Dyna Update!

Fork seals

Ugh. Hydraulic forks are the best... until they're not. Most people will ride their motorcycles for years without ever even servicing them. The maintenance is pretty straightforward, most of the routine services simply require draining the old fluid and replacing it with fresh stuff, which, in a lot of cases, can be done without even taking the forks off the bike. Most fork seals last for years, and for thousands of miles, as long as the fork tubes are kept clean and free of debris.

But if you're a project hunter, like me, who can't turn down a great deal on a bike that needs a little love, chances are, you're gonna be doing a helluva lot more than simply swapping fluid. I've got two such bikes sitting in my garage, right now. One, is an '06 Sportster that I picked up for less than $2k a few years ago, and the other is an '11 Dyna Street Bob that I added to the stable a couple years later. Both of them were complete, but in deplorable condition- rust and corrosion was rampant on both, neither was running and both of them had been neglected for several years. But... I got them cheap and trusted myself with being able to get them back on the road, which I did. 

Both bikes have been awesome, but both have had the common issue of fork seal leakage, in part because I half-assed the job the first time on both bikes. Let me explain.

Sporty

When I first got the Sportster, the fork tubes were obviously roached. They were pitted with rust from top to bottom. The sliders were fine, but the tubes were simply beyond repair. Where I half-assed it, was I stupidly went on eBay in an attempt to save a few bucks and bought a set of used tubes that were significantly better than mine. With a new set of Genuine James Gasket seals and my new used tubes, I put her back together with some fresh 10w oil and she was good to go, for a few years anyway. After a few years of riding, one of the seals sprung a, very minor, leak. It was just minor enough to make me doubt if it was actually leaking, but after a few months, I realized that I was going to be doing a fork seal job again. 

Dyna

When I first picked up the Dyna- a 2011 FXDB Street Bob- I already had some knowledge of the bike's history. I bought it from a friend who, several years earlier, had bought it from a local Harley-Davidson dealership. He was the second owner of the bike and I was actually with him when he bought it. As it turned out, he didn't ride the bike as much as he thought he would and it ended up sitting in his driveway under a bike cover... for years. I hadn't seen the bike since he bought it and had no idea how bad of condition it was in before I agreed to buy it. It really didn't matter to me though, because for the price he was asking, it was worth it. When I first saw the bike, I was in awe of how bad it was. For a bike that was only 7 years old with less than 10k miles, it looked as if it had been abandoned in a field for a decade. I guess that's a drawback of living in the south, near the Gulf of Mexico- the salty, humid air makes short work of corroding metal. The ethanol based gasoline did it's own damage to the inside of the fuel tank, but that's a story for another day. 

The fork tubes didn't look too bad at first glance- the uppers were a little spotty, but the lower sides looked fine, even though they were both leaking. I assumed that the seals were leaking due to being dry rotted, and I wasn't completely wrong, so in my eagerness to ride the bike, I bought a set of Genuine James fork seals for it, then tore it down and put it all back together in an afternoon. I was stoked to ride it... for a few hours anyway. I assumed that the problem was with the seals, since I had previously installed a set of the same brand on the Sporty and they were now leaking after only a couple of years of riding. In my frustration, I cussed the Genuine James Gasket Company for all they were worth, then went online to do some research.

The Sporty fork saga, continued

Having had my fill of frustrations with the James Gasket seals, all my research pointed me to ordering a set of All Balls Racing seals for my trusty little XL. Once I got it tore down, however, I quickly realized that the seals weren't the problem. Apparently, something (probably sand, since I live near, and often ride beside, a beach) had gotten under the dust seal and made a nice little scratch on one of the tubes. The eBay tubes, if I'm guessing by their appearance, were most likely show chrome which is pretty, but not the most durable for a machine that is ridden a lot, so I bit the bullet and ordered a set of new hard chrome tubes, made by Hard Drive. I put it all back together with some 15w, for a little better dampening. She rides better than a new bike now...with no leaks!

The daggum Dyna

I like this damn bike, a lot, but boy it sure makes me cuss sometimes. After getting the new seals, I tore the forks down and, after a quick inspection of the tubes, put it all back together with the new All Balls Racing seals. Success! No more leaking! I was ecstatic... such a simple fix... 

...or so I thought.

Within about a month of riding, that familiar old bead of oil showed up on the high side tube again. I put the bike back on the lift, pulled it apart for what felt like the hundredth time, and inspected it like a jeweler inspecting a diamond. All of a sudden, I saw it- a small, barely noticeable, chip in the chrome, just above where the seal sets when the bike is at rest. The chip was small, only about a millimeter in diameter and was barely discolored, making it hard to spot with a quick visual inspection. The location was such that, when the bike was rolling on relatively smooth roads, the seal didn't cross over the chip, but when the fork compressed under a harder bump, the seal crossed the chip and a tiny bit of oil would leak past. 

As I dragged my fingernail across the chip, I felt it catch the edge and at that moment, I knew that I had, now twice, cussed the Genuine James Gasket Company in error. Oops... sorry guys.

I did my best to try to smooth and polish out the chip, to no avail- it continued leaking, so I called my local indie shop, French & Son's, and ordered a new set of Hard Drive hard chrome tubes and a new set of All Balls fork seals. Once I had them back in the shop, I put the Street Bob back on the lift, tore it down for what felt like the millionth time, and went to work. Having pulled the forks apart so many times, it didn't take me long to install the new tubes and seals. I topped it all off with some fresh 15w fork oil, put it all back together and rolled it off the lift... again. This time it's (finally) fixed and now it rides better than a new bike, too. 

The lesson learned

My dad used to tell me that if you're going to do something, do it right the first time. Well, for the Sportster, the biggest mistake I made was trying to save a few bucks by buying a set of cheap, used fork tubes. In my defense, they lasted a few years before they got scratched. That could have happened to anyone, I suppose, but by buying the tubes used from an individual, I had no specs on them and ended up buying a set of nice looking, but not very durable, show chrome fork tubes that were susceptible to getting scratched. With the Dyna, however, I'll admit that I half-assed it from the jump. I should have taken the time to inspect the fork tubes before I ever put it back together the very first time, but I was trying to save time and money so that could get back to riding the bike as quickly as possible. In doing so, I ended up having to do the job, way more times than I should have. Besides the aggravation, I also wasted valuable time and money on seals and oil. 

Now that both of the bikes are back together, I can focus on actually riding them. Maybe, while I'm out riding, I'll stumble across another project bike that I can tinker with. One thing's for sure though, if I do get my hands on another crusty project, I won't be cutting any corners when dealing with hydraulic fork tubes... I might just go with a springer front end, instead!

Regardless of what you might find yourself working on next, remember this:

If you do it right the first time, you'll only have to do it one time. 

Piglet

Soichiro Honda 

Soichiro Honda, circa 1964

Three years after William Harley and his partners, Walter, William and Arthur Davidson rolled out their very first motorcycle in Milwaukee, a child named Soichiro Honda was born on the other side of the world. Soichiro grew up around his dad's bicycle shop and, in 1928, at 25 years old, the young man opened his own auto repair shop. Captivated by speed, Soichiro built his very first race car and started competing. In 1936, however, when Harley and his pals were introducing their brand new Knucklehead engine in Milwaukee, USA, Mr. Honda was injured in the opening race at Japan's first racetrack, the Tamagawa Speedway; the next year, he gave up racing and formed a company to manufacture piston rings, supplying them primarily to Toyota. His new company's success would be short lived though, because just four years later, the Japanese government authorized an attack on Pearl Harbor, setting the stage for the bombings that would soon end the second World War and would alter the young man's business plans once again.

In 1946, just one year after his country was nearly obliterated by the infamous bombings that killed hundreds of thousands of Soichiro Honda's fellow countrymen, he started a new business, focused primarily on providing affordable transportation to those left behind. Honda did this by fitting small, two-stroke motors onto bicycles- sound familiar? Three years later, in  1949, Honda's very first actual motorcycle rolled out of the factory and quickly earned the name "Dream." The very first Honda Dream, or "Model D" as it was officially called, was powered by a 98cc two stroke engine, but Soichiro felt like the noise and smoke from the Dream made it more of a nightmare, so in 1951, his company introduced the new, quieter and cleaner, four stroke Dream. The new machine boasted a 146cc engine and it's popularity surged, putting Honda's motorcycle company on the map.

Fast forward to 1968- Soichiro's company rolls out it's 10 millionth motorcycle, proving to the world that the man from Hamamatsu, Japan had become a formidable businessman and a force to be reckoned with. In 1973, with his company well established, Soichiro retired at the age of 67. Soichiro continued working with his company as an advisor, and served on the Board of Directors, so he could keep his finger on the pulse of his company to ensure it's success.

  

Original ad from 1978

In 1978, among the 27 models of motorcycle that Honda offered, the company introduced a new entry level machine- the CM185 Twinstar. The Twinstar was a small, but elegant bike that was refined and smooth, friendly and reliable. It was a twin cylinder four stroke that breathed quietly out of two chrome megaphone exhaust pipes and started easily with either the kick-starter or the electric starter. The Twinstar was adorned with chrome fenders, a seat big enough for two, passenger pegs, a grab bar, a locking gas cap cover and, it had a neutral riding position that was pretty comfortable for such a small motorcycle. Thousands of Twinstars were sold across the world in 1978, but there was one in particular that was sold in Ohio, USA, that would be the subject of this story.

And this is where our story truly begins...

"Piglet"

Sometime around 1995 My wife's folks took a trip to Ohio to visit some family and, while visiting with his nephew, my father-in-law noticed a small, blue Honda motorcycle tucked away in the corner of the barn. My wife's folks were doing quite a lot of travelling in their RV back then, so the prospect of finding a small, economical motorcycle to tool around on really sparked my father-in-law's interest. As it turns out, his nephew got the little blue Honda brand new, back in 1978. He rode it for a few years, then parked it in the barn and pretty much forgot about it, so it didn't take much convincing for him to sell it to his favorite uncle. My pa-in-law got the old Twinstar running again, then loaded it up in the back of his truck and he and my mother-in-law started writing the next chapter of the old Honda's life. And what a life it was. My wife's parents lovingly named the old Honda "Piglet" (because it wasn't quite big enough to be called a "Hog") and they took it all over the place- Tennessee, Niagra Falls, New York, Canada, the West Coast and everywhere in-between. Everywhere they parked their home away from home, Piglet got unloaded and they would set out exploring the area on the old Honda. 

After a few years of travelling, Piglet started getting tired and the folks decided that they wanted something a little bigger (and more comfortable than a motorcycle) to get around on during their travels, so they upgraded to a diesel coach and started pulling a car to the campgrounds. Piglet got parked back in a barn, where it would stay, untouched, for over 16 years. 

New life

My father-in-law and I had a mutual love for antique cars, hot rods and motorcycles and we could sit and talk about them for hours. He also knew that both of my sons were up and coming gearheads and that they were just as interested in riding motorcycles as their dad. When my father-in-law decided to clear some space in his barn for a new project, he knew that all he needed to do was offer us his old motorcycles. As soon as he asked us to come get them, my boys ran over as fast as they could! It was this fateful day that would ultimately breathe new life into that old Twinstar, yet again. Being a Harley guy, I was pretty unfamiliar with the Honda, so I enlisted the help of a good friend of mine to help me get Piglet running right. It didn't take my buddy long to get the old Honda back to her old self again and the mood was absolutely electric when he brought it back to the house. Soon after, I started teaching my oldest son how to ride the little street bike. It wasn't long before he had the hang of it, so he moved on to riding my Sportster and my youngest boy took the controls of the old Honda. 

Before he passed last year, my father-in-law got to see both of his grandsons learn how to ride a motorcycle on the very same bike that he and his beloved wife used to ride when they were out exploring the country; the same bike that his brother's son started out riding, all those many years ago. 

Value versus worth

We often confuse what something is worth by it's market value. Market value is generally based on a variety of things, but most of all- it's based on what someone is willing to pay for something. The Honda Twinstar played an important role in the history of Honda motorcycles and it is often overlooked for it's contributions. For example, the Twinstar started it's life in 1978 and over the next several years, it would get a bump in displacement to 200cc, then in 1982, it got bumped up again to 250cc. This new CM250 would later become the well known and widely loved, Honda Rebel. Countless motorcycle riders have learned to ride on a Honda Rebel and many still do. The Rebel has become so popular in fact, that Honda increased the displacement again to 300cc, then 500cc and now, diehard Rebel fans can get their beloved Honda with an 1100cc mill! 

While this old 185cc Twinstar may not be worth much to anyone else, to the MotoWriter and family, this unimposing and otherwise unimpressive little Honda, is priceless. It has been in our family since the day it left Soichiro Honda's factory in 1978 and it has travelled all across this great nation and into Canada during it's 43 year lifetime. For every generation that it has carried, and will carry, on its modest little frame, this old Honda Twinstar has secured it's place in the MotoWriter garage as one of the most valuable motorcycles, if only inside these four walls.

No matter what you do or what kind of bike you ride, have fun and make the best of it, because your actions today will be your memories tomorrow and we only get 75 good years to make the best of this life.

Ride Safe and make good choices!

Piglet, with OEM mirrors and the factory front fender replaced

  

Not quite a Hog... more like a Piglet

My youngest son, learning the ropes on Piglet

My oldest son, taking Piglet out on the road

Funny story about this one... to be told later

My oldest boy replacing fork seals

My baby boy, taking his first ride on Piglet

My boys astride their respective steeds

BOTM Template Do you want to see your bike featured as the MotoWriter's Bike of the Month? Email me in your high-res photos and your personal motorcycle story to me and, if I pick your bike, not only will you get some pretty rad bragging rights, but you'll also receive a small bit of swag to show off your support of the MotoWriter! Thanks for all your support!

April Bike of the Month....

Whose bike will be featured? Send your submissions and it might be YOURS!

motowriter74@gmail.com

Spring is here and the weather is perfect for riding! 

Ride safe and make good choices, everybody!

www.TheMotoWriter.com

BIKE OF THE MONTH!

January 2021

For the very first (and hopefully not last) Bike of the Month feature here on The MotoWriter.com, I present to you, the MotoWriter's January 2021, Bike of the Month... 

Lee's 2014 Indian Chief Vintage!

My good friend, Lee picked up his beautiful, Springfield Blue Indian Chief Vintage as soon as Polaris released the revived brand into dealerships in 2014, which just happened to be the same year that Lee retired from the United Stated Navy with over 20 years of service to our country. Lee and his family moved back to Mainland, USA from his last duty station in Rota, Spain in 2014 and dropped their gear in the great state of Texas. When Lee got back to the Lone Star State, he was bike-less, because he had to leave his beloved 2006 Harley-Davidson Dyna Street Bob, aptly nicknamed "El Fuego", behind in Spain when the Navy shipped him back home. While Lee loved his Dyna, he had been anticipating the release of the new Indians since he first heard that Polaris had bought the rights to the Indian name and was planning on resurrecting America's First Motorcycle Company. It's only fitting that Lee would buy an Indian Chief Vintage, after all, the name "Chief" was very special to him, you see- Lee honorably retired from the U.S. Navy, at the rank of Chief. 

When Lee picked up his new Indian, he immediately started racking up the miles. He was riding his Chief Vintage all over Texas and even made a trip to South Mississippi to visit his ole buddy- yours truly. As a matter of fact, the day that he rode over, we took our bikes up the highway to Hattiesburg, so that he could get his first service done. As it turned out, we would only ride together one more time before he got offered a job back in Spain. Shortly after getting back to Rota, Lee quickly unpacked the Chief and set out to racking up the miles, or rather- the kilometers. In the past 6 years, Lee's Indian Chief Vintage has taken him through 11 countries, 5 of which he knocked out in a single trip, earning him the Iron Butt Association's "Saddlesore 1000" certificate, for riding at least 1,000 miles in 24 hours.

During another summer abroad, Lee took advantage of his ability to ride through multiple countries, by riding into France, then taking the Chunnel into the United Kingdom, riding through England, Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland and Ireland. Most recently, before the country locked down again due to the resurgence of COVID-19, Lee was able to take his Chief on an 8 day trip, circumnavigating Spain. In all, Lee has racked up a whopping 100,000 kilometers (that's a little over 62k miles for the rest of us). That's an awful lot of riding, considering the fact that he works a full time job and lives in a country that is smaller than the state of Texas. 

Upgrades and Goodies

Lee's Chief Vintage remains mostly stock, with the most significant upgrades being a set of 16" ape hangers, a Stage 1 kit complete with hi-flow intake, those classic fishtail pipes and a Dynojet fuel controller, rear air shock, color-matched tank console, aftermarket windshield, a heated seat to keep him toasty on those cool Spanish nights, and a Kuryakyn Road Thunder soundbar to provide some toe-tapping tunes to help the miles pass by a little easier. Up next on Lee's list of upgrades is going to be a set of Cuztomkraft amber afterburner tail light lenses. Being in Spain, the availability and accessibility of aftermarket parts can be a little tricky as compared to living in the States, so a lot of the goodies he's added to the Chief have been ordered from all over the world, with the latest order coming in from Australia.

It's not what you ride

Lee and I share the common belief that, it's not what you ride, but rather, that you ride. You see, Lee and I both grew up in working class homes and we learned at a very young age that it doesn't matter what you have- as long as you're happy. Lee and I both started out riding old, ratty street bikes- I had an old Kawasaki EX500 and he had an old Honda Interceptor 500 and, at the time, we felt like the coolest kids on our respective blocks. Of course, as the years went by and we started enjoying some success in our individual careers, our bikes got much better. Lee has owned a variety of bikes to include a Suzuki, an Aprilia, a Harley-Davidson and now an Indian. He routinely organizes and leads group rides around the Navy base in Rota which often consist of every make and model of motorcycle available in the area. Following one of the most basic rules of motorcycle group riding, he and the rest of the group simply ride to the skill level and ability of the weakest rider on the smallest bike. Being an MSF instructor for the base in Rota, Lee understands the importance of teaching new riders the skills they need, so that one day they will be able to carve the corners of some random, mountain road and stay safe when doing it, just like Lee does, on his 2014 Indian Chief Vintage. 

Check out more pics of Lee's 2014 Indian Chief Vintage, here:

STOP ASKING WHY!

WHY!?!?

How often do you hear someone ask "why"? Of all of the inquisitives, "why" has to be the most frustrating. Let me explain...

Who, what, when, where and how are all pretty basic. These words often seek facts or some other, relative and tangible answer. For example:

• "Who is The MotoWriter?" Easy, that's me; 

• "What was my first Harley-Davidson? Another easy one- a 2009 Road King Classic. 

• "When did I learn that I had a knack for writing?" A little tougher, but somewhere around 1999-2000.

• "Where do I ride, most often?" Most of my riding is done on the backroads of the tri-state area of Mississippi, Louisiana and Alabama.

• "How do I come up with new ideas? I draw my inspiration from the world around me- my family, my friends... even my socafriends. 

But the "why" questions- WHY do I write? WHY do I ride? WHY do I write about motorcycle stuff? WHY do I make these silly videos?- all of the "why" questions seek the more abstract answers and, as any parent of a toddler knows, the series of "why" questions are never ending.

Why ask why?

WHY do you even bother asking WHY in the first place? What is it you hope to learn from it? If you're a cop or a psychologist, I get the reasoning for asking why someone did something... after all, learning what their motive is could potentially help explain, at least in part, their actions and maybe even reveal some justification for it. I suppose that could be the case for anyone really, but let's face it, we mostly just ask why because we love to torture ourselves with the absence of a justifiable motive or any sense of reasoning for what happened. For example, "why didn't I listen to the advice that person gave me", "why did my dog run away", "why did I let that person take advantage of my kindness" or this big one- "why did that person have to die?" None of these questions have any reasonable, tangible answer... none that we want to hear, anyway. So, WHY even bother asking the question in the first place?

Have some faith

At some point, we have to trust in God and realize that we are only in control of our own actions. The world is not here to serve our whims, but rather, it is a place that we have been given an opportunity to explore, to live in, to build our lives and our families in, to ride our motorcycles through, and yes, even die in. At best, we have 75 good years on this earth. I can't tell you how long I have left, but I can tell you that I sure as hell don't want to know. I'd rather have death sneak up on me (preferably a lot later in life) and take me into the darkness suddenly and without warning, than to know that I have a certain amount of time left. Having faith can be difficult, keeping it can be even more so, especially when you question things that are out of your control.

What if...

This is another one that is frustrating when asked negatively, but that will be for another day and another post. Sometimes though, we can "what if" a situation for a more positive outlook. For example, "what if the reason why my buddy's bike broke down when it did, was so that we could avoid a serious crash, just up the road?" Asking "what if" could actually be a lot more comforting than asking "why" if it's asked the right way.

So, I'll ask you guys this- what if you stopped asking why something, that was out of your control, happened? What if you just accepted that life is unpredictable and unscripted? What if we all started accepting each other for who we are and what we believe and stopped trying to force each other to conform to our beliefs? What if we start living our lives like we give a damn about what we are doing to the future generations? What if we all start taking personal responsibility for our mistakes and start learning from them, instead of casting aspersions on everyone else, as if our failures are somehow someone else's fault? 

What if we all learned to just start being nicer to each other? I don't know about you guys, but that would be pretty damned great to me.

Cruisin' The Coast, 2020!

The 24th Anniversary 

2020 marks the 24th anniversary of the event dubbed "America's Largest Block Party." Cruisin' The Coast is a week-long event that draws thousands of antique and classic cars, motorcycles, rat rods, street rods and one-off customs from all over the country and abroad. Car enthusiasts come to the Mississippi Coast in droves, just to enjoy cruising their prized possessions along US Highway 90 from Ocean Springs to Bay St. Louis during the first week of October. Every city along the coastline has special events to host the cruisers, all starting with Gulfport's "View The Cruise" kickoff block party. The City of Gulfport blocks off the entire downtown central business district so that the cruisers can bring their cars in and show them off. The event is free to the public and it does not disappoint. This year, me and the missus rode the MotoWriter Road King Special down to the event, grabbed a cup of delicious coffee from Coast Roast Coffee & Tea and set out walking to check it out.

Fueled by Caffeine

Armed with my trusty GoPro Hero 6, inspired by the lovely Mrs. MotoWriter, and fueled by a deliciously caffeinated beverage from my favorite roaster, we took to the streets to check out this years' offerings- and we were not disappointed. I ended up getting some great video shots from the event and we even ran into several friends while we were out kicking the bricks. Check out my latest YouTube video for that footage.

Hurricanes Delta and Gamma

Apparently, while Gulfport was busy setting up for View The Cruise and the rest of the Coast cities were getting their venues ready, the Tropics were churning up a little lagniappe for 2020- two more hurricanes. We've had so many storms this year, that we've used up all the names and are now 7 deep into the Greek alphabet... 2020 has definitely given us plenty to talk about. Fortunately, Gamma ran its course and fizzled out down around the Yucatan Peninsula. Unfortunately, however, Delta strengthened and started heading toward us. By mid-week, we had a legitimate concern that we were going to take a direct hit, so a lot of the cruisers had packed up and headed out of town. We got lucky again, though, and the hurricane weakened a bit before making landfall to the West of us, in a small town West of New Orleans. As I mentioned in my last post, "Hurricanes", living on the Gulf Coast is awesome... with the exception of the occasional life-threatening, property-destroying, home-ravaging hurricanes. But, for the steadfast cruisers and spectators, their fortitude paid off and they were able to enjoy the entire week of Cruisin' The Coast events with nothing more than a brief and occasional rainshower.

Cruisin' and Riding

As for me and my missus, we were able to enjoy the City of Gulfport's event on the first Sunday, then after a week of grinding away at my regular job, I was able to get on the MotoWriter Street Bob and shoot some more video for y'all on the Saturday before it all wrapped up. All in all, it was a good week. Even with all the craziness of 2020, there were still over 6,700 cars registered for the event. 

Even though I no longer have my classic car, I still get giddy at the thought of Cruisin' The Coast. There's just something special about seeing your cities and towns over run by these beautiful old relics of the past, thundering down the highway in their former, and current, glories. The live music, the crowds of families and friends, and the smell of too-rich carburetors, burned rubber and bar-be-ques, wafting in the salty Southern air just takes me back to a better time in life. If you ever have the opportunity to do it, I highly recommend visiting South Mississippi for Cruisin' The Coast. In the meantime, check out the video I made, by clicking here. While you're there, don't forget to subscribe to my YouTube channel so that you don't miss out on any of your favorite MotoWriter content.

Hurricanes

Living on the Gulf Coast is awesome    

Along America's Southern Coastal border we have around 10 months of great riding weather complimented by coastal breezes, beautiful scenery, friendly people and some of the best food that will ever cross your taste buds. In one day, you can ride next to beautiful white sand beaches, cross over bays, bayous and marshes and, just a few minutes later, be cruising past cattle pastures, old homesteads and rolling hills. Want a piece of big city action? No problem- to the West we have New Orleans and to the East we have Mobile, Gulf Shores, Pensacola and Destin. The roads are pretty decent, there are plenty of gas stations and restaurants to stop at and there is no shortage of motorcycle shops to keep you rolling. But, as is the case with any area that has so many benefits, there is the occasional drawback that is there to keep you humble. In our case, it's the Tropics.

Tropical storms and hurricanes 

Every year, beginning around the month of June, Southerners start tuning in to weather channels, begin checking their generators and re-stocking their supplies of canned goods and bottled water. The reason? June marks the beginning of the Atlantic hurricane season. While the tropics don't always deliver storms to our estuary coastline, we always keep a watchful eye on anything that spins too close to the Leeward Islands. For those that are unaware, a Tropical Storm gets it's name when it reaches a wind speed of 39 miles per hour. At 74 mph, it becomes a full-fledged, "category one" hurricane. While a cat-1 storm is more of an annoyance to most of us, a cat-5 storm, with sustained winds over 157 mph, is a bonafide killer. The most recent cat-5 to hit the Mississippi Gulf Coast was Hurricane Camille in 1969. In 2005, we got hit by Katrina, a very powerful, well defined storm that had grown in intensity to a category 5 storm, but according to the weather experts, had dropped to a strong category 3 by the time it made landfall over New Orleans, unleashing it's most powerful and most damaging winds across the Gulf Coast of Mississippi. If you were alive, or at least awake in history class, you will know that Hurricane Katrina was a killer on it's own merit- claiming over 1,800 souls and causing over $125 billion in property damage. That's a billion, with a "B." Our coastline was, quite literally, leveled. If Katrina was a Category 3 when it caused that kind of death and destruction, just try to imagine what a category 5 would do. 

Scary stuff, to be certain.

This year has been a busy one

2020 has maintained it's consistent level of overall SUCK and, only three months into this season, it has given us over 25 named storms. We still have three more months of "in-season" tropical storms to contend with. With that said, we've been pretty fortunate thus far, in that all we've really had to deal with so far has been a few rain-making tropical storms and an annoying category 1, Sally, that finally decided to make landfall to the east of us. We still have to make it until the end of November and, God willing, we will make it to December 1st unscathed.

I'll ride in the rain if I have to, but I don't ever want to

Riding in the rain sucks, that's all there is to it. But sometimes, you can't help it. On a road trip for example, you just can't avoid running in to an occasional rain shower. It's not ideal, but with proper gear, it's manageable. You'll rarely ever see me leave the house in the rain, unless there are some kind of extenuating circumstances. Some people may call me a "fair-weather rider" because I'd prefer to wait it out than assume the extra risks of riding in the rain, with limited visibility on slick roads, but those that know me, know that I've been soaked to the bone while riding through torrential downpours. I simply choose to ride smarter, whenever I can.

The problem with hurricane season 

The biggest problem with hurricane season is the seemingly constant deluge of rain. As I said, I don't exactly mind if I get caught in the rain while I'm out riding, but I definitely don't want to leave the house in a torrent and it seems like that's been every day lately. I said previously that in the South, we have around 10 months of good riding weather, and that is completely true... just not 10 consecutive months. 

Choose your poison, so to speak

We don't always get to pick where we grow up, but we get to pick where we live when we do. As a kid, my family moved to the Coast from the Midwest. When I was just an innocent little freckle faced ginger kid, I remember riding in the back seat of our mid '70's Chevrolet coupe and watching the landscape slowly changing the further we got away from the home I knew, to the home I would later come to know and love. I watched as the trees grew taller and lost their lower branches and saw their leaves turn into needles. The rolling landscape of dirt and rocks, slowly flattened out, the black dirt turning into orange clay and the rocks turning into sand. When we finally stopped, I stood on the edge of the continent as the waves splashed across my 8 year old feet and I smelled the hot salty air. I watched as shrimp boats slowly trawled along the horizon in front of me and seagulls squawked at the setting sun. In this new home, I would later meet the girl that would become my wife and a few years later, she would bless me with the gift of fatherhood. I rode my first motorcycle in this balmy, humid Southern air and I have survived more than 30 hurricane seasons. My wife and I tried to move away once, but we just couldn't resist the beckoning symphony of summertime cicadas buzzing in concert with crickets, tree frogs and owls, or the smell of the salty ocean breeze blowing in off the Gulf of Mexico under a spectacular sunset. 

We chose to make this place our home and even though the, seemingly constant, deluge of rain during hurricane season puts a damper on my motorcycle riding, the rain always breaks, the clouds always clear and the sun always comes back out.

Ride safe and make good choices, y'all.

-The MotoWriter

Infatuation

Why are motorcyclists so infatuated with riding?

The very idea of riding a motorcycle can be terrifying for some, but for others, it's as essential to life as breathing. Why is it then, that such a stark contrast of emotions can be derived from such a simple machine?

What is a motorcycle?

Merriam-Webster's dictionary defines a motorcycle as: an automotive vehicle with two in-line wheels. Well, there you have it- how very technically accurate of them. It's not an incorrect definition; after all, motorcycles do have a motor and two wheels that are in-line with each other, but for so many of us, motorcycles are much, much more than this simple, and somewhat, diminutive definition would suggest.

Stress reliever and therapist

As I've previously mentioned in my blog and in my videos, my motorcycle is my stress relief- my therapist, if you will. After a long, stressful day at work, I look forward to getting on my motorcycle for what I like to call my "mototherapy." There's just something relaxing about coming home from work after a long, crappy day at the office and getting in the saddle. There are few things more relaxing than feeling the wind on my face, seeing the sun setting behind the tall, lanky southern pines and ancient oak trees and hearing the cicadas, crickets and tree frogs chirping and buzzing the final moments of daylight away. Just being on the bike while the sun slowly melts into the horizon, turning the trees into black silhouettes starkly contrasted by the fading orange, pink and blue sky, creating a hauntingly beautiful skyline, makes it feel like you're on the canvas of a masterpiece while it's being created. I know that may sound silly to some, but my fellow motorcycle riders know exactly what I'm talking about. 

The answer is in the question

Riding a motorcycle isn't something that you just do, it's something that you are a part of. You drive a car, but you ride a motorcycle. In a car, you are surrounded by layers of metal, fabric, foam and glass... much of which is completely unused on a daily basis. On a motorcycle though, you are on it- you are a part of it. You are the component that keeps it from falling over on it's side while at a stop. You must use both hands and both feet to operate it. The speed of the machine is directly proportional to the amount of movement you put in your wrist and the steering and control of the bike is directly and immediately influenced by even the slightest shift of your body. Riding a motorcycle isn't something that you simply do, but rather, it is a completely immersive activity. Being a motorcyclist isn't something that you do, it is something that you become. 

An emotional response

Motorcycles evoke emotions from, almost, everyone. Whether its excitement, anxiety, fear or elation, when someone sees a motorcycle ride by, they feel it. Small kids sitting in the rear seats of their mom and dad's beige SUV's and baby blue minivans, will sit and stare at a biker stopped for traffic. Kids and grown-ups alike tend to have an uncontrollable urge to wave at motorcycles as they ride by. Many of us can even remember a time in our childhood, when we saw (or heard) a motorcycle cruise past our house, or pass up the family truckster while we were taking a road trip to see grandma and grandpa. Even those among us that don't ride have some kind of motorcycle story to tell. 

Speaking of motorcycles

Every rider has his or her own story of how they learned to ride and, if you give them enough time, they'll be more than happy to tell you what got them into it. We can't help it, we love to share our passion for riding with other people. When someone gets inspired to try it out for themselves... we can barely contain our excitement for them. We want to share our successes and failures, tips and riding advice with them. We genuinely want them to be good, safe riders. When someone crashes their bike, we rally around them, supporting them and helping them heal... many times not even knowing them personally. We help them fix their motorcycle, or find a new one if it can't be repaired.

In the motorcycling community, we believe in helping each other out. It's common knowledge that if you see a fellow biker on the side of the road, you stop and check on him or her. Lending a hand and offering help isn't something that we have to be told to do, it's just something that we do, because we know it's the right thing to do.

Leather clad angels on two wheels

Motorcyclists are some of the most gracious, charitable and genuinely helpful people in our communities. The motorcycling community as a whole is responsible for donating millions of dollars a year to some of the most honorable and worthy causes in our communities. From raising money and collecting clothing for the local family that lost their house in a fire, to donating toys for underprivileged kids, to giving hundreds of thousands of dollars every year to the American Cancer Society or Saint Jude's Children's Hospital, it's easy to see that not all angels have wings and a halo, some of them wear leather vests and helmets. 

When a police officer, firefighter or service member dies, there is usually some kind of procession of motorcyclists there to honor and respect the fallen hero. Often, you will see a mix of both police motor officers and civilian riders, slowly rolling together to honor the dead. Sometimes, the riders will park their bikes along the roadway, heads bowed and hands over their hearts, or arms stiffly raised to their brow in respectful salute, to show grace and pay their respect to the family of the fallen. 

One bad apple

Many people associate all motorcyclists with the "gangs" they see on television shows and news reports. There are, literally, millions of dollars to be made on selling these stories to the masses. Shows like Sons of Anarchy and America Undercover are proof of that. The ironic part is that most of these storied clubs refer to themselves as "one percenters", meaning that they, themselves, acknowledge that they only make up about one percent of the motorcycling community. That means that out of 100 motorcycle riders you come across, only one of them will potentially be a self-admitted "outlaw." That means that the other 99 are good, honest, law abiding citizens that just happen to ride motorcycles. Another ironic detail that many folks don't want to admit, is that even the guys wearing those ominous looking patches on their backs, will often stop to offer assistance to a fellow motorcycle rider that's broken down or crashed. We rarely see that kind of camaraderie among other groups of people, with old car enthusiasts being one of the very few exceptions. 

As kids, we are taught (or at least we should be) not to judge an entire group of people based on the actions of a few, so why do we allow all motorcyclists to be judged and condemned because of the actions of a few bad apples? Why do we propagate the fear of horrible crashes, bloody highways and instant death as a result of riding motorcycles to our kids? How many times have you heard "motorcycles are dangerous, I know a guy that knew a guy, whose best friend was killed in a horrible motorcycle crash"? That seems to be such a common comment. Of course, a little research into the story might often implicate the operator of said motorcycle of some poor decision making and reckless operation of his machine... both of which would have more than likely led that poor schmuck to the same fate had he been behind the wheel of a Buick, instead of being perched atop a Kawasaki.

Teach the kids to respect the ride

Instead of teaching the, inevitable, next generation of riders to be afraid of their machines, why not teach them to embrace them? I refer to them as the "inevitable next generation of riders" simply because most kids (and many adults who refuse to grow old) will always seek to quench their thirst for excitement with the satisfying libation that is riding. 

Instead of teaching the next generation to fear the power of the machine, we should teach them how to harness it. Instead of telling them they will die, we should be teaching them how not to. Proper gear, good techniques and plenty of practice are all great points to cover. Many people may not realize this, but a little known fact is that good, well practiced and experienced motorcycle riders are actually much better car drivers, too. They tend to look further down the road, anticipate the actions of other drivers faster and are generally more alert to adverse driving conditions. We never hear about them though, because we only track statistics of bad drivers- not good ones.

The final answer and my final thought

So, why are motorcyclists so infatuated with riding their bikes? Because motorcycles are more personal to each individual rider- the fitment, the power and the overall ride of every motorcycle is uniquely specific, and finely tuned to each rider and his or her preferences. We do this on purpose. We customize our bikes to make them fit us and our needs. We want to express our individuality and our personality in the bikes that we ride because we form a bond with the machine- we trust it, we take care of it, and in return, it will take care of us- both physically and mentally.

I suppose that Merriam-Webster's definition probably is the best, though. After all, if we tried to actually define our beloved motorcycles by what they actually are and what they mean for us, the definition would probably be 7 pages long and non-riders probably still wouldn't understand. 

The motorcycle wave- do you do it?

Among the many awesome things about being a motorcycle rider is the camaraderie that we have with fellow motorcycle riders. Often, that can be seen, and expressed, with a simple gesture- the left arm, extended out and low, often with a couple of fingers extended, just to say, "hello" to a passing motorcyclist.

But why do some people wave and others don't and are there rules or guidelines as to who, or what kind of bike, you should wave at? For example, if you ride a Harley-Davidson or an Indian cruiser, should you wave at someone on a sport bike or... *gasp*... a scooter? If you are on an Adventure motorcycle or a Motard bike, is it acceptable to throw a wave at a guy on Honda Goldwing or a lady on a Can-Am Spyder? And what about those little bikes like the Honda Ruckus' or the Groms? After all, it can be tricky to determine what kind of rider is approaching, when all you can see on the road in front of you is the glow of a headlight. 

With so many types and styles of motorcycles out there on the road, it can get a bit confusing, so please allow me to help guide you and give you some direction with one simple piece of advice: 

Don't be a snob and just wave at everybody on two wheels.

I live by a very simple philosophy- if you ride, you're a rider. It doesn't matter what you ride, as long as you are experiencing and enjoying the thrill of being on two (or sometimes three) wheels. We all started somewhere, riding whatever kind of motorcycle that we could afford at the time, so why would you snub someone on a different type of bike? If you are stuck in the mindset of not waving at other riders, then that's your prerogative and I'm not here to change your opinion on the matter, but if you're a bike or brand snob, I hope you remember that you think you're better than everyone when you break down or, God forbid, crash. Don't let that sport bike rider stop and help you out with a flat tire and make sure that you refuse the gas can from the retired woman wearing hi-vis gear who just rode up on a three wheeled Spyder. Make sure that you tell them that you're too good to wave at them while riding, therefore you're too good to accept their help when you break down.

Honestly, if you're the kind of person that thinks you're too good to wave at other riders, then you probably just need to sell your bike and get a car because you just don't get it. Riding isn't about brands, or styles of motorcycles. It's about the freedom of the open road, the exhilaration of feeling the wind in our faces as we straddle a machine that pulls us down the road in a way that connects us to the world around us. It's something that not everyone can do. It's a special skill reserved for the fearless and bold. That's why so many of us believe in acknowledging other people who share that special bond with us.

I wave at everybody on two wheels. Everybody. 

I'm like Forrest Gump waving at "Loo-tin-ant Dan!" 

Oh, you're on a two-stroke moped from 1977? Cool, here's a wave, dude. Badass custom-built chopper? Boom! You get a wave. Sport bike chick? Goldwing rider wearing full, hi-vis yellow, gear in the middle of summer? ADV rider that still has mud dripping off the fenders? Luxury liner trike or Can-Am Spyder? Boom! Bam! Wham! Wave, wave and yes, another wave! 

Look, I don't care what you ride... if you're brave enough to straddle your particular machine, fire that puppy up and share the road with grandma Jenkins in her Buick Roadmaster, then we have something in common. If you share the thrill of riding, embrace the freedom of the open road and you're in the wind, then that's all the criteria I need to give you a wave.