Monday, March 30, 2009

Riding to Nowhere

video Ever had the sudden urge to go nowhere..I had one of those weeks..tough work and good company..Nine days on the road..long days and wonderful nights..Moving houses from hell and dealing with the youngsters with checkbooks..Lemon cream pie and Dos XX's..A 36 hour work day..and a short nap..A Shovelhead in the driveway and nowhere to go..

Now a ride to nowhere always puts you somewhere. Maybe you know where somewhere is and maybe you don't..It is all about riding, clearing the mind, places have no meaning only other than that's where you went. Today's nowhere was a left turn at the crossroads..Fruit tree's and Oranges tree's..follow the path less traveled..no people only the winds and the pipes to sooth the mind..Long straights to hammer and one lane twisty s to play..Slow country roads to enjoy..What starts out as a short ride ends up after the sun goes down..The bodies worn but the mind is fresh..problems are solved..My Sunshine is still my Sunshine..life is good...Someday we will travel the road to nowhere together...

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

a few old a few new (maybe) Harley Jokes

Did you know 95% of all Harleys are still on the road? 
The other 5% actually made it home. 

How do you get 150hp from a Harley? 
Trade it in on a Suzuki. 

What’s the handgrip on the right handlebar of a Harley for? 
It’s the volume control. 

Why don’t Harley riders sit on their bikes when the sidestands are down? 
They’re afraid to lean over that far. 

What’s the difference between a Harley and a Harley owner’s home? 
The Harley costs more but only has two wheels. 

Is it true that Harleys are chick magnets? 
Yes, but only if the chick has a steel plate in her head. 

What has an IQ of 87, eleven teeth, wears a 36DDD brassiere and no panties? 
The barmaid everyone calls "Magnet". 

How can you tell what kind of motorcycle is ahead of you? 
If gets passed by a Vespa on a freeway exit ramp, it’s a Harley. 

What do you call a group of Harley Owners with a collective IQ of 140? 
Sturgis! 

How is a Harley Davidson like an old dog? 
They both like to ride in the back of pickup trucks. 

Why don’t Harley riders wave at sportbike riders? 
They don’t want to drop their tools. 

Why do Harleys have fringe? 
So you can tell if they're moving. 

How do you know the hot-rod parts you bought for your Harley are working? 
You can finally beat your neighbor’s Camry in a drag race. 

How do Harley engineers tell if a bike is worthy of the Harley name? 
They check to make sure the exhaust noise in decibels exceeds the horsepower rating. 

Why don't Harley riders smile? 
If you got conned into paying $25,000 for an underpowered, obsolete piece of $#!+ you wouldn’t be smiling either. 

What's the difference between a Harley Davidson and a vacuum cleaner? 
The location of the dirt bag. 

Which Harley models belong in the new Harley museum? 
All of them. 

How do you know your Harley is handling great? 
You can almost keep up with the bicycles on the canyon roads. 

What is the difference between a Harley Davidson and an old dog? 
The dog can get in the back of the pickup under its own power. 

What’s the difference between a Harley ridden to Sturgis and one that’s trailered there? 
The one on the trailer goes about 30mph faster. 

Why couldn’t the Harley mechanic repair the doorknob? 
Some things can’t be fixed with just a hammer and a rope. 

Where can you find the largest collection of Harley jokes in the world? 
On the showroom of the Harley mega-store in Milwaukee 

Why do Harley owners love chrome? 
Makes the parts easier to find when they fall off. 


You know you’re a Harley rider if… 

…you’re unable to let your bike simply IDLE at a stop light. 

…you confuse the word "character" with the more accurate term "engineering flaws. 

…"water cooled" means standing on the side of the road, in the rain, waiting for a friend with a pickup truck. 

SPORTSTER 

Sits 
Patiently 
On 
Roadside 
Till 
Son and 
Truck 
Eagerly 
Return

In Memory of Danny Shlingloff

Rolled in from a great birthday party last night,,I want more cake..Did my in house stuff and walked out to check the mail..Danny's son came walking down the street, walked up and reached out his hand then gave me a bike hug..Danny passed away this morning..damn..

I meet Danny ten years or so ago..He bought a place down the street from me. Didn't pay much attention at first, then one Saturday morning I see him kicking and cussing an old Ironhead chopped sporty..Old Schooler ride and it ain't playing the game..I walked down to see what was up..I meet Danny that day..He was trying to start the bike so he could sell it..back was bad and kicking it hurt like hell..I still remember his words..Me and her been through the shit, twenty years I have rode her..I can't do it anymore and looking at her just sitting here makes me sick..I hate to do it but I have to for me and for her..We spent the best part of Saturday morning starting the bike and joking and smoking..

Over the years we became friends..he loved bikes and road stories..anytime I was working in the shop and would fire up a bike he would wonder over and pull up a chair..don't think I ever saw him without a beer in one hand and a smoke in the other..

Life had been tough the last few months..back and knee surgeries..being down is hard for one who didn't know the meaning..takes your spirit away he told me a few weeks back..Your free now my friend,,ride the wind..I will miss ya..

Monday, March 23, 2009

hey tat!!!! - Happy Birthday!!!!



almost baked you a cake
this'll hafta do

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

My First Harley

Sometime in 1969 I lost two cousins in the war..One died on the spot the other lived ten years after..Willie died on the spot, Charles lost a leg and the will to live. Willie had an old Panhead he was building when the draft caught him in the spring of life. I was handed the keys, they were in on of the boxes in the summer of 1975..not yet 15 years old..

Blown away but clueless where to start I bought a shop manual..Knew a ton of local and riders through the family..Charles when I could pull him out of his drug and whiskey funk was my guide..I worked and I worked to buy parts..gaskets, seals, tires..Stopped reading school books and started memorizing Easyriders and shop manuals..It was a little over a year before me and Charlie turned the last bolt..I was the proud owner of a 1964 Pan..

Dad didn't say much, I'm sure he knew I was learning more than Harleys out in the barn..he just stayed away..like most fathers he had big aspirations for his son and saw them slipping away...Mom was happy, hauling me to the bike shops and mingling with the bikers,,she understood that from day one I was going to do what I was going to do..she never tried to change it..Loved her for it..She bought the tags..I was legal..

November 10th 1976 I rolled the Bitch out of the barn..That's right the Bitch..smash a finger, won't start, flooded, flat tire and sitting broke down beside the road..Bitch..After 6 or 8 good kicks she came to life..my first legal ride, off to school..Now the Bitch wasn't pretty and shiny the first few years I had her..in fact she ran more into the ugly side but I rode a Harley, it was mine..Thank you Willie even though today I still don't remember much of you..Now the Bitch did draw attention and more than I expected when I parked it in the High School parking lot..Saw the dean checking her out when I went to class..cool..Well not really he called Mom sometime that morning to talk about the motorcycle..Mom and the dean were on a first name level by then..From what I remember Mom told him to stick it..common phrase in the day..I was riding my bike whenever I wanted..

I rode that bike till 1995..Not much, in fact thinking back I spent more money, time and effort on the Bitch then any bike since..Five complete make overs..Ness ridged that got 700 miles on it..Sanatee Softtail and chrome and gold..She was a bar hopper and a trailer queen..most of the time not by choice..She was the Bitch and lived and breathed giving me grief..She also taught me about being a man..if you want something you have to be willing to work for it..she taught me the lifestyle and made me friends in low places..She found her way home when I was unable..

I still see the Bitch from time to time,,she's still just a shiny bar hopper..she's in good hands..Thanks for the lesson in life...

Sunday, March 15, 2009

The Creed...for you Sunshine..

In our youth when we are less weary of the world and the people in it friends are plenty. As you pass through youth and find life happens the circle of friends becomes smaller..Being a loner by both choice and lifestyle my circle has become small..life, death, marriage and jobs..all things we would like to think we control but truly only have a small say in them change us..We grow, move and change..ether by choice or by circumstance..

Being a biker and living the lifestyle makes the circle even smaller.I have frends who don't ride..I have brothers and sister who do..Those who have never experienced Biker can never understand what a Harley, a road and the freedom they bring can do mind, body and soul..

There is a difference between a friend and Brother or Sister..not in blood but in life..The creed, unspoken words between fellow riders..I'll be there for you..Motor oil for the soul, Laughing, loving, standing with, Be there for, not questioning only supporting..Wisdom, understanding only gained from the road.. As we get older the circle gets smaller..Trusting in and opening up becomes more guarded..It's been many years since I was given the chance to welcome a new friend into my circle..Someone who understands the creed..who will be there when you need them and kick your ass when it needed..I have been lucky..

To my Sister, friend and confidant..who has stood beside me, reached out to me and had my back..Covered the bases and did the footwork while I was unable..or unwilling without ever questioning..Who's firm ways have given guidance..who's ass kicking no matter how painful were deserved..In such a short time you have given more than many in a lifetime..

There is no repayment plan for friendship..there is only the hope that I can carry on with the strength, courage and will you have given me...To be there for you just as you were for me..

Te amo. .thanks para ser en mi vida.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Need Help Identifying a Part


I Know its off a FatBob Tank but what bloody year

this is going to be heavily modified to take a centre switch 


under normal circumstances there would be 4 plastic lens for the indicators , neutral an Oil , these have been removed to mount mini switches 

i need to know what year this is off as it needs a new rubber for the base of the dashmount to stop it scratching the Tank 

any idea's please ?

i would've taken it to the local stealership but i reckon it maybe older than the blokes serving parts behind the counter anything pre-2000 causes him much head scratching

 

Stop light memories,,it is time to ride..

I think most of us will agree that this has been the worse start to a New Year I can remember..Every turn it's been how bad it is and how bad it is going to get..So many issues with so little time..when you fall into the mind set bad shit seems to hunt you down..Not much is changing other than it's time to ride.. Spring is nine days away, the suns out and daylight savings time is in..fire them up it's time to set your souls free again..

I did just that last night..just a couple of hours..No place to go, no place to stop, nobody to see..the Shovel, the wind, the cleansing of the mind..Hit the main road and headed into town. Did a back street run to main street..A little cool out so a stop light run will work..the shovel don't like hot day stop light runs..

A stop light run for me is like going to a sporting event..it is not about the game but the people in the stands..in this case in the cages..maybe even like going to the zoo..Expressions or lack of,, Five year olds with faces glued to the windows..How many end up finding the freedom of riding after that day..Granny's who will not look over fearing the worst,,Granddad who gives you a wink and a thumbs up..The blond with the camera phone, the gangbanger with the weak eye..expressions...

Life is about our expressions..the good, the bad and the meaningless..For the most part none of it matters,,time to ride...

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

In Memory of Steven Jules Kleppie

I met Steve at Harry's Bar in Pismo Beach in March 1982..He was sitting on the stage playing an old Dobro slide guitar for drinks and because he love to play..Loner, searcher and a dreamer we had a lot in common. Neither one of us were doing much, work was slow that years so when Steve asked if I wanted to go to Martinez and party I couldn't say no.

Meet his clan a couple of day's later..His dad was a big old Scotsman and his mom was fireball tiny black lady..didn't have much as far as stuff but they all shared a love for life..Dad was a nomad rider..Knuckleheads, he had about fifteen of them..he wasn't a collector he used them for parts..he rode alone and like he had the devil by the tail..it was the start of a great spring for me.

Now Steve stood about 6'4"..wild ass red hair and muttonchops, he was a drinking fool and loved all mind altering substances..any order they came in worked for him..He rode a Knuckle,,wasn't much of a wrench but was hell on wheels with baling wire a duct tape..he also had that luck,,shit didn't break..He loved music, guitars, guns and bikes..the lady's too.

Five months we worked early and partied late..just doing enough to keep the ice chest full of cheap beer and what ever else we could find..we rode, we spent hours with Taco listening to old biker stories..we had a lifetime of adventure packed in to a few hours..

The dog food lady in Berkley, two hit's of window pane acid and the Callacut tunnel, Leaving the renaissance fair in Agoura Hills driving while blind..the shaky lady with a gun..Angels Camp, 81's and were paying you to play..it's 4 am. Backstage with the Greatfull Dead for a weekend..damn Jerry you were an asshole..

Life happens and we move on..I found love and you got a real job brother..Neither one last long but we had to try..meet up a few times in odd places..remember the pheasants..I guess I could say it was our version of the last supper..I got the email from Carrie this morning..life in the fast lane is what she had carved on your stone..I'm stopping by in the morning to say goodbye..Love ya Brother..

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Seventy Miles...how it works..

Ever have one of those days that if you jumped into a rose bush you would come out smelling like shit..try doing it for a couple of weeks..Well when the shit hit's the fan it has to land someplace and I got a fucking bulls eye dead center. Enough of the pity party for now..had a meeting with a whiny client this morning,,these fucking people have or had no end..I found it for them this morning..I was going to sit down with a business partner who also covets stupidity as his best asset so I decided that the first idiot was the winner that day and the boy would have to wait..Sun's out I'm riding..Been having oil pressure problems with the Shovel, breather tube in the cam cover was plugged..decided to go back down to the Andrews "D" grind, new points "chevy" and replace a couple of oil lines..Poor old Shovel had very little road time since the work and that means I had very little road time..Been busy letting the world stomp my ass..Time to roll on some throttle and end the slide..Flip a coin to see if the front tire has one more ride in it,,fuck it don't matter..

The seventy miles is straight up the hill from 384 feet above sea level to 4500 feet..bad day it can be done in an hour..I'm in a mood, ride and burgers..First full leather in a long time..the old stuff, the real stuff..four dollar novelty helmet to top it off..roll the dog out and kick it..don't have to do that but today it just felt right..Third time is the charm...Rolling to sanity, recouping life,,resurrecting the soul,,if you believe in such things..

Now most times solo out I wanna ride it sorta hard..today I hit the bottom of the hill and felt the urge to take it in..enjoy pipes, the power the wind..light clouds floating around..what the fuck is the hurry..I'm going to hurry my sorry ass into a dirt mound..slow it down, let it roll..see what you have missed..my hour up took a hour and a half..the burger joint was locked up tight..the parking lot has a view to die for..kickstand down..have a cigar..

Riding time is thinking time..had some time to let the few remaining active brain cells process the right and the wrongs, how I got to where I was at today..Time to realize like most of life's pitfalls are self inflicted wounds..all you can do is dust yourself off and keep moving forward..lesson learned on the back of the Shovelhead..now if I can just remember them all..