Attention Custom Bike Builders and/or Riders

I follow several bike blogs, and see a lot of custom stuff. Most good, some not so good. Some just not my taste, but probably good anyway.

Then, there are some real head-scratchers. Things that make ya go "Huh?"

Can someone please tell me what the current fascination is with the narrow-ass handlebars? Some of them aren't as wide as an old school peanut gas tank. It doesn't look like you'd have much leverage, and if you have any shoulders at all, it just seems like you're gonna look like you're grabbing hold of a pogo stick when you ride.


Seriously. Someone please explain it to me.

n + 1

What is the ideal number of motorcycles to own? I believe it can be stated as a mathematical equation: n + 1, where n = (current number of bikes I already own).

Seriously, though. The “Perfect Garage”. We've all thought about it. Sure, most of Us Who Ride would love to have any number of motorcycles, of various makes, styles and vintages. There's a little bit of Jay Leno style hoarder in each of us.

I've definitely given it a lot of thought over my two decades of riding. When I daydream about winning the lottery, I don't think about mansions, yachts and jetsetting to Europe. Yawn. I think about roads and what bikes I'll use to ride them. Bear in mind that this list is in a constant state of flux, both in quantity and content.

Currently, I'm thinking my perfect bike stable would contain one for performance, one for style, one for long range comfort, and maybe even a sidecar rig – what I like to call a “biker's station wagon”.

Right now, I have a naked sport bike: a 2003 Suzuki SV1000 named “Suzi”. I love this bike so much it's the only one I've named. I've tried to name other bikes, but it never stuck. I don't know if that's significant or not; I'm just rambling. Of the ten I've owned, she's the one who's traveled the second most miles with me. Barring some horrible misadventure, she'll pass up the other one (a 1985 Honda Shadow 700) fairly soon. She's got great performance, but is easily held in check, too. Reasonably comfortable; though I really need an aftermarket seat for trips.

The cruiser. Ahhh, the quintessential American motorcycle experience. Barhopping, cruising the boulevard, looking for a date or showing off the one you have. Stepped seat, big front wheel, teardrop gas tank. The style I like best has a low seat, high-ish neck, drag bars on risers, mid controls with highway pegs. I'm not brand loyal, but imagine the bike Mickey Rourke rode in Harley Davidson and The Marlboro Man. Suzuki and Yamaha are both making some bikes with the right profile. See the Boulevard series and the Star Stryker and Star Raider. Of course, I wouldn't be averse to an old 70s or 80s 4 cylinder riceburner being modified to have that same profile.

I've never really been into touring bikes. Too much windshield and fairing between me and the wind. Too much bodywork. I prefer a bike to look like a bike. In recent years, however, I've warmed up to the idea of a bagger. Maybe I'm getting old? It's not a full dress tourer, more like “half-dressed”. Hard saddlebags, a small fairing, minimal bodywork and a cut-down windshield. It's the perfect compromise between a relaxed cruiser and a gaudy, overloaded dresser. You get a little wind protection to help your back survive 800 mile days, secure, locking, waterproof saddlebags to keep your stuff safe and dry, but no annoying bodywork covering up the focal points of its “motorcycleness”. I'm really liking the looks of the Kawasaki Vaquero, the Yamaha Star Stratoliner Deluxe, and the Harley Davidson Road Glide and Street Glide.

Of course, with a twelve year old son, an ol' lady and a baby girl, that sidecar combo is kind of appealing, too. Older BMWs just look right with a sidecar attached, don't they? Fun for the whole family, with lots of room to stash camping gear and stuff for a week on the road. You know, assuming I could convince the family to spend a week on the road with me...

I seriously doubt I'll ever have all these bikes – it's a daydream. But, it's fun to dream, ain't it? Sometimes maybe it's even more fun to dream about having it all than it would be to actually have it all. Besides, none of us will ever have the perfect garage, because as soon as that last bike gets put in its stall, the algebra kicks in again.

n + 1

A Serendipitous "Oops" and a Near Miss

There are a couple of incidents that happened early in my riding life that have affected my outlook on riding ever since, and cemented motorcycles as a permanent and important facet of who I am.

The first requires an explanation before the telling. My first bike was a 400cc automatic. Well, Honda called it “automatic”. Semiautomatic would be more accurate, because you did have to shift gears – it had first and second gear, just no clutch. Neutral on the bottom. Hold in the brake, lift your toe to engage first gear, roll on the throttle and go. Around 45 mph or so, shift into second. It was a great learner bike for somebody who really couldn't drive a standard. I was able to learn about balance and how to deal with leaning and with being exposed to the elements without worrying about being in the right gear or working a clutch. I technically knew how to drive a standard; I just really really sucked at it at the time, just due to lack of experience.

I bought that bike in January of 1989, and rode it nearly into the ground. In addition to a lack of skill in operating a clutch, I had absolutely NO concept of maintenance. I went months without changing the oil (the level's okay, what's the problem?) or adjusting the chain (but I couldn't figure out what that loud clatter under acceleration was...). But the result of that is a topic for another day. Fast forward to October of '89. I'd returned from the Persian Gulf and had some cash. What to do? Head to the bike shop, of course! Luckily, I had that cash, because I had to part with a chunk of it to undo the damage I'd allowed to happen to the poor Hondamatic. Once there, I started to look around, because... well, because you can't be around that many motorcycles and not look. Or at least, I can't. The Hondamatic, being from the 70s, was what was referred to as a “standard” style bike. Meaning no real “style” to it. It had what it needed to have, arranged in an efficient and reasonably comfortable way. Kind of boring, but it got the job done. (Side note: I thought it was boring then. I've come to develop a real appreciation for the minimalist “standard” aesthetic in more recent years.) What I was interested in was a cruiser. Pull-back handlebars, stepped seat, laid back riding position. Well, lo and behold, there were two used (read: within my financial reach) bikes on the showroom floor that fit what I was looking for. They were both Honda Shadows. They were 700cc, mid sized, which is also what I was looking for – I didn't want to get in over my head either with too much power or too much weight if (when) I dropped it. I checked them out. There were the same year model, one had more miles, but the previous owner had installed highway pegs, so that saved me some trouble and money. Plus, if I remember correctly, the lower mileage one had something odd about it, like mismatched footpegs or something, leading me to believe it had probably been in an accident. I shopped around a little (very little), but wound up coming back to buy my 1985 Honda VT700C Shadow. 

 

Now we're getting to the meat of the story. It was late November by the time I got the loan from the credit union, paid for the repairs to the 'Matic, and put ink on paper to buy the Shadow. Now, I'm a native of Atlanta, where we'd get one good icy day a year and that would shut down the roads. We just didn't know how to drive in snow and ice. When I say it was late November when I picked up my new-to-me bike, bear in mind this was in Maryland. I saw my first “White Thanksgiving” that year. Also, I lived in the barracks, walking distance from where I worked. So, the bike sat for most of the winter, only going out for short rides when the roads cleared.

Spring came and it was Time To Ride. I had a friend in the barracks who'd previously owned a bike, so I loaned him a helmet and the 400, and I mounted up on the Shadow. Fun stuff. Maryland back roads, cool air, but warm sun, all in all, a pretty day. Great riding weather. Apparently, it was great driving weather, too. We hit a line of literal “Sunday drivers out for a spin”. I was frustrated by the cars holding me back. This frustration may be what contributed to what happened. I'm sure it was mainly due to having almost doubled the size and power of bike I was used to, combined with unfamiliarity with clutch operation. Plus, I'd only been riding around a year, and had just spent most of the winter not riding.

We had to stop for a red light. No problem. We were the first two vehicles at the light, so at least it would provide some distance between us and the long line of cars we'd been stuck behind. I remember having both feet on the ground, but having to keep my hand on the front brake because we were pointed uphill. On a fairly steep grade, too. The light turned green, I let the clutch out, and let go of the brake to apply throttle. And promptly stalled the bike. Sigh. Started it back up. Stalled it again. Stupid hill. Looked in the mirror and saw what seemed like hundreds of cars now being held up by me. Got a little embarrassed and a lot more frustrated. Pulled in the clutch lever. Stabbed the starter button. Revved the throttle. Revved harder. Dumped the clutch. Took off like a shot. “That's better” I thought as I pulled in the clutch lever to shift into first. And that's when the front wheel touched back down to earth. “Holy CRAP!!! A wheelie?!?!?!?” Funny how often we get the adrenaline rush after an incident, eh? That proved to be my first real adrenaline rush on a bike outside the safety class (where they intentionally pushed us to our limits). It was definitely not my last. Funny how often after that, I'd get the rpms up a bit high, before letting the clutch out a bit fast, bringing the front wheel up a bit off the ground...

The second event involved the same motorcycle, and took place a year or two later. I was married by this time, and living in an apartment off base. You know how they say that most accidents take place within a mile or so of home? Wellll....

I was going to turn left off our little side street onto a major road/minor highway. This was one of those roads that had three lanes going in each direction and a grass median running down the middle. I was at the light, waiting to turn left, and facing me from across the intersection was a woman waiting to turn right. If you ride, you already know that this is a recipe for disaster just waiting to be popped into the oven.

My light turned green, and let me add that I had the protected left turn arrow, which means Cager Lady still had a red light. Well, once my turn was made, I would have had the choice of three different lanes. Since I would be making a right in a couple of miles, I headed for the right lane. I was halfway through my turn, already set into the appropriate lean angle, when Mrs. Killabiker decided to exercise her option to turn right on a red light. I increased my lean angle and aimed for the middle lane. She kept coming. Right. At. Me. I increased my lean angle again, while pressing my thumb on the horn button, where it stayed for the rest of the incident. At this point, I was in a really sharp lean, actually into the left of the three lanes, and guess what? Yup. Madame Oblivious kept on coming all the way over. Now I was out of lanes, there was no shoulder, only the median, but all I thought was “don't get hit, don't get hit”, so I leaned more. I felt my left footpeg scrape into the asphalt. I could hear my engine roaring ever louder, and then realized that I'd leaned over so far all the weight of the bike was on the front wheel and the left footpeg. The rear tire was no longer in contact with the pavement at all! It's all a bit blurry now, due to the adrenaline at the time and the twenty or so years that have passed, but I know the main frame of the bike went sideways, but luckily, somehow my death grip on the bars kept the front end pointed straight down the road. I started pushing downward with my right foot, trying to get the bike back up, but I just kept sliding down the road. Just as I thought “This is it. I'm going down”, suddenly, I was airborne! Luck was with me right then, because I came back down to earth with the engine still revving, and the bike pointed in exactly the right direction. I'd finally managed to push the rear tire back down, but I'd never let off the throttle, so that tire was spinning fast and hard. It slung the rest of the bike up and around and shot me down the road. Half a minute later, the full realization of what had just happened hit me and I hollered “Whooo Hooo!!!!” or something to that effect, inside my helmet. Later, I discovered ways to get my bike airborne intentionally. But, again, that's another story.

The point here is that these two incidents, whether I was conscious of it at the time or not, taught me that riding motorcycles provides a (somewhat) controlled adrenaline rush. They're fun. Yes, they're dangerous, and they're not for everybody, but the danger can be mitigated and somewhat controlled by skill and experience. Luckily at the time, I had enough youth and reflexes to overcome any lack of skill and experience.

Don't Judge My Book By Its Cover

Don't Judge My Book By Its Cover

by Worth Cadenhead on Monday, December 20, 2010 at 9:20am

I saw the way you looked over at me, you snug in your minivan with your wife and kids, me on my motorcycle, face exposed to the elements. You had that look that mixes fear with revulsion. I'm sure you've seen too many movies and bad TV shows and you have no idea who I am or what I do. You probably think of me as somebody who travels through life unencumbered with the trappings of "normal" life: steady job, family, children, and morals - somebody who doesn't bother with the concerns of others.You may see me as some drifter, wandering place to place, leaving wanton destruction in my wake. Again: Hollywood.
You don't know me, and all you see is what you consider a reckless and incomprehensible vehicle to be using in December.What you DON'T know is everything. See, all those entrapments of "normal life"? I have them, too. I've worked at the same job for thirteen years, and yes, I've been married twice, but it doesn't mean I love my son any less, or the daughter who's on her way to this world. You also don't know that my girlfriend and my son were in the car behind me.
Some assumptions you probably made are true. It's winter, so you couldn't know for sure because of my jacket, but yes, my arms are covered in tattoos. And yes, to be honest, there was a pistol in my pocket.
There was a specific reason I was exercising my Second Amendment right that day, and a specific reason my other half and my son were in the car behind me. Even a very specific reason I was riding, and not in a car with the heater on. See, we, along with my motorcycle club, delivered toys and food and a gift certificate for a grocery store to a family who otherwise would've spent Christmas with nothing to distinguish it from any other day, and maybe even not knowing if they'd have enough to eat the rest of the week. All the motorcycle clubs in Austin did the same thing for at least one family that day. I carried a weapon because the neighborhood wasn't exactly the safest and I wanted to make sure the gifts made it to those they were intended for. We rode, because the kids get excited when they hear the bikes from blocks away, then see us park in front of their house or apartment. My girlfriend and son were in the car partly because she's pregnant, but mainly because we needed the car to act as a stand-in for Santa's sleigh.
I helped share the true holiday spirit with complete strangers in true need this year. Like every year. What did you do? Buy your kid a new expensive updated version of the electronic toy you gave him last year?
Don't judge the book of my life by your opinion of its cover.

Mid-day Stress Relief April 15, 2010

Mid-day Stress Relief

If you ride, you'll understand this. If you don't, chances are you're just not going to get it.

So, anyway, I was all stressed, frustrated and frazzled at work today. I didn't even bother with my break, because I couldn't relax. Then, I got to where I couldn't focus on my work, either. So I went outside to walk around for a 15 minute break. As I was walking through the parking lot, there was my "other woman" - my bike. Out of instinct, out came the key, and I got on and fired 'er up. No helmet, no gear, nothing - just impulse. Just took off. Went around the parking lot of the shopping center for a minute or two, then said "Fuck it" and rode off into the street.

As I was thinking about turning around, on a sudden impulse I took a turn onto an almost invisible residential street. Within fifty yards, the busy street was out of sight and out of earshot. This was a residential street, but the houses were set way back from the road, with lots of trees and shrubs in the yards, so it was almost like a deserted country road right in town. It's been rainy recently, and there was this neat "swishy" sound coming from the wet road surface under my tires. I just rode this windy, tree lined, wet, peaceful street till it hit another busy street a couple miles away, then made a U turn and re-rode it.

Funny thing is, by the time I got back to work, all the stress was gone, and I was relaxed. I don't know why I've never done this before, but I can tell you I'll definitely be doing it again.

Instant gratification? Hell, yes!

(Originally written by Worth Cadenhead on Sunday, August 8, 2010)

So, yesterday as we were about to head out on our ride, a brother commented on the price of his bike. Not bragging; he just called it a $20,000 vibrator. I got to thinking about that later, and about all the crap bikes I've had over the years. I also thought about how I've never had a really good paying job; never finished a college education.
I started wondering if I'd done it all right. Maybe I should've buckled down and focused on that degree after I got out of the Navy. Maybe I should have deferred all the little enjoyments until later and I'd have been able to do them "bigger and better". Instead, I joined a motorcycle club not long after I got out of the Navy, and didn't pay much attention to studies. With no education, and no real marketable job skills (I was in intelligence in the military, which doesn't translate to much as a civilian), I wasn't exactly able to be choosy in my job choices, but I tried to be anyway - I only worked at jobs that had me at work day shifts Monday to Friday, leaving my nights and weekends free. Again, that lack of education left me with little pay if I wanted to limit the jobs I was wiling to accept. Little pay translated into eating cheaper food, drinking cheaper booze, smoking cheaper cigarettes (shouldn't have smoked at all, of course), and owning cheaper bikes and cars (when I've even had cars).
I look at people who really focused on their education, and on "getting their lives on track". Sure, they're able to have nicer things. Sometimes. But, sometimes, "the right time" just never comes along, does it? A lot of folks put that kind of thing off until "the right time" (whatever that is), only to never do it.
Even if the time comes, in their late 30s or so, and they buy that nice, high dollar bike (or boat, or RV, or whatever), here's the thing that finally occurred to me: While they were looking forward to their top of the line Gold Wing, Winnebago, yacht, etc.....I was RIDING my crappy bikes. I was doing what they were looking forward to. Sure, it wasn't in luxury, and sure, I had some lemons, but I also had brothers from other mothers and sisters from other misters who understood and helped and got helped along the way. So, does the yuppie who buys his $25,000 Harley Davidson have any more fun on it than I do on my $6000 Suzuki? No, I don't think so. Matter of fact, knowing where I stand, and where I've been, I may even enjoy it more. And I started it a long time ago, so I get to enjoy it longer.

So, I no longer have any regrets about "not doing the right thing" and deferring my enjoyment of life. I've had rough spots, but hell - that's where stories come from! I've spent a lot of time thinking that I was missing something, but the truth is, I've had a great Ride. And I'm gonna keep on riding. Come on and join me. If you've been putting off, stop waiting and start living.


So......we gonna Ride? Or are we gonna dick around all day?