There She Goes

I sold the Daytona Saturday.

I think it went to a good home, where it will get a more attention than I could give it, and near Mt Ranier where there are some nice roads. But I'm still suffering from some sellers remorse.

Confusing Myself

Yes, it's been a long time. But, then again, none of you are paying for this so... too bad.

I confused myself over the weekend. I'm not very bright so I get confused alot, it's normal. But the way it happened still has me ... well, confused.

I have a 1987 Suzuki Intruder 1400. It was Suzuki's big V-Twin cruiser from the mid-80s. I bought it already well-used in 1993. Over the years I've put alot of money and effort into making it look the way I want. Some changes were just bolt-on (exhaust, wheels, hand controls) while others were mrore involved (custom tank, rear fender, side skirts).

Sadly, no matter how much paint and chrome I put on it, the bike never seemed to run very well.

I gave up. I don't have the time anymore to keep it running. I just want a bike that runs. I decided to do a bike transplant. Yep, a bike transplant. (I hear this is how Dr Jarvik got started.) The Intruder 1400 was almost completely unchanged during its entire run from 1986 through 2008. Some colors were changed, a few odds and ends, but honestly it's the same bike. I decided I'd buy another bike and swap all of my custom bits.

As it turns out, you can still buy a *new* Intruder 1400. (Now sold as the Suzuki S83.) These are 3-4 year old bikes that have never sold. With some factory offers and motivated dealers you can get them pretty cheap. And with a warranty.

I do some research and find a bike at a dealer that's well regarded. I load up the trailer, grab the checkbook, and head to Everett.

The bike is great. A 2008 with 22 miles on it (including the 8 from my test ride). All of my accessories (with one exception) should transfer over. The price, although not free, is reasonable and quite a bit lower than the price on the only other new S83 nearby.

I hear myself say "I'll take it." in my head several times. But the words never come out. I leave the dealer with an empty trailer and I don't know why.

Maybe it was the color, it was gold. I decide to drive to Monroe where the only other new S83 in the area is (it's black). I'll make them the same offer I was given in Everett. The Monroe dealer had earlier quoted me a price about $1500 higher but I'm convinced he'll take this.

I drive 30 minutes to Monroe, pull into the parking lot. Then sit there. I never even get out of the car. I don't want it.

I just spent all about 4 hours (and about $50 in gas) and I come home empty handed by my own choice.

I'm still very confused about what just happened.

Change of Pace

It's been an oddly hectic few weeks around here. I had hoped that my leave of absence from work would yield some nice quiet time, some time with the baby, and maybe some garage time. Alas, that hasn't been the case.

At the end of August I took my first (and probably only) trackday trip of 2010. I went to Oregon Raceway Park and rode with STAR. The original plan was to ride 4 consecutive days, 2 with NESBA and 2 with STAR but the economy has apparently overwhelmed NESBA and they cancelled a number of their events in the Northwest. Hopefully they'll be back in 2011.

The days with STAR were fabulous, as always. They run a very controlled event.

I'm definitely going slower than I have in previous years but it's fun anyway. Just to prove to myself that I'm slow I decided to take a ride on the back of Jason Pridmores bike. If you ever have the chance to ride on a bike piloted by a former AMA champion I suggest you take it. It will

a) Show you what a modern sport bike is really capable of.
2) Convince you that there are better riders than you. Period.
iii) Prove that some people have ice-water in their veins.

The ride starts simply enough. You climb on the back of his GSXR1000. (It's completely stock except for an after-market exhaust and a custom tank that has handles built into it for a passenger to hold onto. It even has DOT tires.) He turns and says "Just look over my shoulder as we lean and give me a little room to shift around on the bike. When we get to that sharp left at the end I'll ask if you want to go for another lap." Sounds easy enough.

Then a very odd thing happens. But after a few turns I get used to the fact that all the other bikes on the track must be in reverse.

The "sharp left at the end" is a 1st gear, downhill corner that's been my nemesis ever since I showed up at ORP. I hate it. But I figure he'll go through it, settle the bike in the short straight that follows, then yell something incomprehensible to me at which point I'll give him the "thumbs up" and we'll go around again.

That's not what happened.

Going *into* the corner, carrying more speed, and using more braking force than I ever have, he does the unthinkable. He lets go the bars, flips up his visor, turns his head and asks me "So, you okay for another round?". His voice is so flat you think he might be a waiter asking to refill your coffee.

Since I'm a sane person my response was "No! You idiot! Watch where you're going! Two hands! Two hands! Get me off this machine and away from this crazy man!" But I don't think my pronunciation was right. All I heard was my voice saying "Holy crap! Hell yes!"

Getting a Second Opinion

I took the bike to the local shop last week. It's had some clutch problems that I wanted to get resolved before my track day. After explaining the symptoms to the dealer I'm told "That's normal for your bike. You can't adjust it, that's just the way it is." Hmmmm... I don't think so.

Yesterday I went to a second dealer and explained things. "Have you tried bleeding the system again?" Uh no... and why didn't I think of that? "We have a BBQ today so grab a burger and we'll have someone take a quick look." 15 minutes later I've gotten my bike fixed, no charge, and a free lunch.

Nothing To See Here, Move Along.

Anandi and I were out in Bellevue a couple days ago and saw a Mercedes SL65 AMG. A very nice little toy. But, honestly, not terribly unusual in Bellevue. What was interesting was that it seemed to have a driving-buddy. Another silver Mercedes 2-door. A very sharp looking car but I couldn't quite place it.

Today, after some internet searching, I found it: A Mercedes SLS.



Now I just need two things: six good numbers and $1 for a lottery ticket.