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bit of riding, and some other stuff
It all started a few months ago. I have been riding more and more, and when winter came I found I did not want to put the bike away. I mean, there was stuff I wanted to do to it this winter, but it always seemed like there would be another riding day, just a bit off, and I would park the bike afterwards.
Of course, that parking thing never happened, and as rain turned to snow, as the temps dropped, I began to feel a bit envious of the other riders I knew. Heated clothes, heated grips, la tee da. I love my xs, and felt a bit downtrodden at her shortcomings. I got the Carharts (Which help a lot) balaclava, warm gloves, and all these things made me less cold, but still not warm.
There was also that whole salt thing. You know, that nasty corroding evil stuff they toss on the roads by the ton in the great Midwest. I washed the bike religiously, used WD-40 and brake cleaner. Everything was still good, but this ritual took some of the fun out of the ride.
I decided what I would do was obtain an old Goldwing (I know, but it was to be a beater bike, something I could use without as much upkeep). A full dress Wing would offer more wind protection that my Special, and they are easily modified to accept a second alternator, which would give me all the power I would need. I scoped out a few in the area, and decided to pick one up in the spring. I kept a eye on the prices, learned what to look for on a used Wing, and saved up.
‘Course, I was still riding during all this. And loving it, despite the chilliness. Wisconsin was nice enough to pop out a 50-60 degree day with some regularity, and even the new years day ride was in the 40s.
Then, one Sunday, all the wings I had been looking at were gone. Puff. List on Friday, gone on Sunday. I was, not upset, just bit stunned. Was there a run on Goldwings? Market crash? What happened?
Whatever the cause, I was no longer looking at Goldwings, and wandered over to the XS.COM classifieds. Wisconsin? Full dress bike? Good shape? I sent an email, and then pined all the next day for not calling. The bike will be gone. Someone will have bought it on Sunday.
Monday night, I gave up and called.
About a month later, my girlfriend and I are checking into a “resort motel” in Minocqua, just a few miles from where the bike is. It is her spring break, and we had planned to go somewhere warm. I told her about the bike I was looking at, and where it was. She sent me a list of bed and breakfest in Minocqua (and the area). She is a great woman. The bike is not even 5 miles away. A 1981 standard with a full front fairing (As in, with the lowers) and Vetter hard bags. Even has a radio. I woke up early, and wanted the time to pass faster.
I meet Pete at the HD dealer, where he works, and the bike spent the winter. Honestly, it is a little beat up, but in good shape nonetheless. Muffler needs patching. New battery, tires, oil and such. Did you ever just see a bike, and know it was for you? I felt that way when I first saw my special, a couple years ago, while I was at work. I went and got it the next day. The price was already agreed upon, I got a talk through the bikes stuff, the bags, keys, radio, windshield (Cut down). I give him some money, the title gets signed. He rides the bike out of the garage. I am thinking it’s my bike, and I want to ride it out, but he works at the dealer, and I know he will miss it. One little ride won’t hurt.
Outside the sun is shining, it is about 35, or so, and we are going to head back to the motel. The plan is to drive home tomorrow. The girlfriend is a bit bummed, since she did not bring her helmet or riding gear, so she is stuck in the car. I am a bit bummed too, since I am also going to be stuck in the car, as we explore Minocqua.
I get through the day (My bike time spent wiring the power for my satellite radio. Great gizmo, I just got it last year), and the alarm goes off in the morning We gave ourselves extra time for packing and breakfast, but in 30 minutes I am ready to hit the road. Still, since it is only 22 out, I wait until after breakfast.
Finally on the road, and we head south on WI HWY 51, towards Wausau. I have to decide whether to take Hwy 29, which passes through Green Bay, or keep heading south to I-39, going through Madison. I am leaning towards I-39, since the interstate system, while dreadfully boring, contains many rest stops and gas stations to aid a wayward motorcyclist. I am not sure about this bike’s range, or even how well it will keep me warm in the 30-degree weather. I tell my girlfriend that we will stop at Wausau, and decide what to do them.
One issues right away was the satellite radio was not working. Annoying, but I decided I really didn’t need it, and didn’t even try to figure out what was wrong. But the bike is smooth, really smooth. At first I wonder if there is something wrong with my special, back at home, but then I notice the vibration in the mirrors is about the same, and the foams hand grips must be insulating my hands.
This is my first ride on a full dresser, and first time with a gas gauge (as opposed to the “You are now out of gas” light). The wind blockage is nice. The previous owner had the handle bars rocked down, behind the fairing, but I moved them back up to what I was used too. Much more comfy for me. I fiddle with the radio, can’t really find a station, and feel like I should be paying more attention to the road anyway.
Miles drift past under the tires, and soon I am pulling off at exit 188. There is a Wendy’s there, and my toes are cold. The GF follows me into the parking lot, and we head in for an early lunch. I tell her I have decided to keep heading south to Madison, taking I-39. boring, true, but the prudent thing to do. And we can’t get lost that way.
Back on the road, and dealing with some contruction in Wausau. I see a 51 detour sign, but can’t safely make the turn, and think it might be for business 51 anyway. About 10 miles down the road, I see the east- 29 sign, and realize we are heading towards Green Bay. I shrug it off. I don’t feel like turning around, and this way will still get us home.
Another 60 so miles, and the gas gauge reads E. No sputtering, or anything, but I am wondering what the real range of this bike is. I decide not to risk hitting reserve, and take the next gas station off ramp. The GF again follows me, and as I get off the bike, she is there.
“You side cover fell off” I look, and sure enough the left cover is gone. She says it was not too far back on the road, and we think about heading to look for it. I decide to just cough up money for a replacement. I can’t imagine the 20 year old plastic surviving the 70 mile per hour hit on the cement. As I fill the bike, and man rides past on a flat board, hitched to a single horse. He nods at me, and I smile and nod back. He ignores the cars. Makes the GF jealous.
(btw, if any of you have a side cover for an 81 standard lieing around you have not sold for a house payment on ebay yet, let me know)
The tank is filled, and we are back on the road. We find our way back to I-43, and head south to Milwaukee. The weather has really been okay, sunny, though a bit cold, and this stretch from Green Bay to Port Washington is beautiful. It would only be more prefect if 40 degrees warmer, but I am comfortable and so can’t complain.
South of Port Washington, and we stop to get gas for the GF’s car. I decide to push the range a bit, since the bike only took 4 gallons at the last gas stop. We are getting to the area I know very well, and I am confident about finding gas, if I need to.
As we approach the city, we get city drivers. I-43 is a four-lane road until you are almost in downtown, and people are in a constant rush to get somewhere. I have a moment of nerves when I lose sight of the GF’s car, but I just move to the right and slow down until she catches up. People have no idea how to merge. I only nearly get squished twice, which is not too bad, considering.
We stop at my house, and unload. She has to go to her parents, and I want to take another look at the radio. The fuse was blown in the 12 to 6 volt adaptor. Simple fix, all well. Radio works fine. I take it over to my work place to show it off. It is a bit dirty, but everyone makes the appropriate jealous noises. Bunch of Harley riders, maybe 200 miles a year. I did more than that today.
I ride the bike home, fix dinner, and go back to fiddle with it some more. I try to think of places I need to go, but really can’t come up with anything. Finally, I put the cover on it, and say goodnight. It is still early in the year, it is only the first day with the bike. We will be together again soon.
Of course, that parking thing never happened, and as rain turned to snow, as the temps dropped, I began to feel a bit envious of the other riders I knew. Heated clothes, heated grips, la tee da. I love my xs, and felt a bit downtrodden at her shortcomings. I got the Carharts (Which help a lot) balaclava, warm gloves, and all these things made me less cold, but still not warm.
There was also that whole salt thing. You know, that nasty corroding evil stuff they toss on the roads by the ton in the great Midwest. I washed the bike religiously, used WD-40 and brake cleaner. Everything was still good, but this ritual took some of the fun out of the ride.
I decided what I would do was obtain an old Goldwing (I know, but it was to be a beater bike, something I could use without as much upkeep). A full dress Wing would offer more wind protection that my Special, and they are easily modified to accept a second alternator, which would give me all the power I would need. I scoped out a few in the area, and decided to pick one up in the spring. I kept a eye on the prices, learned what to look for on a used Wing, and saved up.
‘Course, I was still riding during all this. And loving it, despite the chilliness. Wisconsin was nice enough to pop out a 50-60 degree day with some regularity, and even the new years day ride was in the 40s.
Then, one Sunday, all the wings I had been looking at were gone. Puff. List on Friday, gone on Sunday. I was, not upset, just bit stunned. Was there a run on Goldwings? Market crash? What happened?
Whatever the cause, I was no longer looking at Goldwings, and wandered over to the XS.COM classifieds. Wisconsin? Full dress bike? Good shape? I sent an email, and then pined all the next day for not calling. The bike will be gone. Someone will have bought it on Sunday.
Monday night, I gave up and called.
About a month later, my girlfriend and I are checking into a “resort motel” in Minocqua, just a few miles from where the bike is. It is her spring break, and we had planned to go somewhere warm. I told her about the bike I was looking at, and where it was. She sent me a list of bed and breakfest in Minocqua (and the area). She is a great woman. The bike is not even 5 miles away. A 1981 standard with a full front fairing (As in, with the lowers) and Vetter hard bags. Even has a radio. I woke up early, and wanted the time to pass faster.
I meet Pete at the HD dealer, where he works, and the bike spent the winter. Honestly, it is a little beat up, but in good shape nonetheless. Muffler needs patching. New battery, tires, oil and such. Did you ever just see a bike, and know it was for you? I felt that way when I first saw my special, a couple years ago, while I was at work. I went and got it the next day. The price was already agreed upon, I got a talk through the bikes stuff, the bags, keys, radio, windshield (Cut down). I give him some money, the title gets signed. He rides the bike out of the garage. I am thinking it’s my bike, and I want to ride it out, but he works at the dealer, and I know he will miss it. One little ride won’t hurt.
Outside the sun is shining, it is about 35, or so, and we are going to head back to the motel. The plan is to drive home tomorrow. The girlfriend is a bit bummed, since she did not bring her helmet or riding gear, so she is stuck in the car. I am a bit bummed too, since I am also going to be stuck in the car, as we explore Minocqua.
I get through the day (My bike time spent wiring the power for my satellite radio. Great gizmo, I just got it last year), and the alarm goes off in the morning We gave ourselves extra time for packing and breakfast, but in 30 minutes I am ready to hit the road. Still, since it is only 22 out, I wait until after breakfast.
Finally on the road, and we head south on WI HWY 51, towards Wausau. I have to decide whether to take Hwy 29, which passes through Green Bay, or keep heading south to I-39, going through Madison. I am leaning towards I-39, since the interstate system, while dreadfully boring, contains many rest stops and gas stations to aid a wayward motorcyclist. I am not sure about this bike’s range, or even how well it will keep me warm in the 30-degree weather. I tell my girlfriend that we will stop at Wausau, and decide what to do them.
One issues right away was the satellite radio was not working. Annoying, but I decided I really didn’t need it, and didn’t even try to figure out what was wrong. But the bike is smooth, really smooth. At first I wonder if there is something wrong with my special, back at home, but then I notice the vibration in the mirrors is about the same, and the foams hand grips must be insulating my hands.
This is my first ride on a full dresser, and first time with a gas gauge (as opposed to the “You are now out of gas” light). The wind blockage is nice. The previous owner had the handle bars rocked down, behind the fairing, but I moved them back up to what I was used too. Much more comfy for me. I fiddle with the radio, can’t really find a station, and feel like I should be paying more attention to the road anyway.
Miles drift past under the tires, and soon I am pulling off at exit 188. There is a Wendy’s there, and my toes are cold. The GF follows me into the parking lot, and we head in for an early lunch. I tell her I have decided to keep heading south to Madison, taking I-39. boring, true, but the prudent thing to do. And we can’t get lost that way.
Back on the road, and dealing with some contruction in Wausau. I see a 51 detour sign, but can’t safely make the turn, and think it might be for business 51 anyway. About 10 miles down the road, I see the east- 29 sign, and realize we are heading towards Green Bay. I shrug it off. I don’t feel like turning around, and this way will still get us home.
Another 60 so miles, and the gas gauge reads E. No sputtering, or anything, but I am wondering what the real range of this bike is. I decide not to risk hitting reserve, and take the next gas station off ramp. The GF again follows me, and as I get off the bike, she is there.
“You side cover fell off” I look, and sure enough the left cover is gone. She says it was not too far back on the road, and we think about heading to look for it. I decide to just cough up money for a replacement. I can’t imagine the 20 year old plastic surviving the 70 mile per hour hit on the cement. As I fill the bike, and man rides past on a flat board, hitched to a single horse. He nods at me, and I smile and nod back. He ignores the cars. Makes the GF jealous.
(btw, if any of you have a side cover for an 81 standard lieing around you have not sold for a house payment on ebay yet, let me know)
The tank is filled, and we are back on the road. We find our way back to I-43, and head south to Milwaukee. The weather has really been okay, sunny, though a bit cold, and this stretch from Green Bay to Port Washington is beautiful. It would only be more prefect if 40 degrees warmer, but I am comfortable and so can’t complain.
South of Port Washington, and we stop to get gas for the GF’s car. I decide to push the range a bit, since the bike only took 4 gallons at the last gas stop. We are getting to the area I know very well, and I am confident about finding gas, if I need to.
As we approach the city, we get city drivers. I-43 is a four-lane road until you are almost in downtown, and people are in a constant rush to get somewhere. I have a moment of nerves when I lose sight of the GF’s car, but I just move to the right and slow down until she catches up. People have no idea how to merge. I only nearly get squished twice, which is not too bad, considering.
We stop at my house, and unload. She has to go to her parents, and I want to take another look at the radio. The fuse was blown in the 12 to 6 volt adaptor. Simple fix, all well. Radio works fine. I take it over to my work place to show it off. It is a bit dirty, but everyone makes the appropriate jealous noises. Bunch of Harley riders, maybe 200 miles a year. I did more than that today.
I ride the bike home, fix dinner, and go back to fiddle with it some more. I try to think of places I need to go, but really can’t come up with anything. Finally, I put the cover on it, and say goodnight. It is still early in the year, it is only the first day with the bike. We will be together again soon.
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