I remember when my buddy David told me after my clutch failure that my slave cyl would fail soon after.
It finally failed!
I replaced it with an Evoluzione slave cylinder. VERY cool engineering and actually has everything in it to prevent the exact failure I had (which is apparently common).
Felt good to get out and ride a lot lately. I think I need to visit the Aufderheide again before the season is over :)
Saturday, October 01, 2011
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Every year gets more and more difficult.
Man. Every year gets harder for me. I remember when I first got into riding I was so enthusiastic. Then we lost Chris. I kept riding, it was hard. I remember at work I would talk to him in passing. He was the nicest guy on the planet and was new to riding. I was excited to teach him the ropes and go for a ride. He was excited too.
One day I get to work and it's just silent. Our president sent out a memorial email for him. His family made a website. Flyers went out. He died in a motorcycle crash. It was hard. At first, I was left with no emotion about it. I didn't know the guy to great extremes, I think it was a callous instinct kicking in.
I kept riding. I lost more friends. Over the years the tally adds up. I remember one kid in specific, Allen. He would be 18 a few days ago. He was 15 when he died in a motorcycle crash.
I remember the kid being so enthusiastic. He was so eager to learn. You could tell he was going to be a great rider. So much self preservation. A safe rider. Great kid and not a bitter bone in his body. Then out of nowhere.
I remember when my friend went down on the auferderheide. Right in front of me. I couldn't believe my eyes. I remember saying "FUCK" as he went off the road. So many things went through my mind - "Oh my god what if he's dead." "What will I do? We're in no where, with no cell service, what if he needs an ambulance." "This was a bad idea." "Shit!" and more "FUCK! NOT GOOD." Out of God's good grace... he got up. Shook himself off as I ran off my bike freaking out. He was okay. Bike banged up, but he was 100% fine. I was blown away. I thought I was going to lose another friend.
Every year more people die. I'm so sick of losing friends. Tonight, I was browsing through group rides on the 250 club and saw Allen's memorial day ride and his birthday was 2 days ago. I had forgot. I felt so bad. I couldn't handle it. For the first time in a very long time I broke down and cried over the whole ordeal. I suddenly remember all my friends who have died. People I've crossed paths with who aren't here. I cried. Even my wife was surprised, she came to talk to me.
Sometimes I don't know. I love riding. But what if next time it's me? What if some dumb bitch turns left in front of me and takes my life and my life affects others like these people affected mine.
Someday I will die. I understand this. Every time I get on my bike I realize I am amplifying that risk 100 fold. I sometimes wonder if it's selfish to do so. I love riding and it is addicting, but I realize it could take me from the ones I love in the blink of an eye. Sometimes I ask myself if it's really worth it. Yet I keep doing it.
I see my friends who have been riding since my age, they are great people. They love meeting riders. They are so selective of who they ride with. So callous to a degree. One day it sunk in. They've been riding that long? They are probably tired of dealing with death. It's hard. And you never know what will happen, there are no guarantees. I can't go on a ride and PROMISE myself or my wife I'll be back. Yet we both accept it. But every year I lose someone, it's that much harder.
I've slowed down so much. I ride like a grandpa. Justifiably so perhaps. Sometimes I wonder if I should put on the brakes and hang up the keys and just go enjoy my Porsches instead.
RIP to all my riding friends. Never forgotten. Always missed. Every year without you is another year I miss you. Those rides will never be the same.
One day I get to work and it's just silent. Our president sent out a memorial email for him. His family made a website. Flyers went out. He died in a motorcycle crash. It was hard. At first, I was left with no emotion about it. I didn't know the guy to great extremes, I think it was a callous instinct kicking in.
I kept riding. I lost more friends. Over the years the tally adds up. I remember one kid in specific, Allen. He would be 18 a few days ago. He was 15 when he died in a motorcycle crash.
I remember the kid being so enthusiastic. He was so eager to learn. You could tell he was going to be a great rider. So much self preservation. A safe rider. Great kid and not a bitter bone in his body. Then out of nowhere.
I remember when my friend went down on the auferderheide. Right in front of me. I couldn't believe my eyes. I remember saying "FUCK" as he went off the road. So many things went through my mind - "Oh my god what if he's dead." "What will I do? We're in no where, with no cell service, what if he needs an ambulance." "This was a bad idea." "Shit!" and more "FUCK! NOT GOOD." Out of God's good grace... he got up. Shook himself off as I ran off my bike freaking out. He was okay. Bike banged up, but he was 100% fine. I was blown away. I thought I was going to lose another friend.
Every year more people die. I'm so sick of losing friends. Tonight, I was browsing through group rides on the 250 club and saw Allen's memorial day ride and his birthday was 2 days ago. I had forgot. I felt so bad. I couldn't handle it. For the first time in a very long time I broke down and cried over the whole ordeal. I suddenly remember all my friends who have died. People I've crossed paths with who aren't here. I cried. Even my wife was surprised, she came to talk to me.
Sometimes I don't know. I love riding. But what if next time it's me? What if some dumb bitch turns left in front of me and takes my life and my life affects others like these people affected mine.
Someday I will die. I understand this. Every time I get on my bike I realize I am amplifying that risk 100 fold. I sometimes wonder if it's selfish to do so. I love riding and it is addicting, but I realize it could take me from the ones I love in the blink of an eye. Sometimes I ask myself if it's really worth it. Yet I keep doing it.
I see my friends who have been riding since my age, they are great people. They love meeting riders. They are so selective of who they ride with. So callous to a degree. One day it sunk in. They've been riding that long? They are probably tired of dealing with death. It's hard. And you never know what will happen, there are no guarantees. I can't go on a ride and PROMISE myself or my wife I'll be back. Yet we both accept it. But every year I lose someone, it's that much harder.
I've slowed down so much. I ride like a grandpa. Justifiably so perhaps. Sometimes I wonder if I should put on the brakes and hang up the keys and just go enjoy my Porsches instead.
RIP to all my riding friends. Never forgotten. Always missed. Every year without you is another year I miss you. Those rides will never be the same.
Thursday, April 08, 2010
Oh and the Ducati is back up.
I am not sure if I posted, but she's repaired and back on her feet after a massive repair.
Ride the fuck on.
I almost sold my bikes and bought a Porsche 930. Why? Because I'm sick of the stupid squids. I'm tired of the community falling apart. I am tired of being demotivated. I'm tired of watching every part of what I enjoyed about the motorcycle world going to shit.
When I first started riding I remember what it was like. My first few weeks were awkward. I eventually got comfy with things. Learned more. I went through my squid phase and thinking I was a badass. I had close calls, I eventually got wise and stopped riding like a bat out of hell when I almost ended up in a swather.
I remember riding with a bunch of ass hat retards who taught me bad habits. One day I'll never forget, I went to visit my wife at the time at work. I walked in and a guy that was about my dad's age saw me walk in with my gear on and said "Hey, you ride huh?" and we talked bikes.
He saw I was on a 250. At first, I was embarrassed, I thought, oh hell he's gonna think I'm an idiot. On the contrary he said I was smart for starting small, and invited me on a ride.
I remember the first ride I went on. The first real ride I went on. Here I am in a group of 3. My friend jeff, my buddy ken. Ken was riding his Ducati. I will never forget it, I couldn't even hear my own bike over his insane exhaust noise. It was the most heavenly noise I had ever heard. I remember looking at the bike, hearing the bike, riding with them and going "I'm going to get a Ducati."
It was also at that moment that I made the first damn good friends that I would make that really cared about riding. Ken and his wife, and my buddy jeff.
From that point on, I went on a lot of group rides. I soaked it in. I was a sponge. These guys were a pool of knowledge and I was so eager to get into learn more and more. I was so enthralled by riding, so excited, I started oo2w. I won't ever forget it, we had so many people. People joined from all over. Shared the same interests. People wanted to help each other learn. It was something that for the first time in my life I felt really really solid about, really good inside.
Over the years, I kept riding with my friends. I upgraded to a Ducati 900SS (which I still love) and I met a lot of great people.
Of the friends I've met. The friends I've lost. The friends I've kept. And those who have kept me.... Jeff, Karen and his wife stuck with me through the thick and thin. Like a second family.
Over the years it has declined, the community got smaller. The economy took a hit on our local legendary shops. Some moved to other states and cities. This year, one of my friend's local Ducati dealer is on it's way out the door in June. He is probably the best damn bike mechanic I've ever met. I've looked up to him so much. They're planning on moving, and I won't see them anymore.
My friend jeff stopped riding. More people quit. More shops close. It's come crashing down. Even bike forums are so empty. So desolate. And those that are active talk more about politics and bullshit, than about the sport.
Indeed. The community has changed. The vigor, so drained. The motivation, so low.
Today I spoke to a longterm friend I met. He married me and my last wife. He's always been there for me, always lent an ear and his words. He's quite the wild child, but has always been a good friend.
I said "I think I may wanna sell my bikes. Get a 930. I'm on the fence."
We talked and talked.... and talked some more. About my frustrations, my disappointment and he said:
"Some people ride because other people ride and then they quit. Others ride to be cool. Other people ride because they think it's not risky and they're good at it. But I ride because I just enjoy riding. Every time I leather up I do it because I enjoy it. I can invite as many people on a ride but I expect no one to show up, and that's fine. I will still always ride for myself."
I looked back. Thought about it hard. I remember the first time I got on my Kawasaki Enduro and blasted through the street on my 2 stroke. I remember harassing my neighbors with the crazy noise. Maxing it out to it's whopping 50mph. Doing it with a smile on my face. Going through the banks and ditches with it. Enjoying the open road and going "I'm gonna get a real bike." and got my 250. I will never forget those first days on my 250. Riding by myself on the road, out and about, road to myself. Those twisties, those canyon roads. It brings me to a place of peace and self consolation. There's something to be said about a man and his car and how he's a part of it. It's another to be part of your bike, and the feeling you get moving through the road. It's something that has become a part of me. It can never be replaced.
Indeed. I ride because I enjoy it. To my friend who brought me back to realizing that.... thank you.
As to those who just don't get it and don't care...
When I first started riding I remember what it was like. My first few weeks were awkward. I eventually got comfy with things. Learned more. I went through my squid phase and thinking I was a badass. I had close calls, I eventually got wise and stopped riding like a bat out of hell when I almost ended up in a swather.
I remember riding with a bunch of ass hat retards who taught me bad habits. One day I'll never forget, I went to visit my wife at the time at work. I walked in and a guy that was about my dad's age saw me walk in with my gear on and said "Hey, you ride huh?" and we talked bikes.
He saw I was on a 250. At first, I was embarrassed, I thought, oh hell he's gonna think I'm an idiot. On the contrary he said I was smart for starting small, and invited me on a ride.
I remember the first ride I went on. The first real ride I went on. Here I am in a group of 3. My friend jeff, my buddy ken. Ken was riding his Ducati. I will never forget it, I couldn't even hear my own bike over his insane exhaust noise. It was the most heavenly noise I had ever heard. I remember looking at the bike, hearing the bike, riding with them and going "I'm going to get a Ducati."
It was also at that moment that I made the first damn good friends that I would make that really cared about riding. Ken and his wife, and my buddy jeff.
From that point on, I went on a lot of group rides. I soaked it in. I was a sponge. These guys were a pool of knowledge and I was so eager to get into learn more and more. I was so enthralled by riding, so excited, I started oo2w. I won't ever forget it, we had so many people. People joined from all over. Shared the same interests. People wanted to help each other learn. It was something that for the first time in my life I felt really really solid about, really good inside.
Over the years, I kept riding with my friends. I upgraded to a Ducati 900SS (which I still love) and I met a lot of great people.
Of the friends I've met. The friends I've lost. The friends I've kept. And those who have kept me.... Jeff, Karen and his wife stuck with me through the thick and thin. Like a second family.
Over the years it has declined, the community got smaller. The economy took a hit on our local legendary shops. Some moved to other states and cities. This year, one of my friend's local Ducati dealer is on it's way out the door in June. He is probably the best damn bike mechanic I've ever met. I've looked up to him so much. They're planning on moving, and I won't see them anymore.
My friend jeff stopped riding. More people quit. More shops close. It's come crashing down. Even bike forums are so empty. So desolate. And those that are active talk more about politics and bullshit, than about the sport.
Indeed. The community has changed. The vigor, so drained. The motivation, so low.
Today I spoke to a longterm friend I met. He married me and my last wife. He's always been there for me, always lent an ear and his words. He's quite the wild child, but has always been a good friend.
I said "I think I may wanna sell my bikes. Get a 930. I'm on the fence."
We talked and talked.... and talked some more. About my frustrations, my disappointment and he said:
"Some people ride because other people ride and then they quit. Others ride to be cool. Other people ride because they think it's not risky and they're good at it. But I ride because I just enjoy riding. Every time I leather up I do it because I enjoy it. I can invite as many people on a ride but I expect no one to show up, and that's fine. I will still always ride for myself."
I looked back. Thought about it hard. I remember the first time I got on my Kawasaki Enduro and blasted through the street on my 2 stroke. I remember harassing my neighbors with the crazy noise. Maxing it out to it's whopping 50mph. Doing it with a smile on my face. Going through the banks and ditches with it. Enjoying the open road and going "I'm gonna get a real bike." and got my 250. I will never forget those first days on my 250. Riding by myself on the road, out and about, road to myself. Those twisties, those canyon roads. It brings me to a place of peace and self consolation. There's something to be said about a man and his car and how he's a part of it. It's another to be part of your bike, and the feeling you get moving through the road. It's something that has become a part of me. It can never be replaced.
Indeed. I ride because I enjoy it. To my friend who brought me back to realizing that.... thank you.
As to those who just don't get it and don't care...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Damnit, Ducati!
On vacation, i noticed towards the end of the ride I was feeling a bit of a power slag. I figured hey i'm on a dusty road, probably clogging up the air filter, no whoop i'll clean it when i get home.
So i'm cleaning the porsche and rebuilding and refinishing the axle and forgot some stuff. I thought "Well hell, the 250 is behind the car, can't move it, guess i'll suit up and take the ducati." I go get the car parts, take off from a light at the way back and when going into second the clutch lever suddenly was frozen.
After gripping it with the strength of 10,000 nerds, finally a tiny squeeze and hint of clutch was there and i limped it home, only using the clutch if i had to, as it was slipping if i grabbed it.
After inspecting the issue, apparently the vast majority of the clutch hub bearings went out and were chewed up into duck crisp cereal, part of a ducati dry clutch well balanced breakfast. Wonderful hints of metallic glitter all over my pressure plate, and chewed up teeth. What a fabulous sight for sore eyes.
Needless to say, I'm disheartened and frustrated at such a huge failure as this is going to not only be costly, but has decreased my confidence in Ducati parts. The bike has less than 17k miles, and is now sitting with a wonderful clutch failure.
Ducati, I'm disappointed.
So i'm cleaning the porsche and rebuilding and refinishing the axle and forgot some stuff. I thought "Well hell, the 250 is behind the car, can't move it, guess i'll suit up and take the ducati." I go get the car parts, take off from a light at the way back and when going into second the clutch lever suddenly was frozen.
After gripping it with the strength of 10,000 nerds, finally a tiny squeeze and hint of clutch was there and i limped it home, only using the clutch if i had to, as it was slipping if i grabbed it.
After inspecting the issue, apparently the vast majority of the clutch hub bearings went out and were chewed up into duck crisp cereal, part of a ducati dry clutch well balanced breakfast. Wonderful hints of metallic glitter all over my pressure plate, and chewed up teeth. What a fabulous sight for sore eyes.
Needless to say, I'm disheartened and frustrated at such a huge failure as this is going to not only be costly, but has decreased my confidence in Ducati parts. The bike has less than 17k miles, and is now sitting with a wonderful clutch failure.
Ducati, I'm disappointed.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
How do you explain how it changes...
I remember when I first started riding. I thought I was fast. I wanted to be fast.
I wanted to impress people. I wanted to be expert. I tried and tried to become so good at it, and do it so fast, and started learning and my friends would say "You're getting so fast! You're getting there!"
Years pass. I've been riding now since I was 18. Since I got my 250.
With miles under the belt and lots of roads ridden, time after time... I find myself slowing down. How is this? Perhaps it's part of growing up and maturing. Perhaps it was the freaky close call with a swather when i was 18. Perhaps it was the lady who almost side swiped me. Perhaps it was the time I almost hurt myself going too fast.
No. It wasn't the close calls.
There's something else....
I wanted to post this with the information first about what I learned, and my vacation next. You see, I went on vacation with all my friends. We usually do it once a year, I missed it last year. But this year was different. This year I spent most my summer riding on my own. Pushing my bike a bit more to where I felt comfortable and getting used to the Ducati more. As I got there I found myself surrounded by all my old friends becoming NEW riders, looking up to me, asking me for advice and I realized that I had slowly become a rider that stopped worrying about being fast, and worrying about being just overall a good rider.
And a good rider doesn't mean fast... but it means safe. Self preserving. Preserving of other riders. Giving safe (sane) advice, and wanting to see other riders enjoy the experience.
This whole time as I grew up I just wanted to be fast. Then I found myself surrounded by an entire COMMUNITY. A family, if you will... of riders, people who share something in common. yes it's dangerous, yes sometimes it's even crazy, and the cagers are all out to get us, but the important thing is that many riders stick together. And the friends you meet and the people you meet and the experience and lifestyle behind it is all it's own. I found myself sitting down at this campfire on vacation and going "Wow.. you know.. I know these guys, most of them, but only know maybe FIVE really well, and out of those I can guarantee they'd be there for me on a spot. I can trust them. Ride with them. Enjoy their friendship. It feels like more than just riding buddies, it's like a family. And we all just enjoy the pace, the experience, our company and more."
Suddenly I took a step back after speaking with one of my good friends after a crash we had, and new things started blowing my mind in perspective.
It does not matter how fast you are on the street. At the end of the day you're still on 2 wheels. At the end of the day you're still riding with friends. And at the end of the day if you spend the ride riding a pace that belongs where it should, you'll live to ride another day. The experience itself can last a long time, or a lifetime (granted a cager doesn't take you out). I've learned to slow down and savor the ride, enjoy it and learn to be a smoother, safer, better rider (doesn't mean you can't have fun).
It was interesting to see my attitude looking back in time. And looking to myself of who I am now. And how much I've grown into riding, the miles I've logged. The roads I've hit. And the places I've gone.
The best part is not the miles I've logged, but the people I've had the pleasure of following, leading, and enjoying the ride with along the way. I guess then it's safe to say that riding is a life experience that you cannot explain to someone else. This is why we say "If I had to explain it, you wouldn't understand." and therefore is easier to explain that riders enjoy the company because in a way, sharing the life experience of riding with others, is like sharing the road of life with those that are the kindred spirit of riding.
At least that's my $.02. Perhaps it sounds cheesy, perhaps it sounds touchy feely and emotional. But it is. And I'm fine with saying it.
I wanted to impress people. I wanted to be expert. I tried and tried to become so good at it, and do it so fast, and started learning and my friends would say "You're getting so fast! You're getting there!"
Years pass. I've been riding now since I was 18. Since I got my 250.
With miles under the belt and lots of roads ridden, time after time... I find myself slowing down. How is this? Perhaps it's part of growing up and maturing. Perhaps it was the freaky close call with a swather when i was 18. Perhaps it was the lady who almost side swiped me. Perhaps it was the time I almost hurt myself going too fast.
No. It wasn't the close calls.
There's something else....
I wanted to post this with the information first about what I learned, and my vacation next. You see, I went on vacation with all my friends. We usually do it once a year, I missed it last year. But this year was different. This year I spent most my summer riding on my own. Pushing my bike a bit more to where I felt comfortable and getting used to the Ducati more. As I got there I found myself surrounded by all my old friends becoming NEW riders, looking up to me, asking me for advice and I realized that I had slowly become a rider that stopped worrying about being fast, and worrying about being just overall a good rider.
And a good rider doesn't mean fast... but it means safe. Self preserving. Preserving of other riders. Giving safe (sane) advice, and wanting to see other riders enjoy the experience.
This whole time as I grew up I just wanted to be fast. Then I found myself surrounded by an entire COMMUNITY. A family, if you will... of riders, people who share something in common. yes it's dangerous, yes sometimes it's even crazy, and the cagers are all out to get us, but the important thing is that many riders stick together. And the friends you meet and the people you meet and the experience and lifestyle behind it is all it's own. I found myself sitting down at this campfire on vacation and going "Wow.. you know.. I know these guys, most of them, but only know maybe FIVE really well, and out of those I can guarantee they'd be there for me on a spot. I can trust them. Ride with them. Enjoy their friendship. It feels like more than just riding buddies, it's like a family. And we all just enjoy the pace, the experience, our company and more."
Suddenly I took a step back after speaking with one of my good friends after a crash we had, and new things started blowing my mind in perspective.
It does not matter how fast you are on the street. At the end of the day you're still on 2 wheels. At the end of the day you're still riding with friends. And at the end of the day if you spend the ride riding a pace that belongs where it should, you'll live to ride another day. The experience itself can last a long time, or a lifetime (granted a cager doesn't take you out). I've learned to slow down and savor the ride, enjoy it and learn to be a smoother, safer, better rider (doesn't mean you can't have fun).
It was interesting to see my attitude looking back in time. And looking to myself of who I am now. And how much I've grown into riding, the miles I've logged. The roads I've hit. And the places I've gone.
The best part is not the miles I've logged, but the people I've had the pleasure of following, leading, and enjoying the ride with along the way. I guess then it's safe to say that riding is a life experience that you cannot explain to someone else. This is why we say "If I had to explain it, you wouldn't understand." and therefore is easier to explain that riders enjoy the company because in a way, sharing the life experience of riding with others, is like sharing the road of life with those that are the kindred spirit of riding.
At least that's my $.02. Perhaps it sounds cheesy, perhaps it sounds touchy feely and emotional. But it is. And I'm fine with saying it.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Knees - Ouch.
Well, it's getting to the point where riding is pretty painful. Even if i work out. Even if i stretch. Even if i take it easy, my knees kill me. I guess all those years of street skating and snowboarding and skateboarding took their toll :-/ bit of a bummer, i'm only 23, gonna be 24 next month and I feel like I have the knees of an 80 year old man. Hindsight is 20/20 - kids, if your dad ever says "You're gonna kill your knees doing those sports" and the doctor even says "Son, you're gonna kill your knees." It's probably true.
Got to ride to work today and after that it's mostly painful to walk around. Thank god I work at a desk.
Kind of a bummer, years down the road i'll be saying "I've beenr riding for x years." and be in pain the whole time i do it. Oh well, the things we do and love.
On a positive side i think i must have done the wave almost 20 times on the way to work, TONS of bikes out today, BEAUTIFUL day. My coworker is looking to get a bike, 250 ninja, smart man to start out small like that.
Got to ride to work today and after that it's mostly painful to walk around. Thank god I work at a desk.
Kind of a bummer, years down the road i'll be saying "I've beenr riding for x years." and be in pain the whole time i do it. Oh well, the things we do and love.
On a positive side i think i must have done the wave almost 20 times on the way to work, TONS of bikes out today, BEAUTIFUL day. My coworker is looking to get a bike, 250 ninja, smart man to start out small like that.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Ah sweet sweet riding.
So at a local car club, I met a fellow and we got talking cars. We talked a bit about his GTR and then got talking bikes, found out the guy rode.
Well, we end up planning a ride and headed out on my favorite nameless road. He brought his cruiser along and was keeping right up at a decent pace. Had a lot of fun.
All in all the GPS said about 100 miles. Great ride for the day, not bad at all and my god did it feel good to get out. I get home and my knees hurt, arms hurt, legs hurt, back hurts... it's that great hurt like "OW my freaking BODY, that was awesome!" kind of feelings you get when you just had a blast.
Well, we end up planning a ride and headed out on my favorite nameless road. He brought his cruiser along and was keeping right up at a decent pace. Had a lot of fun.
All in all the GPS said about 100 miles. Great ride for the day, not bad at all and my god did it feel good to get out. I get home and my knees hurt, arms hurt, legs hurt, back hurts... it's that great hurt like "OW my freaking BODY, that was awesome!" kind of feelings you get when you just had a blast.
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