Un-Reconstructed

The horror. The horror.

Drudge linked up this story of a teacher in South Carolina who has committed the ultimate sin and stated the obvious. History is settled on the issue of north american slavery and its cost/benefit to blacks, yet a man makes some pretty innocuous comments and the PC crowd is in a complete tizzy. What fun!

The place I find disagreement with this fellow is with the idea that one has to be very intelligent or white to be able to implement, understand, and responsibly function within a constitutionally limited republican government. Short of lacking the mental acuity of being able to wipe the spittle from one's own chin it's not too complex to fathom. Sure, a succession of genius level intellects occupying learned, inquisitive, and observant minds was required to formulate western political philosophy, but the hard part is done. Understanding what they laboured to conceptualize hardly requires even a shadow of their intellect. We are intellectually standing on their shoulders and not required to be able to bear their burden.

Where we have fallen short is in succumbing to the temptation of what is (at it's root) marxist philosophy, which appeals to the less motivated among us of any colour, coupled with institutional enforcement of indoctrination.

It is worthy of note that the fearless reporter went straight to the school district and "informed" it of Dr. McCuen's comments. Note the use of "informed" rather than the most journalistic "when asked about". A look into the motivation of the reporter, wouldn't you say?

Do watch the video. It is informative of the goals of modern journalism in that the reporter does not ask questions pertinent to the subject being discussed, such as asking for comment on the espoused views of those making a living off inflammatory remarks "on behalf" of black folks, but continuously asks leading questions to generate a maximum level of controversy.

The Bag Trick

Seems some things are universal.....

A KLR in action - bear in mind an XR650L was pulled out from this same hole moments before. I don't think that's much deeper than some of the mudholes we rode through Satrday.

The Twelve Miler – Minibike heaven, KLR hell.

This is where a KLR has no business being anytime after wet weather, though sections of it were the most enjoyable. Lots of water holes and creek crossing, some pretty fast and high splashin' fun. There were however a lot of tight sections that the KLR is just too big and long (for my skill level anyway) to negotiate. We started out on wide gravel for a few miles then transitioned onto singletrack. It didn't take long to find lots of wet, slick rock outcroppings and eroded roots in the trail. SwampThing prefers plain old mud to this stuff and communicated this to me by some serious pounding through the handlebars that it was displeased. At the (ahem) stately pace I was maintaining it was easy to either lose traction altogether and thus control or kill the engine negotiating a particularly steep sided obstacle. I began to feather the clutch in tight maneuvering or application of throttle when negotiating steep obstacles. This seemed to help a lot, but got me into trouble on the only real even half-assed hill climb I attempted as I feathered when I should have been used the stick on SwampThing. No matter, it only took six guys, with the engine helping to get the beast moving up hill again.

We were denied much further exploration due to high water and a low bike The Kid brought, but found a long wide beach near a creek that served as a bullshitting stop and gave everyone a chance to ride each other's minibikes. I tried out Dr. Jekyll's KDX200 and found it amazingly user friendly with supple suspension, of course you have to shift every half second when on the gas.... No thanks.

Throughout all the riding Saturday, The minibikes periodically would “shed” parts and pieces. Inevitably, they would look to me for a solution. The KLR has a lot of parts that are extraneous for trail riding and became the designated fastener donor for at least three of the minibikes. I will note the only other Kawasaki had no such issues, even after the saw-briar patch with Brer Larry.

Babysister and stopped on the way home for a chocolate shake at a nearby burger stand and while we were there with his RM250 minibike and the SwampThing in the trailer a fella stopped on the highway to how much that Kawasaki cost, because he really had always wanted one. Babysister remarked there must be something wrong with people in those parts 'cause the Suzuki's were the good bikes to which another bystander explained, “KLR's are awesome!”

Like I always say when it comes to the KLR: “No matter what you ride, I can ride with you but you can't ride with me.”

The Nine Miler or "Larry Goes Gonzo"

The Nine Miler

This trail is a little misnamed because it is out and back across the same route. Of all the riding Saturday this trail is the best suited to the KLR. Except for one spot going one direction.

There are a lot on nice uphills well suited to the big fourstroke, and muddy turns, with little double-hump water crossings to get the front up on with minimal bottoming on the down side. Of course, the boys on the twosmokers were bouncin' down the trail like twitterpated rabbits.

All was going remarkably well until we came to a long steep uphill composed completely of rocky outcroppings. Lookin' at it from the bottom I was wondering what all the fuss was about and figured I'd just tractor up and over the shit and be on my way. Until Larry stopped. Because The Kid stopped.

One does not stop a KLR650 on a steep, bouldered hillside and expect it to just up and take off again without any fuss. As they say, “An ounce of momentum is worth a pound of traction.” and I was all out of momentum with no traction in sight. Luckily Dr. Jekyll (“Ed”, for short) stayed back to make sure everyone negotiated the obstacle. It was not pretty. Lookin' back, I think I would have made it up the hill OK had Larry not stopped for The Kid stopping, but the sharp obstacled left and the immediate sharp obstacled right would have at least called for stopping to maneuver.

Past “The Rocky Hill” it was mostly all downhill and the big fourstroke enginebrakes well so it was a blast. Coming back the other direction was the usual miles of smiles! The Rocky Hill was pretty uneventful going the other way. Zero pucker factor; Chug! Chug! Chug!, and away we went.

So far I had not dropped the bike and was rapidly building confidence in it. It was obvious to me that the front end was, at once, too stiff at the bottom and too soft at the top of it's stroke compounded by being just plain too short in stroke overall. The other fellas were flyin' down the trail and waiting on me periodically, but my babysitter (Claude) was always nearby.

I can't imagine what a pain in the ass that was, but I carried extra water to make the burden even. I didn't flaunt the refreshments in front of the others at stops on the hot d r y trail, but Claude did.

At one stop, Larry was beaming under the praise of everyone present for the apparent ease with which he was riding given his limited experience. Some more advanced watercrossing techniques were discussed and I guess Larry thought he'd give it a try, so....

Fifty feet into the restart Claude and I hear a twostroke rev to the sky screaming like someone had it by the balls, and see Larry hit a water hole with the front wheel up. What a Splash! It must have impressed him because Larry didn't let off before setting up for the next waterhole immediately following the first. That's when it got ugly. Or funny, depending on your perspective. The bike left the first water hole a bit out of control, hit the second completely out of control and entered the trailside briar patch airbourne. All this to the accompaniment of the sounds of breaking saplings and ripping cloth! Larry didn't stop until he was 15 feet deep into a saw-briar patch well over his head. All we heard after that was a loud pitiful wail of, “Heeeeelllllp!”. He had entered the saw-briar patch with all four appendages spread eagle and only his asshole still connected to the bike. The clenching is what kept him on the seat.

After much laughing at Larry's expense (Claude was forced to piss on a nearby tree lest he soil himself and I nearly dropped the SwampThing into the dirt I was so weak from hysteria), we began extricating him from the patch. Try untangling a spider web while laughing yourself silly. Sadly, we failed to express any sympathy for poor Larry. Luckily, he was laughing, too. Through the pain. That was the best wreck of the day.

I know this is off topic but....... Damn!

Honest Dirt

Mission: Explore the off road capability of the my KLR650 (SwampThing) with an eye toward suspension evaluation and determination of required upgrades if any. Further, evaluate my own off road skills as relates to a heavyweight dualsport.



Modus Operandi: Meet with some fellas from work who are twostroke devotees riding from 100cc to 250cc Japanese twostrokes with a KTM 250 for good measure.



Personnel:

Claude and JACIII (me): Claude was my excellent host for this outing and rides a Suzuki RM250. Good steady rider who occasionally has flights of impulsive behavior like trying to follow Kyle up hills only the soft of head desire to go.

Eddie and his boy Kyle: Eddie hales from Monticello, Ky. and is a Jekyll and Hyde type of rider. Mild mannered and soft spoken off the bike but he changes when strapped to a KDX200. Nuts. The only time you'll see him is at the trail head and back at the truck. Some demon possesses him when he gets on a bike. His boy Kyle, at least, lets ya' know he is crazy from the get go. In the time it took to Claude and me to unload our bikes Kyle had managed to ride and drop all four of the other bikes there. On purpose. Kyle rides a KTM 250 and it's a beast.

Larry and The Kid: Larry is also a coworker and quite a large boy. He has limited motorcycle experience and rode one of Eddie's bikes as his guest. Recipient of the most creative waterhole crossing award. The Kid (don't know his name) showed up on an old Suzuki 100cc four stroke with no knobs in the center of the back tire. A game rooster if ever there was one.



The Tale:
We all met at an OHV area in the Daniel Boone National Forest called “S-Tree”. There are three trails we on the agenda: The Five Miler, The Nine Miler, and The 20 Miler. I don't think that's their appropriate designation, but these boys are from Monticello and Winchester. By God.
All was well and the bikes were unloaded without incident which led to some impromptu ride swapping. The others were dubious about the KLR's ability to negotiate the trails. I figured if ATV's could handle it the SwampThing could too. I chose what I thought was a light loadout of only a tankbag on the mighty SwampThing.



Five Miler:
This is a piece of work. The forest service has actually laid pavers down at water crossings and up some hills to prevent silting and erosion. It's pretty damned tight throughout and I kept worrying about the slime that likes to grow on rocks underwater making the front wash out and flopping me to the ground. I later learned there is enough traffic through there to keep such stuff at bay, but it was in the back of my mind nonetheless. I took the last position in the group so as not to hold anyone up with my behemoth. My biggest extra-trail excursion occurred in a deep left hander that looked to be a safe berm shot when my front tire initially refused to climb the berm wall to let me start my line high. The front then grabbed all at once and shot me straight up the three foot berm into a foot wide tree. Crunch. It took ten minutes to get the bike free and back on the trail. I eventually made it to where the rest of the fellas had stopped for a break when I noticed my temperature gauge pegging. I shut down and commence work to get the fan going again. Eddie and I worked at bending the radiator back into place and getting the fan some turning clearance, but became frustrated so Claude had to do it. It was then that I realized I was still running road pressure in my tires. While Claude was finishing up with the fan I aired the tires down to safe dirt pressures. What a difference! The rest of that trail was uneventful but really fun. Think rollercoaster with your own gas pedal and small jumps every fifty feet!

Brokeback Fender

I just got in from ridin' trails all day. Me and the Swampthing were in amongst the 125 and 250 two-smokers with a KLX250s and a KX450 four stroke for good measure.

Tales are to follow and maybe a pic. Rest assured, I have been out doing things you shouldn't do on a KLR.

No, that's not me. I had some difficulty with a tree just off the trail bending the radiator back into the fan, so Claude volunteered to straighten the fan bracket enough so I could continue. Sadly this is the only pic I got on the trails due to a digital camera that was not up to the task of vibration resistance required in the tankbag of the SwampThing.

Holy BatShit !

Meet HolyCaveman:


This fella posts on the KLR650.net forum and is pretty much the designated suspension experimenter and practicioner of the arcane art of suspension tuning. Somebody forgot to tell him certain things are Not Done on a KLR650.

Absurdity Is No Obstacle

NAPLES, Fla. -- A sheriff's pilot was temporarily blinded when someone aimed a green laser into his helicopter's cockpit, authorities said.
Two Collier County sheriff's pilots were searching for a loud party in Naples last Friday when the laser beam was directed into their cockpit, sheriff's Lt. Mark Cherney said.
One of the pilots was wearing night vision goggles, which amplified the beam and temporarily blinded him.
The pilot suffered severe headaches and it remains unclear if the laser caused lasting damage to his eyes, Cherney said. The other pilot was not injured by the beam.
It is a felony to point a laser at an aircraft. No one has been charged in the attack.

"We have some leads," Cherney said. "We're looking for more."

This is cute. Robo-cop wannabes using nightvision while piloting a helecopter on a secret mission looking for loud parties.

I wonder what the budget is for the "Loud Party Airial Reconnisance Patrol" , hmmm?

Let's see a nice used Bell Helicopter is for sale on ebay for $895,000.
Nightvision goggles for around $2500 for the good stuff.
Pilot - let's say $70.000.
co-pilot - $65,000
Ground support and maintenance I guess around $100,000 year contracted out.

If the city of naples, Florida is prepared to spend that kinda money to locate Loud Parties nothing is beyond the pale for the fedgov. Any calls of "The fderal government doesn't have the time or resources to_______." should fall on deaf ears. Anything a governing body can/may do, it will do. Absurdity is no obstacle.

Diesel Conversion - Not the KLR

Anybody have any idea how much HP in a diesel would be required to move my Suburban down the road at legal speeds? It's probably around 7,000 lbs loaded. EP? Bill? Astro? Y'all know who I'm talkin' to.

I find myself lamenting the prospect of unloading the behemoth for a more economical form of personal transport and have recently found the time to consider picking up an old 4 cylinder Perkins or somesuch out of an outdoor forklift, straight truck (6 wheeler) or marine power unit and doin' a swap. I have the rescources to engineer and execute this and I figure it will put the 'burb near the 20mpg mark which I can live with. Gearing is not a problem as the 'burb has a tall overdrive.

I'm not a bit interested in being able to haul ass down the road and am thinking the european approach to powering a 'lorrie' is the way to go.

Gum-bo Rally !

There's a KLR rider I know of put his adventure bike away for a Dos Equis speed run from Omaha to Apalachicola (Haul ass from Omaha to Old Virginia and hang a right, y'all) for a bowl of fresh gumbo. Sound crazy? Been there, done that. Twice.

See there is this great little cafe' on the Mississippi called the Magnolia Grill (What else?!) at Natchez Under-the-Hill on the banks of the Mississippi where the old paddlewheelers used to dock at what was one time considered the Barbary Coast of US water travel. There is an old saloon still in operation and a bunch of yuppie shops, but the treat is the Magnolia Grill. An ice cold Corona at the end of a hot, hard ride overlooking the Mighty Mississippi and all is right with the world.


I hope this doesn't give anyboby the itch.....

Meet the Motorcycling Underworld - Slick Creek on the TransAm Trail

Y'all remember the tale of Nate droppin' his bike for the first time in Slick Creek on the TAT. Just as a public service I am posting some pics lifted off of AdvRider.com to better illustrate the process whereby Nate bit it. This is purley for academic reasons. Not to make fun of anybody or anything like that, but I know I don't have to tell y'all that, now..... do I.

Here's a fella makin' a bold attempt using pretty much the same teeter-totter method as Nate:



Here is another fella suffering the same results as Nate. Thump.


Not to be braggin' or anything, but this is pretty much how I did it:
Nice bike, eh, Waterboy? Look!, you can ride dualsport and still keep your blog handle!

New Rider - Ninja 250

Just got my first new bike last Friday!

It's only a Ninja 250, but I'm going to go for a sport-tourer after I get some serious miles under my belt.
Michael Maier Edit comment Delete comment | Email | Homepage | 05.01.06 - 7:39 pm | #

Congrats, MM! I can't think of a better starter bike. Many experienced riders enjoy them and I think there are even some club races limited to participation with only the EX250. Excellent choice.

Waterboy?????

chirp - chirp

Fun With Search Engines - Google "cruiserboy"

Ever look at the Sitemeter page tracking referal pages to your blog? I do. It is interesting to note what you have in common with the great searching horde of humanity the world over.

ZX14R; KLR650; KLX250s review; GPZ

Always the motorcycle stuff, though "ethnocentricity" had quite a following for awhile....However, my favorite recurring search string has to be "cruiserboys".

I referred to some fellas I was riding with in this way completely innocent of the homosexual connotation Sitemeter and have Google since revealed. Black leather everything and "chaps" - that's what otherwise grown men call their leather pants with no ass in 'em. I swear I laugh out loud everytime it pops up. A cruiserboy, it seems, is typified by the village people motorcycle gayguy, ya'll! Granted, when I called 'em cruiserboys I did mean it in a off the cuff derogetory way, but I had no idea of the extent of my own diabolical subconcious machinations.

So, Greg (not you EP), Frank, Timmy, Pappy, and Dave, many a pillowbiter has spanked his monkey reading my tale of the ride with y'all when Pappy, ahem, 'went down'. I ain't laughin'.... Really....I'm not.

Let's Grow Tomatos !

I know, I know, the almanac is callin' for one more frost in May but I'll bag 'em if need be.

So, what's on the menu? Big Beef, Pink German, and Early Boy.

If ya' ask me, I'll tell ya' anything other than a Big Beef is a waste of good dirt, so I let the wife plant the niche tomatos in the (Troybilt) garden and I went whole hog on two Big Beef plants.


As you can see this is a little different method for growing tomatos. I picked this up from Uncle Fred from whom much timeless wisdom and brilliant bullshit flows. Much as I like tillin' a garden I hate weeding it at least as much, and I just want to kill every bunny born, but not SpaceBunnies. I'll share my tomatos with SpaceBunnies.



Anyway, ya' cut about a 1" hole in the bottom of a five gallon bucket. (Yes, Bill, you can use a holesaw) and stuff your plant through it taking care to not damage any of its tender stems and leaves. Moisten the root/soil block and hang the bucket before filling the bucket with topsoil. I use my super double secret recipe of aged and tilled horse shit, rabbit shit, and garden soil. I usually put a couple of shovels full in and then water again before filing the rest of the way.

The vine will grow down happily without all the weeds and bunny trouble. Water and fertilizer are applied from the top of the bucket.

There are several advantages to this:

1) It's entertaining to "pluck" tomatos instead of pickin' 'em up off the ground like common folk.

2) The top-down watering/feeding method gets all the goodies to the plant.

3) the bunnies and beetles can't reach it. Though I have considered using a fishook through a leaf to catch one... Could be fun.


I'm sure this looks appetizing to deer, but I'll take my chances. Y'all give it a try. Even cityfolk can do this, and your neighbors will think you're a damned genius.

Hey, Gregg:

Link dies: Here's the new one.

The Lovely Long-Suffering Lady Inquires:

Pardon the ignorance, but what's the point of camo on someone riding a really loud bike?
Spacebunny | Email | Homepage | 04.27.06 - 12:10 pm | #

This is, of course, re: the military motorcycle posted below.


1) Camouflage is useless against terrain while in motion.
The human eye is drawn to motion and outline (visible boundaries). Camouflage serves to breakup an outline against a natural background rendering an appropriately camouflaged entity invisible, or nearly so, to the naked eye. The second it moves it becomes visible against the background, in fact it commands attention from the human eye. Therefore, the camo is for when not riding.

2) The KLR is not loud.
The audio was probably boosted during editing for entertainment value. A stock KLR muffler sounds remarkably like an old Volkswagen Beetle and has a "tweety" sound. I can understand the confusion here as my KLR is very vocal and does not conceal it's considerable power delivery.


Chicks.....


I guess ya' gotta give a girl credit for participating in a motorcycle discussion, though.

The Return of Boyhood heroes: GhostRider

We all had heroes growing up. They run the gamut from Superman to Hopalong Cassidy for most. Loud mouth do-gooders if you ask me. I had no use for them. Mine were cut from a different mold.
My favorite was an under the radar kind of fella' most times, but hell's own ass whoopin' when aroused, and though troubled somewhat by his base nature it was not troublesome to the extent that it would cause him to refrain from indulging it. Let the big dog eat!

The Ghostrider movie is in production and he has a bitchin' bike.

This got me to thinkin'.....

All he needs is a sail !

Why a KLR650 ? Well, Grasshopper....

There's a reason the Marine Expeditionary force uses this bike.



A few minor modifications and it's a Battle Bike... A KiLR 650!

high bandwidth warning!

Spring has sprung!

and there's too much shit goin' on to blog. Sue me.

Queers on the whitehouse lawn

If this doesn't point up the reason fags want kids I don't know what does. Exploitation. They didn't bring the children for the children's sake. They brought the children for their sake. They want children to use them to further their goal of normalizing their particular perversion.