What is it about these here intertoobs that make otherwise mellow folks into raging douche-nozzles? How many of us have been nuked by some self proclaimed expert on one forum of another for having the temerity to be 'The New Guy'?
(cue scary theme music)
The simple solution; just don't play. Move on and find somewhere else to get your questions answered. Yes, there will always be a fat, pimply, basement dwelling, lube palmed hero poster who will try and start shit. They're everywhere because it's cool to be an anonymous dickhead on the 'net. However, those 'guys' tend to get themselves shut down and/or shunted off in short order. If however you find yourself in the midst of a feeding frenzy, just calmly walk away. There are other places so don't sweat the petty shit. And it's all petty...
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Makin' shit #1
Ok, looks like I can upload photos directly so for the time being Photobucket, Picassa et al can pound sand.
Making billet aluminum triple clamps
Get yourself some material, in this case some nice 7/8" 6061-t6 aluminum plate. The blue is dykem markout dye.
Make some holes.
There are a few missing steps here because I was too busy making a mess to take pictures. These are for a CB450 with the steering deraked to 25*, to keep the trail within tolerable range the offset was decreases approximately 5mm, though I'm pulling that out of my back pocket because again...I was too busy making them to pay attention once the initial calculations were done. Both plates are bolted together and all bores are started with an end mill plunge to allow for boring head clearance.
Clean out yer hole!
At this point the bores are cut to spec with one of two boring bars. These are going to house some custom built 37mm Showa cartridge forks and a Honda spec heavy wall stem. Note, the bottom clamp has some extra cutting to accommodate the larger diameter of the stem at the bottom.
(bottom stem rebore)
Here I've roughed in one cut on a ragged old bandsaw, then back to the mill to cut it to spec and a final pass with a flycutter.
After the boundary areas are cut to shape I bore, counterbore then tap for the clamp screws.
Using a slitting saw in the mill allows the clamp relief to be cut neatly so that when the bolt is brought to torque the fork leg will be clamped firmly in place.
Knocking off the corner. I'd intended to use the rotary table to make nice round ends but found that it needed some love so these are a little geometric.....
Adding some lightness (plus it looks neat too!) Not shown are a series of 5/8"d pegs tapped into the table slots at predetermined locations that allowed me to clamp the work piece down, then reposition for additional cuts and have them come out right.
And finally the finished pieces, and a lightly modified stock piece for visual reference. Note that these pieces clamp the stem in place top and bottom, not shown is the 1/8" lip and pin at the bottom of the stem to help index it to the bottom clamp. I'll try to get better at taking pictures as I go along......
Just for my Brutha Fruma Nutha Mutha Troy, here's a little Seasick Steve: Doghouse Boogie
Making billet aluminum triple clamps
Get yourself some material, in this case some nice 7/8" 6061-t6 aluminum plate. The blue is dykem markout dye.
There are a few missing steps here because I was too busy making a mess to take pictures. These are for a CB450 with the steering deraked to 25*, to keep the trail within tolerable range the offset was decreases approximately 5mm, though I'm pulling that out of my back pocket because again...I was too busy making them to pay attention once the initial calculations were done. Both plates are bolted together and all bores are started with an end mill plunge to allow for boring head clearance.
Clean out yer hole!
At this point the bores are cut to spec with one of two boring bars. These are going to house some custom built 37mm Showa cartridge forks and a Honda spec heavy wall stem. Note, the bottom clamp has some extra cutting to accommodate the larger diameter of the stem at the bottom.
Here I've roughed in one cut on a ragged old bandsaw, then back to the mill to cut it to spec and a final pass with a flycutter.
Just for my Brutha Fruma Nutha Mutha Troy, here's a little Seasick Steve: Doghouse Boogie
Monday, July 11, 2011
Big Fat Music Monday
I have always been a little schizophrenic when it comes to music. It got worse when we moved to Tokyo; as a 15 year-old I was pretty lost there until I found a record store at the outdoor market near our home, that rented American music albums (vinyl) and sold highend cassette tapes and equipment for dubbing your own cassettes. For 300yen....about $1.30 at the time you got the platter of your choice, a metal cassette and could enjoy the vinyl for a week to boot! If I remember correctly there was some 5000 albums to select from. ODB just reminded me that they did have classical, jazz and early electronica as well as the 'shit you listen to'.
When we left the land of the rising sun I had some 600 or so tapes, all over the board as far as genre is concerned. I could have had more but around the 2 month mark I discovered 'Japanese Highschool Girls'......but that's another story all together.
I have also had the good luck to be introduced to all sorts of new music from friends and acquaintances, so in honor of Big Fat Music Monday (it's a holiday somewhere....):
The amazingly talented Emily Wells (best use of kids toys)
The incomparable Camille O'Sullivan (Best Nick Cave cover EVER!!!! Thanks for this one Troy!)
Tom Waites.....
When we left the land of the rising sun I had some 600 or so tapes, all over the board as far as genre is concerned. I could have had more but around the 2 month mark I discovered 'Japanese Highschool Girls'......but that's another story all together.
I have also had the good luck to be introduced to all sorts of new music from friends and acquaintances, so in honor of Big Fat Music Monday (it's a holiday somewhere....):
The amazingly talented Emily Wells (best use of kids toys)
The incomparable Camille O'Sullivan (Best Nick Cave cover EVER!!!! Thanks for this one Troy!)
Tom Waites.....
"Tom Waits' songs are like a Tennessee Williams play; the sound of people living together in separate silent hells." ~ Unknown online commenter
John Prine ......because he's John Prine
Junkyard...fat, sticky 80's rock sound!
In the 80's I had the same hair as the lead singer and dressed like BonJovi. It worked to my advantage in Japan.....I was HUGE in Japan.
The Stones.
Towns Van Zandt
Thanks to the Barbarian Horde, thanks for following I hope you're diggin' it.
More to come.......
Thursday, July 7, 2011
YAY!! My first hate mail.....
I found this gem in my spam folder just now and had to put it up here; in the spirit of honest repartee and all. And to make fun of it, because the sender is a douchebag fucktard who should have his testicles removed to assure that he doesn't breed. Seriously, do we need more shitheads? I think not, there are enough already. Just look to any state capital.......
On to the fun:
(Yeah I changed the email....I'm really just a big softy)
Where to to start? Ok, first off you drooling moron, get a damned education. Though I was able to get the jist, not only can you not spell but your only option for punctuation is an exclamation point.....and you're too fucking stupid to use spell correct on the community center pc you were greasing up. Idiot.
Oh and fuck you! Go somewhere else?.....hey Jose, dunno if you noticed but you're in MY COUNTRY. Just because I want to read signage in English here in AMERICA you fucking entitled welfare sponge, doesn't mean that I have anything against Mexicans. In fact, I can generally find something to like about most people. I love a good burrito. What bothers me are losers just like you, living off the dole and squirting out anchor babies.
But tell your Mom I said thanks for cleaning my bathroom, she did a great job.
Fucktard (I really like that word)
For the record: I don't really have a problem with people of different races. I know some gay folk who are just great and I'm Universalist enough to not give two shits what your religion is so long as you don't force it on me. I just hate assholes.
In honor of Mr.Fucktard P. Welfarecheck above I give you the words of my favorite American:
On to the fun:
Your a fucking racist motherf*cker! You white ass peace of shit if my boys knew were to find you, you wood learn a leson with an axe handle! If you hate MEXICANS so much go somewere else! Fuck you!
-Juan Valdez@anchorbaby.com
(Yeah I changed the email....I'm really just a big softy)
Oh and fuck you! Go somewhere else?.....hey Jose, dunno if you noticed but you're in MY COUNTRY. Just because I want to read signage in English here in AMERICA you fucking entitled welfare sponge, doesn't mean that I have anything against Mexicans. In fact, I can generally find something to like about most people. I love a good burrito. What bothers me are losers just like you, living off the dole and squirting out anchor babies.
But tell your Mom I said thanks for cleaning my bathroom, she did a great job.
Fucktard (I really like that word)
For the record: I don't really have a problem with people of different races. I know some gay folk who are just great and I'm Universalist enough to not give two shits what your religion is so long as you don't force it on me. I just hate assholes.
In honor of Mr.Fucktard P. Welfarecheck above I give you the words of my favorite American:
We should insist that if the immigrant who comes here does in good faith become an American and assimilates himself to us he shall be treated on an exact equality with every one else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed or birth-place or origin.
But this is predicated upon the man's becoming in very fact an American and nothing but an American. If he tries to keep segregated with men of his own origin and separated from the rest of America, then he isn't doing his part as an American. There can be no divided allegiance here. . . We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language, for we intend to see that the crucible turns our people out as Americans, of American nationality, and not as dwellers in a polyglot boarding-house; and we have room for but one soul loyalty, and that is loyalty to the American people.
But this is predicated upon the man's becoming in very fact an American and nothing but an American. If he tries to keep segregated with men of his own origin and separated from the rest of America, then he isn't doing his part as an American. There can be no divided allegiance here. . . We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language, for we intend to see that the crucible turns our people out as Americans, of American nationality, and not as dwellers in a polyglot boarding-house; and we have room for but one soul loyalty, and that is loyalty to the American people.
-Theodore Roosevelt 1919
(letter to the president of the American Defense Society)
More fourth of July shit...this is funnier
Her cooking is drunken and funny, mine is just drunken, well....and maybe a little angry. Watch her......really.
For more of this shit, go here: http://www.youtube.com/user/MyHarto
or
www.hartoandco.com
More to come...
For more of this shit, go here: http://www.youtube.com/user/MyHarto
or
www.hartoandco.com
More to come...
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
For now I'll call these "Mike's Ramblings" though we'll work on a better name..
Not long ago our fearless leader here at Homage, or as some know him, “El Presidente Mandingo the Glorious” asked me if I would be interested in writing some essays for his Big MF’n Blog. Well, not so much write essays, as half drunkenly scribbled ramblings that may be considered interesting to the great heaving pile of humanity, and send them his way. Sure I said your Excellence, sure…
Well, after several weeks of celebrating the good old USofA’s birthday, sadly watching two close friends suffer the losses of their fathers (both great men, who will be missed), and your usual soul lifting/crushing day to day life experiences, I think I may have finally found reason to bravely spew forth upon you the truth, or something much uglier. We shall see.
Let me really start by saying thank you to our man Lee here. Not only is a hell of a machinist and fabricator, but also the kind of friend any man would be lucky to call “Oh High and Righteous Leader” (that’s what you told me to write, right?). In the few years that I have known this man, I have seen him create some things from raw metal that would make the Tin-Man blow a load in his alloy shorts. Parts that now reside on bikes across this country and beyond, proudly displayed by their owners knowing that the bit in question is of the highest quality. And every clip on mount, headlight ear, or foot-peg bracket made by hand in the shop of a true craftsman. A true craftsman, who after toiling at his various machines for hours every day, still had the decency to write to me and commend me on my fledging (or is that flailing) attempts at writing about the world we live in. Hell of a guy Lee is, and if you disagree… Well, he’s a hell of a big guy too, so take that up with him.
Ok… Now that the ass kissing is out of the way.
I noticed something very interesting recently. A fellow (unknown to me personally) rider recently lost his life in a motorcycle accident and afterwards, the media and several people I know took the circumstances surrounding his death to ridicule and make fun of the deceased. Really kids? That’s our society now? Goddamn shame. The man made a decision, and it cost him his life. He was a grown up, and I am sure understood the possible outcome of his choice. And now he is dead. His family will mourn, his friends will suffer. But, apparently that isn’t enough for the people of the world. We have to turn it into a debate about what our rights are. An argument about who gets to tell who what to do in their lives. How about we save the political pandering till the guy is six deep at least, huh folks? And if you don’t know the story I’m talking about, watch the news every so often ya friggin’ weirdo!
On second thought, don’t bother. Nothing much there but sad stories and made up bull shit.
Another faint odor of a thought that’s been floating through my skull as of late has to do with the overall custom bike industry. I am in NO WAY a part of that or any other industry, but I do try to follow it somewhat closely. Maybe it’s because of my shop ownership pipe dreams, or the fact that I am sexually aroused by vintage motorcycles. Wait, I meant intellectually aroused… Ya, that’s it.
Anyhow, I as an outsider couldn’t be happier about the seeming lack of interest in the “INDUSTRY” by the general public as of late. Sure, plenty of shops are going under, and one time bike “builders” are heading back to their accounting firms to beg for their “real” jobs back, but that’s all good if you ask me. And, I know you were about to. Now what we’re seeing are the real innovators and creators at work again. The guys who founded the principles of bikes as functional art are again free to make some two wheeled, fire breathing magic without fucking camera crews up their asses. They can build without every NASCAR loving tool and his unruly brats trying to get his autograph on an eight dollar Wal-Mart “CHOPPERS FOR LIFE” T-shirt. There are great things ahead for those of us that are carnall… I mean spiritually attracted to these machines, and this life. I mean those of us that really spend our time learning the history of motorcycles. Those of us that get lost on our garages for hours, just trying to figure out a new way to mount a killer taillight on a chopped CB750, or some off the wall brakes for that custom Panhead. Keep it up folks. And keep telling the plastic gangsters that we aren’t interested in what they’re selling. Eventually your fishing hat wearing neighbor will go back to thinking you’re a scumbag, and looking away when you roll into the driveway instead of running over to ask if you saw that new neat-o OCC bike on TV last night.
And really, can we ask for much more in life?
I think not.
Well shoot. I think that’s all I can really complain about for now. Hopefully you all out there in cyber land dig it. If not, oh well, maybe next time. Keep it real folks.
-Mike D
Well, after several weeks of celebrating the good old USofA’s birthday, sadly watching two close friends suffer the losses of their fathers (both great men, who will be missed), and your usual soul lifting/crushing day to day life experiences, I think I may have finally found reason to bravely spew forth upon you the truth, or something much uglier. We shall see.
Let me really start by saying thank you to our man Lee here. Not only is a hell of a machinist and fabricator, but also the kind of friend any man would be lucky to call “Oh High and Righteous Leader” (that’s what you told me to write, right?). In the few years that I have known this man, I have seen him create some things from raw metal that would make the Tin-Man blow a load in his alloy shorts. Parts that now reside on bikes across this country and beyond, proudly displayed by their owners knowing that the bit in question is of the highest quality. And every clip on mount, headlight ear, or foot-peg bracket made by hand in the shop of a true craftsman. A true craftsman, who after toiling at his various machines for hours every day, still had the decency to write to me and commend me on my fledging (or is that flailing) attempts at writing about the world we live in. Hell of a guy Lee is, and if you disagree… Well, he’s a hell of a big guy too, so take that up with him.
Ok… Now that the ass kissing is out of the way.
I noticed something very interesting recently. A fellow (unknown to me personally) rider recently lost his life in a motorcycle accident and afterwards, the media and several people I know took the circumstances surrounding his death to ridicule and make fun of the deceased. Really kids? That’s our society now? Goddamn shame. The man made a decision, and it cost him his life. He was a grown up, and I am sure understood the possible outcome of his choice. And now he is dead. His family will mourn, his friends will suffer. But, apparently that isn’t enough for the people of the world. We have to turn it into a debate about what our rights are. An argument about who gets to tell who what to do in their lives. How about we save the political pandering till the guy is six deep at least, huh folks? And if you don’t know the story I’m talking about, watch the news every so often ya friggin’ weirdo!
On second thought, don’t bother. Nothing much there but sad stories and made up bull shit.
Another faint odor of a thought that’s been floating through my skull as of late has to do with the overall custom bike industry. I am in NO WAY a part of that or any other industry, but I do try to follow it somewhat closely. Maybe it’s because of my shop ownership pipe dreams, or the fact that I am sexually aroused by vintage motorcycles. Wait, I meant intellectually aroused… Ya, that’s it.
Anyhow, I as an outsider couldn’t be happier about the seeming lack of interest in the “INDUSTRY” by the general public as of late. Sure, plenty of shops are going under, and one time bike “builders” are heading back to their accounting firms to beg for their “real” jobs back, but that’s all good if you ask me. And, I know you were about to. Now what we’re seeing are the real innovators and creators at work again. The guys who founded the principles of bikes as functional art are again free to make some two wheeled, fire breathing magic without fucking camera crews up their asses. They can build without every NASCAR loving tool and his unruly brats trying to get his autograph on an eight dollar Wal-Mart “CHOPPERS FOR LIFE” T-shirt. There are great things ahead for those of us that are carnall… I mean spiritually attracted to these machines, and this life. I mean those of us that really spend our time learning the history of motorcycles. Those of us that get lost on our garages for hours, just trying to figure out a new way to mount a killer taillight on a chopped CB750, or some off the wall brakes for that custom Panhead. Keep it up folks. And keep telling the plastic gangsters that we aren’t interested in what they’re selling. Eventually your fishing hat wearing neighbor will go back to thinking you’re a scumbag, and looking away when you roll into the driveway instead of running over to ask if you saw that new neat-o OCC bike on TV last night.
And really, can we ask for much more in life?
I think not.
Well shoot. I think that’s all I can really complain about for now. Hopefully you all out there in cyber land dig it. If not, oh well, maybe next time. Keep it real folks.
-Mike D
Mike, it's actually "Oh Bright and Luminous Leader", not that I make it a habit to correct those who dole out the love, as it were, but I am shiny.
I am...
Shiny.
A shiny, shiny man......
A 5th of July rant.......
My town kinda blows....
I've had the opportunity to live all over the place; other countries, different states here in the US etc., but for whatever reason I always end up back here. Over the years this sleepy little piece of Hometown America has slowly, inexorably dwindled. That's the best way I can think of to put it. When we moved here (the first time) this was a pretty little Norman Rockwell picture of small town life. Main street really was the main street, high-school football was a big deal and on any given Saturday evening, one could wander into the drug store, sit on a stool in front of a 1920's Formica bar and order a milkshake.
Now mainstreet is threadbare, more shops are closed than open, mainly because there's a Wallfart mega store opened up just down the road. As well, over 50% of the businesses here have signage in Spanish and you don't speak the language, you're a jerk and you're not gonna get service. It's no longer safe for an attractive woman to walk around the block after dark. The cops here would rather write a parking ticket or beat a retard to death than actually stop crime. Oh they'll get all fired up if it's a big one that might get media attention but that's about it.
But even worse than that? No fucking fireworks on the 4th.
Lame.
Every immigrant who comes here should be required within five years to learn English or leave the country.
~Theodore Roosevelt
I've had the opportunity to live all over the place; other countries, different states here in the US etc., but for whatever reason I always end up back here. Over the years this sleepy little piece of Hometown America has slowly, inexorably dwindled. That's the best way I can think of to put it. When we moved here (the first time) this was a pretty little Norman Rockwell picture of small town life. Main street really was the main street, high-school football was a big deal and on any given Saturday evening, one could wander into the drug store, sit on a stool in front of a 1920's Formica bar and order a milkshake.
Now mainstreet is threadbare, more shops are closed than open, mainly because there's a Wallfart mega store opened up just down the road. As well, over 50% of the businesses here have signage in Spanish and you don't speak the language, you're a jerk and you're not gonna get service. It's no longer safe for an attractive woman to walk around the block after dark. The cops here would rather write a parking ticket or beat a retard to death than actually stop crime. Oh they'll get all fired up if it's a big one that might get media attention but that's about it.
But even worse than that? No fucking fireworks on the 4th.
Lame.
Every immigrant who comes here should be required within five years to learn English or leave the country.
~Theodore Roosevelt
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
An introduction, attaining metric steel, a little eye candy and...I'm an idiot.
Well...what the hell, why don't I start from the bottom and work my way up?
I'm an idiot.
I try to keep things under control, I try to keep a weather eye out and a stiff upper lip and all that shit. Generally I trundle through life on a fairly even keel (I gotta dig up better cliches...these suck), I don't cause myself too much grief unless there's a woman or an engine around. They try to kill me...
Anyway, I'm making piles of parts these days which is a good thing. Unfortunately I recently shipped some parts to the wrong kat, well they were the right parts but out of sequence. He got his way before they were due to him and the original customer has had to wait.
My apologies Jack, I did however burn thru and made a fresh set or clip-on blocks for you and in doing so came up with a new design so you're getting 'Type 2' version one. I hope you dig'm, they look cool as hell and should do a fine job for you. As soon as I get your hardware together they'll be on the way priority mail. Thanks for your patience, there's a couple extremely light aluminum handlebars included. And I won't call you John anymore...that's that other guy...heh.
Metric steel
Ya know, I'm kinda pissed. I made some really nice rearset plates for a CB650 and the plan has been to make some extended engine bolts with which to mount them on the bike. I live hear Portland Oregon, a major port city. We have industry here, steel yards, fabrication shops.......why the hell is is difficult to get 4140 bar stock in metric sizes here of all places. They pounded the metric system into our tender little brains in gradeschool, saying that the entire world would be using it exclusively before we all got to middle school.
............yeah right.
Ryan, I have confirmation that the material is on it's way......no....really.
For those of you wondering, yeah I could turn down some SAE material but there are a few things I would worry on. Turning say....1/2" stock down to 12mm and isn't much more than a skinning job, but expensive as this is adding just that would be enough to basically double the cost, from steep to effing ridiculous. As well, stress-riser fractures under stress (say 9000rpm heeled over in a corner) letting the engine loose in the frame would potentially be catastrophic. I'm all for chaos and carnage now and then to keep things fresh but putting my friends and customers in mortal danger...not so much.
Perfect
A welcome and a glimpse of what's to come
I have plans. Cunning plans. Plans that involve booze and parties and burnups and a midget. I'm still looking for a suitable midge.
A part of that cunning plan is to grow this blog into something more. To that end I've enlisted the help of my buddy Mike. Known cryptically as 'VonYinzer' out there on the toobz, he'll be waxing rhapsodic for your edification and education. Mike can write him some powerful words.......
(you're on the spot now mister!)
I'm an idiot.
I try to keep things under control, I try to keep a weather eye out and a stiff upper lip and all that shit. Generally I trundle through life on a fairly even keel (I gotta dig up better cliches...these suck), I don't cause myself too much grief unless there's a woman or an engine around. They try to kill me...
Anyway, I'm making piles of parts these days which is a good thing. Unfortunately I recently shipped some parts to the wrong kat, well they were the right parts but out of sequence. He got his way before they were due to him and the original customer has had to wait.
My apologies Jack, I did however burn thru and made a fresh set or clip-on blocks for you and in doing so came up with a new design so you're getting 'Type 2' version one. I hope you dig'm, they look cool as hell and should do a fine job for you. As soon as I get your hardware together they'll be on the way priority mail. Thanks for your patience, there's a couple extremely light aluminum handlebars included. And I won't call you John anymore...that's that other guy...heh.
Metric steel
Ya know, I'm kinda pissed. I made some really nice rearset plates for a CB650 and the plan has been to make some extended engine bolts with which to mount them on the bike. I live hear Portland Oregon, a major port city. We have industry here, steel yards, fabrication shops.......why the hell is is difficult to get 4140 bar stock in metric sizes here of all places. They pounded the metric system into our tender little brains in gradeschool, saying that the entire world would be using it exclusively before we all got to middle school.
............yeah right.
Ryan, I have confirmation that the material is on it's way......no....really.
For those of you wondering, yeah I could turn down some SAE material but there are a few things I would worry on. Turning say....1/2" stock down to 12mm and isn't much more than a skinning job, but expensive as this is adding just that would be enough to basically double the cost, from steep to effing ridiculous. As well, stress-riser fractures under stress (say 9000rpm heeled over in a corner) letting the engine loose in the frame would potentially be catastrophic. I'm all for chaos and carnage now and then to keep things fresh but putting my friends and customers in mortal danger...not so much.
Perfect
A welcome and a glimpse of what's to come
I have plans. Cunning plans. Plans that involve booze and parties and burnups and a midget. I'm still looking for a suitable midge.
A part of that cunning plan is to grow this blog into something more. To that end I've enlisted the help of my buddy Mike. Known cryptically as 'VonYinzer' out there on the toobz, he'll be waxing rhapsodic for your edification and education. Mike can write him some powerful words.......
(you're on the spot now mister!)
Monday, June 20, 2011
Wisdom
-Charles Fucking Bukowski
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Handcrafted in Chennai
Love'm or not, the Royal Enfield motorcycle is an icon.
Still being built by hand in India, based on designs that harken back to a finer time with a only few small updates to carry the old horse into the future.
Metal, rubber, oil and gas. I can respect that.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Amy8yS9OTQE
Still being built by hand in India, based on designs that harken back to a finer time with a only few small updates to carry the old horse into the future.
Metal, rubber, oil and gas. I can respect that.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Amy8yS9OTQE
Monday, June 13, 2011
Huzzah Monday!
Oh....who the hell am I kidding......Mondays blow, there's no way around it. Whether your weekend consisted of working, wrenching on your ride, sitting around your dimly lit one room apartment in your underwear...whatever.....it's still better than Monday morning.
Unless you're a stripper.......then Monday is probably your day off. Unless you're really ugly, fat or are missing a leg. THEN you're the Monday attraction.
I saw a one legged stripper once. She got mad because I didn't want to watch her hop around the stage. That and her stump ended right where the 'bits' were.....and that was oddly discomfiting.
Definitely not a one legged stripper, Norma Jean does helps take some of the sting from a Monday.
Ok on to business........
Rich: your rearset plates are in a box and will be shipped to you this afternoon.
They turned out nice and light, lots of strength too. Let me know how they do for you. I imagine you'll need a shim or two when mounting them up, I did the best I could but those OE cast bases were....umm......organic in nature. I left you several peg position options as well so you should be able to fit the bike to yourself nicely.
This week.....it's clip-on blocks.....all week long! Woooo.......
(lots of work is a good problem to have!)
I'll have more to post later today or tomorrow. Should have a functional computer again so posting pictures here should be workable. That'll be nice.
Last bit, I'm looking for ideas here so now's the time for your input: What do you want to see here? I've got some things in mind, a weekly interview series comes to mind. I know a lot of weirdos and they all have lots to say. Should prove interesting.
I'd like to profile some of the local Portland area shops and bike related locations, shows etc, that's in the works. What else would make this an interesting place to visit for you intertoob motorcycle refugees? Lemme know, comment here, email me: homagemotoworks-at-gmail-dot-com , carrier pigeon, singing telegram...whatever.
Unless you're a stripper.......then Monday is probably your day off. Unless you're really ugly, fat or are missing a leg. THEN you're the Monday attraction.
I saw a one legged stripper once. She got mad because I didn't want to watch her hop around the stage. That and her stump ended right where the 'bits' were.....and that was oddly discomfiting.
Ok on to business........
Rich: your rearset plates are in a box and will be shipped to you this afternoon.
They turned out nice and light, lots of strength too. Let me know how they do for you. I imagine you'll need a shim or two when mounting them up, I did the best I could but those OE cast bases were....umm......organic in nature. I left you several peg position options as well so you should be able to fit the bike to yourself nicely.
This week.....it's clip-on blocks.....all week long! Woooo.......
(lots of work is a good problem to have!)
I'll have more to post later today or tomorrow. Should have a functional computer again so posting pictures here should be workable. That'll be nice.
Last bit, I'm looking for ideas here so now's the time for your input: What do you want to see here? I've got some things in mind, a weekly interview series comes to mind. I know a lot of weirdos and they all have lots to say. Should prove interesting.
I'd like to profile some of the local Portland area shops and bike related locations, shows etc, that's in the works. What else would make this an interesting place to visit for you intertoob motorcycle refugees? Lemme know, comment here, email me: homagemotoworks-at-gmail-dot-com , carrier pigeon, singing telegram...whatever.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Rambling, wordy and largely useless........
Ok time for another minor update and a couple heads-up.
I'm still trying to get this off the ground but it's slowly taking shape. I still need to deal with this neuter of a computer....hey that should be it's name 'Neuter the 'Computer'. Effing junk ass beat down piece of crap........but I digress....
>Rich: Your rear set plates are 85%, I'm down to adding lightness and cleanup.
Rich builds cool bikes and doesn't fear the oddball.....like a GR650!
>Jack: Your clip-on blocks are still only roughed in but I'll be putting some time on them and the rest this week. Hang in there buddy, I appreciate your patience.
>Jordan: The stem should be free this afternoon and we'll see about getting it crammed into the CBR bottom clamp for you. At that point the front end should be fairly straight forward.
>Von Yinzer: Your nanny dresses you funny.....
>Sean: Your foot pegs are built and they look great. Let me know when you want to come get'm!
>Dave-O: thanks for the 411 amigo, just what I needed to get this job done!
Dave is an old school machinist that had a shop space right behind mine, he was instrumental in my acquisition of my big TREE 2UVRC milling machine....for really cheap. He's happily showed me tricks and ways around problems that generally only come from year and years and YEARS standing in the chip shower. I like this guy!
>Martin: You're still a wus.
The Barbarian Horde:
I'd like to thank Bobdot and Sakeracer for joining the horde here, thanks gents.
Your mission (should you choose to accept it) as new members is to find an excuse to drink too many Jaegerbombs and run naked down the main drag of your town while singing inappropriate songs about someone else's girlfriend.
I'm still trying to get this off the ground but it's slowly taking shape. I still need to deal with this neuter of a computer....hey that should be it's name 'Neuter the 'Computer'. Effing junk ass beat down piece of crap........but I digress....
>Rich: Your rear set plates are 85%, I'm down to adding lightness and cleanup.
Rich builds cool bikes and doesn't fear the oddball.....like a GR650!
>Jack: Your clip-on blocks are still only roughed in but I'll be putting some time on them and the rest this week. Hang in there buddy, I appreciate your patience.
>Jordan: The stem should be free this afternoon and we'll see about getting it crammed into the CBR bottom clamp for you. At that point the front end should be fairly straight forward.
>Von Yinzer: Your nanny dresses you funny.....
>Sean: Your foot pegs are built and they look great. Let me know when you want to come get'm!
>Dave-O: thanks for the 411 amigo, just what I needed to get this job done!
Dave is an old school machinist that had a shop space right behind mine, he was instrumental in my acquisition of my big TREE 2UVRC milling machine....for really cheap. He's happily showed me tricks and ways around problems that generally only come from year and years and YEARS standing in the chip shower. I like this guy!
>Martin: You're still a wus.
The Barbarian Horde:
I'd like to thank Bobdot and Sakeracer for joining the horde here, thanks gents.
Your mission (should you choose to accept it) as new members is to find an excuse to drink too many Jaegerbombs and run naked down the main drag of your town while singing inappropriate songs about someone else's girlfriend.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
This thing about Blogs......
I've been dreading this for some time. I'm not a journalist; meaning someone who keeps a journal. I don't generally write down my thoughts for later perusal....because frankly it creeps me right the hell out.
Why am I doing this at all if I'm not really up for it? Well...that's a simple question with a complicated answer. The shortest possible answer: I guess I need a blog.
You see I recently had a job shaping up to do some custom work on a nice woman's motorcycle and though I've been doing this kind of work for almost 30 years, because I lacked a website or even a lowly blog she ended up going with another shop. Strange reason to make a decision of that nature but then who am I to question what makes a woman tick? So.....here we are...
What are you likely to find here then you ask? Well......you'll see a lot of motorcycles and hotrods in various form, boobies...Oh yes there will be boobies. I'm a big fan you see and well....what kind of man would I be if I didn't share? Music and food are also pretty big in my cluttered little corner of the world, expect my own oddly combative recipes (you'll see later) and some songs that make me less likely to beat up a banker. In the midst of the mass of fluff and filler, you are also likely to see examples of my work, individual custom parts and whole builds. I make no promises as far as the frequency of updates are concerned nor the quality thereof.
I do hope that this turns into something of worth, if someone finds something of value in the onslaught of blather that's likely to fall from the screen then perhaps, just perhaps....this will have served some vague and lightly dirty purpose.
You've been warned..............
Why am I doing this at all if I'm not really up for it? Well...that's a simple question with a complicated answer. The shortest possible answer: I guess I need a blog.
You see I recently had a job shaping up to do some custom work on a nice woman's motorcycle and though I've been doing this kind of work for almost 30 years, because I lacked a website or even a lowly blog she ended up going with another shop. Strange reason to make a decision of that nature but then who am I to question what makes a woman tick? So.....here we are...
What are you likely to find here then you ask? Well......you'll see a lot of motorcycles and hotrods in various form, boobies...Oh yes there will be boobies. I'm a big fan you see and well....what kind of man would I be if I didn't share? Music and food are also pretty big in my cluttered little corner of the world, expect my own oddly combative recipes (you'll see later) and some songs that make me less likely to beat up a banker. In the midst of the mass of fluff and filler, you are also likely to see examples of my work, individual custom parts and whole builds. I make no promises as far as the frequency of updates are concerned nor the quality thereof.
I do hope that this turns into something of worth, if someone finds something of value in the onslaught of blather that's likely to fall from the screen then perhaps, just perhaps....this will have served some vague and lightly dirty purpose.
You've been warned..............
Beer soaked wisdom of the truest kind........
The following was written by my friend Mike.
-Mike 'VonYinzer' Dock 2011
Why is it that we feel the need to do the things we do? Can someone truly explain why it is that we give into these urges to cut, weld, and modify a perfectly functional piece of equipment? Its counter intuitive. It’s downright silly even. The majority of these motorcycles were truly revolutionary and record breaking machines in their day. It’s like taking a saw to your nicest piece of furniture because you just didn’t think it was “right” the way you bought it for no other reason than a feeling you had.
There have been dozens of theories put forth here. Some say it’s because many of us have a certain respect for days gone by, and through our personal machines, we attempt to pay some homage to them. Others believe that it’s simply a way for us to display our particular and specific brands of creativity to the world. A few even may take the path towards custom motorcycle building as a loud and recognizable way to disassociate themselves from the cultural cesspool that gurgles outside their window or on their television. I put forth another thought though.
Could it be possible that those of us who feel this call towards the abnormal, dangerous, and downright un-rational life of greasy jeans, and spent paychecks do it for a much more internal reason? Is it so far-fetched to believe that we as a whole are simple “wired” differently, or even somehow in tune with a force we don’t understand?
I pose this question, not in the simple manor of saying that we mostly like and are attached to ideals outside of the generally accepted “norm”, but that perhaps, we as a whole see the world in its entirety in a very different way. The shockingly different everyday lives we all live, has brought me to this conclusion. We have doctors, engineers, artists, office workers, pilots, secretaries, teachers, farmers, and numerous other professions represented amongst our ranks. There are men and women here that span decades in age, and vast expanses in social standing. The differences that are apparent between us are much greater than the similarities.
That said, we all see beauty in the rough castings of a carburetor body, and feel a spiritual connection to the sound of a finely tuned engine (of any make) resonating off of fresh asphalt. We all have found solace in difficult times through the simple and mostly forgotten by the world skills that our passion requires. To me, it seems as if the narrow thread that binds us together is somehow stronger than the walls that separate us.
My question is still though, why? Where and when was this passion born in our minds? What is the unknown drive that lies beneath our need to toil in this way, and specifically on these machines? Many here have shared an early experience, in which a loved one or neighbor seemingly also had the “bug” and perhaps somehow imprinted it upon them. Others have stated that though they were unaware of this world until recently, once realizing it they instantly felt a pull so strong it couldn’t be ignored.
All these thoughts put forth, I suggest a slightly different theory. Perhaps it is not our souls or minds that need this as much as it is the souls of the machines that draw us near. It’s the ghost of that sixteen year old kid, who worked all summer to buy that used RD250 and rode that bike everyday he could. He shared some of his greatest memories with that machine. He may have met his first girlfriend on it. He may have ridden it to college for his first time away from home. The sound of that purring engine, and the feel of the cool breeze in his face may have been the only respite from his pain as he rode home from the funeral of a friend.
The stories our bikes could tell would certainly be worth hearing, every last one of them. And that my friends may be the point. It’s not us that need to spend these months fine tuning every aspect of our machine. It’s not our story that is being told through new hardware, clean metal, and fresh paint. It’s the machine itself that begs to live and breathe the fresh night air again. Its our motorcycle that makes us feel alive, and sings to the world every time it comes to life. Not the other way around.
We have been chosen to resurrect history by, history itself. The same goes for those who see antique furniture, or a hundred year old house that most pass by without any thought. They cannot forget the details of that broken piece of our past. It imbeds itself in their brain, and refuses to disappear. These people didn’t choose the avenue of their passion, the recipient of the passion chose them.
We have all been given a key to the rebirth of another life, another time, another world. A rehashing of that sixteen year-old's greatest, and possibly worst moments is ours to put forth. It wont look the same, or feel anywhere near similar to us, but you can be guaranteed that somewhere in the world a man who once rode a ratty used Yamaha will feel something every time you start that bike. At the moment you twist that throttle and feel the pressures of the world slip quietly away, he will also feel something. Though he may not know what that feeling is, you do. It’s the thread that bonds us all, gently tugging at the sixteen year old soul inside him.
Do not disappoint that boy my friends. Someday, when you have moved on to another bike, or a different passion, you too will feel a random twinge. And when you do, it will brighten a dark day perhaps, or simply make the corner of your mouth turn upwards for a brief second. At that moment you will know that you have been graced with a moment that is bound to all others before. A moment that your machine gave you.
There have been dozens of theories put forth here. Some say it’s because many of us have a certain respect for days gone by, and through our personal machines, we attempt to pay some homage to them. Others believe that it’s simply a way for us to display our particular and specific brands of creativity to the world. A few even may take the path towards custom motorcycle building as a loud and recognizable way to disassociate themselves from the cultural cesspool that gurgles outside their window or on their television. I put forth another thought though.
Could it be possible that those of us who feel this call towards the abnormal, dangerous, and downright un-rational life of greasy jeans, and spent paychecks do it for a much more internal reason? Is it so far-fetched to believe that we as a whole are simple “wired” differently, or even somehow in tune with a force we don’t understand?
I pose this question, not in the simple manor of saying that we mostly like and are attached to ideals outside of the generally accepted “norm”, but that perhaps, we as a whole see the world in its entirety in a very different way. The shockingly different everyday lives we all live, has brought me to this conclusion. We have doctors, engineers, artists, office workers, pilots, secretaries, teachers, farmers, and numerous other professions represented amongst our ranks. There are men and women here that span decades in age, and vast expanses in social standing. The differences that are apparent between us are much greater than the similarities.
That said, we all see beauty in the rough castings of a carburetor body, and feel a spiritual connection to the sound of a finely tuned engine (of any make) resonating off of fresh asphalt. We all have found solace in difficult times through the simple and mostly forgotten by the world skills that our passion requires. To me, it seems as if the narrow thread that binds us together is somehow stronger than the walls that separate us.
My question is still though, why? Where and when was this passion born in our minds? What is the unknown drive that lies beneath our need to toil in this way, and specifically on these machines? Many here have shared an early experience, in which a loved one or neighbor seemingly also had the “bug” and perhaps somehow imprinted it upon them. Others have stated that though they were unaware of this world until recently, once realizing it they instantly felt a pull so strong it couldn’t be ignored.
All these thoughts put forth, I suggest a slightly different theory. Perhaps it is not our souls or minds that need this as much as it is the souls of the machines that draw us near. It’s the ghost of that sixteen year old kid, who worked all summer to buy that used RD250 and rode that bike everyday he could. He shared some of his greatest memories with that machine. He may have met his first girlfriend on it. He may have ridden it to college for his first time away from home. The sound of that purring engine, and the feel of the cool breeze in his face may have been the only respite from his pain as he rode home from the funeral of a friend.
The stories our bikes could tell would certainly be worth hearing, every last one of them. And that my friends may be the point. It’s not us that need to spend these months fine tuning every aspect of our machine. It’s not our story that is being told through new hardware, clean metal, and fresh paint. It’s the machine itself that begs to live and breathe the fresh night air again. Its our motorcycle that makes us feel alive, and sings to the world every time it comes to life. Not the other way around.
We have been chosen to resurrect history by, history itself. The same goes for those who see antique furniture, or a hundred year old house that most pass by without any thought. They cannot forget the details of that broken piece of our past. It imbeds itself in their brain, and refuses to disappear. These people didn’t choose the avenue of their passion, the recipient of the passion chose them.
We have all been given a key to the rebirth of another life, another time, another world. A rehashing of that sixteen year-old's greatest, and possibly worst moments is ours to put forth. It wont look the same, or feel anywhere near similar to us, but you can be guaranteed that somewhere in the world a man who once rode a ratty used Yamaha will feel something every time you start that bike. At the moment you twist that throttle and feel the pressures of the world slip quietly away, he will also feel something. Though he may not know what that feeling is, you do. It’s the thread that bonds us all, gently tugging at the sixteen year old soul inside him.
Do not disappoint that boy my friends. Someday, when you have moved on to another bike, or a different passion, you too will feel a random twinge. And when you do, it will brighten a dark day perhaps, or simply make the corner of your mouth turn upwards for a brief second. At that moment you will know that you have been graced with a moment that is bound to all others before. A moment that your machine gave you.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Big Pointy Teeth!!!!
wow.....another blog
you feel excitement shivering through your nether regions don't you?
admit it.....
See? See!!??!? There it is again, you can't hide it.
you feel excitement shivering through your nether regions don't you?
admit it.....
See? See!!??!? There it is again, you can't hide it.
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