Old Stuff Rocks

I have some vintage Popular Mechanics and Popular Science magazines from 1949 through 1953. I love old magazines because they depict an innocent era, an era where everything was new and exciting, where there was respect for everything and everyone. Back in these times, everything was mechanical and analog. YOU had to make things work, there was a romance about machinery. Not anymore. There is no respect for anything, anyone and who operates machinery anymore? Motorcycles are pretty much the last of the a bygone day and even those days are nearly numbered with the emergence of electric motorcycles.

One of my favorite things about these old magazines are the ads, which you'll be seeing much more of in future posts.  This particular ad is for the 1953 Harley Davidson Model 165. I like how they have made it seem so simple, fun and carefree. I'm amazed at the implication of riding without a helmet, zipping along with more power and not a care in the world. We should be so lucky.

The Model 165 was a revision to the 1948 S125 with an increase in engine size to 165 producing just over 3 HP. It had no battery and was a magneto start. It didn't have front fork suspension as we know it today, instead it used large rubber bands.

Dry and cat free

In all the years I have owned a motorcycle, they have not seen the inside of a garage. They have always been outside and covered up through all sorts of weather.  Sad.  I know.  It made me sad and there were countless times that I damned the elements while I raced time to complete some maintenance task before the arrival of the impending weather doom that was quickly approaching.

Then there is the time I had to have my seat re-upholstered because one of my daughters cats had clawed its way under the bike cover and decided my seat needed kneading. From that point on my bike always had a blanket over the seat.... and a cat.

Then one day my wife suggested that I put the bike in the shed in the backyard. Although the thought spent nearly 5 seconds in my head, I finally pointed out all of the dastardly things that would have to happen in order for that to work which included removal of the 6' tall gate, navigating up a step onto the deck, then down the deck and across the yard. If that wasn't enough, I'd have to clear out the shed of all of the yard tools, beach and lawn chairs, lawnmower, power washer and clutter only to find out that the bike will not fit in a 7' x 7' shed. 

"Build another shed" she says. Well, I did, but only big enough to house all of the yard tools. But the decision was made to build a 10' x 10' shed in the driveway. Let the madness begin.

The town I live in requires that one get a "Use variance" for a shed under 100 square feet and a drawing to show where it is going to go. Okay, fine. The seemingly helpful gentlemen at the zoning office then asked "Are you buying one or what's it going to be made of?" He says. "Stick framed wood." I replied. "Oh, then we'll probably have to get an architect involved." Was his comment. "It's a shed for my motorcycle, I'm not sleeping in it." I replied in great surprise. "Doesn't matter, it's a framed structure." He finally said. The call ended with a "Nevermind" from me.

Crap.

To be continued......

 

Winter blahs

So here I am in mid January, driving in my truck on the way home from work, which by the way, gets in the way of my otherwise rockstar lifestyle, and the only thoughts on my mind are:

A. Get on the bike, which is on the trainer, at home and do some miles tonight before I do an interview for the podcast.
B. I should've rode my motorcycle today since it was so nice out, only in the upper 40's but still, nice enough to ride.
C. The weather for the upcoming week looks like crap with temperatures in the upper 30s.

Although I have managed to maintain at least 50 to 100 miles per week on the bicycle trainer, indoors. It does a little to satisfy my need to put on good miles, both on the bicycle, and on the Harley. 

Speaking of which, my dear sweet Sugar, that's my Harley, has sat in the driveway covered and plugged in for the last month and a half. All I have managed is to start her up, check all the usual things and maybe take for a short trip down my dead end street. The weather has neither been acceptable nor cooperative enough for me to put in a significant ride. Unlike my bicycle, I cannot put my motorcycle on an indoor trainer of sorts, and ride it. That might create way too much toxic fumes,  it would be awfully loud and I doubt that the bike could fit inside my office.  I think the pets would object as well.

So this conundrum, that space, that we all experience and consume this time of year here in the Northeast of the United States, puts us all in a terrible state of moaning, groaning, bitching, complaining, and add your favorite negative adjective or expletive here. 

Topsider Resort, Islamorada, Florida Keys

Each evening when I turn on my computer and begin my usual slog through the barrage of emails and links I go through, more often than not, I see photographs and images of all types of men and women who are outdoors riding their motorcycles and their bicycles in fair  weather with blue skies and seemingly warm temperatures. All I can do is moan and let off with a disapproving grunt. Somewhere, deep down, I hate them. And this is nothing new, this is what we experience every year around the same time. And each year, we do nothing to improve that. Oh, we may vacation in some warm spot, spend hundreds and hundreds of dollars to rent a motorcycle or bicycle to bring us one week of joy and it only takes one day to see it washed down the drain the moment we step off whatever flight it is from whatever location, back into the dreary arctic environment.

This is the time of year when we always say to ourselves, "I'm really going to make an effort this year to write a lot more". And then we begin to peruse all the Internet sites looking for roads and destinations in warmer climates that we know, deep down, we know we will never see, not this year anyway.

So every few days, if you are like me, you go out to your motorcycle take off the cover, touch it, sit on it, start it up, check all the lights, beep the horn, rev it up a few times, and then shut it off. Then you cover it up, and go back in the house and sulk. If you're a cyclist, like I am, you have your bike seemingly welded to your indoor trainer and that's where remains until the slightest vestige of warm weather makes an appearance. Until such time, you will spend hours upon hours and miles upon miles riding in a virtual world giving "Thumbs Up" to your virtual cycling buddies on Zwift, to get yourself ready for the "riding season". The sad part about that is… Well… It's all sad.


So in closing, I want to thank all of the motorcycle and bicycle magazines and catalogs, all the motorcycle and bicycle ads, for teasing me and making me consider a move to a warmer climate. Enticing me to look at real estate in said warmer climate. By the way, you suck.