Saturday, June 7, 2008

Cheating on my Baby...

So I haven't addressed it yet on this here blog, but I'm an avid motorcyclist, and for the last year and a half I've owned the bike of my dreams (See left). This is a Triumph Daytona 675, and for those of you not familiar with it, it is a three cylinder sportsbike that displaces 675 cubic centimeters. Triumph claim that the 675 puts out 123 horsepower out of the box, which means usually around 107-110 at the rear wheel (horsepower figures are usually measured at the engine crank, for both cars and motorcycles, so that when the power actually makes it to the drive wheels there is some power loss through parasitic drag, i.e. the transmission and the drive chain suck some of the power up) and if you factor in the fact that the 675 weighs around 417 lbs. when fully fuelled, it's quite a rocket. It revs up to 14,000 rpm before the rev limiter kicks in, and at that engine speed, the wailing of the bike is sonorous and absolutely beautiful; smooth yet raspy at the same time. The handling of the bike has always been of some concern to me however, as I've never really felt fully comfortable on it. The suspension is adjustable for preload, rebound damping and compression damping in both the front and rear, so this means that you can either make it ride very sweetly if you know what you're doing, or you can totally bugger it up if you don't, as in my personal case. Suspension theory is a black art/science, and I won't even pretend to understand it well enough to explain it here, but suffice it to say that the 675 is a quick-steering little animal, darty, and even a bit twitchy for my tastes. It's very aggressive in both its riding position and its overall feel, which is a revelation when you're in the right frame of mind, but slightly intimidating for a conservative rider such as me.

Today, though, after fiddling with the suspension over the last few weeks, I think I finally found the right mix of settings so that I felt much more comfortable when railing through some corners today on some twisty roads south of the city. I'm sure I wasn't as fast as I thought I was, but I'll just say that I haven't felt that good or that fast in a while. I'm preparing for a 3,000+ mile odyssey up to see my friend in Calgary, AB at the beginning of July, so I need to make sure to spend lots of time on the bike these next few weeks to ensure that my body's ready to be in position for 10+ hour days as I travel through Reno, northern Nevada, southeastern Idaho, and through Montana until finally reaching Alberta some 20 hours later! It'll be quite an adventure, and I need to get a camera to be sure to document it.

BUT, to take things back a little bit, the whole point of this post was to discuss the fact that last weekend I cheated. I rode a couple other motorcycles while the 675 sulked in a parking spot nearby, all in plain sight...

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The Dirty Deed

Buell is an American motorcycle company that was founded about 25 years ago by Erik Buell, an engineer, with a singular vision of applying some innovative and unconventional engineering principles to the paradigm of the sporting/racing motorcycle. Over the last ten years, Buells have been using tuned-up Harley-Davidson engines, since HD has been the sole owner of the Buell Motorcycle Company since 1998, so they emit that potato-potato-potato Harley sound that is the scourge of San Francisco tourists walking down the Embarcadero from the Giants ballpark (you get lots of Harleys accelerating hard with open exhaust pipes around there, ya know).

Having read a number of reviews of Buells over the years, I've always been interested in them, as much for their unconventional engineering solutions (holding the fuel in the frame of the motorcycle, mounting the exhaust under the engine, rather than out the side, and having one large front brake rotor that is mounted to the rim of the front wheel, rather than the hub, to name just a few innovations) as the fact that they're a fully American born and bred company. So when I heard that they were holding a Demo Day in Vallejo, CA last weekend, I knew I had to go over and see what these bikes were all about.

I've never been to a demo day for any motorcycle company before, so it was with some trepidation that I drove into the parking lot where the massive Buell truck and trailer were parked. It turned out that I had nothing to fear however, as the atmosphere was very laid-back, with a DJ spinning all types of music, guys sitting around chatting, and burgers at 12:30PM. You'd sign up, show your motorcycle endorsement on your license, and take out a bike for a 1/2 hour guided test drive with both a lead rider and a sweeper at the back. I was really hoping to be able to take off on my own with one of the bikes and to run at my own pace, since I figured the group rides would be pretty slow, but alas, it was not to be...

The first ride I chose the Firebolt XB12R, as I have read that it is the most "focused" of the Buells for sport riding. Start it up...boombadaboombadaboom...I look in the mirror and I see the world behind me zizzing around like so many reflections in broken shards of glass. Yeah, it vibrates a bit. The engine is alive, pulsating, rocking, coughing itself into life like a bear awakening from hibernation with a case of emphysema. The Buell rep who is running the show says mildly that the engine is a bit, ahem, "cold-blooded". I'll say! The engine is a Harley Sportster 1200 Evolution engine tuned for more performance, which means its engine architecture dates back to the mid-1950s or so, which isn't necessarily a bad thing; at least you know it's been around the block a few times...Still, at this point I'm just taken aback by how raucous this thing is without having even touched the throttle yet to start down the road. I get in behind a couple other riders after clunking into first gear using the agriculturally-smooth gearbox, and we start moving.

It's a half-hour test ride through downtown Vallejo and out to some moderately twisty roads running out past a mine and the backside of what looks to be some sort of refinery/factory unit, ending with a 4-5 mile blast down the highway so everyone can crank on the throttle some. Immediately, the Firebolt feels unlike anything I've ever ridden before; there's a plantedness to it, a certain organic sense to it, that helps it to feel "all-of-a-piece", as though it is a pretty good extension of myself, rather than just a machine. Buell's marketing materials call it "Intuitive Handling", which seems to be a pretty good way to sum it up. It took me a few minutes to look past the chunky vibes of the engine, however, to appreciate the rest of the motorcycle. First of all, I love the look of the thing --see below-- with its clean, bright white paint and contrasting blue windscreen and wheels. Secondly, the engine, despite its cold-bloodedness, feels fun, naughty even, and I understand why all those Harley guys love to put those loud-ass pipes on their bikes. Not that I would do that, mind you...

The first ride was quite slow for my taste, made worse by the fact that the other test riders ahead of me were hanging back and not letting the lead rider know to up the pace at all. I was a bit frustrated, but I figured I'd try again later, this time with a plan.

Upon returning to the lot to switch bikes, I decided to try the new 1125R, which is a completely new, mostly proprietary Buell with a water-cooled Rotax engine from Austria. This one is reputed to put out 146hp, according to Buell, so it's quite quick, then. I noticed that the engine sounds a lot like a parallel-twin when other riders were on them, which was a bit dissappointing, as I expected more trademark v-twin rumble from America's sole sportsbike maker. Nevertheless, I gave it a shot, and while the 1125R was undoubtedly fast as hell and more refined than the Firebolt, it is not the Buell I want. My Triumph is already too fast for me, so why would I want a bike that has over 20hp more? The big difference in this ride, other than the bike, was that I made sure to be right behind the lead rider, and the pace was, let us say, more spirited this time. I was grinning like crazy on the bike, amazed at how it let me do what I felt like so easily and was so competent, yet when the hammer went down, oh boy, it just shot down the road. Still, it ain't for me, necessarily.

So the third time in the lot, I decided to take the Firebolt again, to give it a proper go, riding right behind the lead rider again. Unfortunately, the pace was slow again, and so I didn't get to push the bike's handling that much, but still, I gained some insight on the Buell philosophy. Mass centralization - placing the weight as close to the center of the bike as possible - is a damn effective idea. It took a big shove on the bars to get the bike to turn quickly, but I realized after the fact that I wouldn't take the liberties I took with the Buell on my Triumph. Where the Triumph is a ginsu blade made for slicing, dicing and being as precise as possible, the Buell was more of a broadsword with training wheels: a manly - sorry ladies - motorcycle that still manages to give you a massive confidence boost, which ultimately is a more valuable character trait than any amount of power or technology. I wish I could be more specific with my comments on the handling of the Buell, since it left such a massive impression on me, but alas, my time with the bike was too brief, and I didn't take notes on how it felt at the time.

So I get back on the Triumph, start it up, and it settles into its familiar triple drone. I pull out of the parking lot, marvelling at how sewing-machine smooth it is after the bucking bronco Firebolt and shove on the handlebars to make a left turn...and almost crash. The Buell had gotten me so used to its style of handling, to shoving on the bars hard to get that mass-centralized mass to turn properly, that I used an inordinate amount of force on the Triumph without realizing it, and the quick-steering little 675 turned far more quickly than I had expected. That's when I realized just how different riding the Buell really was for me; it made my own bike, the bike of my dreams seem alien and a little bit uncomfortable. I had trusted the front-end of the Buell so much, so implicitly, that I steered it in a way that I never would on the Triumph. For the rest of the long ride home I was walking on eggshells, not trusting myself to steer the 675 to its liking, and not trusting the bike to cover up any mistakes I might make.

At this point, I started feeling guilty for my transgression, for having cheated. The touch of another lover had soured me on my first love, and I couldn't look at the 675 in the same way again. Which is not to say that I am not still enamored of the Triumph, far from it! This is just to say that the Firebolt showed me an alternate motorcycling reality, one in which my motorcycle skills were broadened and expanded by the bike, rather than scoffed at and ultimately inhibited by my own fears. The Triumph is a bike you approach (or at least, I approach) on bended knee, cowering in the face of its abilities and its single-mindedness, while the Buell is even more single-minded, yet somehow uplifting, asking you to ride with it on an adventure together. Well, that sounds pretty sappy, but at this moment, I don't have any other good way to describe it, and this post is getting excessively long.

Hopefully I can put a used Firebolt in my garage sometime in the near future, as I really liked that bike, and I really like the fact that it's American and distinctive. In the meantime, I'll definitely go back for another demo day next time Buell comes back to the Bay Area, and if they come to your area, give them a shot, you won't regret it.


Yeah, I'm happy on "my" Firebolt - mass centralization rawks!

Friday, May 16, 2008

Gay Marriage in California: Legal?

So I have to comment, after a significant hiatus, on the events yesterday here involving the California Supreme Court. Yes, the court, consisting of 6 moderate Republican judges and 1 Democrat judge, voted 4-3 to declare California's state law that only allows marriage to occur between a man and a woman unconstitutional. While people around the country will surely have vastly different views of the ruling, and indeed, it might be a short-lived celebration for those of us who support the equal rights of our gay friends and relatives to marry, it is a celebration nevertheless. They don't call it "gay" for nothing; the Castro community here in SF set up an impromptu street party to celebrate with a truck with big ol' speakers and a DJ on it, and I went over myself just to see what was going on and to raise a celebratory glass with my lesbian friends. None of them are getting married, mind you, but still, it was a day of joy, and it deserves my support as a straight white male as well!

Just being in the Castro, it felt as though everyone let out a collective sigh of relief; there was definitely lots of happiness, but it mainly seemed as though people were saying "finally a positive resolution" to each other and to themselves. Beyond that, it just was so positive more than anything else, it was so full of unbridled enthusiasm that it was infectious. With so much to get a person down in recent days, with natural disasters left and right, a contentious election season that doesn't seem to make anybody feel good, and the economy tanking and taking down most of the country with it, it just felt like the people of San Francisco got a bit of a reprieve yesterday.

Today I came across an article by Mark Morford, one of my favorite columnists, who is always reliably irreverent, and beyond his baiting of the cultural conservatives out there, he makes the very valid point that this court ruling, and the Massachusetts ruling before it, does nothing to directly hurt anybody or infringe on anyone's rights. Let me reiterate that; despite however you may feel about gay marriage personally, or about homosexuality in general, what two people do in their own homes ultimately has nothing to do with you. I have had conversations with friends and thought for a while myself about what the problem is with expanding the definition of "marriage" to homosexual couples, and beyond people's visceral reactions to it, I still can't see the issue. Religious beliefs certainly will color one's views of marriage and what it represents, but as the saying goes, there are as many religions in the world as there are people, so someone's orthodoxy could very well be another's apostasy.

Anyways, I don't want this post to devolve into total relativism, so I'll stop here. Just let me say that I'm happy for my friends and I'm happy for our society. Whether this ruling stands come November or not, the fact that it has happened is a positive step for us all.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Weekend Travels


So I traveled to Austin, TX for a family wedding this past weekend, and boy is Austin a nice town. I was excited to get there, for the barbecue (wish I had found this site before I left!), the warm weather, and the simple fact that I'd never set foot in Texas apart from the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport.

The weather was consistently in the mid-70s to 80s the whole weekend, with a bit of humidity that reminded me of summers in Boston, and that warmth extended very nicely into the evenings as well.

Some of my cousins and I decided to explore the nightlife Austin has to offer on Friday night, since we had all heard great things about the city, and we happened to come across Sixth Street, which we very quickly found out is the center of Austin's live music scene, and a veritable paradise for the college set. The streets get blocked off by the police, and thousands of twenty-somethings (and not-quite twenty-somethings, for sure) are out roaming from bar to bar and club to club (grainily depicted in the cell-phone photo above). I've honestly never seen anything like it that wasn't a special occasion of some sort, and the whole ordeal made me feel quite old, since it seemed as though the vast majority of the University of Texas' 50,000 students had all descended on this one street that evening, with most of them appearing the better part of ten years younger than me. In any case, I fulfilled my goal of drinking a Lone Star, the "national beer of Texas", and it really wasn't any worse than your average Bud or Coors, with slightly more flavor, even. In fact, it tasted surprisingly like a PBR, which isn't so odd, considering that Lone Star is now owned by Pabst.

Austin, however, didn't feel like Texas, really. I don't know what exactly Texas is supposed to feel like, but I suppose it involves "liberal, left-coast, San Francisco" me feeling slightly uncomfortable at the "gun-racked, mud tired, carbon-spewing evangelical Republicanness" of it all. I guess Austin was too easy for me, in a way; a place that I could actually envision myself living at some point in my life, whereas my conventional view of Texas as being a great repository of all that is not-me has always made me somewhat intrigued yet fearful of the state.

On flying out from Austin on Sunday en route to Phoenix, I was able to see some of what I had thought were steppes out towards the western end of the state, but it turns out I was wrong as to what I saw. Those formations were quite beautiful from 37,000 feet up, and I really want to go back, either on a motorcycle or in a car to explore the West Texas backcountry further.

Ideally, I'd like to find out more about the Texas the recently departed Molly Ivins profiles below; the one that speaks of the mythology of the old west (and the terrible "ort" that goes with it) enjoy.


Friday, April 4, 2008

Post #1 and a Mission Statement (subject to revision)

Well here I am.

After having hemmed and hawed mentally for six months over whether to start a blog or not, whether to actually commit some of the thoughts in my head to virtual paper, I'm doing it. Just doing it.

As opposed to starting up a blog about me me me, akin to a MySpace or Facebook page, but more boring and with a lot fewer nice photos to look at, I thought I'd use my virtual soapbox to attempt to answer a series of questions that have plagued me to no end for some time now: Why is it that, in the most interconnected, information-filled moment in human history, my peers are so cut off from the wider world? Why does it seem that well-informed teenagers, twenty- and thirty-somethings are the exception these days, rather than the norm? With so much of our country's future riding on our generation, it seems mind-boggling to me.

It has occurred to me recently that I could do something positive for my friends and relatives who are busy and involved in their own lives, but who are still interested in what's going on in the world. I determined that I could start a blog where I compile some of the major stories every few days that I think my friends ought to be aware of, and then attempt to couch those stories within a wider context, all the while referencing the more "authoritative" news sources that I get the stories from to ensure that people can make their own judgements. This way, anyone who wants a little shot of the news will be able to stop by the site and see what's what, in my humble opinion. At least, that's what I envision...

In addition to news and serious subject matter like that, I'm sure I'll indulge myself in some commentary about life in the Bay Area, music, food, and most certainly motorcycles. We'll see what kind of blogger I turn out to be, and if things go particularly well, perhaps I'll create some subsites that cover these other topics, but I'm getting way ahead of myself now.

Clearly I'm tweaking the blog layout right now, and I'll be adding far more to it in the very near future, but I just had to get over this initial hurdle of the first post, so apologies if it's been a terribly boring slog. Here's some Earth, Wind & Fire to make it up to you: