Want.

I recently was out and about on my little CL350 with a bunch of friends, when one of them had a mishap, and dropped her bike in a parking lot.  No biggie.  It happens to all of us.  However, the clutch lever was completely bent, and when I tried to bend it back so that she could ride home, it snapped right off.  So, I got my truck, hauled it to my garage, and fixed it with a new part.  Easy.  10 minutes.

Anyway, before I handed it back to her, I wanted to test ride it to make sure the clutch lever was just right.  Did I mention that it's a brand new Triumph Bonneville?

I have never ridden a bike newer than 1983.  Ever.  30 years makes a LOT of difference.  Fuel injection, ABS, and SO MUCH MORE POWER!  I've had a few CB750s in my day, and this was only 115ccs more, so you wouldn't think it would make a huge difference.  It does.  I'm in love.

As a matter of fact, after I wrote that last sentence, I grabbed my gear and took it out again on my favorite little test track behind the fairgrounds, a couple blocks away.  I didn't want to push it, since it's not my bike, so I only did 90.  (Don't tell Stevi.)  Probably should have brought a helmet.

(Edit:  I totally lied.  I forgot that I rode my old boss's 883 Sportster.  It was a '96, I think.  Hated it.  Gave me a fucking hemorrhoid.  Fucking shitty Harleys.)

(Double edit: Dude.  It has twin Keihin carbs?  I was so wrong.  How awesome is that?)

I digress.  The point of this whole thing is that modern bikes are SO UGLY.  Triumph (and possibly HD, but I hate them) is the only manufacturer that's figured out that they can modernize their classic models, and people will flock to them like crazy!  Hello, Honda?  How can you not recognize that?

AND, these original, 1970's flat-seat standards are CRAZY popular right now.  I have so many theories about it, including urbanization and reverse white flight, but the point is that for someone like me, who LOVES the vintage style, but is a little tired of having to spend a weekend a month tuning up their bikes.

AND, AND, why isn't there a decent budget option?  $8500 is the STARTING price for a new bike.  That's ridiculous.  A brand new Bonneville in 1967 would be the equivalent of about $4000 today.  I get that it's a lot more bike, so I'd say $6500 would be fair.  But just shy of a tenner?  Damn.  A kid is supposed to be able to save his summer job money and buy one.  Boo.

Genuine Scooters had the answer 10 years ago.  Buy the old molds from a company like Vespa, make a few updates and start re-manufacturing them.  People bought them like wildfire.  Again, hello, Honda?  Manufacture CB-350s, CB750s, 550-4s.  WE FUCKING WANT THEM!  BLAH!

The Bikes of Yesteryear

I got to thinking about how many bikes I've owned over the years, and it's not as many as I wish I could brag about.  10, maybe?  Let's find out:

• 1985 Suzuki 400
• 1981 Honda CB750
• 1983 Honda CB750
• 1974 Honda CB450
• 1973 Honda CL350
• 1971 Honda CL175
• 2003 Genuine Stella
• 2008 Genuine Stella
• 1979 Yamaha XS650
• 1964 Lambretta Li175
• 1981 Vespa 150 (for a week)
• 1967 BSA A50

I'm probably forgetting one somewhere, but it's a pretty good list.  Respectable.  That's twelve, if you count the Vespa.  And I did own a pretty sweet '67 Firebird 400 for a few years, so that's not too shabby.

Most impressive is obviously the BSA, followed by the Lambretta (for sale) and then a tie between the CB450 and the CL350.  Both stock, beautiful shape.

I did get to spend the evening cleaning my garage, which is long overdue, but it's starting to become a good work space again.  And, it's always a struggle to find a balance between working/paying for the house and the bikes.  Bleh.

Brass Accents

Holy hell!  Someone did this Ural pretty damn close to where I'm headed.  I'm going to study it a while:

http://imgur.com/a/C03OL

The Rider Pegs Stay

It's been a while since I checked in with Cliff, the fella I was planning to work on the tank with, and admittedly, it's all my fault.  However, when you leave a high paying job for one with the city, you get gain a lot of satisfaction, but not as much extra cash.  Add that to a pricey divorce, and you're left with a tight budget and no furniture.

So, as I'm waiting to hear how much I owe on taxes, living from paycheck to paycheck at the moment, hoping to afford the new carburettor next week, the one thing I can do is research.  Weirdly, the more I look into the new cafe bikes, the more I see the brat bike making a huge push.

Originally, I intended to make the BSA a single-seat cafe racer, but now that I've been dropped back into the dating pool, I'm going to have to say that I want this bike to be able to carry a cute girl on the back.  That means a 2-seater butt cushion and rider pegs.

What does that mean for the overall design?  Well, I'm going to have to figure out a new solution for the battery box, since it's not going to be hidden in the tail hump anymore.  The old version is a piece of shit that used to hang on the outside of the frame, under the ugly side cover.  Bad design.

I love the original oil tank - very sexy.  However, I'll need another consult with Cliff, because it seems that it might now be necessary to build a custom oil/battery combo unit to keep the bike clean and sexy.  It's a labor of love, and it's going to take as long as necessary.  (I have to keep telling myself that.)

Greasy Ol' Gearheads

 
Mark and I got moving on the motor this week, and it seems that when the weather gets nice, his buddies like to come over to the garage, hang out with their bikes and drink beer.  Then we work on motors for a while, have another beer, tell dirty jokes.  If, in 15 years, I'm having half the fun that these fellas are, than I know I doing something right.

As for the motor, we took it apart and put it back together about 4 or 5 times, getting it set up perfectly.

The rods are in, the pistons are in the bath, and Mark says it should be done by the end of the week, if we work hard and stay on task.  In my opinion, I don't care if it takes another 6 months, if I get to have this much fun, hanging out in a garage, working on bikes with a bunch of grizzly bastards, eating pork rinds and drinking cheap beer.

2/1000ths

So, after all that nonsense with the crank, we figured that it was so out of whack that I was just going to have to break down and get a new one.  The couple hundred bucks that I'd spent on machining this one was just a cost I'd have to eat.  Oh well, shit happens.  Hello, eBay.

Then, on Thursday evening, as I'm enjoying a steak dinner, I get a call from Mark, telling me that his machinist buddy was with him at the shop, having a couple beers and he took a look at my crank, just to show him how boogered up it was.  They decided to mess with it, and sure enough, after 6 months of delays and feet dragging with the damn thing, they had it together with perfect tolerances in no time.  Turns out, it was just shitty machine work from Quinlan.

Awesome.  Best way to round up a great birthday week (and an half).

Cranked Off

After all that work to get the crank machined, and dealing with the colossal assholes at Quinlan, it turns out that my crank is bent, and I'll have to purchase a new one.  Hundreds of dollars down the tube, and we're fairly certain that it was dropped (possibly intentionally) by the assholes at the machine shop...but I'm getting ahead of myself.

After a crummy hiatus, I was finally able to rustle up some time to get back over to Mark's shop and dive back into the motor.  It was great to finally feel back on track, and the awesome BSA parts were all spread out to see.

Now, the bad news.  We apparently overlooked the obvious, and decided to put the crank on the lathe, to see if it was true.  It wasn't.  Basically, that means that all the money and irritation I had to deal with, with the old one is gone forever.  I need a new crank.  Bollocks.

Luckily, a crank from an A50 is the same as one from an A65, and they're in abundance, so it looks like it's time to hit eBay and the swap meets.  Mark's making a few calls, and I'm doing my research, so hopefully, we can get this worked out within the month, but don't hold your breath.