September 22, 2007
Motorcycle Education
Readers of this blog (all 2 of you) know that one of specialties is offering motorcycling tips to the interwebs connected community. In that spirit, I offer the first of a series of brief educational videos: How to Ride With a Passenger.
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September 20, 2007
Ducati Nerddom
This weekend past was the Sandia Classic. I missed it again.
Also, on Saturday, I noticed on eBay a Ducati F1B much like the one that ended up selling for more than I was willing to spend. This one was listed in Belen, about 50 miles south of Albuquerque. I placed a bid for it that was quickly and automatically superseded, and sent an email to the fellow selling the bike whether it would be possible to take a look. After a brief phone call we arranged for me to take a look at the bike(s) (a 250 single racebike was also listed).
The ride to Belen was uneventful. I would have taken NM 47, but I did not want to keep the seller waiting. I planned on returning through Abo and Mountainair in order to have at least some fun in the twisties.
The seller had four Ducati's and a 50's Chevy pickup in his immaculate garage. Outside, a race trailer had a large Ducati logo on it. The Ducatis inside were
- A 999 racebike (on the lift)
- The 250 racebike in Paul Smart livery
- The Ducati F1B
- A 900 Supersport
The Supersport is a "project bike". It is one of those bikes that appears stock at first until you really pay attention to it and notice all the goodies. The PO wasn't too careful about tightening things down however.
The F1B was immaculate. By the time this post goes up, it will likely have sold for more than I can afford. In any case, I can afford to bid somewhat more for this bike than the previous one since I can literally ride this one home. Should I be so lucky. One of the nice things about it is that it comes with both stock mufflers as well as a Bub exhaust (installed).
We chatted about Ducati's for what seemed like hours. As Jerry Seinfeld put it in "Comedian," everyone needs to have one really stupid hobby. By that I think he means that everyone needs to validate the myth that there is some socially redeeming quality to our passions. In the instant case, the common ground was discussing the weakness of Ducati clutch slave cylinders and aftermarket alternatives. Also remarkable is that despite the seller's age and experience, he has never owned any motorcycles besides Ducati's.
Turns out that the seller took a bad spill at Sandia racetrack, when a passing motorcyclist took out the rider in front of him. The bike had some pretty severe damage. Though the frame sliders did what they could, the bodywork was thrashed and his 2000 dollar leathers had to be cut off of him. The damage to person, leathers, and bike might explain why he is cashing in on his fleet. Also, his long-term prognosis as a rider is not yet clear. Certainly, four bikes (two streetable) seems a little excessive.
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Little Heartbreak
The F1 sold for just a little bit more than I was willing to pay. If it is meant to be that I have one, I will just have to be patient.
But still.
Posted by Underblog at 12:21 PM | TrackBack
September 14, 2007
Errand King
A Friday off is ideal for errands. This morning, I pulled off a trifecta: I picked up the dog's special food at the vet, exchanged a concrete fountain base at the fountain shop, and dropped off the two front doors (solid wood) from the old casita.
I then returned and found shortly thereafter that I had sold yet another book (catharsis for graduate school suffering) through Amazon. I then took the book to the post office and sent it off and went to REI to spend the last of our chit on a water-sterilizing pen.
I have already earned my cerveza tonight, but I have a fountain to assemble!
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September 13, 2007
It Wasn't Really Funny
I went for another ride with my workpal. She rides an 883 Sportster, which she bought as a first bike last year. We decided to ride the Jemez Loop, through the Pueblo, through Jemez Springs, past the hot springs and Soda Falls, along the Valles Caldera, and through a bit of Sandia National Labs and Bandelier National Monument.
There are some excellent twisties up there, especially in the portion where it was raining last time I rode there. The best part is between NM 126 and the NM 4 / NM 501 split; this is past the Valles Caldera and a small portion of Bandelier. At the end of the twisties are two rather severe hairpin turns. My friend and erstwhile riding companion Kent always used the 2x rule: Where the sign has the curve sign and a recommended speed, double it for a safe entry speed. My exception to this rule is when the sign says 15 or less. There is no way I am going to enter that turn at 30.
On the stretch from Jemez Springs to NM 126, someone with long blond hair trailing from under their helmet was keeping up with me in the twisties, never passing though I gave them plenty of lane and reduced my speed so they could do so.
I pulled over at NM 126 and let my friend pull up on her Harley. I explained to her that the next segment was a LOT of fun. I might pass a few cars along the way, and she should feel no obligation to keep up with me or anyone else. Sure enough, I passed several cars and a group of motorcyclists. One of the bikes was a light green BMW with saddlebags. The fellow on the BMW decided to carve up some twisties with me. As with the blond on the suzuyaka before, I gave them plenty of room and time to pass with no luck. Anyway, each time I had time to check my mirrors, the BMW's headlight was there.
As I mentioned above, there are several hairpins toward the intersection with NM 501. Once I navigated my way through them, I came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, where NM 4 continues east and NM 501 goes to Los Alamos. The gravel shoulder did not allow me to put the bike on the stand so I straddled the 851. A few minutes later, a car pulls over and the driver says "You were riding with that BMW back there, right?" I responded that I was not, and that he just happened to be riding behind me. "Oh, well, he wiped out back at the top of the hill." I considered going back to see if he was OK, but then another car came by. "Weren't you riding with that BMW? He took a spill back up the road."
A few cars later, my friend arrived. I asked her if she had seen the BMW. "Yeah, his bike was off to the side of the road and he was crouching in the bushes. I thought he might be picking berries." "Was it at the hairpin turns coming down the hill?" I asked. "Naw, it was way up at the top of the hill. I thought his bike was pointing in a weird direction."
There were some people with whom I would ride in California, they would consistently either crash or have a mechanical failure on the ride. Never a fun experience to ride back up the road and find a compatriot's bike down and a friend in need of a lift (or —worse—an ambulance) back to town. But from all accounts the fellow seemed OK. I hope that he was either stretching his back or picking up the contents from his saddlebags from the roadway and shoulder.
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September 9, 2007
Letting Go
Yesterday, I had a goal of returning the Miata to its place in the garage. I wonder now at the wisdom of that goal, since now I must reshuffle the entire fleet in order to roll out any motorcycle save the tiny Trail 90.
At any rate, contained in the garage were three matched pieces of furniture: a dresser and two bookshelves, made of pine in a walnut stain. These pieces (the drawer of a second dresser fell apart last year and a third (last we saw) took up residence at my sister's house by the University) have followed us from Healdsburg to Nutglade to Takoma Park to Saint Paul to Albuquerque. Before that, they had followed me from apartment to apartment to apartment in San Francisco. Before that, belonged to my mom and they had followed her from Bethesda to Palo Alto. I am fairly certain that they were purchased before my birth when the family lived in Lexington, MA.
The dressers became surplus when we bought the Monster Sideboard from India. But they took nicely to the Casita Vieja. They looked a mite too worn for the Casita Nueva. And so to Goodwill they went. I reckon that someone will find them and get many more years of service from them.