The ExhaustNotes Blog

Buell Fever 11: Applied Technology Shock Absorber Service

By Joe Gresh

As you may recall from an earlier Buell episode, the Buell’s underslung rear shock absorber lost most of its fluid and the back half of the Buell became more like a pogo stick. I’m not too picky about suspension action. I don’t fine tune a motorcycle suspension. Maybe crank up the preload or turn a compression knob if I’m bored but I can hardly tell the difference. If the bike goes over bumps without see-sawing and doesn’t bottom out too frequently I’m good to go. The Buell was hobby-horsing like an old Chevy station wagon toting a load of sweaty teenagers across some railroad tracks. The bouncy rear end of the Buell was just too much of a distraction even for a rider with my unrefined skills.

The rear shock on Buell tubers is quite a story in itself. I’ve researched on the internet (like I do for all medical questions) and I’m not 100% sure I’ve got the story straight but here goes: the first shock mid-90’s Tubers came with was a White Power made unit that was recalled at some point. Apparently the shock eye could break, the rear suspension would collapse and the engine/muffler/shock would hit the ground. As you can imagine, if this happened while riding along at 80MPH things could get dicey.

The second recall Showa shock is the one my Tuber came with and checking with Harley (they still have records), mine was replaced under the recall. In fact my Tuber had several unrelated recalls done, like 23-odd recalls. Early Buells had a few teething issues. The previous owner kept up on that stuff and my Buell had all the recalls done except a warning sticker. The two shocks look completely different, White Power being open spring and the Showa with a non-decorative, chrome steel cover that also serves to compress the spring in use.

A third recall shock is kind of shrouded in mystery. Again, it’s totally different in appearance and quite a bit shorter. I noticed the shock eye area is much more substantial than my Showa. I think this third shock went on later model Tubers, and the steel mount on the front of the engine is different. But I could be wrong.

Of course none of this matters to the problem at hand: a leaking shock. Even as a recall the Showa is probably 25 years old, and sitting right next to the muffler can’t help its lifespan.

I had a few directions to go with the shock. I could buy a used shock for around $350. I could buy a new, aftermarket shock for around $1000 or I could rebuild the existing shock. If you can find one, a new old stock Showa would set me back $700-$800 and be 25 years old. Sitting in the box the seal might be bad.

My thoughts were a used shock could start leaking as soon as I hit the first bump. A new aftermarket shock is appealing but no way am I buying a $1000 shock absorber for a $3000 motorcycle. And I couldn’t find a NOS Showa. That left rebuilding the existing shock.

Back to the internet and I couldn’t find any information on rebuilding the Showa shock. Like zero. I decided to try and rebuild the shock myself. There are a few problems with that approach. The first is the lack of information. How does the shock come apart? How much oil goes in? Does the remote reservoir need to be recharged? Where do I get seals? I found nothing. I went on Buell pages and all the hive mind could come up with was: send it out to be rebuilt or buy a new one.

A couple lengths of all-thread and some wood make a serviceable Buell spring compressor.

The Universe was trying to tell me something but who listens to that old bag?

To get the Showa apart you’ll need a spring compressor. With the spring under a shroud the normal compressor that grabs the coils won’t work.

Finding no information on a Buell spring compressor I knocked one up out of 2x4s and all-thread. The compressor only has to squeeze the spring 1/2-inch or so to allow removal of a large internal ring. This ring holds most of the spring followed by a smaller spring on the shock body.

Once the spring is out of the way you’ll need to remove the shock eye. The eye is slathered in thread locker so it’s a battle to remove. After the eye is out of the way there are a couple more threaded bits to remove.

Once all the junk is out of the way I couldn’t figure out this bump stop. Turns out it’s pressed in.

Now that the shock shaft is clear of obstacles the little bumper cup is a light press fit and a few boos with a sharp screwdriver will get it loose.

The end of the road. I saw no good outcome trying to get the internal snap ring removed. In retrospect I should have tried harder. I think pushing the seal into the shock body would have given me access to the ring.

And that’s as far as I got. Holding the seal in the shock body is another internal ring that snaps outward into the body. I couldn’t figure out how to grasp that ring. Maybe you push the seal down further into the shock body to access? Once I got it apart how much oil goes back in? How do I charge the nitrogen canister?

I was pretty over the Buell shock at this point so I sent the remains of it to Applied Technology in Colorado. This was an expensive decision. $500-plus dollars later and several progressively more desperate e-mails and phone calls I had my rebuilt shock in hand. Apparently the shock was fixed the first week I sent it in it became misplaced. The thing sat there a few weeks before I convinced someone to go look for it.

Rebuilt shock going back together. Pro tip: the rebuild price is the same if you send in an unmolested shock.

How do you replace the nitrogen? You replace the reservoir end cap with a new one, Schrader valve built in. Don’t ask me how Showa did it the first time as the original set up had no valve.

In Applied Technology’s defense the price would have been the same if I sent the entire shock back. I didn’t need to dismantle the thing.

All water under the bridge. The rebuilt shock works like you would expect: no pogo, less bottoming out (I need to crank up the compression damping) and no oil leaking out of the chrome surround.

Still, my curiosity is not sated. Deep down, I think I should have tried harder to rebuild the shock. Maybe find a generic seal, figure the capacity using the volume of the shock and the reservoir, and plain old air has plenty of nitrogen (would it matter that much?).

I’m such a quitter. Next time the Buell shock pukes its guts I think I’m going all-in. The not knowing and the $500 hole in my wallet must be avenged!

An Old Model Single Six Comparo

By Joe Berk

A few weeks ago, I posted a blog about a new-to-me Old Model Ruger Single Six with a 9 1/2-inch barrel, a firearm I recently acquired. It’s a beautiful handgun. In that blog, I mentioned that I planned to test the 9 1/2-inch Single Six and compare it to my Dad’s first-year-of-production 5 1/2-inch Single Six. I recently did so, capturing the velocities from each handgun and assessing the accuracy of each.

The five different .22 ammunition types used in this testing (shown from left to right): Aquila’s 40-grain Target Competition load, Federal’s 40-grain Champion load, Remington’s 40-grain Target load, Federal’s 40-grain Range Pack load, and Federal’s 36-grain Value Pack load.

A few years ago, a federal court overturned California’s unconstitutional requirement that we could only buy ammunition from an FFL dealer, with the FFL running a criminal background check for each purchase (for which we as consumers have to pay). The reprieve only lasted a week or two before the tyrants in Sacramento appealed the federal court decision, but during that week, I ordered a bunch of .22 ammo. The California appeal is still working its way through the courts. In the meantime, we can only buy from an FFL or an approved vendor. Make no mistake: The real criminals are the California legislators and our governor.

All my testing was done firing from the sitting position with two hands (resting my hands on the bench), shooting at targets 25 yards away. Here’s a summary of each of the .22 ammunition types fired in this test series:

A summary of the five different ammunition types used in this test program.

The manufacturers did not specify whether their velocities were for a handgun or for a rifle, so it’s not too surprising that my testing showed lower average velocities. I’m assuming the manufacturers’ figures are intended to show velocities from a rifle. There’s more velocity information for each of the ammo types in both handguns below.

A caveat or two up front: I only fired six rounds of each of the five different ammo types, and I only shot one 6-shot group from each of the two Single Six Rugers. This was to be a “quick look” accuracy assessment; ordinarily, to assess accuracy I would fire several groups for each load, but I didn’t do that for this test. Also, I include the velocity standard deviation for each 6-shot string, so take those results with a very large grain of sand. From a statistics perspective, 25 or more data points are normally used to get a population’s standard deviation. Again, this test series was intended to provide a quick look.

My targets at 25 yards. The targets in the background are out at 100 yards. I did my shooting at the West End Gun Club.

After setting up my targets, I fired five 6-shot groups with the 9 1/2-inch Single Six at the targets on the left first, and then I fired five 6-shot groups from the 5 1/2-inch Single Six. The targets are shown below.

9 1/2-inch Single Six targets (left), and 5 1/2-inch Single Six targets (right). The targets run from left to right, and then top to bottom, with each of the five different .22 loads fired in the order listed above. Each top left target was fired with Aquila ammo, each top right target was fired with Federal Champion ammo, the second row left target was fired with Remington Target ammo, the second row right target was fired with Federal Range Pack ammo, and the bottom target was fired with Federal Value Pack ammo.

I didn’t measure group sizes because (as mentioned above) this was intended to be a quick look. That notwithstanding, a few things are apparent:

- The 9 1/2 inch Single Six shoots a little bit to the right with all loads (I held at 6:00 on all targets).
- The 5 1/2 inch Single Six shoots a little bit high with all loads.
- The groups shot with the Federal Range Pack ammo (which was cheap stuff, not intended to be target-grade ammo) appear to be the best. That could change with more groups fired, but in both handguns, this ammo grouped well. It’s good ammo.

Both the Single Six Rugers featured in this article have fixed sights, so the point of impact bias described above cannot be addressed with a simple screwdriver sight adjustment. That’s okay by me. I’m not going to bother drifting the rear sight in its dovetail base on the 9 1/2-inch revolver, nor am I going to file the rear sight on the 5 1/2 inch Ruger. I know where to hold on the target for each revolver now, and that’s what I’ll do.

Here’s the chrono data for the different loads, first for the 5 1/2-inch Single Six, and then for the 9 1/2-inch Single Six.

As expected, the 9 1/2-inch Single Six had higher velocities than the 5 1/2-inch barrel Single Six for every ammo type I tested. The table below shows the average velocity increase for the 9 1/2-inch Single Six (over the 5 1/2 -inch Single Six) for each load.

Velocity Increase (9 1/2-inch Single Six compared to 5 1/2-inch Single Six).

Both Rugers are very high quality handguns. The old saying (“they don’t make them like they used to”) certainly applies here. The 5 1/2-Single Six featured here was manufactured in 1954 (the first full year of production); the 9 1/2-inch Single Six was manufactured in 1968. Throughout this test series, there were no failures to fire. The 9 1/2-inch Single Six ejector rod actuation felt a bit gritty at first, but after a good cleaning (I bought this gun used), it is as buttery smooth as the ejector on the 5 1/2-inch Ruger. The 5 1/2-inch gun’s oil-finished grips feel much better than do the 9 1/2-inch gun’s stock Ruger grips. The fact that the shorter-barreled Ruger’s grips were custom made by my Dad influenced my opinion, but they actually do. feel better. They are fuller and they fit me well.

Ruger still manufactures the Single Six in their New Model configuration, along with a much cheaper Wrangler .22 handgun. I don’t feel a need to own either; I’m more than happy with my Old Model Single Six Rugers.

For more info on the 9 1/2-inch Ruger, my previous blog is here.

The blog on the 1954 Ruger (the 5 1/2-inch revolver) is here.

An index showing all our Tales of the Gun features is here.

1917 Smith and Wesson Repop

By Joe Berk

The revolver du jour is a Smith and Wesson Model 22, which is one of a limited run Smith sent to Turnbull for their signature color case hardening. It is a repop of the famed World War I Model of 1917 Smith and Wesson, a revolver we’ve written about in these pages before. This revolver is beautiful, with Altamont grips, high polish bluing, and mesmerizing color case hardening.

I have a big bottle of Red Dot powder and I’ve been using it for reloading 9mm ammo. I wanted to try it in .45 ACP. I thought I would try it in my 1911A1 .45 Auto until I realized I’m not supposed to bend at the waist for another couple of weeks (a consequence of my back surgery), and that meant I couldn’t pick up my brass. So I decided to shoot it in one of my .45 ACP revolvers (so I wouldn’t have to chase my brass).

.45 ACP cartridges in the 1917. The color case hardening sure does pop!

When you shoot .45 ACP ammo in a 1917 revolver, you have to use a clip to provide the right headspace, and to allow the ejector rod to eject the cartridges. Putting each cartridge into the clips is kind of a pain in the you-know-what, but it’s an elegant and simple solution to the problem the Army faced in both World Wars when there weren’t enough 1911A1s to go around. After firing, you also need to extract the empty brass cases from the clip. I used a Brownell’s tool for both inserting the ammo into the clip and for removing the empty cases after shooting.

The Brownell’s tool for inserting and removing .45 ACP cartridges from the star clip.

After my first few shots, I realized again that my 1917 shoots low (I knew this previously but had forgotten it). On my first target, I held at 6:00 on the orange bullseye, and at 10 yards my shots were 3 inches low. Not a problem; I simply held at 12:00 on the bullseye, and I shot the multi-round group you see below. I shot that group standing up. I’ve done better in the past, but this wasn’t too bad for an old guy.

Results with the Red Dot load. I held at the top of the orange bullseye. The revolver as configured from the factory shoots 3 inches low.

The group was not great, but it was not terrible, either. I went home and started wondering…could I get a replacement front sight that wasn’t quite as tall?

A shark’s fin of a front sight. Smith dropped the ball on this design.

I searched the Internet, and what I found is that on these guns the front sight being too tall (which causes the gun to shoot low) is a known problem. I had called Smith and Wesson’s customer support a few years ago to discuss this, but they told me the gun was too old for them to do anything (this particular revolver was manufactured in June of 2007). In my recent Internet sleuthing, I found that Smith had owned up to the problem and were replacing the front sights at no charge, but that was nearly 20 years ago. When I called a few days ago, the nice lady at Smith and told me they no longer stock the part (I should have been more persistent in the first call to Smith and Wesson). She also told me that because I live in California, even if they had the part, they could only ship it to an FFL. Our California legislature and our Brylcreem governor had struck again.

I loaded another batch of ammo identical to the recipe described above, except this time I used 4.2 grains of Bullseye propellant (the first load had 4.5 grains of Red Dot). I had the same issue with the gun shooting too low, but wowee, did the groups ever tighten up. The photo below shows two groups. On the head shots, I held at the top of the target’s head; on the bullseye shots, I held at the top of the bullseye. Both are six-shot groups, and both were with me resting my elbows on the bench. Once again, I realized why I love reloading so much. And Bullseye powder, too. There’s a reason they call it Bullseye.

Here’s the chronograph data for the above two loads:

One thing about the Bullseye and Red Dot loads in a revolver: They sure get your hands dirty.

Post Bullseye reloads dirty hands. Red Dot is even worse.

I didn’t do any load development for the two recipes above. I already had the Bullseye ammo loaded and it had proved to be very accurate in the 1911A1. There’s not a ton of published data for Red Dot, so when I found a source with this data, I just picked a load (4.5 grains) and went with it. This was intended to be a quick look and not an exhaustive assessment, and it was. For the two loads I used, and as you can see from the table above, the Bullseye load has a much lower standard deviation than does the Red Dot load. The Red Dot load’s average velocity, though, is closer to factory ball ammo. I probably could have increased the Bullseye load to bring it up to factory levels, but it is so accurate I’m going to leave it alone.

As a follow up check on this front sight business, the next day I grabbed some .45 ammo I had loaded a couple of years ago with AutoRim brass and Jim Gardner’s excellent 230-grain powder coated bullets. I had loaded that ammo with 5.6 grains of Unique, which has been my accuracy load for the .45 ACP in a 1911 for literally decades.

.45 AutoRim ammo with 230-grain Jim Gardner powder coated bullets. The AutoRim ammo is much easier to shoot in a 1917 or .45 ACP revolver, as it does not require the use of clips. Alas, the Gardner bullets are no longer available.

I knew the velocity would be a little higher than what I was seeing with the Bullseye load described above, and I expected the load to print a little higher on the target. I was right on both counts.

Chrono data for the Unique AutoRim load.

My first cylinder of AutoRim ammo loaded with 230-grain bullets and 5.6 grains of Unique. I held at 6:00 on the orange bullseye.

I liked what I saw on the target above. The 1917 was still shooting a bit low, but not by as much as it had with the Bullseye load. I proceeded to put the rest of the 5.6-grain Unique load into the orange bullseye, this time with my aimpoint being the center of the bullseye. Just for good measure, and to make sure this zombie wouldn’t be getting up again, I put my last three rounds into its head.

For other than the shots that went low, I held in the center of the orange bullseye. This is close enough for government work. These shots were all fired off hand. The 1917 is a lot of fun to shoot.

Unfortunately, I think Jim Gardner is out of business. I liked his bullets because of the extra thick powder coating and because they shot so well. These were the last of the 230-grain Gardner bullets I had in my stash, so I will start hunting around for a new source.

So there you have it. I may poke around a bit and do something with the front sight, or I may leave it as is and simply remember to hold high on the target. I could go a little hotter with the Unique/230-grain-bullet load (the online Alliant guide shows I could do so), and that would probably bring the point of impact to the point of aim. I like the way the 5.6 grain load handles, though, and as I said above, it hits close enough for government work. I want to shoot the 1917 with it at 25 yards and see where it groups (above or below point of aim, and by how much). I may try a few more loads in the 1917; these will be topics for future blogs.

How about an original 1917 Colt? That story is here.

Dialing in a Python Hog Load

By Joe Berk

In two previous blogs, I wrote about adding the Wilson Combat rear sight (which caused the Python to shoot too high) and the Harrison Design front sight (which brought the Python back on target). This blog discusses two heavy Python loads, their ballistics, and the Python’s accuracy at 25 yards.

The two loads evaluated in this comparison. The one on the left is loaded with the Missouri Bullet Company’s 180 truncated roundnose (a cast bullet); the one on the right is loaded with Hornady’s 180-grain jacketed hollow point.

The two loads are:

- - Hornady’s 180-grain jacketed XTP bullet with 13.6 grains of Winchester 296 propellant and a Winchester small pistol magnum primer, and
  - Missouri Bullet Company’s 180-grain hard cast, truncated roundnose bullet with 14.0 grains of IMR 4227 propellant and a Winchester small pistol magnum primer.

Both are max loads.

I first tried the Hornady bullet load at 25 yards, shooting from a bench, with a two-hand hold. My point of aim was at 6:00. I fired two groups of 20 shots each. The groups were a bit low, and very slightly to the left.

A 25-yard, 20-shot group with the 180-grain jacketed hollow point Hornady bullet and 13.6 grains of Winchester’s 296 powder.

I next tried the Missouri cast bullet load at 25 yards, firing 20 rounds under the same conditions. Surprisingly, the group size and the group center were similar to the Hornady load, even though the velocity was higher and I was using different bullets and propellants.

A 25-yard group with Missouri’s 180-grain cast bullet and IMR 4227 propellant. The two loads are of comparable accuracy.

I felt the cast bullet load’s recoil was slightly lower than the jacketed bullet load, but the difference was miniscule. Both loads have significant recoil. The ballistics of both cartridges (fired from the Python) are summarized below:

Chronograph data for the two loads tested. The IMR 4227 load has a much smaller standard deviation.

The above surprised me a bit. I always thought that Winchester’s 296 would provide the highest velocities and the smallest standard deviations. For me, an amateur ballistician, the Garmin chronograph was a good purchase. My reloading is frequently guided by the additional information it provides. I knew IMR 4227 was a good powder for magnum handgun cartridges; I just didn’t know how good. It’s very good.

After firing the first 20-round group with the Missouri Bullet Company load, I moved on to the next target. I adjusted the rear sight for elevation and windage, realizing while doing so that I had no idea how much each click of elevation and windage adjustment represented on the target, so I made a guess. I came up 6 clicks in elevation, and I moved the rear sight 6 clicks to the right.

I was disappointed that the three 20-shot groups I had shot thus far were larger than I thought they should be, so I tried harder. I poured everything I had into the next 5 shots on the second Missouri Bullet Company target, concentrating intensely, focusing on the front sight. The front sight. The front sight only. I willed myself to not think about anything except the front sight while slowly and gently increasing pressure on the trigger. The target disappeared as into fuzzy black blur. The big Python barked and bucked. I did it again four more times and then got up to check the target in my spotting scope.

Damn, that looked good! All 5 shots were in the 10-ring. This formed a dilemma. That was a nice target. Should I stop now and save the target for a photo, or should I fire the next 5-shot group, potentially ruining the target’s bragging rights?

A deep breath, let halfway out, with intense concentration on the front sight. This is a sweet combination: The Colt Python, 14.0 grains of IMR 4227, and the 180-grain Missouri cast bullet.

I went for Door No. 2, and sent 5 more 180-grain cast bullets downrange, concentrating so hard the rest of the world vanished. I checked the spotting scope. All 5 shots went into one ragged hole. This is good stuff; both the above loads are acceptably accurate and they are suitable for taking hogs. I think I’m going to go with the cast bullet load when I next hunt pigs in Arizona, which will occur later this year. When I do so, you’ll read about it here on the ExNotes blog.

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2026 Laguna Seca Moto America 3

By Joe Gresh

Sunday morning, the last morning of three at Laguna Seca, was dry. No condensation dripping inside the tent as the moisture stayed in the dense cloud cover. Conditions are perfect here at the Mission Foods, Weathertech, Laguna Seca, Louie’s Fish Fry, Little Billy’s Burpee Seed franchise, in the mall next to the JC Penney racetrack. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but Laguna Seca has nice bathrooms. The showers are hot, real flush toilets, and plenty of stalls. And you can fill out most of a story just listing the sponsors and amenities.

Plenty of potato in the parking area. These can’t all be here for the Baggers.

I didn’t feel like eating another Turkey sammie, so I burbled down to the paddock where the Bear and Chisel food stand is located. In the past this place was pretty good. Today it was tolerable. The bacon in my bacon burrito was sort of raw. The burrito shrank 33%. There was no salsa. The coffee was good. I guess I can’t complain for only $21.

You always see a guy carrying a wheel or handlebars at the races. Dunlop had at least 5 tire changing machines under a long row of tents. VP race gas had a big semi-trailer full of gas. They saw a steady flow (ha) of customers bringing 5-gallon to 50-gallon containers. Man, it would be a mess if that semi crashed.

Practice started at 9.30 a.m. today. I started out near the booze tent. These are stands that usually stay pretty empty. Practice was uneventful, but I still made an event out of it. We had party balloons, a cash bar and event T-shirts.

I got to meet Miami Herald motorcycle legend James Hegsteth at the track. Later we slept together. I mean at the same camp spot. He had his own tent.

Speaking of T-shirts I was going to buy a Moto America T-shirt but the things were $50! I told the chick selling the shirts it was too much. She said I could save some money as they had a special deal going on: if I spent $100 I could get two T-shirts. It’s a racket, like Girl Scout cookies. Man, I’m on Socialist Security! I can’t blow $50 on a damn T-shirt! Years ago, I rode my VT500 from San Diego to Laguna Seca to watch a Moto GP. When I found out the entry ticket was $45, I turned around and rode back to San Diego. That shows you how committed I am at the $50 level.

And another thing: the big glass building where you can watch Turn 3 wanted $45 just to enter. You still had to pay for any drinks. WTF Moto America? What is it with the $50 thing? Ah, but the races were good. I think first place in the Baggers class paid $50.

Moto-idol John Burns kept my brain from turning to mush. He works for the AMA magazine now so go join to read his stuff.

I met my childhood hero Sir John Burns at the track. We hung out a bit and were thrown out of the VIP lounge above the front straight. I can see them not letting me in, but Burns is moto royalty. Big mistake. You don’t want Burns pissed off at you.

The racers raced and the show ended around 4:30. That was a good time to call it. Around 5:30 cops started patrolling the camp sites. My emotions were mixed: on the one hand I liked that the cops were out there protecting us, on the other I knew if I got one on a bad day, I might get shot.

But I digress…the racing (remember racing?) was pretty good all weekend. JD Beach, one of my favorite riders since Tim Hawks, told me to keep an eye on him and he won both the Superbike races.

Baggers at full lean. Don’t hate on Baggers until you’ve wobbled a mile in their shoes.

The Baggers put on a good show with lots of wiggling and sliding. These bike have to be ridden, not programmed. I’ll put up with the overpriced stuff; nobody twisted my arm to buy a T-shirt. Moto America’s event at Laguna Seca was a success in my book, a book not known for successes.

Now I’m bedded down one last time. The weather is spectacular. It’s cool, almost no breeze, just wonderful. Tomorrow I’ll break camp and start the long journey back to God’s country: New Mexico.

2026 Laguna Seca 2

By Joe Gresh

Saturday morning I wet the bed. It wasn’t me, I’m not that old… yet, it was the incredible humidity. The fly-roof of my tent got so heavy with dew that it sagged down onto the mesh part which sealed off the air gap that helps keep the tent dry.

Water dripped down from the ceiling in an irregular pattern. Puddles of water were everywhere but not completely, there were dry spots. My phone was wet, my jacket soaked, and this was with no rain. Coming from New Mexico my nose can hardly believe that air can hold so much moisture.

Would it have killed them to add a few extra conduit clamps? They’re like 75 cents each.

It was too cold outside so I made coffee inside the tent and waited for it to warm up. I use Bustelo instant. It’s not great coffee but it has caffeine and is easy to make. Hesketh slept poorly on a deflated air mattress, still he declined my offer of Bustelo saying he’s a coffee snob. He went off to do corner work at the track near the front straight. I guess corner workers get a breakfast in the morning.

I think the driver’s side rear tire on the Toyota is going flat. Maybe it’s the angle at which I’m parked. It won’t surprise me; I’m always getting flat tires. I’m the god of low pressure.

The corkscrew, the legendary corner (s) at Laguna Seca. If you look around you may see an ExhaustNotes sticker somewhere.

I’ve got bigger problems. The 3-day, race-weekend wristband Laguna Seca issues is one I haven’t seen before. Instead of snapping on or using adhesive, the band has a sliding collar. I was checking it out, wondering how it was supposed to stay tight when I test slid the collar. It moved east too easily. Now the band was too small to go over my wrist. It’s an ingenious thing. The collar has one-way teeth inside preventing it from coming loose. It’s a real step up in the wristband world. I managed to get a few inches of relief by stabbing inside the collar with a knife blade. I can see these working well as handcuffs or for executions.

A salty fan wears his Bagger opinion on his shirt.

Some track observations:

- A muffled KTM sounds like a blown speaker
- The Arch motorcycle looked ok. Much improved over the early models. They’re cheap; get two.
- Kenny Robert’s had a KR logoed racing team at Laguna Seca. As you can imagine the bikes ran well.
- On the last practice lap many riders stopped in front of the grandstands (facing the tire bridge) and practiced starts. The drill is peg the bike into the rev limiter and feed out the clutch just enough to remove the sputter.
- When the video camera operator pivots after a bike makes the turn, it must be a big shot rider. Otherwise, the camera never moves.
- The fast 600s turn laps around 1.28.
- The fast Baggers turn laps around 1.28
- The fast Super Hooligan bikes turn laps around 1.28. I’m not a conspiracy nut, but this looks suspect.

Real Baggers on parade. You can toss the proprietor a few bucks and ride the track. Of course, with all those Harleys you’ll need some kitty litter.

We have one more day of racing. I must stay strong.

2026 Laguna Seca Moto America Race

By Joe Gresh

Andy Rooney, the proto-crank from 60 Minutes, back when 60 minutes was an hour, not a lap dog, said something important. I’m sure I’m messing it up, but he said you never know when your last time doing a thing will be done. His example was sledding in the winter. It was a rite, a ritual, a flim-flammy go-round: he did it every year without fail. Each year he’d sled down the hill but one year he was too tired or busy. Maybe he got mature. He didn’t go up the hill that year. And then he didn’t do it again. And again. He fell out of the habit, see? After a while he couldn’t remember why he went sledding at all.

You don’t often see the Very Large Array grouped up tight like this. Must be shooting wide angle stuff.

I went to the motorcycle races at Laguna Seca because if I don’t, one day I won’t remember why I went to motorcycle races. And there are good reasons to go even if it’s a pain in the butt. This year I went for Moto America races but any sort of motorcycle racing will do.

It was 116 degrees when I pulled into Needles, California on the first night. The heat didn’t let up; it was still over 100 into the wee hours. I know this because I check on the bike every few hours, this goes on through the night. It’s my issue, it’s not like I suspect the good citizens of Needles or something. It’s not like Barstow.

The next evening I made Laguna Seca, it was kind of cold. Two long days on the road, a stiff sea breeze sliced through the Laguna Seca campgrounds and I almost put on long pants. After my initial set up, I laid down inside the tent and got sleeping-bag warm. It was nice. I have a really nice tent set up now. Plenty of room, a cot, a nightstand, ice chest full of food and drinks, even a battery to charge my phone.

Cool, damp weather pushed inland, making camp kind of nippy.

Photons from Salinas, 10 miles away blast through the thin membrane of my tent, glamorous as it is. It’s 11:40 p.m. and the wind has eased. This is John Steinbeck’s old stomping grounds. Not my tent exactly but the general area. Most likely Steinbeck was also hit by photons from Salinas at some point in his life. Maybe not the same photons but Quantum Entanglement says it might have been one just like it, or maybe the mirror image, a reverse spin. Mine look like they are spinning clockwise so Steinbeck’s were probably going counterclockwise.

Lights from Salinas, 10 miles away, frame the porta-potties.

I have to take a leak.

A glowing doughnut of far-away lights surrounds me on the east and southwest. Houses and businesses, overhead a clear, cloudless sky full of stars. All these damn photons. My tent is so roomy I actually have enough space to reel without bumping into anything.

My internet buddy Hesketh stopped by earlier and tossed his tent on the ground. He’s in there napping now, blocking stray photons that might have gotten to me. I hear generators running. It sounds like the noise is coming from the paddock direction. Faintly, it’s not annoying because I’m deaf so you know other people can hear the generator.

Friday is set up camp and the riders are testing. When I first got here, the Baggers were stuttering on the rev limiter going up the hill to the corkscrew. It sounds like they hit the limiter at pretty low RPM’s. Maybe 7000? Then the modern bikes were out. I was tossing gear into my luxury, tent-majal as they went past at some crazy engine speed. A piercing screech that was sort of annoying after the flat roar of the Baggers. At first, I thought the Baggers racing was a gimmick. It still is a gimmick, but I give it my blessing now. I’m sure Moto America was worried about how I would receive the series.

The main thing is I made it to the top of the hill one more time. I’ve seen it all, but I haven’t seen all of it, my brothers.

Back In The Alps

By: Bobbie Surber

Mountains were one of my earliest loves. I grew up with Mount Rainier and the jagged peaks of the Cascades. Later came the Rockies and the Sierra Nevada. The pull only grew stronger over the years, eventually leading me back to the Alps.

In mid-May 2026, Tom and I set out on a five-week trip through four countries, with a week of sailing folded into the middle of it. I had been to Bled, Slovenia, by motorcycle once before, but the weather had shut me out of the Julian Alps that time, so the high country stayed a rumor I never got to see.

The plan was simple: a few days in Bled, then over Vršič Pass, the highest mountain pass in Slovenia, with fifty hairpin turns winding through the Alps.

When the road finally lifted us into the high country, something in my chest loosened, a feeling I’d carried since childhood. I had come a long way to stand among peaks that felt like old friends.

Around every corner was another reason to stop. Jagged limestone peaks towered above us, glaciers still hanging on in the higher elevations. Wildflowers were beginning to blanket the meadows. More than once, we found ourselves standing quietly, simply taking it all in.

Some of those turns were tight enough to hold their own against the ones on my motorcycle trip through Romania. We took our time, using every pullout we could find, and stopped for a short hike where gray limestone peaks rose against a flat blue sky, snow still wedged in the high gullies even in late May. Lunch was a bowl of Slovenian stew at an alpine hut, thick with sausage and beans, and a lager that made me wish I had ordered another. The road was full of motorcycles, and I felt that familiar itch the whole way up, already knowing I would come back for it on two wheels.

From the pass, we drove another 40 miles following the Soča as it cut through the valley. The water wasn’t turquoise so much as lit from within, as if light were coming up through the riverbed itself. No photograph or memory prepares you for it. Its glacial flour suspended in meltwater, but knowing that doesn’t make it feel any more real.

We ended the day at Kozjak Waterfall, just outside Kobarid, where we would spend the night. After a rushed check-in at our lodging, we made our way through the village, crossed the bridge over the Soča River, and followed a narrow gorge to the falls. Tom and I arrived at dusk, long after the tourist buses had left. The waterfall drops in a narrow white stream into a deep stone bowl carved into the rock. Having the place to ourselves made it even more special. As the shadows filled the gorge, the turquoise water deepened to green, then to the richest blue as daylight slipped away. In the quiet, surrounded by rock walls, it felt a little like stepping into another world.

I’ve spent a lot of years seeking out mountains, whether by foot or from the seat of a motorcycle. Standing there beside the falls, I wasn’t thinking about the trip that never happened. I was thinking about the next one. I’ll be back in Slovenia next time, on two wheels.

ExNotes Book Review: Trash!

By Joe Berk

When I was a kid, we didn’t have garbage collection. Like everyone else in our corner of rural New Jersey, we had an open-top 55-gallon drum in our backyard into which we put the garbage, and once a week, Dad would light it up. Bear in mind, this was just 40 miles outside of Manhattan. Things were different in the 1950s. Sometime in the 1960s, though, New Jersey outlawed burning your own trash and we started having to pay for garbage collection. I’m sure Tony Soprano’s forebears figured into that transition somehow, but it was what it was.

Fast forward another 50+ years, and I was lucky enough to be blessed with my first grandson. It is fun watching him grow and observing the phases kids today pass through. One of the most interesting ones has been his fascination with garbage trucks and the guys who man them. For that reason, when I read a brief review in The Wall Street Journal on Trash!, I had to order a copy. It’s an easy but fascinating read, and I read it in a day. The author, Simon Paré-Poupart, writes quoteworthy paragraphs throughout. The most poignant one, which exactly describes the phase my grandson passed through, hit me on Page 36:

When kids see the garbageman, sometimes even their garbageman, they fall in love. He’s their idol. They’re so impressed by the truck that they worship the man who seems to tame its force, unafraid of its growling engine and its iron maw. Children are entranced by the garbagemen in the same way we have always admired heroic lumberjacks like Paul Bunyan in the United States or Jos Montferrand in Canada, strongmen from Heracles to Louis Cyr, the fearless log drivers that once plied our rivers…Kids just can’t get enough of us. They’re the only ones who can look beyond the dirt and the smell to love us.

Paré-Poupart is a well-educated garbage collector, and despite his credentials and by personal choice, he stayed on the lowest rung of the trash collector hierarchy. He was one of the guys who ran behind the truck and hefted the bags and cans into the hopper. The writing is so good that you could almost feel yourself there. His central premise is that being a trash collector completely eliminates and of the anxieties most folks would ordinarily feel. You’re already at the lowest position you could possibly occupy in society. There’s no going any lower. And, being a trash collector is tremendously strenuous, and as such, it provided all the endorphins and the natural rush that accompanies other athletic endeavors.

Paré-Poupart wrote quite a bit about the disdain of the communities trash collectors serve, and the reasons why such disdain is misplaced. It made for interesting reading.

Paré-Poupart wrote about the enormous amount of waste modern societies generate, and that the world cannot continue to generate trash at its current rate. I believe there’s a lot of truth in that. When I was a Cal Poly Pomona faculty member, we taught that same concept in the engineering curriculum. It’s interesting: Paré-Poupart occupied what he and many others might regard as one of society’s lowest rungs, and faculty members in an engineering college occupy what many might consider one of society’s highest (i.e., an engineering professor), yet both espouse the same thoughts on waste generation (an issue not generally recognized by society).

Back to my grandson’s fascination with garbage trucks and garbage collectors: My son-in-law discovered that there are numerous YouTube videos on that very topic. My grandson, my son-in-law, and I found them mesmerizing. Here’s an example:

Trash! is a good read. My guess is that it will be a movie before too long, and I’ll watch it, too. But don’t wait for the movie. Trash!, at $18.99, is money well spent. I enjoyed it and I think you will, too.

Robby’s CMP 1911A1

By Joe Berk

There’s something about a U.S. Army 1911A1 that’s just right with the world, and when I received an email from good buddy Robby about his very recent acquisition of a Service Grade .45 Auto from the Civilian Marksmanship Program (the CMP) I immediately knew it would be something I wanted to share with our ExNotes community. Robby’s 1911A1 is the one you see in the photo above, and it is a beauty.

Robby included this video that shows him shooting his new toy. It’s fitting for our 4th of July weekend and for this blog.

Robby’s 1911A1 was manufactured in 1943 during World War II. Having been in the Colt factory and being both a 1911A1 and milsurp weaponry fan, I was curious as to how many 1911A1s Colt made during the War. I Googled the topic and here’s what came back:

Colt made roughly 102,000 M1911A1 pistols in 1943. Production spanned serial numbers 856101 to 958100. This batch included a small group of about 6,575 commercial-to-military converted pistols. During this year, Colt’s total represented only a fraction of the over 750,000 pistols produced across all wartime manufacturers. Because records were shared or duplicated, some 1943 serial blocks (like 856405 to 916404) were assigned to other makers, like Ithaca.

As I wrote above, I have an affinity for military 1911A1s that dates back to my first experiences with the Colt .45 Auto (see the blog on Command Sergeant Major Emory Hickman). Shortly after CSM Hickman taught me how to shoot the .45, I went to the Republic of Korea where I was a platoon leader in the 38th Air Defense Artillery Brigade. When I was over there, our battery’s arms room had about a dozen 1911A1s from various makers. I carried one, but I didn’t get to shoot it until I’d been in country about 8 months. We had no place to practice on our missile site, so I couldn’t shoot the different 1911A1s we had to see which one I liked best. I selected my .45 using an approach that was about as unscientific as could be. I went into the arms room and shook them all (one at a time), and I picked the one that rattled the least. I guess my approach worked well enough, because even though I hadn’t shot a pistol in several months, I won the 38th Brigade pistol championship. By the way, Robby is a competitive shooter, too, and (unlike me) he’s in his prime. If Robby had been in the 38th Air Defense Artillery Brigade 50 years ago, I wouldn’t have come home with that trophy.

Today, America’s 250th birthday, is obviously a very special day. As Bill Clinton once said, there have been a lot of people who bet against America in the last 250 years, and they’ve lost money every time. He’s right. We’re not perfect, but I am convinced we’re the closest thing to it. Enjoy the day, happy 4th of July, and here’s to another 250 years!

More 1911A1 and other pistolero tales are here!