmets. I did everything I could, but I ended up with the next generation of my current helmet, and one of the most expensive helmets Shoei makes: the X-Twelve. Part of the reason, I have to admit, was talking to Tim O'Mahony, who is the WMRRA chief tech, and one of the trained medical personnel who respond to crashes on the track. He responded to two deaths in the last year -- one in which the rider died on his bike, then crashed, and another in which a novice made a mistake and ended up piling into a dirt wall with his bike on top of him. In both cases, he related how he had to just take the risk and yank the helmet off the rider, risking possible aggravating neck or spine injuries.

The X-Twelve (and a few other high-end racing helmets) now include quick-release cheek pads, which means that an EMT can pull the pads out and ease the helmet off a downed rider's head gently, without aggravating any spinal injuries that already exist. Between the fact that the X-12 fits well, and this new wrinkle, it seemed like it was probably worth the expense. I can no longer claim that I primarily get around by motorcycle, but as long as I can afford it, I'd still prefer to get the best safety equipment I possibly can. Particularly as this helmet will be used for racing, I'll take any extra safety I can get.

So, I plunked down my plastic money, and I should have a shiny white helmet here in a week or two.

My final task at the show was to sign up for my race license. This year is extra cool to me because I get to choose a new number. After a few years of being a graduated novice without having actually gone through the full graduation process (ie, doing my volunteer hours), I was stuck with my novice plates and number, 823. It's not a bad number, but I knew it wouldn't be permanent, so I couldn't mark it on anything (putting your race number on equipment is pretty standard practice around the pits).

I had prepared a list in my head of the numbers I wanted, for various nerdly reasons: 555 because it's the number of a useful, simple and popular integrated circuit. 556 for the same reason, plus 5.56mm is a popular rifle caliber. 223 for the same caliber expressed in inches instead of millimeters. Then, when I was sitting down to write down my number preferences, I checked the website again (yay smartphones!), and realized that 250 was available. I certainly enjoyed racing the Ninja 250 more than the CL175 last year, so I have a feeling that may become my preferred bike -- I scratched out the list I'd written down, and added 250 as my first choice. I'm sure I'll get one of 250, 555, 556 or 223, and any one of them will make me perfectly happy.

So, that was most of my IMS experience this year. I certainly saw other things, the show was full of stuff, most of which didn't interest me. And of course, sometimes you just see things that boggle your conception of why people spend money like they do.

Posted at 14:40 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Tue, 07 Dec 2010

CBR250R

I've probably been living in a cave as far as this news goes, but finally some good news in the "Smaller is Better" department:

Honda CBR250R available in the US

250cc and smaller bikes are usually the provenance of Asia. It's incredibly encouraging to see a company other than Kawasaki bringing in a 250cc bike of any kind, much less a sportbike, much less a sport bike with available ABS.

I'm too invested in the Ninja 250 at this point (having a fairly new one as well as a race bike) to consider expanding my stable with another new bike, but you can bet I'll be keeping up on news about the littlest CBR. I'm particularly interested to hear how the engine compares between the Ninja and the CBR, since the Ninja has a high-revving twin (13.5k redline) and the CBR has a single (likely about a 9k redline, I haven't been able to dig up the actual number yet). The CBR should prove to be considerably friendlier to new riders, with a better spread of power down low than the comparatively high-strung Ninja.

Kudos to honda for bringing it in! I wish they'd brought in the inline-4 CBR250 of yesteryear (19k redline!), but the single is a great choice if you're aiming the bike at new riders, which they certainly are.

The CBR is priced exactly the same as the Ninja in the US (and cheaper than the Ninja in Canada), or you can blow an extra $500 on ABS, an option Kawasaki doesn't offer. This is going to be interesting.

Posted at 16:52 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Fri, 12 Nov 2010

Countersteering and Gyroscopic Effects

I've you're a long-time reader of this writing channel of mine, you'll know that I'm a big proponent of clear-headed thinking on countersteering. I've done a Countersteering 101 video, a Slow-Speed Countersteering video (to demonstrate that countersteering is still possible and still happens even at very low speeds), and wrote a long article on countersteering for new riders.

I've always maintained that although gyroscopic forces certainly play some role in cycle steering, it's not very large, but I've never backed that up. It seems intuitively obvious to me, having played with a hand-held bicycle wheel at a museum, and felt the gyroscopic forces involved. They're there, no question, but they're not all that strong.

So I was interested when someone commented on my Countersteering 101 video with a link to an article that goes into a bit more depth on the subject:

Gyroscopic Effects Have Almost Nothing to Do With Your Ability to Ride a Bike

It's nice to see other people out there dispelling myths on the subject.

Posted at 10:38 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Wed, 15 Sep 2010

Thoughts on racing the Ninja 250

My race-day report earlier didn't really address some of the Ninja 250-specific stuff I was pondering.

The bike acquitted itself pretty well. The suspension upgrades (.95 kg/mm springs in front, '08 stock shock in back, cranked to full preload) were definitely worthwhile, although I really need a stronger spring in back. The back end was wallowing a little bit -- not a lot, but enough that I was aware of it. The front springs are so stiff that even at full preload (a poor-man's stiffer spring), the rear shock was a bit mushy feeling. Damping was fine on both ends, or at least I wasn't aware of it. Unfortunately, I don't think the '08 shock can be resprung, so if I want to solve the problem, I'll need to find another way of doing it.

The stainless steel braided front brake line was definitely worthwhile, and I'm sure most of the bikes that make it out next year will sport them by the second session. I already knew this, but it was nice to see on the track too. Between the suspension and the SS line, my bike was the most race-ready of those that went out.

Tim had BT-003 tires on his (cheetah!) '09 bike, which was to his advantage when the track was dry, but left him behind me (a position he never sees, except while passing me, normally) for the first damp-track practice session. He said his tires were "like ice" on the wet track. Phil, running GT501s and stock suspension, said that my form was good enough around turn 2 that I was pulling away from him in the practice (and I was going pretty slowly, in my own estimation, not trusting my tires too far).

The BT45s I had on were fine, but I noticed particularly in the entrance to turn 3 that I was chirping the rear tire every time I downshifted. It's not a big deal, as I never have to downshift while leaned over very far, but I have a feeling that the relatively hard center compound on the BT45s is contributing to that. I'd like to put stickier tires on the bike, and I've emailed Pirelli (requesting the advice of their experts, according to the web form I filled out) asking their opinion of the MT75 vs. the Sport Demon. I'd rather go with the MT75 if they're equivalent or better, as the smaller tires will be better handling, and will noticeably reduce rotating, unsprung mass. Interestingly, after my rides on Sunday, I was able to clearly see the line seperating the hard center and soft side compounds on the rear tire.

I found myself holding back through turn 2 (where I feel like I'm getting pretty good, with the new pavement, and as my crash there recedes a bit into history), unsure of the grip my tires would actually have. I know I wasn't pushing them too hard, and I can go further there, but allowing myself to do it is a real challenge. I still pussy-footed through turn 3 and 4, and as always, I know I can go faster through there. I know how to do it, I know what the good line is, and I just can't get myself to actually do it. This isn't a Ninja vs. CL issue, it's just me.

Having the greater power of the Ninja was very pleasing to me. I didn't even take out my airbox snorkel (something I think everyone else did), and I was doing well down the straight. If I follow through with my plans to get a Muzzy exhaust (single-sided, therefore lighter, and theoretically flows better) and yank out the airbox, I should be able to add a little bit to top-end power, at the expense of midrange. It's a compromise I'd never make on a street bike, but for a race bike, it looks pretty attractive. I'm going to get the bike down to a dyno before I make any changes, and see what happens with and without the snorkel, then take further dyno runs to figure out jetting, and see what kind of gains I actually make (I don't expect much -- I honestly just want to get the weight reduction; one ninja250.org forum poster said the stock system weighs 20 or so lbs, and the Muzzy weighs 5.5).

The Ninja 250 is a much physically larger bike than the CL175. I always knew I fit on it better, but it was pretty dramatic how clear that was when I immediately leapt from the Ninja to the CL on Sunday. The CL felt weedy and insubstantial, where the Ninja had felt solid and reassuring, at least as far as my physical contact-points went. The Ninja was obviously suffering a bit from weight: where the CL175 feels stiff and solid on its suspension primarily because it weighs very little, the Ninja felt like the forks were flexing a bit. I may build myself a fork brace to try out, but I can't see spending the $100+ the commercial braces seem to command.

I think I'm going to get some of that Stomp Grip stuff (nubbly grip tape that goes where your knees hit the tank, to give something to hold on to), as I think it might help increase my confidence in hanging further off the bike, and will probably help me relax my arms a little bit in some situations. It's a relatively cheap investment, and seems worth trying. I have grip tape on my street Ninja, and like the effect, although it's really just a friction tape, where the Stomp Grip is actually sizeable nubs sticking out. I've never bothered on the CL, because the tank is so skinny I can't really grab it with my knees.

Overall, I was very pleased with the Ninja 250 racing experience. Sure, I came in last, but I was up against dramatically more skilled riders. I was on a bike I enjoyed much more, and it definitely seems like it's worth pursuing for next year.

Posted at 00:11 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Tue, 14 Sep 2010

Lots of pictures...

Pictures like this are why you take a ton of pictures at a fast-paced event like motorcycle racing. Most of them are crap, but this one turned out really well:

Posted at 08:54 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Mon, 13 Sep 2010

Racey-day fun

I have pictures brewing for this story too, they're just not ready yet.

So, I've been prepping this Ninja 250 for the track, and this last weekend was the time to do it. I took Friday off, and finished bike prep by installing the new stainless steel braided front brake line. This is an absolutely necessary modification, in my mind -- I'll skip the exhaust and the pod filters and whatnot, but the two changes every Ninja 250 needs for me are suspension and brakes.

I got my friend Jesse's trailer loaded up (thanks for the loan, Jesse!), and all my stuff packed into the truck in plenty of time, and had a leisurely evening, including impromptu dinner with a friend. Mmm, indian food.

Saturday morning came nice and early, and I was out of bed around 5:30 (I don't honestly remember, it was so early that things like clocks didn't make a lot of sense yet). Pack food, final check, lock and unlock the door several times as I remember things. Finally, around 6:40, I rolled out.

20 minutes later, rolling down I-5 southbound toward the track, I was passing under the West Seattle bridge when I noticed what I first thought was a hockey stick, slowly and gracefully pirouetting in my lane. It was travelling about the same speed as traffic, so it had obviously been dropped by a vehicle just in front of me. Traffic wasn't heavy, but there was enough traffic around that I couldn't quickly change lanes, and there was this delighful Jersey barrier (ie, solid concrete wall) to my right.

As it got closer, it resolved itself for what it really was: about 8 feet of 1-1/2 inch iron pipe. There was nothing for it, and as I overtook it, it passed under my left tires. There was a big bump, but no apparent damage, so I put it out of my mind.

Going up the hill after that, I noticed a truck to my right, exactly pacing me. This kind of thing annoys me, particularly when my truck is suddenly acting underpowered, and I feel a strong urge to pull over just in case, having recently run over a very solid-looking piece of iron in the road. He eventually pulled forward, and I saw that it was my friend Mark, also on his way to the track. I offered him a weak smile and a wave, and he pulled away.

About a mile later, I was looking in the rear view mirror, and noticed something black spinning away from my lane. I thought to myself, "I hope that's not from my truck, I don't want to lose anything." I'd tied everything in pretty well, though, so I wasn't worried. I looked in the mirror a few seconds later, and saw several more black things spinning off, and realized I had a problem. I pulled off the road as quickly as I could, and took a look back at the trailer, and the small cloud of burnt-rubber smoke coming from the left tire -- it was completely shredded. The wheel had a huge dent, and it had obviously deflated the tire within a second or two of hitting that pipe.

After far too long sitting there dithering on what I should do, I finally detached the trailer, and locked it and the bikes to the guard rail (thankful that I'd remembered to bring along a long cable just in case), and headed south, to the Harbor Freight store. Jesse's trailer is from HF, and I figured they'd probably have a spare wheel. Of course, it was 7:30 in the morning when I got there, and they don't open until 8:30. Arg! The rider's meeting (mandatory) is at 8:30. Looked like I wouldn't be doing any racing that day.

HF fortunately opened a bit early, and I was rolling northward to retrieve my (hopefully not already stolen) trailer full of motorcycles from the side of I-5 by 8:25. I couldn't see them as I passed where they should have been on my way north, and the last few minutes of my trip were quite tense.

Turns out there had been some strategically placed shrubs blocking my view, and the trailer and bikes were still exactly where I'd left them. After an inordinately long digging-around period, I located all the pieces of my jack, and jacked up the trailer. Then I jacked it back down, loosened the lug nuts, and jacked it back up. The new wheel went on with no problems (fortunately I spotted in the store that I'd first grabbed the right wheel with the wrong number of lug nuts), and I was quickly on my way to the track, only about 2 hours behind schedule. Equally fortunately, I had my full tool kit with me, so the fact that I needed a 21mm socket for the trailer lug nuts didn't even phase me.

I got to the track around 9:15, and even the front gate folks had heard rumors of my misfortune. She admonished me for missing the rider's meeting, and I said, "I know, my trailer tire blew up." "Oh, that was you!"

By the time I was ready to start unpacking (having quickly zipped over to registration to pay my moneys), the slow practice session was getting called. I hadn't even rolled a bike off the trailer, much less had a chance to get out my leathers (not for lack of trying: my fellow racers had offered to get my bikes unloaded, but were stymied by the cable lock I'd left looped between the bikes -- thanks for the effort!). Oh well, I'd be in time for the one race of the day, a make-up race from the first session, where Claude Jinks had passed away while racing, which had cancelled the rest of those races.

I ran in that race, turning in a mediocre 2:17, just like the last time I'd been out. I missed the majority of the races this season, due to a number of different complications in my life. Then it was time to lower the canopy over the bikes, and head out. I promised the theater folks that I'd be back to Seattle by 1, and still hadn't left the track at 1:10, procrastinating while hanging out with my racing friends. I don't get to see them enough. Eventually, I did make it to the theater, and we got some stuff done.

Sunday morning came too early, although I was able to get up at 6:30 instead of 5:30, since I didn't really have to do any setup. At the rider's meeting, Tim, #220, rolled his Ninja 250 (an '09, the cheetah bastard!) up, and Phil Cook (#217) and I did the same. Tim and Phil gave a little speech about the Cheapskate Cup class, encouraging others to join in the fun. I have a feeling next year is going to see a few more 250s out on the track.

The schedule on Sunday was a bit mental. 9:40, practice. 11:40, 250 race. 1:10, 250 race. 1:40, 160 race (back to back). 3:40, 160 race. The weather forecast was for rain, and we did get a bit of a misty rain, starting at the rider's meeting, and ending during the practice session before ours. So, the track was distinctly damp when we went out for our practice.

Of course, I took the 250, as I'd never had it on the track before, and wanted a chance to sort out any bugs before the 11:40 race. It ran well, and nothing obviously needed attention, although the track was wet enough that none of us were able to go very fast. I got one of the best compliments I've ever had: Phil said my form through turn 2 was really good, and that he was unable to keep up with me. Granted, he was on a 250 with stock suspension and brand new (therefore slippery) tires. Tim (who is hella-fast) was behind me for the first few laps, and although I was worried about holding him up, he said I was fine. Apparently his race-compound BT-003 tires were "like ice" on the wet track. Score one for running BT-45 sport-touring tires on the track! He actually had the back end step out in turn 7, to such an extent that the corner worker thought he was going down (we ended up red-flagged at turn 7 after #87 crashed in turn 5 -- no injuries, but he flung a lot of gravel onto the track that needed to be cleaned up).

The first race at 11:40 was a 250 race, and it turned out pretty well for me. We were riding with a couple of other classes of bikes, some of which were considerably more powerful than us. I didn't have any problems with that, and I was only lapped twice (turning a 10 lap race into an 8 lapper for me). My times were pretty good: 2:12 worst lap (the first) and 2:05 at my best. 2:12, for reference, is the fastest I've ever gone on my 175. I'm sure it's all down to higher straightaway speeds and more power exiting corners, but it was pretty cool to see that 2:05 sitting on the timing sheet.

Posted at 12:53 permanent link category: /motorcycle

Wed, 08 Sep 2010

Almost there

The track Ninja 250 is almost ready. I got the number plates on last night:

All that remains (to be legal) is the belly pan. I'd also like to get the front brake line replaced, but that's a secondary concern, and I'll only worry about it once I have the belly pan sorted out. Almost there!

Of course, it looks like Saturday's weather might be acceptable, and Sunday's will probably be rainy. Not that you can trust any forecast greater than one day out around here, but things are certainly moist today, and it doesn't inspire me with confidence for the immediate future.

Good thing I've got BT45s on the bike, I guess. They're supposed to be really good rain tires.

Posted at 11:34 permanent link category: /motorcycle

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Written by Ian Johnston. Software is Blosxom. Questions? Please mail me at reaper at obairlann dot net.