Two funny (at least to me) bike related videos:
Saturday, July 11, 2009
My Poor Neglected Blog!
My poor blog has suffered from neglect! Oh, well, I guess it's time to make it suffer from my quirks and eccentricities again.
I moved to NorCal from SoCal since my last blog (that is a story for another blog). The transition has had several unexpected complications that the wifey and I never really considered. One of the complications was the fact that my lovely motorcycle, the R1, broke a pretty major part since I left it in storage due to the sorting out all of the other complications of the move.
Well, let me back up a litte. The R1 part didn't just break because of storage. A lot of it has to do with the fact that the R1 is an 11 year-old bike running on still mostly stock parts. Plus, the fact that I rode out in the canyons on the fast side of slow for the majority of the time I owned the bike (6 years now, I think) with parts best suited for a, let's see, 160 pounder while I weighed at least 50 to 60 pounds more. The storage just exacerbated/accelerated matters.
I took the R1 out of storage about a month ago after over 6 months of storage to ride it to work since a squiddy diva newbie rider co-worker of mine kept bugging me to see it. Everything was fine until I realized a mile from home that the pogo stick action I was experiencing with the rear suspension wasn't a figment of my imagination or the bike still not having warmed up yet. On top of that, there was enough smoke coming off the bottom portion of the exhaust in the undertray to signal war.
I work a little over three miles of home so by the time I settled on the fact that the bike was indeed somehow broken, I was closer to work than I was to home so I just rode it. I rode it because I figured the problem really was a broken rear shock with broken seals that was leaking fluid onto the hot exhaust. Once I got to work, I got off the bike, looked at the shock, and sure enough it was slowly bleeding. That, along with the pogo stick thing going, spelled the death of my rear shock.
That complication lead to a whole other set of questions. Where do I bring my bike for repairs? I brought my bike to Lee's Cycle in San Diego for so long but I was in NorCal now and I didn't know where to go. Do I just get the rear shock fixed back to stock or do I have finally modified to suit my weight and riding preferences? Stock would be cheapest but I've been dreaming of a suspension upgrade since I first started to ride the canyons on the R1 and on my SV650 (Jojo and Marissa, are you guys still taking care of the SV?).
After some research and investigation (which consisted of googling, trolling forums, bugging my friends for recommendations, hitting up the local parts store folks, and talking to anybody at bike shops that didn't seem to squiddis), I came up with a short list of folks to hit up: Lindemann Engineering, Dan Kyle, and Catalyst Suspension. These three places all had impeccable reputation. There was no clear cut recommendation between the three as each had there die-hard fan base who swore by each of them.
As someone smarter than I figured, it always comes down to two things when you're shopping for any service provider, whether it be a doctor, dentist, mechanic, or whatever: price and personality. I called Dan Kyle's shop first as he was the closest. His shop used an Ohlin's shock and propietary front springs and valves and the price was right about where I expected it to be. In terms of personality, Dan was very knowledgeable and had the air of authority you would expect from someone with his experience. I called Catalyst but I don't I actually talked to Dave Moss. Catalyst had some choices for shock and fork parts and the price was actually what I expected. People at the shop were nice enough. I called Lindemann Engineering. First, the price was nearly half what people quoted and then Jim Lindemann was incredibly down to earth and pleasant to talk with.
The whole scenario with Lindemann just couldn't be right. More affordable than the rest and the dude had the personality that fit mine. It's not that people at the other shop weren't nice. Lindemann was just a fit for what I wanted in someone to work with. Again, it couldn't be right. Turns out, the situation was right. Lindemann ends up working some suspension magic with stock internals and new springs for both the forks and shock instead of putting in all new parts. Some people poo-poo this but people swear by his work. And, Lindemann really is a nice guy even after I bugged him a couple of million times with questions.
I dropped off the bike at Lindemann Engineering and I actually have it back. There is a whole story (more like ordeal) related to picking up the bike but it had nothing to do with Lindemann. Jim and his staff remained as nice as they were since the first time I called and the bike's suspension, so far, has really improved. I'll get to those later. For now, my point I guess is that the old adage holds true. Any service always boils down to price and personality.
I moved to NorCal from SoCal since my last blog (that is a story for another blog). The transition has had several unexpected complications that the wifey and I never really considered. One of the complications was the fact that my lovely motorcycle, the R1, broke a pretty major part since I left it in storage due to the sorting out all of the other complications of the move.
Well, let me back up a litte. The R1 part didn't just break because of storage. A lot of it has to do with the fact that the R1 is an 11 year-old bike running on still mostly stock parts. Plus, the fact that I rode out in the canyons on the fast side of slow for the majority of the time I owned the bike (6 years now, I think) with parts best suited for a, let's see, 160 pounder while I weighed at least 50 to 60 pounds more. The storage just exacerbated/accelerated matters.
I took the R1 out of storage about a month ago after over 6 months of storage to ride it to work since a squiddy diva newbie rider co-worker of mine kept bugging me to see it. Everything was fine until I realized a mile from home that the pogo stick action I was experiencing with the rear suspension wasn't a figment of my imagination or the bike still not having warmed up yet. On top of that, there was enough smoke coming off the bottom portion of the exhaust in the undertray to signal war.
I work a little over three miles of home so by the time I settled on the fact that the bike was indeed somehow broken, I was closer to work than I was to home so I just rode it. I rode it because I figured the problem really was a broken rear shock with broken seals that was leaking fluid onto the hot exhaust. Once I got to work, I got off the bike, looked at the shock, and sure enough it was slowly bleeding. That, along with the pogo stick thing going, spelled the death of my rear shock.
That complication lead to a whole other set of questions. Where do I bring my bike for repairs? I brought my bike to Lee's Cycle in San Diego for so long but I was in NorCal now and I didn't know where to go. Do I just get the rear shock fixed back to stock or do I have finally modified to suit my weight and riding preferences? Stock would be cheapest but I've been dreaming of a suspension upgrade since I first started to ride the canyons on the R1 and on my SV650 (Jojo and Marissa, are you guys still taking care of the SV?).
After some research and investigation (which consisted of googling, trolling forums, bugging my friends for recommendations, hitting up the local parts store folks, and talking to anybody at bike shops that didn't seem to squiddis), I came up with a short list of folks to hit up: Lindemann Engineering, Dan Kyle, and Catalyst Suspension. These three places all had impeccable reputation. There was no clear cut recommendation between the three as each had there die-hard fan base who swore by each of them.
As someone smarter than I figured, it always comes down to two things when you're shopping for any service provider, whether it be a doctor, dentist, mechanic, or whatever: price and personality. I called Dan Kyle's shop first as he was the closest. His shop used an Ohlin's shock and propietary front springs and valves and the price was right about where I expected it to be. In terms of personality, Dan was very knowledgeable and had the air of authority you would expect from someone with his experience. I called Catalyst but I don't I actually talked to Dave Moss. Catalyst had some choices for shock and fork parts and the price was actually what I expected. People at the shop were nice enough. I called Lindemann Engineering. First, the price was nearly half what people quoted and then Jim Lindemann was incredibly down to earth and pleasant to talk with.
The whole scenario with Lindemann just couldn't be right. More affordable than the rest and the dude had the personality that fit mine. It's not that people at the other shop weren't nice. Lindemann was just a fit for what I wanted in someone to work with. Again, it couldn't be right. Turns out, the situation was right. Lindemann ends up working some suspension magic with stock internals and new springs for both the forks and shock instead of putting in all new parts. Some people poo-poo this but people swear by his work. And, Lindemann really is a nice guy even after I bugged him a couple of million times with questions.
I dropped off the bike at Lindemann Engineering and I actually have it back. There is a whole story (more like ordeal) related to picking up the bike but it had nothing to do with Lindemann. Jim and his staff remained as nice as they were since the first time I called and the bike's suspension, so far, has really improved. I'll get to those later. For now, my point I guess is that the old adage holds true. Any service always boils down to price and personality.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Strange, Just Strange
Buying a car to replace the recently stolen one was definitely an experience. Of course, there was the whole shopping part of it, but that's not what quite made it such a strange experience. What made it strange was the type of car we chose and how that choice all of sudden aged me into adulthood.
Truth be told, my car was on its way to POS status. It had dents. It had mismatched steel wheels from different brands of cars. The radio hadn't worked in months. The alarm also hadn't worked in months. The paint, formerly black, was now an urban camouflage of faded black and gray splotches. It had some dents. The interior was still nice but the car definitely showed some wear and tear.
Well, the choice of replacing it boiled down to getting another econocar to commute in (especially since my work requires a bit of driving) or buy something a bit bigger to accomodate me, the wife, and the dog and then swap that vehicle with the wife so I would end up with her older (also on its way to POS status), small car. The wife and I figured that we probably won't have too many opportunities to buy something a bit bigger (especially since, as I mentioned in my previous blog, we were planning on buying a house) so we decided to go that route.
We ended up with a used Toyota Highlander. For those of you who don't know what a Highlander is, you must be stuck under some rock because there's a million of them out there. They're Toyota's mid-size, car based SUV. So, how does a mid-size SUV age me into adulthood?
First, only my aunts and uncles buy Toyotas, especially mid-sized SUV Toyotas. I've always sworn that I was going to end up with something more hip, like a Mini Cooper S, a raised V8 truck, a Mustang, or something of the like. Instead, I buy what is essentially the badge of middle class, family-aged adults. Next time you see a Highlander on the road, check out who's driving and you'll see what I mean.
Second, the decision making behind the purchase was the decision making my aunts and uncles used to follow and I absolutely loathed. We had a choice between a V6 and a four cylinder Highlander (and a similarly priced V8 Forerunner, actually). We ended up with the four-cylinder. Why? It's better on gas. Me and the wife didn't even give performance related issues a second thought. We had a choice between a fairly well optioned one or a base model. We chose the base because it was cheaper and we figured who needed all the gadgets anyway? Did we even think of the "cool" factor that these gadgets bring? Not a thought.
Third, I'm back making car payments and it's not the relative piddly car payments I made for my old car. Granted, the payments aren't the ginormous amounts some people make (the loan person at the bank told me she recently wrote up a car loan that had a thousand dollar payments) but it was substantial than I or the wifey were making before on our econoboxes. The amount just ups the ante a bit in terms of responsibility.
So, I feel a lot older after this whole car buying process. I'm still resisting it a bit because I've always seen myself as suffering from a bit of the Peter Pan syndrome. I always told myself that I would always put fun and enjoyment as the top priority. Maybe I still am but my definition of fun and enjoyment has changed a bit? That's a topic for another blog entry.
Truth be told, my car was on its way to POS status. It had dents. It had mismatched steel wheels from different brands of cars. The radio hadn't worked in months. The alarm also hadn't worked in months. The paint, formerly black, was now an urban camouflage of faded black and gray splotches. It had some dents. The interior was still nice but the car definitely showed some wear and tear.
Well, the choice of replacing it boiled down to getting another econocar to commute in (especially since my work requires a bit of driving) or buy something a bit bigger to accomodate me, the wife, and the dog and then swap that vehicle with the wife so I would end up with her older (also on its way to POS status), small car. The wife and I figured that we probably won't have too many opportunities to buy something a bit bigger (especially since, as I mentioned in my previous blog, we were planning on buying a house) so we decided to go that route.
We ended up with a used Toyota Highlander. For those of you who don't know what a Highlander is, you must be stuck under some rock because there's a million of them out there. They're Toyota's mid-size, car based SUV. So, how does a mid-size SUV age me into adulthood?
First, only my aunts and uncles buy Toyotas, especially mid-sized SUV Toyotas. I've always sworn that I was going to end up with something more hip, like a Mini Cooper S, a raised V8 truck, a Mustang, or something of the like. Instead, I buy what is essentially the badge of middle class, family-aged adults. Next time you see a Highlander on the road, check out who's driving and you'll see what I mean.
Second, the decision making behind the purchase was the decision making my aunts and uncles used to follow and I absolutely loathed. We had a choice between a V6 and a four cylinder Highlander (and a similarly priced V8 Forerunner, actually). We ended up with the four-cylinder. Why? It's better on gas. Me and the wife didn't even give performance related issues a second thought. We had a choice between a fairly well optioned one or a base model. We chose the base because it was cheaper and we figured who needed all the gadgets anyway? Did we even think of the "cool" factor that these gadgets bring? Not a thought.
Third, I'm back making car payments and it's not the relative piddly car payments I made for my old car. Granted, the payments aren't the ginormous amounts some people make (the loan person at the bank told me she recently wrote up a car loan that had a thousand dollar payments) but it was substantial than I or the wifey were making before on our econoboxes. The amount just ups the ante a bit in terms of responsibility.
So, I feel a lot older after this whole car buying process. I'm still resisting it a bit because I've always seen myself as suffering from a bit of the Peter Pan syndrome. I always told myself that I would always put fun and enjoyment as the top priority. Maybe I still am but my definition of fun and enjoyment has changed a bit? That's a topic for another blog entry.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Plans, Just Like Rules, Are Meant To Be Broken
As is the case with most stories worth remembering, it all started benignly enough. Friday two weeks ago, I got up and took care of my usual morning routine (You know, showering, flossing, blah, blah). Afterwards, I deviated slightly from the norm by taking some time to call my friend/landlord/overall good human being/mechanic (Actually, she's sort of the shop manager/scheduler) to schedule an oil change. The car was due for one. I've been known to procrastinate on many issues in my life, and procrastination on car maintenance was definitely something I was notorious for, but circumstances have definitely forced a change in my car maintenance habit.
First, the car's getting a little bit old and a bit up there on the miles. It's a '94 with just a tick's hair under 190,000 miles. Secondly, the car has had a particularly brutal life. Most of my jobs in social services have involved a huge portion of home based services and social services being what it is, there are usually no company cars, so my car has pretty much criss-crossed the county in my efforts to be of help to other people. Third, the wife and I just agreed we were going on the financial equivalent of a prison lock down because we really wanted to buy our own home by the end of this year. The market may be bad for folks losing homes but it also means it's a good market to be buying homes (Living off of other's misfortunes; it's the free market capitalist way!). The net result of these factors was the fact that I simply could not afford to have the car breakdown and be forced into a situation where me and the wife are paying an exorbitant amount for maintenance or outright buying a newer used car.
I have to take a little (Ok, not so little) tangent before I continue the story. The work week this story took place in had been particularly painful and brutal (There goes that word again. Definitely can't shake it off when talking about working in social services). I had been working 10 to 12 hour days because timing, circumstances, cosmic karma, etc. had saddled me with three massive reports ranging from 20 to 30 pages, each being due on the same day with very little lead time to get started. The lead times were so short that I actually had to do most of the investigations (i.e. conducting interviews, collecting supporting documentation, answering phone call, etc.) for these reports the same week I was trying to write them. I came home everyday that week pretty much a zombie.
So, after having gotten ready and scheduling an oil change, I walk out of the apartment and onto the street (right in front of the apartment) where I usually parked my car. Where I thought I parked my car was an empty space. Funny enough, the space was big enough to fit my car.
Having been completely brain fried the night before, I thought I might have parked somewhere else on the block and just completely forgot about it. I looked left. I looked right. I still couldn't see the car. I called the wife over and we both walked the block. No car. My car got stolen.
Here I am, two weeks later. We have a newer used car. I haven't gotten my insurance settlement and when I do get it, it's not going to amount to much (probably won't even cover the tax we paid for the newer used car) and a prison riot has pretty much exploded on the wife and I's plan for a financial lock down. Life has a way of changing the best laid out plans.
Oh by the way, I just got a massage from one of the local massage schools. It's not the best but definitely worth the rate I paid for. More importantly, it's done wonders for my stress level. If you can afford it, definitely try it!
First, the car's getting a little bit old and a bit up there on the miles. It's a '94 with just a tick's hair under 190,000 miles. Secondly, the car has had a particularly brutal life. Most of my jobs in social services have involved a huge portion of home based services and social services being what it is, there are usually no company cars, so my car has pretty much criss-crossed the county in my efforts to be of help to other people. Third, the wife and I just agreed we were going on the financial equivalent of a prison lock down because we really wanted to buy our own home by the end of this year. The market may be bad for folks losing homes but it also means it's a good market to be buying homes (Living off of other's misfortunes; it's the free market capitalist way!). The net result of these factors was the fact that I simply could not afford to have the car breakdown and be forced into a situation where me and the wife are paying an exorbitant amount for maintenance or outright buying a newer used car.
I have to take a little (Ok, not so little) tangent before I continue the story. The work week this story took place in had been particularly painful and brutal (There goes that word again. Definitely can't shake it off when talking about working in social services). I had been working 10 to 12 hour days because timing, circumstances, cosmic karma, etc. had saddled me with three massive reports ranging from 20 to 30 pages, each being due on the same day with very little lead time to get started. The lead times were so short that I actually had to do most of the investigations (i.e. conducting interviews, collecting supporting documentation, answering phone call, etc.) for these reports the same week I was trying to write them. I came home everyday that week pretty much a zombie.
So, after having gotten ready and scheduling an oil change, I walk out of the apartment and onto the street (right in front of the apartment) where I usually parked my car. Where I thought I parked my car was an empty space. Funny enough, the space was big enough to fit my car.
Having been completely brain fried the night before, I thought I might have parked somewhere else on the block and just completely forgot about it. I looked left. I looked right. I still couldn't see the car. I called the wife over and we both walked the block. No car. My car got stolen.
Here I am, two weeks later. We have a newer used car. I haven't gotten my insurance settlement and when I do get it, it's not going to amount to much (probably won't even cover the tax we paid for the newer used car) and a prison riot has pretty much exploded on the wife and I's plan for a financial lock down. Life has a way of changing the best laid out plans.
Oh by the way, I just got a massage from one of the local massage schools. It's not the best but definitely worth the rate I paid for. More importantly, it's done wonders for my stress level. If you can afford it, definitely try it!
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Blah, Blah, Blah
At some point, writing blogs stopped being fun and started becoming work. What was originally a means of venting and at the same time staying in touch with friends became another chore to add to the list of other chores and responsibilities in my life. As most of you know, I have a weird tendency of doing exactly that, making everything I do an obsessive/compulsive pursuit of ridiculously impossible perfection. Eventually, even when I didn't feel like it, I ended up writing a blog entry because I had penned it into my organizer as a weekly activity. As with eveything that becomes a chore, I got tired of it and threw it aside.
Well, I'm back writing. I've promised myself (again, like numerous times before) that I would stop forcing myself to do this and simply write because I want to. As part of this restart, I've decided to kill the other blog I have and roll everything into this one. As some of you know, I also wrote a motorcycle-centric blog called the After Ride Report detailing some of my adventures, rants, and raves related to motorcycling. I figured motorcycling was as much a part of my quirks and eccentricities as much as the other stuff I've written about in this blog so that one's getting shut down and the After Ride Report will simply be a "feature" in this one.
Speaking of motorcycling, I haven't ridden since early last fall. I'm pretty sure that not riding has been negatively affecting my psyche as it was one of the few regular physical and outdoor activities I indulged in. I was ready to get going again but, probably as a result of global warming, the weather turned foul in sunny San Diego and my favorite riding road is actually experiencing winter like weather (snow showers, below freezing temperatures during daylight hours) in the beginning of Spring.
Riding was probably be going to be a physical pain anyway since I'm in no shape for upcoming riding season. I haven't been to the the gym (the other regular physical activity I indulged in) since early fall (What the hell was up with early fall? Oh, I know. I'll talk about it in a bit). The last two riding seasons, I had been hitting the gym regularly and my improved cardio definitely help my speed, especially when the weather was hitting a 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
The weather was definitely what stopped the riding as it isn't fun going around corners trying to touch your knee when the temperature is cold and the tires refuse to warm up. Professionals could do it or avid track day riders can but I sure don't like trying it on open, public roads. But, it wasn't the weather that stopped me from going to the gym in the early fall. It was work.
As most of you know, I work in the child abuse field. Crazy as it sounds, I actually like my job. And I think that's where the problem started in terms of the gym. The more I found my job interesting, the more time I spent working. Truth be told, it hasn't just affected my gym attendance but it's also affected every facet of my personal life because I keep finding work eating into my personal time. I guess I'm back struggling how to best balance work and life. A more experience worker told me recently, "Make your home life exciting and your work life boring," and I think the problem is that, at this time, work definitely is presenting a lot of interesting challenges that's holding my focus away from my the other parts of my life.
Anyway, I'm tired of typing. I talk more about this later.
Well, I'm back writing. I've promised myself (again, like numerous times before) that I would stop forcing myself to do this and simply write because I want to. As part of this restart, I've decided to kill the other blog I have and roll everything into this one. As some of you know, I also wrote a motorcycle-centric blog called the After Ride Report detailing some of my adventures, rants, and raves related to motorcycling. I figured motorcycling was as much a part of my quirks and eccentricities as much as the other stuff I've written about in this blog so that one's getting shut down and the After Ride Report will simply be a "feature" in this one.
Speaking of motorcycling, I haven't ridden since early last fall. I'm pretty sure that not riding has been negatively affecting my psyche as it was one of the few regular physical and outdoor activities I indulged in. I was ready to get going again but, probably as a result of global warming, the weather turned foul in sunny San Diego and my favorite riding road is actually experiencing winter like weather (snow showers, below freezing temperatures during daylight hours) in the beginning of Spring.
Riding was probably be going to be a physical pain anyway since I'm in no shape for upcoming riding season. I haven't been to the the gym (the other regular physical activity I indulged in) since early fall (What the hell was up with early fall? Oh, I know. I'll talk about it in a bit). The last two riding seasons, I had been hitting the gym regularly and my improved cardio definitely help my speed, especially when the weather was hitting a 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
The weather was definitely what stopped the riding as it isn't fun going around corners trying to touch your knee when the temperature is cold and the tires refuse to warm up. Professionals could do it or avid track day riders can but I sure don't like trying it on open, public roads. But, it wasn't the weather that stopped me from going to the gym in the early fall. It was work.
As most of you know, I work in the child abuse field. Crazy as it sounds, I actually like my job. And I think that's where the problem started in terms of the gym. The more I found my job interesting, the more time I spent working. Truth be told, it hasn't just affected my gym attendance but it's also affected every facet of my personal life because I keep finding work eating into my personal time. I guess I'm back struggling how to best balance work and life. A more experience worker told me recently, "Make your home life exciting and your work life boring," and I think the problem is that, at this time, work definitely is presenting a lot of interesting challenges that's holding my focus away from my the other parts of my life.
Anyway, I'm tired of typing. I talk more about this later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
