motorcycle
Pictures worth words
It’s funny how very often the more words a picture’s worth the less the quality matters. By the way, that’s a motorcycle designed for agricultural use in the Australian outback. I love the sound of that exactly as much as I have no idea what it really means. And I have absolutely no idea.
Forgetfulness
Sometimes I forget that for work I get to ride a dirtbike around on a crazy old rocky highway through mountains between towns to hang out with poor kids and give them school supplies. Did I mention that’s actually for work?
There’s always stuff to whine about here, but for now I settle for beer with my crackers and cheese.
And it just so happens that there’s a store just down the street that sells Guatemalan beer and Guatemalan corn chips. Not good old crackers and cheese, but close enough and maybe better really.
And yes, when Profe Jorge and I ride around on the motorcycle we do sorta look like a couple of Mormons. They call us milk and chocolate.
Motorcycles
Motorcycle wrenching fun, motorcycle flying fun, motorcycle from here to there and back fun
The best motorcycle for the one is the worst motorcycle for the other is the alright motorcycle for the other.
Cliché solution #1: the best motorcycle is the one that you are riding
Cliché solution #2: the best motorcycle is the one that makes you think about God
XR-750
This is the best thing that has shown up in my Google Reader feed; ever.
Quick, somebody fetch me a lot of money and a plane ticket to the UK. And starter rollers too, please–preferably in white and red.
The power to weight ratio is close to that of a new GSX-R600. One’s 0.29, the other is 0.35. Guess which is which.
http://sideburnmag.blogspot.com/2011/04/xr750-for-sale-on-uk-ebay.html
Perma-grin
I just did a lap around town on a ’77 Yamaha 200cc oil-burning eardrum-buster. Perma-grin.
I was born into the wrong decade. Or I’ve totally misread my calling and I actually need to fix up and ride around old motorcycles. I’m going with the latter, since it gives me an excuse to daydream about ditching everything to fix up and ride around old motorcycles.
And…just for good measure, because I’ve never put a video in a post before…one of the best movies. Ever.
Three highways
Holy crap.
I can’t remember the last time I said or wrote that, and I am so serious about it I’ll say it again. Holy crap..so much fun :D
Pertinent facts:
’82 Suzuki 750
3 highways
one awesome motorcycle shop along the side of one of the 3 highways
a (much needed) pair of earplugs, a (also much needed) twinkie and bike talk with the two resident motorheads at the above mentioned shop
one quart of oil (which I didn’t know I very badly needed until I was pulling out of the above mentioned shop and the oil light flickered twice; I almost ignored it, too. That would’ve been really, really really dumb)
hundreds of miles
sun-warmed post-rainstorm air that smelled fresh and honey-sweet during a stretch of highway through fields and woods
a cup of coffee and a strawberry bear claw on the way home, from a great small town bakery with an awesome “won’t close till the pastries are pretty much gone” policy
“Just along down the way, there is a place where no plow blade has turned the ground”
-40 Acres, by Caedmon’s Call
On that note, only very tangentially related, here’s a cool picture:
Recently
Nikon D200, Zeiss Planar T 50/1.4
The motorcycle wave
If you get it, you get it.
