Gear Up or Else

One of my favorite motorcycle campaigns from the last decade or two has been the GearUpProject. I've been sporting one of their stickers on the gashed up side-panel of my V-Strom since I gashed it up (2007 or thereabouts). This group accumulates statistics on riders, crashes, and the effectiveness of gear.

I stumbled on this sneaker/flip-flop wearer's pre-surgery/post-clean-up shot and it is a gross reminder of the high cost of hoping for the best and planning for the same. Nature loves vacuums and hates fools. Like my experience with scooter-ownership, if you aren't smart enough to imagine how much damage sliding down the road at 5-75mph will do to your skin, you aren't smart enough to ride a motorcycle (you can own one, just don't take it out of your living room). The old "Death on the Highway" films the Highway Patrol used to show to high school kids to gross them out and make them consider sticking with bicycles for a few more years before venturing on to highways in Mom's Buick, this kind of illustration is a good reminder of how poorly we are constructed.

After stopping at Fleet Farm to grab some cheap synthetic oil (yes, they do carry several brands of 2-and-4-stroke motorcycle oil for cheaper than average prices), a squid on an R6 rolled in beside us (parking in a regular space instead of Fleet Farm's spacious and roped in motorcycle parking area) dressed in baggy shorts, a wife-beater, and flipflops. He inspired me to consider blowing up this picture (and a dozen other hospital shots into a "squid hall of fame montage") and turning it into a window poster to go along with a "Start Seeing Motorcyclists in Hospitals" sign. How dumb do you have to be to risk this kind of damage?

Driving the camper back from Washington, I was amazed at the number of people wearing helmets (in helmet law states) and going, otherwise, naked on motorcycles. Not coincidentally, I didn't see a single one of those characters showing a lick of skill on their motorcycles. There seems to be a link between riding unprotected and being talentless on a motorcycle.

Exceeding the Limits

It has been an all-around shit week. My wife is convinced she wants to explore the world in a motorhome. You probably already how I feel about 4-wheel anything and this "plan" smells like something that will put me behind the wheel of a cursed cage for extended periods of time with no upsides in sight. Being the passive-aggressive Midwesterner I am, I found a pretty good deal on a motorhome I can probably tolerate and bought the damn thing, driving it home 1800 miles from near Portland in a couple of days (and nights).

Arriving pissed off and disoriented, I went back to what passes for my "life" Tuesday and promptly had my billfold stolen during a physical therapy session at the Roseville Community Center, The asshole smacked my MasterLock, cracking the hasp and made off with my identity, a couple hundred bucks of travel money left over from the trip, and a couple of credit cards. So far, he's racked up $2400 in idiotic charges and proved that the world of credit is populated with moronic vendors and a lot of stupid bankers. Being as true as possible to stereotypes, the jackass went first to some place called "Hat World," followed by Footlocker, "SQ Dionte Tinkel, OFG Wireless (bought a disposable phone), and to the Roseville Apple Store (twice) for iPads. If the Roseville Police can't find this douchebag, having been photographed in high-resolution by the Apple Store and in pretty good resolution leaving the community center, they should close up shop and quit wasting taxpayer money. I'll put my money on the Roseville cops being far too lethargic to find their own shoes in the morning, let alone a thief who might actually move faster than 2mph.

I know better than to bring valuables into the locker room, but you're damned if you do and damned if you don't. Leave them in the car and any idiot with a Slim Jim gets your stuff. Take the stuff into the gym locker room and they bust the lock and are off and spending money like a Kardasian with an unlimited credit card. Carry the stuff into the gym and they have all sorts of opportunities to grab your stuff while you exercise. The only solution is to avoid going anywhere. The world is obviously full of useless, bored young men and the next douchebag who whines to me about abortion might get a late term look at the procedure himself.

The lost week hasn't ended yet.

I made an errand ride to the library, returning a couple of books, getting caught in a rainstorm, and managing no to fasten my tailbag solidly to the rack, and losting the damn thing somewhere between the library and a drug store. This is the second small MotoFizz bag I've managed to "lose," the first one was stolen from the bike when I made a quick trip into work to grab some test papers about two years ago. This one, I tossed myself. Stupidly, on the way there I thought "I ought to write my name on this damn bag."

I'm sitting in the sun porch, feeling sorry for myself. Clearly, Alzheimer's has claimed what's left of my tiny brain. It's probably time to make that walk into the forest and hope for a large predator to make a quick, clean kill.

POSTSCRIPT: Someone incredibly helpful found the bag in front of his house, called my work number (business cards were in the bag) and left it on his porch where I could find it last night. Incredibly, the MotoFizz stayed on the WR's tailrack for 2.2 miles of moderate traffic maneuvering. I missed finding it myself because I turned a couple of blocks too early on the return trip to the library and the good Samaritan had already found it by the time I made the return pass. So, now I can go the the Alzehimer's clinic knowing, for a few moments, where some of my stuff is.

Getting Tricky with a V-Strom

The project bike after installment #1.

The folks at RideApart.com have started an interesting project, creating a better-than-the-Adventure-V-Strom for less than the additional $1500 Suzuki tacks on for the Adventure model. With a function-based goalpost, one of the usual bullshit "improvements" dumbass motorcycle magazines usually start with died out of the gate: "So we had no intention of throwing an exhaust system on this thing that would blow a grand of the budget to liberate 1.37 horsepower."

Suddenly, I have become a huge fan of RideApart.com. The last two issues of Motorcyclist and Motorcycle Consumer News have pissed me off with their insistence on making noise as a delusion of speed and power that I am tossing their subscription letters into the trash without bothering to look at what they are offering.
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They started with the undeniably best and most indispensable "upgrade" a motorcycle can get, a center-stand, and progressed to a bashplate (also indispensable off-road) and a chain-oiler (we can argue about that one). With only $600 of their $1500 budget spent, this looks like one of the best upgrade articles ever. Apparently, having a budget is the key to spending money intelligently.Who knew?

#2 Who Has What?

All Rights Reserved © 1999 Thomas W. Day

A while back, I read an article about bikers' opinions on the technical competence of Harley Davidson products. In the article, one character said something about the limitations of Harley engineers and another followed that up with "Harley has engineers?"

OK, I admit I not only thought it was a funny quote, but, outside of the suits and geeks who clutter up Harley's manufacturing floor, I pretty much agreed with the sentiment. A manufacturer that microscopically changes its design once every couple of decades (regardless of competitor activity, advances in available technology, or customer demand) isn't likely to have a pack of innovative and motivated R&D guys on staff. There are only so many ways you can dangle fringe from handlebars before you can pull every idea you need from old production drawings. But this isn't about Harley bashing, as much as that topic warms my soul.

The other side of that same slam arose this week as some guys I know were talking about Yamaha and Honda's failure to market some of their recent really interesting motorcycles in the US. Even worse, the coolest of their recent design output won't ever be seen in a U.S. dealer's showroom. Someone included "Yamaha's Marketing Department" in a statement about a bunch of those sales disasters. That was quickly followed by the obvious question, "Yamaha has a marketing department?"

So, do they?

If you look at the really cool bikes that Yamaha and Honda have lost money bringing into this country in the last couple of decades, you have to wonder what happened to the folks who convinced us "you meet the nicest people on a Honda." Honda hasn't managed an innovative advertising campaign since 1969. I don't remember Yamaha's marketing ever doing anything creative in my lifetime. These companies have been on cruise control for so long, we wouldn't take their advise if it was right.

These days, the two big chunks of the big Japanese Four are simply cutting and pasting their Harley-clones into old Harley ads. Check out the ads. If you cut out the logos, you tell me if you can tell a Harley ad from a Valkerie ad from a Royal Star ad. Without a sincere interest in farm implement design and the you'd-never-mistake-it-for-anything-else, all-time-most-butt-ugliest-bike-in-history-ness of the Valkerie, you wouldn't be able to tell Hondas from Yamahas from Harleys in those same ads.

If someone who cared discovered that these three companies all share the same clothing models, accessory designers, aftermarket component suppliers, and a custom seat manufacturer (whoops, they do; Corbin), it wouldn't surprise me at all. Essentially, they all make the same bike for the same people for the same purpose.

I guess I should be flattered. A couple billion dollars of manufacturing horsepower has been aimed at building plodding hippopotamuses for the rich geezers of my very own generation. All of those geeky kids who aspired to MBA and computer science degrees from upper-crust schools suddenly decided they need to be rebels without clues. They've traded in their creepy wingtips with tassels and three piece suits for even creepier black leather jackets with waist expansion panels and fringed leather chaps. The "Geek-boy meets Sonny Barger" look. Go ahead, tell me the picture on this site (http://sonnybarger.com/) doesn't look like your neighborhood investment banker on his way to a yuppie bar in Wisconsin.

While all this posturing and positioning for the last financial gasps of the Boomer generation is going on, you gotta wonder if anyone is thinking about two-wheeling in the years after Y2k? My kids generation could care less what Pete Fonda was riding when he ate the big one in an obscure, godawful 1967 B-movie. While motorcycle sales are up this year, for the first time in a couple of decades, most of those sales are going to geezers who won't be doing anything on two wheels in less than a decade.

Marketing, at its best, is education. At it's worst, it's a pointless waste of money. Honda, Yamaha, or somebody better buy a clue and get excited about selling motorcycles that have a purpose. If they don't learn how to generate a lot of interest in riders under age 55, we'll see "the crash of '83" all over again in a very few years.

Winter 1999/2000

A Ticking Clock

My wife and I are in the market for [gasp] a motorhome. We're approaching the point where we are going to have to make some big decisions about the next few years and one of the options we want to explore is living off of the grid (as in avenues and streets). I've picked a test model (the Winnebago Rialta 1996-2005, prefereably a 2002-2005) and the interior style (the HD or RD) and all that's left is to find a vehicle for the price I'm willing to pay.

Seems pretty simple, doesn't it? It turns out, nothing is simple except, maybe, being born or dying.

There is a lot to consider here. Mostly, where the hell does the motorcycle go? I mean, seriously, how can I live in one of these things if I can't figure out where to put the motorcycle?

For the last 20 years, my wife has been more than a little jealous of my "adventures." She's not all that interested in the adventure part, but she has a fine idea of herself as a traveller and rarely going anywhere or doing anything has done some serious damage to that self-image. I'm good with a tent/bivouac and a sleeping bag, but she's pretty set on sleeping in a bed with solid walls around us (Notice the "us," instead of the more Geezer-friendly singular term?) On the other hand, I hate cages and was sort of looking forward to purging myself of all things four-wheeled in my geezerhood. A compromise is going to have to happen here and I suspect we all know what that means. (I give up some shit in exchange for a little peace and quiet.)

In the process of searching for information about these vehicles, we met a couple who are, probably, another decade or so older than us. (Imagine that?) Dave and Mary have had a great dozen or so years of retirement, motorcycling, full-time motorhoming, sailing the Pacific, and doing all sorts of cool stuff that most kids wouldn't dream of tackling. However, at 70-something David has worn out some parts and did a pretty good job of letting me know how near that moment will be for me. The moment when I have to decide if I can keep two-wheeling or if it's time to settle to call an occasional bingo game an "adventure." David has a couple of mangled discs, a bad shoulder, and failing eyesight. His mind is sharper than mine on my best day, but the body has taken a beating and the crows of some habits have come home to roost. Like a lot of us, he hates exercise and would rather rot than put in time on a treadmill or pumping iron. I can relate.

However, that is not a functional attitude. I've mentioned Younger Next Year: Live Strong, Fit, and Sexy - Until You're 80 and Beyond before and here it comes again. The older we get, the harder we have to work to get to do any damn thing. This isn't optional, although it sure feels like it. What happens if we don't keep cranking out sweat and putting up with the pain for the gain is constant deterioration. Nature pretty much says, "If you're not going to work at this, die you worthless old bastard." Even if you do work at it, the end result is deterioration, it just takes a little longer. If you look at the world and national weight lifting champions, the downsizing of expectations with age is relentless. The Snatch/Clean & Jerk totals for 35-39 year olds is 328kG, 55-59 year olds is 239kG, 65-69 years is 213kG, and 75-79 is 180. We keep working, but our body is designed to peak at about 27 (for me) and go downhill from then on.

All this is just another piece of evidence that getting old isn't for sissies. Tonight, it's back to the workout routine.

As for the motorhome, some kind of ramp will end up tacked to the back of the vehicle and the WR250X will live there except when I'm off on a dirt road and my wife is happily ensconced in a civilized campground with the cat and dog for company.

Back in the Digest Again

In my never-ending crusade to piss off people on all sides of the oceans, Dave Gruman has cursed The Rider's Digest readers with another Geezer rant: Secondary Effects. As always, this month's magazine is a great read with the best pictures in moto-journalism.

Be sure to read Oldlongdog's article, Riding Out the Recession. He is the reason I accidentally hooked up with Rider's Digest and I chase his work down anywhere I can find it. Where else can you combine hippy politics with motorcycling? The best of all worlds.

PSA: 8km/h Can Change Everything

In the gold old USofA, this kind of PSA scares the crap out of our politically-correct, wimpy-assed conservative pussified (thank you Mr. Carlin) culture, so we waste time with "Start Seeing Motorcycles" and silly crap that doesn't get any sort of point across, but makes the ABATE bunch feel good about themselves and their campaign to keep riders at risk and shove the blame for motorcycle deaths on to the general public. We know better, don't we?

What Kind of Crash Is This?

There is a fair amount of discussion on-line attributing the "cause" of this incident to "target fixation." I completely disagree. Everything about this crash stinks of rider incompetence. Even worse, like the cagers we often whine about, this asshole decided to sacrifice unprotected bicyclists rather than accept the consequences of riding too fast and not being in control of his motorcycle and move his crash off of the road and away from innocent victims. For that, I would suggest throwing the entire rule book at biker bozo and extracting the maximum cash and liberty. Running into the back of any vehicle or person is a symptom of incompetence on multiple levels. In this case, it's also damn near attempted manslaughter.

The fact that jackass-boy is also playing racer on public roads, has a loud pipe (perfectly delineating who he really is), and reacted exactly wrong in every way pretty much puts the nails in his riding coffin. The perfect outcome would be a shit-load of tickets from the cop and learning that one of the bicyclists is a lawyer. I have no more sympathy for him than I would for a cager (especially a cop) who rear-ends a motorcycle.

This is not a poor-biker story, but a dumbass-on-a-motorcycle classic tale. This guy and the thousands like him are exactly the reason "real people" hate motorcyclists and making him into anything else puts us in his boots (or, probably, flipflops). 

Your opinion?

Postscript: This video and opinions about who did what to who and why are "going viral" on the web. A bicyclist's view of the crash is about the same as mine, "What Really Happened." Huffington Post wrote it up in "Motorcycle Crashes Into Cyclists On California Highway." One of the Huffington readers optimistically called the douchebag "Worst motorbike rider ever." We wish that were true.

#1 What Are We Riding For? (The original, from whence The Geezer came from) October 1999

What Are We Riding For?

All Rights Reserved © 1999 Thomas W. Day

After reading the last two issues of M.M.M., it struck me how difficult it must be to write about motorcycling in 1999. First, the majority of riders are geezers (over 47, according to the last poll I read), rich ($8Ok average income), and girly-man geeks (claim "Allie McBeal" and some other godawful soap opera as their favorite TV shows).

Second, as one of your writers discussed last month, damn few of us appear to be actually riding the motorcycles we buy. When bikes are the minority vehicle at a motorcycle event (not an event occurring at the Metrodome in January), you gotta know something is wrong in two-wheeled America.

Third, the U.S. of A’s motorcycling tastes have become so unimaginative that it’s not even fun to visit the local bike shops and drool on the bikes that I’d buy if I won the lottery. The two main street bike choices are 1) Harley clones with dumbed-down motors and enough overweight chromed pot metal to build a John Deere farm implement or 2) 180hp crotch rockets with 0.25" of suspension and a riding position that would cause a proctologist’s finger to twitch uncontrollably.

If I wanted to ride something that had just left state-of-the-art when I was born, in 1948, I’d be in hog heaven (pun intended). When I was an active off-road racer, the Harley crowd ruined a collection of my favorite events (including Sturgis) and I still hold a grudge.

Fortunately, I had an active, motorcycling, childhood so I don’t need to relive my "Wild One" self-image at the same time I try to ignore calls from burial plot salesmen. If I was willing to hand over my driver’s license and, probably, my freedom for 90 days or more, the spine-pounding, more-power-than-Tim-Allen-can-imagine imitation racer bikes might trip my trigger. I really do love the concept behind these bikes, but I like to do 400-700 mile days and take off on the occasional dirt road. Off of the race track, this is a 75mph-max world, so all that power is just trouble looking for a billfold to empty. The concept appears to be without purpose, to me. I bike-commute to work most weekdays and there just isn’t any place to safely wind out to 170mph between Roseville and Shoreview. But I do admire the technology.

I know, I’m ignoring Goldwings (and their clones) and dirt bikes. Any bike that’s so cumbersome that it needs a reverse gear is not going to do it for me. I’m not knocking them, though. I have nothing but admiration for a 70-year-old who can tote his trophy wife, pull a trailer, and crank his Wing through Montana backroads at 80mph+. I’ve seen it and it is scary.

With a 29" inseam, Japan hasn’t made a dirt bike that’s a practical ride for me since 1984. Finding a place to ride a dirtbike is harder than finding honest politicians. While rocketing around places where goats need a hand up is as much fun as anything you can do on two wheels, hauling a trailer for four hours to get there isn’t.

That leaves the Suzuki SV650, a couple of decent mid-sized "standards" that have been around as long as me, three or four equally mature dual-purpose bikes, and the Ninja 250 as the sum total of "novelty" bikes imported into the US.

How many times can a magazine write "this year’s model is seventeen pounds heavier, 3hp weaker, and provides more than forty-seven square feet of polished chrome?" The alternative is "200mph is no problem, assuming you can support your family from prison." I think the pages of praise written about the Suzuki SV tells the story. You guys can’t stop raving about how much fun it is to "ride" this bike. More than half of the reviews I’ve seen talk about going places and seeing things while the reviewer is having a great time riding the bike. I know you guys know that there are at least two dozen equally cool bikes that aren’t imported into the U.S. because the manufacturers don’t believe Americans will buy bikes that are fun to ride. We’re, on average, a freakin’ nation of posers and squids and we aren’t worth the effort it takes to run an EPA test.

October 1999

Backing Myself Up

For the last decade, everything I've written for Minnesota Motorcycle Monthly magazine was archived on the magazine's website and on my own site. There is a chance that Comcast is going to eliminate the users' webpage feature (hardly any customers use it and it hasn't been available for new customers for several years). When that happens, that history will be gone because MMM's website is pretty much a clusterfuck and doesn't appear to be on the path to getting better any time soon. That puts me in a pretty awkward position and I'm too old for almost any of the stuff in the Kama Sutra. Hell, I'm probably too old to be able to read the damn thing.

So, I'm thinking about scheduling a reposting of every one of my past Geezer columns right here in this blog. Google doesn't seem to be going anywhere (no offense, to Larry Page and Sergey Brin in case they are lurking) and I'd like to know where some of my stuff is in case I have yet another of my many computer disasters in the future. So, if there is no immediate outrage at the thought of having to suffer through my 125-or more non-blogged essays, I'm going to be cutting-and-pasting a crap load of stuff from my ancient past (1999 to 2013) right here over the next 100-and-something days. I might even repost some of the product and bike reviews here, if that's acceptable.

Thanks for your patience, as always.

Tom

When I Was Less Old

In 1999, when I first proposed that I write an essay to generate lots of hate mail for the then-flailing-fledgling motorcycle magazine, Minnesota Motorcycle Monthly, I was convinced I was old enough to call myself the "Geezer with A Grudge." Men in my family don't, on average, live long. I was 51 at the time and had absolutely no expectations that I would live a lot of years past that mark. In fact, only two years later I decided to quit a high-paying engineering job in the medical devices industry and take a flyer on going back to my old music business life (recording studio maintenance and design) as a "retirement" gig in my last years. Worst case, I figured that I'd burn through my savings in five years and would be back at the door of some Misfortune 500 crap hole begging for something like my old job. Best case, I'd struggle on balancing freelance work, occasional short-term employment, and living like a semi-retired guy on a fixed income until I really was on a fixed income or I kicked the Big Bucket like the rest of my genetic predecessors. Living to 65 was not part of that plan.

Assuming I survive another few weeks, I will turn 65 this summer. Regardless of Social Security and the Repuglican 1%'er congresscritters' opinions, that is officially the age of a "geezer." I know, some of you passed that number decades ago and are still running marathons, leaping tall buildings, and just starting out on new careers as dotcom entrepreneurs and I'm just a boy in comparison. Fuck you. I'm old, tired, beat-up, surviving on artificial limbs and weird crap propping up my heart vessels. Maybe your family typically lives to 150, but the guys in my family usually top out at 40-55 and I'm living on "bonus time" (as my best friend once described it).

Henny Ray Abrams' recent sudden death in February was another reminder of how fast life changes to death. Henny Ray was 58 and died working on one more motorcycle story. He wrote for Cycle News, Cycle World, and anyone else who would buy his stories and pictures about MotoGP, motocross, or pretty much anything he might find interesting on two wheels. I didn't know Abrams from anything other than his writing, but I liked him and thought of him as a "good guy." By my current standards, he was not old enough to be a geezer. He was, literally, working on another motorcycle story when he died in his apartment at his desk.

If you didn't need stuff like this as a reminder that life is short and then you're dead, good for you. I'm inclined to get caught up on the daily grind of making a living, paying the bills, and worrying about other people's problems and time blows past my way too fast. The last decade has been one of the most pleasant of my life. Mostly, because I have taken work way less seriously, worried about making assholes richer almost not at all, and taken more time to appreciate my friends, family, and good fortune. Today, I'm going to take a ride and appreciate the fact that spring has finally arrived (at least for a few days) in Minnesota and I'm still able to enjoy it. I suggest you do something equally fun. It's Sunday, the day even some of the 99% get to fuck off.

The News . . . My Way

Paul Young put me over the top with the first article in this month's news report, so if you're not entertained blame it on him. When the new Minnesota Motorcycle Monthly editor, Guido Ebert, took over the editorial reins from Sev Pearman he decided he wanted a more traditional news column. That said, he added, "You may not miss doing the news, but I think we’ll have readers that’ll miss you doing the section." Honestly, I won't miss that job. The pay was nothing spectacular and it was a lot of work; often a whole day out of my life each month. Worse, I felt that I needed to temper my own attitude on that column since it reflected the magazine rather than just me, unlike the Geezer column. With all that in mind, here comes the motorcycle news for May . . . my way:

Loud Pipes Will Get Your Weak Ass Strangled
A set of noise-makers got a Pasadena, Texas bozo strangled in early April. Chris McLain had about enough of his neighbour's loud motorcycle and the jackass's habit of riding across McLain's front lawn at 4.30am. When he complained about those two things, the biker-neighbour stabbed him. McLain's obvious response was to choke the biker to death. The biker-bozo's name has yet to be released by police. He was "in his mid thirties." Police and EMTs rushed McLain to Memorial Hermann Texas Trauma Institute by helicopter. He's in critical condition for multiple stab wounds.

The police report said, "McLain's father said his son had no choice but to defend himself." The rest of us just say "good riddance" and hope McLain recovers soon.

Read, Fire, Aim - Our AMA at Work
Friday, April was the AMA's "Freedom Friday" somethingorother . . . celebration? Of the several items they equate to "freedom" is the freedom to terrorize, irritate, and otherwise make as many enemies as possible for people who actually ride motorcycles as opposed to the AMA's largely garage candy clientele. In that spirit, they whined that motorcycles are being "banned from public beachside parks, private gated communities or acre after acre of public land" and especially bitched about "signs that say: 'No Motorcycles Allowed.'" Clueless as always, the AMA appears to be completely unaware that their fight against limits on motorcycle noise, poor pollution and efficiency characteristics of most motorcycles, general biker hooligan behavior, and the fact that motorcycles have become mostly a rich kids' toy in the US is the core of the motorcycle image problem. "We have met the enemy and he is us."

Anyway, the AMA wants you to report motorcycle bans because, "We want to know about them, and we want to unite motorcyclists to block or overturn them." They also want insurance companies to be restrained from correctly assessing risk on motorcycles and motorcyclists. It's all part of their "freedom" campaign or something freedom-like.

April - AMA Go Ride! Month
In their usual clueless jibberjabber style, the AMA decreed the first two weeks of April as AMA Go Ride! Month. Are you clowns fuckin' crazy? There is a foot of snow on the road and ice packed into every turn. You assholes go ride. I'm staying by the fireplace. Moron Californians.

Maybe Riding Is Not Such A Good Idea
The first week of April was almost like a real April. The result was that a couple of Minnesota motorcyclists managed to kill themselves while the sun was shining.

Tyron Somaiah (23) of Crystal was "evading police at a high rate of speed on 694. He exited at Brooklyn Blvd" where he ran a red light at Welcome Avenue and was struck by a car. He died at the scene. A 57-year-old Brooklyn Center woman was injured in the crash and was taken to North Memorial Medical Center with minor injuries.

Anthony John Carlson of Lake Elmo was westbound on County Road 41 near Minnemishinona Falls when he lost control of his motorcycle and crossed into the eastbound lane and hit a guardrail. He was taken to Rochester's St. Mary's Hospital where he died.

Save the Corn Lobby, Buy Crap Gas
U.S. Rep. Jim Sensenbrenner (R-Wis.) introduced a bill, H.R. 875, that would repeal the EPA's waiver decision approving the use of E15. The bill would require the EPA from making further "decisions" until the agency obtains some actual evidence that E15 isn't a stupid idea. Wisconsin, obviously, isn't a big corn state. Otherwise, that state's Republican representative would be all about forcing alcohol into our fuel systems. Who does Sensenbrenner work for, anyway? I didn't think there were any Republicans who weren't wholly owned subsidiaries of one or more corporations.

Why Idiot Lights are Called "Idiot Lights"
American Mental Giant (AMG), Jack Wilson, in an act of motorcycle mastery, crashed his Harley-Davidson (what else?) and tossed his wife hard and far enough to cause permanent brain damage. Judy Wilson suffered skull, facial, rib and scapular fractures and has a prosthetic skull and a permanent brain injury that often leads to future disability.

AMG Wilson is suing Harley-Davidson because he mistakenly believed his 2008 Harley-Davidson Road Glide was equipped with ABS. Wilson crashed on California's Highway 99 and told the CHP that the cause of the crash was that the bike's ABS malfunctioned. Unfortunately, the only hint of ABS his bike had was the space on the console where the ABS light would be if the bike had ABS installed. Wilson has Harley in court claiming that the icon and idiot light space fooled him into believing he was protected by magical ABS powers. Obviously, a pair of real (full-face, not toilet bowls) helmets might have been a better investment than the ABS idiot light.

Harley's lawyer said, "If the icon doesn't light up when you start the bike, anybody should know you don't have ABS . . . He should have known the bike's features after riding it for 15 months and 12,000 miles." Wilson sued Harley for the ABS icon "design defect" and hoped to win $3 million. A jury disagreed.

Victory Auctions a Playboy Playmate Autographed Bike for Charity
No matter what I do with this "news item," I'm damned. I'm just gonna say the three Playmates featured in the Victory catalog -- Raquel Pomplun, Anna Sophia Berglund and Ciara Price -- signed a 2013 Victory bagger "loaded with attitude and performance" for "Operation Gratitude, a charitable organization dedicated to providing material and emotional support to America's armed forces and their families." Nope, nothing more than that. I'm done.

Lane-Splitting Safety Guidelines
Supposedly, the CHP issued the first-ever guidelines for lane-splitting in California. I'm unconvinced this is a first, since it is exactly the same rules a CHP officer explained to me in traffic school thirty years ago, but what do I know?

"The agency's guidelines rest on a fundamental rule: a motorcycle is allowed to pass between cars in adjoining lanes of traffic as long as it does so safely.

"Safely" means three things:
1. A motorcyclist should split lanes at no more than 10 mph above traffic speed.
2. A motorcyclist should not split lanes when traffic is moving at more than 30 mph.
3. A motorcyclist should split lanes using the space between the No. 1 and No. 2 lanes.

"The guidelines are not laws. A motorcyclist could not be cited for breaking them, but neither could one avoid being cited by following them if he were otherwise riding unsafely -- not paying attention to environmental issues like lighting, weather and so on. An officer could cite a motorcyclist for riding recklessly, whether within the guidelines or not, said Sgt. Mark Pope, statewide coordinator for the CHP’s California Motorcyclist Safety Program."
My favorite section of the article was this little asside about ABATE: "Among the loudest voices was Steve Guderian, a former Ontario city motorcycle cop who is now the safety officer for the motorcycle rights group ABATE. (Formerly the American Brotherhood Against Totalitarian Enactments, ABATE is a political action organization with roots in the Hells Angels’ ultimately unsuccessful battles against the California mandatory-helmet law. Trying to shed its renegade past, ABATE now calls itself the American Brotherhood Aimed Toward Education.)"

We Don't Need No Stinkin' Licenses and other Legal Crap
Alabama has been the only state in the Union that doesn't require a motorcycle license. Rep. Allen Farley, (R-McCalla) introduced House Bill 185 that would require said license. Farley has stated that he would also eventually like to see a skills test requirement. Currently, any Alabamian 16 and older with a regular driver’s license can also operate a motorcycle in the state. The law does not require an endorsement to operate a motorcycle.

Massachusetts may join California in outlawing "for competition use only" pipes on street bikes. Senate Bill 1663 would require every motorcycle built after Dec. 31, 1982 and parked or operated in the state to be equipped with an exhaust system labeled in conformance with the Code of Federal Regulations for OEM (original equipment manufacturer) or aftermarket exhaust systems. The law would require the exhaust system label to be clearly visible without the use of inspection mirrors or other optical aids, or without removal of any equipment attached to the motorcycle. An initial violation would be punishable by a fine of $250; second violation, by a $500 fine; and third violation by a $1,000 fine.

Other states are considering laws that prohibit motorcycle checkpoints, children under the age of 5 years from being a passenger on a motorcycle, permit a motorcyclist stuck at an intersection controlled by a traffic-actuated signal to proceed with due caution, would create an aggravated offense for driving while using a video device, wireless telephone, or electronic communication device, authorize motorcycles to operate in toll lanes and on toll roads without the payment of a toll, to be equipped with a means of varying the brightness of the its brake light for a duration of not more than five seconds upon application of the motorcycle’s brakes, would make comprehensive motor vehicle insurance reparations (no-fault insurance) applicable to motorcycles, would permit motorcycle operators and passengers 21 or older to make their own decision with regard to motorcycle helmet use, and all sorts of dumb shit. Good thing we have government, otherwise nobody would think to do this sillyassed stuff on their own.

NHTSA Recalls:

Triumph Motorcycles 2012-2013 Daytona 675, Street Triple, Speed Triple, and Tiger 800 motorcycles: Due to a manufacturing error, the turn signal stems on the front and rear of the motorcycle may fracture. If the turn signal stems break, the turn signals may not be visible to other vehicles on the road, increasing the risk of a vehicle crash.

Triumph will notify owners and dealers will replace the turn signal stems, free of charge. The recall is expected to begin during April 2013.

Yamaha 2009 YW125 (Zuma 125) scooters manufactured between July 2008 and April 2009: Due to possible improper clearances in the internal fuel pump components. These improper clearances may cause an inadequate supply of fuel. The limited fuel supply could cause engine stalling, increasing the risk of a crash. Yamaha will notify owners, and dealers will replace the fuel pump with a newly designed fuel pump. The recall began on February 27, 2013.

Zhejiang Jixiang Helmets JIXJX-B210: It's hard to find recalls to laugh about, but the April recall of the Zhejiang Jixiang JIXJX-B210 series of clownish toilet bowls hit that mark. NHTSA says "the affected helmets failed to conform to the impact attenuation, penetration, labeling and retention requirements of Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standard # 218." So, if you somehow lose your balance and fail to skid down the road exactly on the top of your head (the only part of your empty skull these joke helmets pretended to protect), you're just as screwed as you will be in every other kind of crash.

Celebrating Earth Day the AMA Way

An unknown motorcyclists pictured
riding , illegally, on public land (Lamoose Trail).

Demonstrating that near-Lenny Bruce-quality comedic timing and sensibility that have endeared the AMA to thousands of environmentalists for decades, the AMA tossed out the following hillarious press release for the entertainment of environmentalists world-wide as part of the "celebration" of Earth Day 2013:

Every day is Earth Day for motorcyclists

PICKERINGTON, Ohio -- As conservation takes center stage on April 22, 2013 for Earth Day, the American Motorcyclist Association salutes motorcyclists and all-terrain vehicle riders nationwide who do volunteer work on public land.

Nobody loves clean air more than street bikers.
How else could you see where we've been?

The AMA also salutes street riders, noting there are many environmental benefits to commuting and traveling on a motorcycle or scooter. "For motorcyclists, every day is Earth Day," said Rob Dingman, AMA president and CEO. "Off-highway riders enjoy the outdoors and respect the land, sometimes even carrying out other people's trash from remote areas. Street riders -- whether on a motorcycle or a scooter -- have a positive impact on the environment and their rides result in a more enjoyable, less-congested experience for all road users."



Celebrating the environment
the AMA Way.

Every year, thousands of off-highway riders and employees of motorcycle-related companies roll up their sleeves to restore and maintain forest areas by planting trees, cutting brush, picking up trash and donating tens of thousands of man-hours or more to those efforts.

Yamaha Motor Corp. U.S.A. employees alone have restored more than 12 acres of forest land over the past five years at the San Bernardino National Forest in California. AMA member Robert Langley, who recently received the AMA Outstanding Off-Road Rider Award, was hailed by the Washington state Department of Natural Resources as one of its top volunteers statewide in 2012 for donating up to 1,000 hours of work a year.

Demonstrating our environmental sensitivity by producing
at least 5-times the hydrocarbons of modern cars.

When it comes to street riding, a typical motorcycle can provide fuel mileage that exceeds that of most fuel-efficient automobiles. Many motorcycles return more than 50 miles per gallon, and many scooters can deliver nearly twice that. In addition to using less fuel, motorcycles require less oil and other chemicals to operate. And the recent introduction of electric motorcycles provides an added benefit for the environment.



Motorcycles take up less space than cars and trucks both during operation, and when parked. They reduce traffic congestion and, in so doing, help increase the efficiency of traffic flow on the road.



Proof that we take up less space.

 Significantly fewer raw materials are utilized to produce motorcycles and scooters compared to cars and trucks. By some measures, it requires thousands of pounds less metal and plastic per vehicle to produce a motorcycle. The environmental benefits are realized both during production, as well as at the end of the vehicle's useful life.

Because motorcycles and scooters are so much more compact and lighter than cars and trucks, they cause far less wear and tear on the highways, reducing the cost and environmental impact of infrastructure repairs. In addition, because of their size, many more motorcycles can be transported from factory to consumer using the same or less energy.

Once a biker has put his mark on the
environment, it's marked for decades.

"When you add it all up, there is no question: If everyone rode motorcycles, the planet would be a greener, less congested place," Dingman said. "And just as important, more of us would experience the thrill and freedom that motorcycles provide. Riding is not just easy on your bank account and the planet, riding is a fun, and often a social activity that simply makes life more enjoyable."

All that touchy-feely, spin-master bullshit just makes you want to slam into a tree and tear up a hillside, doesn't it? If I were rich enough, I'd go out and do a burnout just for good ole' Mother Earth. As it is, I'll just ride to work one more day in my usual boring fashion.

Executive Desk Toys for the 1%?

Looking for Summer

There appears to be no break for the morally ambivalent (that's me). After a viciously long and irritating winter, I thought the worst was behind me back in late March. I broke out the WR250X and started riding to work everyday. Then, last week winter revisited Minnesota and the bike has sat parked next to my disabled Escort ever since. Yesterday was a good day, but I had people to haul and things to carry and was stuck in the cage. Today, the weather report predicted more snow.

Once again, I need to be reminded of why I live in the Great Frozen North. Somebody help me out here. I can feel my resolve dissolving and my willpower vanishing. Warmth, twisty roads, and a population density somewhere under 10 people per square mile is calling me. Practically screaming at me, in fact.

Two Weeks of Two Wheels

I've had a good run. The last two weeks have been cool, but not cold, and the roads have been fairly clear. This week, much of the middle of the country is back in winter storm watch. I'm on 4 wheels today, but for other reasons. If there is 6" of snow on the ground on Wednesday morning, I'm probably not going to ride to work that day. Work is tough enough when I get to ride there and back. Add the boredom of driving to the day and I start to seriously contemplate retiring.

Being Stereotyped

 One of the downsides of being a motorcyclist is that when people find out that I ride a motorcycle they immediately start stereotyping me. My 12 year relationship with Minnesota Motorcycle Monthly started out when I met a young couple at a music magazine party, who my daughter had introduced to me as "people who ride motorcycles." They were youngish, relative to me, dressed in black with a fair amount of leather in their ensembles, and pretty much fit in with the hipsters who were attending the party; although they had taken over a couch a corner of the house out of the line of party traffic. I have no clue how I was dressed. I'd driven my daughter, her year-old son, and my wife to the party, so I could have been wearing the "business attire" crap required for my corporate job or I could have been outfitted in my usual away-from-work worn jeans, long sleeve tee-shirt, and high-tops "fashion statement."

I don't like parties much, so I was mostly looking for a conversation near the door so I could pretend to be polite, say "hi" and "nice to meet you" and slip out the exit and take a long walk around the neighborhood until my family was ready or willing to let me get the hell out of there. Crowds of more than three people make me nervous and there must have been fifty people crammed into that house. I was not looking to strike up a friendship or even a long conversation. I got the feeling they were hoping our introduction wouldn't waste a lot of time, either. Troy Johnson and Erin Hartman were making similar assumptions about me that I made about them. When they politely asked, "What do you ride" in response to my daughter's introduction of me as a "biker, too" they were clearly surprised when I replied "an 850 Yamaha TDM." To them, I was an old guy and they had made the logical assumption that I would be pirating along on some sort of Hardly or a Hardly look-alike. Likewise, I had made similar assumptions about them.

After we reassembled our interior stereotypes, we actually had a conversation that resulted in Troy's complaining that nobody who read the magazine ever bothered to write in with either agreement or complete disgust about anything published in the magazine. I offered to write an article that I guaranteed would create response. They offered to publish it for a nominal fee if it was any good. That article ended with "We’re, on average, a freakin’ nation of posers and squids and we aren’t worth the effort it takes to run an EPA test." The next few weeks, Troy and Erin fielded more letters to the editor than they had received "in the history of the magazine." I've been a columnist for MMM since that first brief October 1999 shot across the bow of what passes for motorcycle journalism and community.

The point, of course, is that even motorcyclists assume the worst about people who ride motorcycles. And, usually, they are right. Be honest. You are hanging out at a restaurant and this guy rides up with similar looking buddies, puts a kickstand down, and waddles into the building. What are you thinking? I know I'm going to wrap up my meal and get the hell out before one of those characters sights in on my helmet and Aerostich gear and decides to have a conversation with me. If I'm lucky, they haven't kicked over my WR or V-Strom in a little-boy "rice burner" exhibition of stupidity and bullshit fake patriotism and I can get the hell out of there without any sort of incident. For all I know these guys are all lawyers and doctors dressing up as bad boys, but I'm not looking for poser friends, ever, and there is nothing about any of the possibilities that is worth testing the waters.

When I showed this guy's picture to my wife, she said the guy who did the welding for a theme park project she designed 20-some years ago looked just like him. I looked at the early assembly of that stuff and mentioned to the project manager that they might want to hire an independent welding inspector before the frames were covered up with fiberglass artwork. I wouldn't trust my kids to something that guy had welded. I've known a few great welders and they were all as personally meticulous as they were professionally picky. If it looks like a slob, acts like a slob, and sounds like a slob, I'd assume it is a slob in all areas of life. Her "welder" was just another shop guy who'd fooled some ignorant management moron into believing he could weld "good enough."

On the other hand, I know several brilliant musicians, a few genius college professors (physics, sociology, electrical and mechanical engineering, philosophy, music, and neurology PhD's and MS's), more than a few technicians and engineers (mechanical, alternative energy, and electrical engineering), and a couple lawyers who have all of the above biker's physical and sartorial attributes except for the excess lard (although I know a brilliant Colorado lawyer who could wrap himself in that biker's "gear" without much discomfort). The problem with stereotypes is that they don't allow you to pick out the one-in-some-large-number exceptions. The reason we naturally create stereotypes ("profiles") is because they are more often than not accurate. They save us time, energy, and create some safe margin of distance from people who are often dangerous or useless.

One of my favorite recreation-reading authors, Minnesota-ex-patriot John (Camp) Sandford, is pretty typical in his "civilian" outlook on motorcyclists. In his newest book, Mad River, Sandford has one of his state cop main characters', Lucas Davenport, thinking about where you look to find criminals: "Davenport had spent the best part of two years building a database of people in Minnesota who . . . knew a lot of bad people. He had a theory that every town of any size would have bars, restaurants, biker shops, what he called 'nodes' that would attract the local assholes."In a list of three places in all of society where you might find the worst criminals "biker shops" makes the grade. Something for all of us to be proud of? Pound your chest and whine "that's not fair, we're not all assholes" as much as you like, but you know Sandford is just writing what everyone is thinking. By "everyone," I'm including us, even we think most bikers are assholes.

A Way Back for You Girliemen

For all of you lightweights who let your girlfriend or wife (or whatever other wimpy politically-correct title you give "the boss") who told you to sell the motorcycle, Aerostich has a solution: the "Magnetic Baby Onsie."

"Having a baby changes everything -- including your motorcycle riding. This new Aerostich Magnetic Baby Onsie (View action video.) helps you manage it without giving up your bike. Simply place any child within the Onsie and position it on your gas tank as if it were a magnetic tank bag. Then clip the safety leash to handlebar and ride! Prototypes have been endorsed by experts and baby-tested at over 140mph! For security and peace-of-mind it’s made of strong abrasion-resistant GORE-TEX Cordura with a full-length water-proof zipper, an internal comfort pad and three strong rare-earth magnets per side. A large strip of 3M SOLUS reflective provides nighttime conspicuity and inside is a removable, washable, fire-retardant 100% cotton fleece lining. There’s also a detachable 36” shoulder-strap to maximize off-bike portability. Available in Small (1-6 months) or Medium (6–18 months) and either Hello Kitty, Sponge Bob, California Raisin, or Spiderman-licensed styles. A Millard-Marcus-Rebeka product. View action video."

I only wish I had a kid to test this with. Can I borrow yours?

Free Helmet Contest

If you're a bad biker sort of guy/girl, Jafrum: The Motorcycle Gear Experts are giving away four $250 Bell Rogue Helmets on April 8, 2013: Bell Rogue Helmet Giveaway.

For the fun of it, they have the 26 of the Craziest Motorcycle Helmets You'll Ever See blog entry. There are some seriously sick, but very artistic, minds out there.

To Countersteer or Not to Countersteer

Years ago, I saw a picture of King Kenny coming out of a corner on his 500cc Yamaha MotoGP bike with the bars turned hard countersteering through the turn and his eyes solidly pointed in the opposite direction of the bike's travel. For once, the King wasn't sliding but he was clearly pushing the limits of his motorcycle way past anything Yamaha had designed for. In that same article, one of Kenny's mechanics talked about Kenny pushing on the bars so hard that he bent normal tube steel bars, so they resorted to solid aluminum bar stock so he could make it through a race with straight bars.

Of course, in the picture above countersteering appears to be a moot point, since the front wheel is off of the ground. Still, the fact that so many motorcyclists are still arguing about this point amazes me. Anyone capable of riding a bicycle faster than 5mph knows countersteering is exactly how you turn a two-wheeled vehicle. They may not know it intellectually, but if they are staying on the road they know it intuitively.

In the example to the left, Mr. Hayden is providing a terrific demonstration of setting up a hard left by steering substantially right. It's difficult to get a great picture of countersteering in race conditions and even harder on the street because the countersteering move happens early in the turn and lasts only long enough to get the bike to lean into the turn. From then on, in normal riding situations the rider has to provide very little steering to continue the lean and is usually "steering" the bike to prevent it from leaning over further. In fact, the quickest way to terminate a turn and right lean angle is to turn toward the curve.

In the shot at right, Barry Sheene and KR are at the apex of the curve and are beginning to setup their escape route toward the next straight or another turn. Still, if you look closely you'll see that both bikes are countersteering through the turn at this point.

Possibly my all-time favorite cornering photo, at left, the supermoto rider is not only countersteering but exhibits the greatest faith in traction I've ever seen. This kind of riding is why supermotard should have been the most popular motorsport in history and the fact that it isn't says everything I want to say about motorsports fans.

The rest of the pictures on this page are just more examples of the same. If you're still unconvinced that bikes, wheels, and tires work this way, try rolling a paper cup and see which way it turns. No matter how hard you push it or what kind of surface you make this test, the cup (wheel) is going to turn toward the smaller diameter end of the cup. No divine intervention or intelligent design necessary, it's simple, predictable physics and if you're not using physics you're counting on luck or something even less likely to provide protection in a curve/swerve/evasive maneuver.

Natures loves vacuums (99.999...% of the universe is a vacuum), but truly abhors fools. This is definitely one of those tactics that you either use or lose. When Dad taught most of us how to ride a bicycle, he said "Turn the bars left and the bike will go left." We tried it and, once we got moving slightly faster than walking, the bike went right instead and we crashed. After a few scraped elbows and knees we learned that good old
Dad is a moron and we started countersteering. We've been doing it ever since.

First Ride of 2013

The video isn't what I expected, but it's still video:



Mostly, I wanted to test my new Astak ActionPro camera rig. The high for the day was 34F, but the sun was out, the sky was clear and so were the roads and I needed to ride just to remind myself why I write about motorcycles. The ActionPro did great, I didn't do so well. You'll notice that the video appears to focus on . . . my hands. First, I managed to unintentionally put the camera in still photo mode instead of video mode. After I got that, accidentally, straightened out, the mount slipped because I didn't tighten it up nearly enough. So, I got to look at high res pictures of my hands and the front wheel. Oh well, at least the camera worked.

Grandpa, did . . . ?

No motorcycle content, but this guy is the grandpa I want to grow up to be:

Because They're Water Soluble?

Redverz Gear Series II Motorcycle Tent

You probably didn't know you needed this product: a tent with a motorcycle garage. It turns out that there are a few versions of this silly-assed idea. The Redverz Gear Series II Expedition pictured at right costs $449 and is is a 13 1/2 pound, 3-season, 3-person, 16 3/4 foot long, "expedition grade" tent  with "anodized tent poles."

Harley-Davidson Rider's Dome Tent

As always, when a really dumb consumer product turns out to have a large, rich, and brain-dead market, you would expect Hardly to jump right in and they have. Since they are the largest manufacturer of dissolve-able motorcycles, I'm sure their product is sold purely as a service to their suck . . . customers. The Harley-Davidson Rider's Dome Tent sells for "only" $229and is slightly less dorky/cool than the Redverz Gear tent, but half the price. It is also nylon and uses fiberglass poles, presumably not-anodized. Harley's 4-person tent-plus-garage sports features like breathable mesh roof panels, front and rear doors with bug screens, inside zipper storm flaps, "clearview" windows on the rainfly, and the desperately needed "motorcycle vestibule." The whole thing weighs 12 pounds.

Finally, a company called "Catoma" sells a series of "Lone Rider Adventure Shelters Motorcycle tents" that Sears sells to the poncho biker crowd (Yep, that's a Frank Zappa reference.). I'm not gonna bother with a picture of that company's silly shit because Lone Riders apparently only need normal popup tents with a trendy name.

Aerostich Ultralight Bike Cover covering my fully-loaded V-Strom.

Unless you desperately feel the need to sleep with your bike, you might know that I've recommended the Aerostich Ultralight Bike Covers (I use small for the WR250X and large for the full-bagged and ready-to-tour V-Strom 650) in a previous life on this very blog. You can't sleep with your bike using one of these covers, but it will keep your gear dry on the seat during some pretty nasty weather. I know, I've tested it under conditions that practically floated away my North Face tent..

Acronyms and Jargon

All Rights Reserved © 2012 Thomas W. Day

Every human activity that wants to pretend to be "professional" disguises itself with acronyms and jargon. I've found that the more psycho-babble a "profession" uses, the more likely what it does is simple and accessible for ordinary people. I spent a good bit of my life in manufacturing and, when I was a manufacturing engineering manager, I banned acronyms from meetings and interdepartmental conversation. I refused to bother to remember what JIT, QA and QC, CA, ROI, SMT, ATE, and a bunch of other silly terms stood for. Just say "just in time," "quality assurance" or "quality control," "cost analysis," "return on investment," "surface mount technology," "automatic test equipment," or whatever thing or activity you're trying to describe. Nobody but other fools are impressed with the list of alphabet collections you've memorized. People who are interested in fixing problems need clear communications, not techno-babble.

When I was sentenced to ten years in medical devices, for my previous poor career choices, I stepped into a whole new world of mis-communications. The thing that popped out over time was the realization that doctors are no more special than engineers or politicians or motorcyclists. Some are really talented and some are so bad that they shouldn't be allowed to prescribe aspirin without adult supervision. The absolute worst cardiologist I ever stood next to in a surgical environment spoke exclusively in series of acronyms, most of which had no relationship to each other and made no more sense than a tele-evangelist "speaking in tongues." The dude cut himself with his scalpel and used a string of acronyms to bitch at his nurse for handing him a sharp knife.

Pretty much anyone who lives in the computer software design world speaks techno-babble. The obvious result is the ill-mannered, user-hostile, virus-laden bugware we all use at work, on the internet, and at home. Video and audio people love acronyms and jargon more than pictures and music. In fact, I think every technology uses these useless non-words to complicate admission into the "club." The upside is that after you've spent the time to learn the jargon, you'll have discovered it was not worth the effort. I think that's an upside.

Motorcycling is starting to develop some motorcycle acronyms, which bothers me. AGAT, for example, is a really bad idea. We should say it loud and proud; all the gear, all the time. Hiding this critical idea behind an acronym is a terrible idea. We need all of the All the Gear, All the Time members we can get. The brand acronyms are the worst; HD (Hundred Dollars . . . for everything from bandanas to oil filters), KTM (Keep Taking Money), and BMW (Broke My Wallet) for example. Clearly disrespectful and divisive. The acronyms of our organizations are just as uninformative and often misinterpreted: ABATE is often mistaken for Always Beer At The Event, for example. The AMA is often confused with the American Medical Association, which really pisses off the docs when bikers show up at one of their tony events. Goofy riders are called SQUIDs, the best interpretation of which is Stupidly Quick, Underdressed and Imminently Dead. The MSF appears to be totally fascinated with acronyms, SEE, FINEC, BRC, ERC, BRC II, and all sorts of secret code letters I can never remember. Lucky for me all the other instructors remember that stuff. I just concentrate on not screwing up my demos and keeping the SQUIDs from killing themselves or other students.

It might be obvious by now, I'm totally unsuited for any activity that requires an ability to remember what a few loosely associated capital letters might mean. In fact, I'm usually inclined to think about something else when I'm expected to know that kind of crap. I can't help but think of these little inside "jokes" as disinformation. While words have meanings and can even hurt us more than sticks and stones, acronyms don't mean squat unless you're in on the joke. As my kids would happily tell anyone who asks, I'm never on the inside of anything. They won't even let me park next to "hip." So, yeah, maybe it's sour grapes but I'm going to continue pretending to avoid acronyms and jargon while everyone else knows that I'm just a clueless goof. No change there, right?

Fixin' What Ain't Broke

Sometimes I wonder what goes through the heads of the average consumer? Take, for example, cable television. Why the hell would anyone pay a nickel for dozens of channels of "reality" crap, extended sales pitches, recycled network sitcoms, and 1950's programming? What moron doesn't know that all of that crap is free over the air? Originally, cable television was promoted as being commercial free, but today cable station commercials are longer than they are on the networks. What do you get for $85/month: HBO, mind-numbingly repetitive sports, Starz, Showtime, and repeats of the same 4 movies for a week. Since 99% of all movies are worse than reality television, that seems more like a punishment than a reward.

The REVIT Sand 2 Jacket.

Motorcycle gear appears to be going through a similar silly phase. The silly consumer was perfectly portrayed on a recent ADVRider thread when a wannabe wrote, "Aerostich's gear is superb but outdated. Maybe somebody else knows for sure, but most of what they sell appears to be circa 1985 or so. Motorcycle gear has come a long way since the Roadcrafter, Darien, and Combat Touring boots were invented. I'd love to see Aerostich modernize that stuff." Apparently, Aerostich isn't sticking on enough pockets and cupholders for this dude. A knockoff Chinese brand, Rev'IT, appears to have tripped this guy's trigger, which pretty much says all there is to say about his standards: trend over function.

 

The classic Darien Jacket, circa 2013.

Any gear is better than none, of course. Today, even the worst gear that tries to imitate the Aerostich Darien is better than everything except racing leathers from a few years back. And let's face it, everything that looks like a Darien is imitating a Darien. Outside of the canvas stuff from Belstaff, Aerostich pretty much invented modern motorcycle weather-resistant gear. While this douche bag imgaines that the Darien has been locked in 1985, I'm here to tell you that the first generation of this totally original product bears practically no resemblance to the current well-refined and massively practical gear. I owned one of the early versions and while it was state-of-a-brand-new-art, it sucked compared to my current Aerostich gear. For one, Goretex was a ways from being waterproof in 1985.



While I'm a regular maintenance guy, I'm not a fan of fixing things that aren't broke. My day-gig exposes me to a crap-load of people who believe that skill-lessly hacking into functioning gear to "improve" its performance  by mangling specifications and measurable characteristics. As a tech/engineer this whole perspective makes me want to move to my Montana hermit's cave and avoid contact with human beings until the big-asteroid Apocalypse settles the whole issue. The modern Aerostich-knock-offs are laden with silly shit that is more likely to be dangerous than useful. Belts and buckles, for example, are dangerous on a motorcycle. The only person who thinks multiple straps on a jacket is a good idea is someone who has never slid down a gravel road on his ass stuck to a 500 pound motorcycle by a damn bootstrap or belt tangled in some protrusion of the motorcycle. "Slow is smooth, smooth is fast," and smooth is also tangle-free. All those useless pockets make me nervous, too, for a totally different reason. With dozen pockets available to me on my Darien, I'm constantly losing shit; like my keys. I have been known to drive back 100 miles, convinced I'd lost something precious, only to find it in a pocket I use once a decade. Do not tell me I need more pockets. I'm warning you.

After giving me a lecture just like the ADVRider psycho-jabber a few years back, a friend decided to put his money where his mouth lived and bought a few bits of trendy looking made-in-China crap. The stuff lasted about 10,000 miles and two seasons before it bleached out, began to fray everywhere, and began to unravel itself everywhere from the multitude of unnecessary, weather-unresistant pockets to the seams that held the zippers in place. My 6-year-old Darien rig is still as water-resistant, tough, and practical as it was 110,000 miles ago and my new Darien is even tougher, more comfortable, better fitting, and more water-tight. I didn't really need a new suit, but it started with a brain fart and ended with $700 out the door and a 2nd set of riding gear. My excuse would be hi-viz. It would be a better excuse if the pants weren't black.

The Darien armor works. The hip pads and back armor are, I'll admit, expensive and big but I've fallen on my prosthetic ass hard a couple of times and it remains unbent. I've slid down the trail on my butt and back and not only did the Darien hold up but I didn't even get a bruise out of the ordeal. I'm old and I bruise easily. Hell, I break pretty damn easily.

So the gear costs a little extra. No CEO is getting rich from cheap Chinese labor or idiotically designed import laws that encourage companies to create jobs outside of the US. In fact, Andy Goldfine might be the most underpaid executive in American industry. He and his staff are all crazy people who would rather make great motorcycle gear and live in [gulp] the frozenest of all of the frozen woods of Duluth than go the usual route and pay $0.50/day for labor and cut rates on cheap and defective materials. If that bothers you, don't whine to me when your job gets Bain Capital'd into history. You deserve the misery you've asked for.

[Note: Yes I'm pissed off. This one has been boiling in my gut for a while.]