I first met Buffalo Bonker on one of the CSC Baja rides and I liked the guy immediately. I think it may have taken him a bit longer to warm up to me, but I’m told I’m an acquired taste, so that’s okay. Anyway, Buffalo bought his first motorcycle ever and learned to ride just for the Baja trip, and he caught the spirit. The guy is a true adventure rider, so much so that he and his cousin (and his cousin’s daughter) flew to Vietnam, rented motorcycles, and toured the country. That’s very, very cool. I’m in awe.
Buffalo created a series of videos about his Vietnam adventure ride. I’m including the first one here, and a link to the entire series. Enjoy, my friends. I sure did!
The latest rendition of a classic rifle: Marlin’s new 336 Texan Deluxe in .30-30.
Over the years, Marlin has offered more than a few variations of their venerable 336 lever action rifle in a variety of chamberings, with the most prolific cartridge being the tried and true .30-30. I’m a true believer in Marlin lever guns, as you know from reading the blog about the Marlin 336 Octagon earlier (it’s one of the super rare variants of this fine rifle). The Marlin boys (formerly of New Haven, now out of Ilion, NY) had versions of the 336 with long barrels, short barrels, in-between barrels, commemoratives of various flavors, straight grip stocks, pistol grip stocks, walnut stocks, birch stocks, laminated stocks, blued carbon steel, stainless steel, standard levers, big loop levers, and more. People have focused entire collecti0ns on (and written books about) Marlins.
One of the more graceful versions of the 336 Marlin rifle was the Texan, an earlier straight-grip, walnut-stocked number that to my eye just looked right. I like a straight-gripped stock, and to me blue steel and walnut is the Holy Grail. The older Marlin Texans are not super rare, but they’re not common, either, and when a used Texan comes up for sale it commands a premium price. As is the case with most guns, a used Texan today would sell for many multiples of its original price. That’s kind of the justification I’ve used whenever I’ve purchased any gun, but in the Marlin Texan’s case, it’s actually true. As an aside, guns of any flavor generally go up in value (they are one of the few things in life that do). And as an aside to that, most of us who play with these things generally tell our significant others that we paid less than we actually did, secure in the knowledge that the value is going to go up anyway. (We don’t spend too much; we just buy too soon sometimes.) It brings to mind the Gun Collector’s Prayer:
Lord, when I go, please don’t let my wife sell my guns for what I told her I paid for them…
So, to get back on topic: Several months ago, Marlin reintroduced the Texan. To back up a bit, I mentioned in an earlier blog that Marlin was acquired by Remington, and Remington moved the Marlin production equipment from New Haven (the old Marlin plant) to their plant in Ilion, New York. And as I explained in that earlier blog, there was a feeling that quality dipped during the transition. Well, you can rest easy, folks: Marlin quality is most definitely back now. In fact, I think the new Marlins are of even better quality than the rifles produced in New Haven. I know a little bit about quality and I know a little bit about guns, and unlike most of the people expressing opinions on the Internet, I actually own rifles made in both places.
Marlin is calling their new model the Texan Deluxe. The concept had my interest immediately. A new Texan, I knew, would be something special, and this one sure is. It has light engraving, a gold inlay of the Marlin ranger, and what Marlin is calling B-grade walnut. B-grade should indicate walnut with a bit of figure, but in following the auctions and sales on Gunbroker.com, everything I saw had plain, straight-grained wood. They were good-looking rifles, but I wanted something with fancier wood and I just had not seen anything online that met my expectations. In fact, I had not seen any of the new Texans in any of the gun stores I visited (I only saw these rifles on the Internet). But that all changed recently.
Fast forward to one month ago. I had taken my Subie in for an oil change. There’s a gun store not too far from the Subaru dealer (Ammo Brothers, a California chain). When I left, it was raining cats and dogs, traffic was terrible, and I thought I would kill some time by seeing what the Bros (as in the aforementioned Ammo Brothers) had in stock.
You can guess where this story is going.
I checked the handguns, the reloading components, and more. Reasonable prices, reasonable inventory, and then before I left, I did a quick scan of the rifles they had on display. To my great surprise, Ammo Brothers had a new Texan Deluxe in the rack. And, it had stunning wood. I asked to see it. The young dude behind the counter handed the rifle to me. It was flawless. No nicks, no dings, perfect wood-to-metal fit, and wow, the walnut was exquisite.
“Do you have any more in stock?” I asked. I always ask. They might have one in back with even nicer wood, although I knew the one I was holding would be impossible to beat. The guy checked; the one in my hands was the only one they had. “Can you knock anything off the price?” Nope, it was what it was. He told me they were hard to get. Tell me about it, I thought.
“I’ll take it,” I said. And as Forrest Gump would say, just like that I had me a new Marlin 336 Texan Deluxe. One with walnut I thought was way better than B-grade wood.
Well, not quite just like that. I had to wait my 10-day Peoples Republik of Kalifornia kooling-off period. You know, so I wouldn’t run out and rob a liquor store or stick up a gas station. You never know.
My new Marlin at Ammo Brothers. Check out the highly-figured walnut. As walnut ratings go, I’d call this AA wood, not B-grade. Sometimes you just get lucky.My Texan, port side. Nice. Very nice.A closer shot of that fabulous wood.Light engraving, and the Marlin Ranger…it all works very well together.A simulated ivory front sight. A white bead front sight is a great concept and it works. Good visibility and it doesn’t track the sun like a brass bead.Even the fore end is highly figured. This is a beautiful lever gun.
Two weeks later, I had the new Texan on the range, and I have to tell you, it is a honey. The trigger is only slightly on the heavy side, and it is crisp. It has a white bead front sight, and I really like that (I don’t like a brass bead front sight, as that tends to shoot to a variable point of impact depending on where the sun is). The new Marlin shot to the right, but that’s something easily corrected with a brass drift, and it’s a normal part of zeroing in a rifle. Good buddy Paul made a brass drift for me and the sight has already been put where it needs to be.
What’s really nice about the new Marlin is that it groups well. You can see that in the photo at the top of this blog. I tried four different loads and all grouped well, including a reduced load with cast bullets and Trail Boss powder (that combo recoils and sounds about like a .22, and that’s really cool). Here are the results…
A few of the loads, which are very promising. WW 748 is another propellant that works well in the .30-30; that’s a load for another range session. These are the first four loads through this rifle. All groups were fired at 50 yards.
I didn’t measure the cast loads because I shot a bunch of them (not my usual three-shot groups) and I used a non-distinct aim point. The cast bullets shot about 6 inches low at 50 yards compared to a full-power jacketed bullet load. But the cast bullet group (using a flaky aim point) was relatively tight. Good stuff, and I’ll shoot more of those on my next visit to the range. I’m going to load some up today.
The other surprise was how easy the Marlin was to clean. Marlins break down for cleaning far easier than the Winchester 94 (I knew that going in). On a Marlin, you remove the lever pivot screw, and that allows withdrawing the lever, the bolt, and the ejector, and that in turn allows clearing the rifle’s barrel from the breech (rather than the muzzle). On a Winchester 94, it’s quite a bit more complicated (so much so that I’ve never kept a Winchester 94 for very long). Marlin builds a better mousetrap.
What I didn’t realize is how well Marlin is making these barrels. Marlin uses their micro-groove approach on the .30-30 336, which means there are a dozen relatively shallow lands and grooves in the bore. That makes for less bullet deformation, and the theory is the things are more accurate than a conventional rifle with Ballard lands and grooves (which are deeper than micro-grooves). Accuracy aside, micro-grooving also makes the bore much easier to clean. The bore in my new Texan is super polished, and it’s actually blued in there, too. Some folks think that micro-groove rifling doesn’t allow a rifle to shoot cast bullets, but I didn’t find that to be the case at all. My rifle handled cast 190-grain bullets with no problems, great accuracy, and no leading.
The bottom line: This new Texan is stunning. Marlin is back, folks.
You guys and gals will remember my good buddy Baja John, a guy with whom I’ve been exploring Baja for close to three decades now…
Baja John back in the mid-’90s. Big V-twins and black leather were all the rage. I shot this photo at La Bufadora during a break in the El Nino rains.
John sent an invitation to me to ride with him in Baja this month, but I couldn’t make it (I’ve been in northern California this week). I suggested to John that our ExNotes readers sure would appreciate it, though, if he could send photos from his trip, though, and here’s an email I just received from him…
Joe,
I was originally going to send you just the pictures when you mentioned putting pictures in the blog, so I thought that you might want a story to go with them. I’ve attached a Word document with a story just in case. For some reason, I cannot transfer the pictures to my laptop, so I left places within the document to place the pictures. I will try again to upload the pictures from my phone to my email. Hopefully it works this time. It should be easy to figure out which picture goes where. If you don’t want the story, just enjoy the pictures. BTW, I just finished two fish tacos and two shrimp tacos at Antonio’s. I may go back and eat another one for you before I leave town.
John
That sounds awesome, John. Tell Tony hi for me when you see him again, and tell him I’ll be down there soon enough! We sure appreciate the story and the photos. And folks, without further ado, here’s Baja John’s most recent Baja adventure…
In early 2002, I bought a house in Bahia de Los Angeles on the Baja Peninsula with thoughts of retiring there someday. Over the ensuing years, I continued to ride motorcycles to and from Mexico, anxious for the day when I could leave from my house in Mexico instead of riding 600 miles just to get there, and then begin my ride. Well, that day finally arrived, and I decided to take a ride to Jardines in San Quintin for lunch. I’d heard a number of positive remarks from fellow Americans who had stayed there and who had eaten there. It was time to give the place a personal assessment.
I packed some snacks and water in my tank bag in preparation for my trip. The morning was cool and crisp when I left. It was within a couple of days of the winter solstice and the days were short, so my plan was to leave at sunup, hoping to complete the 450-mile roundtrip before dark. This picture was taken about 20 miles out of town.
The fog nestled so close to the ground made it appear as though I was looking at a forest of cacti poking their heads through the clouds. For some unknown reason, I took that as an omen of good things to come. I passed one truck on that 40 mile stretch to the main highway.
When I reached the junction at Highway 1, my fuel gauge read 3/4 full. I turned to the north, and immediately saw this sign.
I wasn’t yet familiar with my CSC TT250, but I had read reviews of 65 mpg, and since I didn’t yet know what 3/4 full meant on my bike, I decided to press on, optimistic that I would find gas somewhere on the way.
Traffic increased on Highway 1. I guess that’s to be expected since it’s the only paved highway that travels the entire length of the peninsula. After passing 6 vehicles within the first 30 minutes, I decided that traffic probably wasn’t going to be bad enough to have a negative impact on my ride, so I continued north, enjoying the solitude and watching the highway twist its way through the desert as I came down yet another mountain.
As I continued north, I noticed my gas gauge reaching 1/2 full at Chapala. I still had 63 miles to go to Catavina, which was the only place that I thought may have gas. Hoping that the gauge accuracy was a bit on the conservative side, I continued on. Running the numbers in my head, I concluded that I should make it to Catavina, even if my actual fuel level was a little less than indicated. However, if Catavina didn’t have gas, then I was going to either have to stay there until I could find someone passing through with extra gas, or try to locate a rancho that might have a couple of gallons to spare. Fortunately, in Catavina I came across a small sign stuck in the dirt on the left side of the highway that said Pemex. The arrow pointed to the right side of the road, and as my eyes scanned the opposite side of the highway, I saw a pickup truck with a couple of 55 gal drums and a few one gallon plastic containers. By this time I had travelled about half the distance to San Quintin, and although my low fuel light was already flashing, I still had not gone on reserve
I figured the price would be astronomical, but that was ok since I would only need a couple of gallons. Surprisingly, it was only $1 per gallon higher than the Pemex station where I had filled up in my town the day before. Confident that I could now make it the rest of the way to San Quintin, I pressed on north, maintaining between 60 and 65 mph indicated.
The desert continued to get greener as I closed in on the town of El Rosario where Mama Espinoza’s famous restaurant is located. I passed by knowing that I had a meal waiting for me in less than an hour at Jardine’s. Traffic remained consistent through the remainder of my trip, and I reached my destination at 11 a.m.
Jardines was like an oasis in the middle of the desert. There were no signs indicating its presence, and as I turned off the main highway just south of town, I thought the place must really be nice since it appeared that they relied on word of mouth for advertisement. Making the turn onto the final dirt road, I still didn’t see it, and there was no indication that a hotel existed anywhere ahead.
After a 1/2 mile, a beautiful hotel, restaurant, and gardens appeared on the right through the trees.
I pulled into the empty parking lot of the restaurant, dismounted, and approached the door. It was locked. Fortunately the hours were posted. Another hour before they opened. That wasn’t good. If I waited around until they opened, got seated and served, I wouldn’t get back on the road until after 1 p.m. That would make it difficult to make it home before dark. Hmmm! Better check the hotel. I had heard the rates were good, but I was pleasantly surprised that a single room was only $31. A two bedroom-suite was a bit steeper at $45. It didn’t take me long to decide to take advantage of one of the perks of retirement – unscheduled time. I quickly pulled out my wallet, checked in, walked around the grounds for a few minutes, and then waited outside the restaurant until they opened.
I opted for the Mediterranean Shrimp at $8.40.
It was fantastic. I was seriously glad that I decided to stay. I kept occupied throughout the day by reading my kindle and talking to Anna, the hotel manager that day. She had spent several years in Wichita, KS, so she spoke English quite well. That night I paid a whopping $4.00 for some Fish and Chips. Another great meal.
The next morning I took my time riding around the area before heading home. I finally left town at 11 a.m. Traffic was the same as the previous day, and I made it home at 3:30 p.m. I stopped for a moment, looking at the moon over the bay before winding my way down the mountain toward home.
Hard to believe; for less than $100 I had a wonderful two days of riding, great food, a good night’s sleep and not one stop light. I feel truly blessed.
Just awesome, John! I had never heard of Jardines, but you can bet it’s on the list for my next visit. Thanks again.
Folks, if you’d like to know more about Baja and our moto adventures down there (and our recommended insurance company, BajaBound), just click here! And if you’d like a more in-depth discussion of what is arguably the greatest adventure riding spot on the planet, why not pick up a copy of Moto Baja!
This article in Barron’s on Harley’s sales popped up recently. The bottom line is that Harley’s sales are dropping more than predicted, and things are not looking good in Milwaukee. It’s simultaneously interesting and disappointing. I don’t like it when any motorcycle company has bad news, and I’m hoping that Harley gets it turned around. Harley is introducing new, smaller motorcycles, and I think that’s the ticket back. The question is: Can they do it quickly enough?
Harley has a tough row to hoe, having built their business selling overweight, underperforming, uber-expensive bikes to a clientele that is aging out. The smart move would be to acquire a small motorcycle manufacturer or importer with a proven track record and to then build on that success, but hey, what do I know? I know there aren’t too many people left willing to shell out $20K to $40K for chrome, conchos, and leather fringe. I also know that you can’t get inventory fast enough when you’re selling new motorcycles for $2K, or maybe $4K.
We’ll see.
Your thoughts on all of this? Leave us a comment and let us know where you think the market is going, why a great old company like Harley is having such a tough time in a booming ec0nomy, or any other topic.
Hey, one more thing: There are less than 4 more days left to get in on our moto-adventure book drawing! Just leave your email address for automatic email notifications, and you’re entered!
A full day, Day 1 of the TFC05 was. 700 miles, two countries, and three US states. Good times and a great start!
Tijuana is where the 2005 Three Flags Classic started, and in order to start from there, we had to get there. Marty and I both live near Los Angeles in southern California, and we had both ridden in Baja before, so getting to Mexico was not that intimidating. But it was still a 140 mile ride for us and it still involved crossing an international border. We rode down the afternoon before our departure, allowing sufficient time to find and check into the Tijuana Grand Hotel.
I was a bit nervous that day. Yeah, I had done a number of big rides already, but for this one, I knew that I would be on the road for two weeks and that we would cover about 5,000 miles. I also knew part of it would be hot, part of it would be cold, part of it would be sunny, and parts of it would most likely be wet. I would be right on all counts. I just didn’t know (yet) just how right I would be on all counts.
We arrived in mid-afternoon and walked around Tijuana a bit. In those days, crossing the border into Mexico was probably the easiest border crossing you might imagine. There were no stops, no visa required, no questions to answer…no anything. All there was to it was riding under a sign that said Bienvenidos A Mexico, and trying not to drop your bike riding across a line of monstrous Bots dots (you know, those polished metal hemispheres the size of a large grapefruit…they were designed to slow vehicular traffic, and they worked). Just like that, and we were in Old Mexico.
We found Tijuana’s Grand Hotel, we checked in, and we walked around downtown TJ a bit. It was fun. Goofy photos, and more.
Tijuana, the starting point of the Three Flags Classic. This was the view from our room in the Tijuana Grand Hotel.Yep, Tijuana. Just making sure.A sculpture in Tijuana.
We were having a good time, but what was really on our minds was the 3:00 a.m. departure the next day. We were both a bit nervous about that. To leave at 3:00 a.m., we’d have to get up at 2:00 a.m. I briefly thought about staying up all night (after all, getting up at 2:00 a.m. would practically be the same thing), but I decided to turn in early and do the best I could to get some shuteye. I might not have bothered…I was too nervous to really sleep well. I knew we would be covering about 700 miles the next day, I was afraid I would oversleep the next morning, and I usually don’t sleep well the night before a big a trip. I was in bed for maybe 5 hours that night, but I probably only slept for 45 minutes.
Whooping it up the night before our departure in the Grand Hotel in Tijuana. We would all be on the road at 3:00 a.m. the next morning. Can you picture almost 500 motorcycles at the border crossing at that hour!We had an excellent buffet in the Grand Hotel the night before we left. We were on the road for 12 days and we never had a bad meal.
The next morning, well before sunup, we were off. Normally, even back in those days, the border crossing re-entering the US in Tijuana is difficult. Picture this…nearly 500 motorcycles idling north into a crowded but huge border station. There were maybe 15 lanes heading north, but only two were open at that early hour. All of our bikes were in those two lanes, with maybe 20 cars in front of us. But the US border officers were efficient. They opened several more lanes and motioned for the bikes to move into the newly-opened portals. We were across the border in minutes. It could have taken hours, so this was a big deal.
Once we entered the US, it was north on I-5, and then east on I-8, which we would follow well into Arizona. It was still dark out, and we rode directly into what would soon be the rising sun. It was cool, but not cold. Life was good. My Triumph was purring (or growling, depending on throttle position…nothing sounds as good as a Triumph motorcycle). There were literally hundreds of motorcycles, and all were fellow Three Flags riders. We were alive, out in the world, riding motorcycles in one of the world’s greatest motorcycle adventures. We already had knocked down two of the Three Flags, and the sun was still hiding below a distant horizon. This was good stuff.
The first checkpoint, in Holbrook, Arizona.
Our first checkpoint on the Three Flags Classic would be in Holbrook, Arizona. Marty had done this before, and he knew the drill. I followed his lead. I was lucky to be riding with a much more experienced motorcyclist. It took away any anxiety. It was a good feeling.
More Three Flags riders in Arizona. There were quite a few Harleys in this event. This is on the road to Payson.Marty and I in Arizona on the first day of the event.
Shortly after we stepped up to get our event passports stamped, we experienced a severe rainstorm. We were delayed at the checkpoint for about an hour. I didn’t care. Covering the remaining miles that first day would take what it would take, as would the miles on the rest of the ride. Yeah, we had to make the checkpoints. But we were doing well. My Triumph was running well. Marty’s BMW was the Rolex of motorcycles, and it always did well.
After hitting the first checkpoint and after the rain stopped, we continued our ride and crossed the state line into New Mexico. Wowee…what a day: Mexico. California. Arizona. New Mexico. Two countries. Three states. All in a single day. We stopped to take a few photos, and I was loving it. My Nikon N70 35mm film camera was doing its thing, and I was working it. I was seeing grand sights and and I wanted to capture it all. I had two lenses with me…the old first generation 24-120 Nikon lens, and a 17-35 Sigma wide angle (which was actually a pretty decent lens). Our bikes were magnificent…both 1200cc road-burning four-cylinder monsters, both with visually-arresting yellow paint themes, and both capable of stratospheric speeds and arm-stretching acceleration. Both bikes could easily top 160 mph. We could (and at times during the Three Flags we would) cruise for long stretches at speeds well over 120 mph, knowing adventures like this were what the engineers in Bavaria and England had in mind when they designed these motorcycles. Great bikes, great company, great roads, and great scenery. It was an awesome show, and we were the stars.
We covered 700 miles that first day, which would be our highest mileage day for the entire Three Flags Classic. The guys who organized the 3FC05 had it wired. The first day was the big mileage day, and every day after that the miles would decrease a bit. It was a well organized event. Hit the checkpoints, see what you want to see along the way, stay wherever you want, but hit the checkpoints. It’s a great formula, and it made for a great ride.
That first night, we stayed in Gallup, New Mexico. I’d never been there before. Gallup, New Mexico. On a motorcycle. Wow. The next day, the adventure would continue. I couldn’t wait.
Hey, read the prequel to this great story here! And would you like to know more about that dynamite Daytona 1200 I rode in the Three Flags Classic? That story is here!
This is a blog I originally posted on the CSC blog, and I like it so much I want to include it here on ExNotes. The topic is, as the title implies, the ebike scene in China.
I encountered electric bikes in a major way on my RX3 ride across China (you can read that great story in Riding China). Electric scooters and other vehicles are everywhere in China. Quite simply, electric vehicles are a way of life over there. Rather than babble on about that, I thought I would include an excerpt from a Riding China chapter. The locale is Beijing, where I was struggling with the heat and a minor injury…I had been nailed in the eye by a bug the night before, and…well, let me get to the pages I’m talking about…
The next day we took the subway into Beijing. We already were in Beijing when we got on the subway, but Beijing is a megacity and you can’t simply drive into the center of it. We rode the subway for a good 45 minutes, and when we emerged, we visited the Forbidden City and Tien An Men Square. It was all grand. It was touristy, but it’s something that should be on any China visitor’s bucket list.
At the entrance to the Forbidden City.In the Forbidden City. It’s an amazing thing to see.A glimpse of ancient Chinese architecture in the Forbidden City.
After seeing the Forbidden City, we walked around downtown Beijing for a while. I told Tracy (note: Tracy was our translator on this trip) my eye was getting worse and I wanted to get antibiotic eye drops for it. It was Sunday afternoon, but there was a large pharmacy right in front of us and it was open. Tracy went in with me and he told one of the young pharmacists what I wanted. She responded and it didn’t sound good.
“She cannot sell it to you without a prescription,” he told me.
“Well, shoot, Tracy, it’s Sunday afternoon,” I said. “We’re not going to find a doctor. I’ll be okay. Let’s just go.”
“No, it is okay, Dajiu,” he said. “We are China and we have a bureaucracy. It is my bad.”
Good old Tracy, I thought. The guy felt responsible for everything. I was resigned to the fact that my eye was going to take a while to get better. Tracy, in the meantime, had walked not more than 8 feet away to an elderly woman sitting at a wooden table. He spoke to her in Chinese and pointed to me. She never looked at me, nor did she look up. She simply pulled out a white pad with a big “R” at the top. Nah, this can’t be, I thought. She wrote something in Chinese characters and handed the slip to Tracy.
“Our prescription,” Tracy said. “Such a bureaucracy.” He walked the three steps back to the pharmacist, Tracy handed her the prescription, and 30 seconds (and 24 yuan, or about $4) later, I had my antibiotic eye drops. I put two drops in my eye.
When we got off the subway after visiting The Forbidden City and the center of Beijing, we waited on a street corner for our Uber ride back to the hotel. I watched the scooters and small utility vehicles rolling by, and I realized that nearly every one of them was electric. I must have seen 200 scooters during the 20 minutes we waited, and perhaps 2 had gasoline engines. This wholesale adaption of electric scooters and small utility vehicles in China is nothing short of amazing.
One of many, many electric bikes and scooters in Beijing.Another electric scooter……and another……and another……and another……and another……and another……and another. They were all over. I’d never seen anything like it.
Sean (our guide) explained to me that the transition to electric vehicles started about 15 years ago, and the government has done a number of things to encourage people to convert to electricity. For starters (once again, pardon my pun), many of the larger cities in China now prohibit motorcycles and scooters unless the vehicle is electric. Electric scooters are allowed where gasoline-powered bikes are not. That alone is an enormous incentive. The next incentive is that you don’t need a driver’s license to take an electric vehicle on the street. You just buy one and go. And finally, as I’ve mentioned before, electricity is cheap in China. There are windfarms, solar panel farms, coal plants, nuclear power plants, and hydroelectric power plants all over the country. We saw scooters parked on the sidewalk and plugged into extension cords running into small stores everywhere. People charge them like iPhones; they didn’t miss any opportunity to top off the batteries on these things.
An unusual electric trike in Beijing. We saw many unusual electric vehicles in China.
That night was a great night. The Zongshen dealer took us to a restaurant that specialized in Peking duck. The guys were excited about this development, but I was initially leery. I thought I didn’t like Peking duck. Boy, was I ever wrong! I tried Peking duck 25 years ago when I visited Beijing with Sue. We both thought the duck was awful. That’s because we went to a restaurant that served tourists. The food at that place didn’t have to be good. They knew they would never see us again, and Yelp hadn’t been invented yet.
This night in Beijing with the Zongshen dealer and the RX3 owners club was different. The Peking duck was incredible. The chef sliced it paper thin right at our table. They had thin tofu (almost like a crepe), and the guys taught me how to eat duck properly. The deal is you put a few fresh vegetables on the tofu, you add a slice or two of duck, you add this amazing brown gravy, and then you roll the affair up like a burrito. Wow, it was delicious!
We had several rounds of toasts at dinner that night and the liquor flowed freely. I got lucky. Kong sat next to me and he schooled me in the proper way to make a Chinese toast. To show respect, you clink your glass against the other guy’s glass, but you hold your glass at a lower level so that when the two glasses meet, the rim of yours is lower than the other person’s. When the Zongshen dealer toasted me, I followed Kong’s advice, and the Chinese riders all nodded approvingly. Ah, Dajiu knows.
It was funny. Sergeant Zuo and I had made several toasts to each other, and when we touched glasses, we both tried frantically to get our glasses lower than the other, so much so that we usually crashed the bottoms of both on the table (to a hearty laugh and round of applause from everyone). Zuo was being polite; I was being completely serious (I have enormous respect for him).
It was a great night, and the next morning was even better. Those eye drops Tracy had helped me secure a prescription for did the trick. When we rode out of Beijing the next morning, my eye was good as new.
So there you have it. It was in China that I realized this electric bike thing is for real. It’s not just a fad. I think it’s going to be for real in the rest of the world, too. It is the future.
You can read our other ebike materials here, and check back here on the ExNotes site regularly. We’ll be including new ebike materials often.
We hope you have a great Christmas, folks! Three years ago I was in Colombia for a motorcycle ride through the Andes Mountains, and one of the high points of that fabulous adventure was our visit to a little town called La Playa de Belem. It was a grand evening, as you can see here…
Enjoy the holidays…ride safe, shoot straight, and keep your powder dry!
My good buddy Paul, whom you’ve already read about on the ExNotes blog, is a retired aerospace engineer who has way more talent than me in the gun-tinkering arena. During one of our shooting expeditions, Paul brought along an interesting 1911…a .45 that he had re-barreled to shoot 9mm. There’s not a simple proposition, but hey, Paul’s good at this stuff and his 9mm conversion shot well. Then, a few months ago, we had a discussion about the merits of the .38 Super cartridge. That’s a round similar to the 9mm, but the case is longer, allowing for more propellant. The result? The .38 Super’s velocity is substantially higher than a 9mm (the .38 Super is roughly equivalent to a .357 Magnum).
Well, one thing led to another, I guess, and I received an interesting photo and email from Paul a few days ago…
A four-fer, so to speak….a 1911 that can shoot .45 ACP, .38 Super, 9mm, and .22 Long Rifle.
Joe:
I started this project about 5 or 6 years ago. My intent originally was to buy a stainless steel Springfield 1911 9mm target pistol. At the time they were very scarce and wait time was close to a year at an inflated price. I then decided to purchase a mil spec .45 and buy a Caspian 9mm slide, barrel and slide components to convert the .45 to 9mm. I said to myself that if I was going this far with the project that I would buy a .38 Super barrel and have a pistol that will convert into a .45, 9mm, and .38 Super. I did the Caspian slide and 9mm Nowlin barrel fitting first, a few months after I originally purchased the pistol.
I shot the pistol in 9mm conversion at Joe’s range a few years back and it performed very well. The .38 Super conversion was put on hold until now. I purchased a new oversized bushing and three different barrel links to get the correct lockup, which arrived from Brownell’s a few days ago. I recontoured the barrel and fit the bushing to barrel, and then to the slide. This took 3+ hours to do with a 0.0005″ to 0.001″ tolerance fit on all surfaces. Link and lockup fitting were next.
When I fit the link to the barrel, a job that I thought would take 10 minutes, it actually took 1.5 hours. That barrel must have been a budget-manufactured barrel because the workmanship was poor in the link recess and not deep enough to allow the link to fully seat. I’m glad I have a milling machine. The lockup is now solid and everything cycles as it should.
I think it’s ready to test fire but first I have to reload some ammo for it. I’m going to do a Cerrosafe casting of the bore to see what the diameter is. The spec for the bullet diameter for the .38 Super is 0.356-inch and the 9mm it is 0.355-inch. I have some Berry’s plated bullets that are 0.356 but I’m not sure if they are 115 or 124 grains. I want to use 124 to 130 grain bullets. I do have a fair amount of 124 gr semi-wadcutter cast bullets that I did many years ago for my Colt 9mm target bullet experiment but I never sized or lubed them (looks like I’ll be bringing out the bullet sizer/luber). Not too sure that this style of bullet will cycle, but it’s worth a try.
I also purchased a .22 LR conversion kit for this pistol about four years ago, which I have also previously shot. So, now this 1911 Springfield Mil Spec will shoot .45 ACP, 9mm Luger, .38 Super, and .22 LR when it’s finally finished…how neat is that!
Paul
That’s awesome, Paul…and thanks for taking the time to explain your approach and for the photo. It’s a cool handgun and having that kind of versatility is a slick concept. I think it has to be especially satisfying knowing that you built it yourself.
We’ve found that folks who ride are frequently into guns, and vice versa (like good buddy Paul). It’s why we include interesting Tales of the Gun stories on the ExNotes blog. Want to see more?
I like to read the ExhaustNotes blog. In the aerospace industry, if you liked what your team created too much, we called it drinking your own bath water. The risk in drinking your own bath water was that you lost sight of what was important to the customer and you stopped reviewing your work objectively. Anyway, every once in a while I’ll read through the blog to see what looks good and what we could maybe do better. And in doing that I realized that old Arjiu and I hadn’t done a dream bike piece recently.
That brings us to today and the dream bike bit du jour: The Ideal Electric Motorcycle. I’m going to define the specs for what I think would be a riotously successful electric motorcycle. Bear with me…I think this is going to be good, which can sometimes happen even with bath water.
I guess the first order of business is to consider the current crop of ebikes’ weaknesses. That’s easy. Limited range, limited top speed, long recharge times, clunky and bulky external chargers (for some bikes), and the biggest one of all (at least to me): A near complete lack of cool. Yeah, I’m defining the specs for an ebike that would do well in the US, and the lack of cool is a very big deal. We have to address that. It’s a serious shortfall in all the ebikes I’ve seen. I mean, nobody visualizes themselves as Steve McQueen jumping a fence in Nazi Germany on an ebike. Nobody thinks of themselves as Peter Fonda kickstarting a silent ebike to take Nancy Sinatra for a ride.
Remember that old Harley ad? The one that showed a toddler in a Harley T-shirt with the this question at the bottom: When did it start for you? That ad says it all. I know for me, and I suspect for nearly all of you, our fascination with motorcycles originated when we were wee ones and we saw a motorcycle that stopped us in our Buster Brown tracks. You know what I’m talking about. A bike that made us just stop and stare, usually for a long period of time. I have two such recollections: One was a 1950’s era Harley Duo-Glide dresser (with a monstrous V-twin engine, corrugated exhaust headers, and drop-dead-deep-gorgeous paint); the other was a ’64 500cc Triumph twin (white with gold accents, pea-shooter mufflers, Triumph’s “parcel grid” on the gas tank, a matching tach and speedo, and those magnificent, sweeping exhaust headers). Yeah, those bikes defined cool. They were visually arresting things. None of the ebikes currently on the market do that for me. Like my old platoon sergeant used to say, this is something we need to talk about.
Serious cool. Visually arresting. I’m not saying an ebike should look like a Panhead, but a Panhead has a cool factor that no current ebike possesses. We need to address that. We need to find a way to have an ebike elicit the same kind of irrational, emotional, I-need-this-in-my-life response.
Okay, enough reminiscing. Let’s get to the specs. The way I see it, we need to address weight, size, top end, range, recharging, cost, comfort, and the cool factor. Here we go, boys and girls…
Let’s hit the elephant in the room first, and that’s the range issue. We need more. Nobody has a motorcycle with decent range. The City Slicker, under best case conditions (I’m talking low speeds and summer temperatures) can do about 60 miles, maybe a scosh more, and obtaining the last few miles involves really low speeds and lots of prayer. Zero claims much greater range, but every magazine that’s tested the Zero shoots those claims down with a heartfelt dismissal that goes along the lines of “in your dreams, Zero.” Nope, the range on the current crop of ebikes just isn’t where it needs to be yet. Where is that? Hey, I’m writing the spec. I’d say 250 miles. Put an ebike out there that can go an honest 250 miles at normal speeds, and I’m in. I think that should be doable at a reasonable price (I’ll say more on that in a bit). Yeah, a 250-mile range would make an ebike viable for me.
We want range, and lots of it. If an ebike had a range of 250 miles and a recharge time of 30 minutes, I could ride to Mama Espinoza’s in El Rosario, charge the bike while I was enjoying one of the old gal’s lobster burritos, and make it all the way to Guerrero Negro in a day. Where do I sign?
Next up: Recharging. Look, the bottom line is I don’t want to wait 8 hours to recharge a bike. As long as I’m writing the spec and dreaming out loud, I’d like to see a sub-30-minute recharge time. When I stop at a gas station, it’s about 10 minutes to pull up to the pump, put the bike on the sidestand, get off, take off my gloves, unlock the fuel cap, get out my wallet, put the credit card in the gas pump, enter my zip code, pick the octane level I want, take the nozzle out of the pump, peel back the nozzle’s foreskin so the fuel will flow (hey, we live in Kalifornia), put fuel in the tank, and then reverse the process. Add another rider or maybe another ten riders (if I’m on one of my Baja tours and I’m being my usual hardass self about not wasting time), and a fuel stop grows to maybe 30 minutes. I’m used to that, and that’s what I want in an ebike: Quick replenishment. That’s beyond the current state of the art, but don’t tell me we can’t do it. The solution is obvious: We need to change the state of the art.
On the recharger, I want it built into the bike, with a simple cord that pulls out of the bike to plug in someplace (kind of like you get on a vacuum cleaner). Give me a 15-foot cord and I’m good to go. I don’t want to screw around with an external power converter, because then I’d have to find a place to carry it on the bike. Build that thing into the motorcycle. Zero has the right idea on this one.
I think an 85-mph top speed is good. I know, I know…maybe you’re one of those guys: Ah need at least a 1000cc and Ah need to go at least a hunnert else they’ll run me down on the freeway. If that’s you, don’t waste any more time here; go back to posting stupid stuff on Facebook and the other forums. Here’s the deal: I’ve been riding for a few years, and the times I’ve needed to go above 85 mph are few and far between. In fact, I’ve never actually “needed” to go over 85. Adding top end takes a big bite out of an ebike. I’m willing to give up stupid top end to get more range, shorter recharge times, and less weight. So, 85 mph it is. Give me that in an ebike and I’m a happy camper.
I want a reasonable amount of stowage space so I can do Baja without bungee cords. Some folks look like they’re moving when they go on an overnight motorcycle trip. I’ve ridden with those guys. They and their bikes are like the opening Beverly Hillbillies scene with Granny on top of the pickup truck (not that’s there’s anything wrong with being a hillbilly, or a Granny, for that matter). The City Slicker has a cool stowage compartment where the fuel tank would be on a gas bike. Something like that would work just fine for me. I don’t need to change my underwear every day on a motorcycle trip.
The ideal motorcycle (not just an ebike, but any motorcycle, in my opinion) should have a seat height no higher than 30 inches, a weight of 400 lbs or less, and physical dimensions that allow for easy u-turns on two-lane roads. None of this 36-inch seat height, 800-lb silliness. The ergonomics should be straight standard motorcycle, too. No Ricky Racer, stupidly-low-clip-on, first-two-years-of-chiropractor-visits-are-free seating positions. And while I’m on doctor references, no gynecological-exam, silly-ass cruiser seating positions, either. If the designers of my ideal ebike could just get a 2006 KLR 650 and duplicate its handlebar/seat/footpeg relationship, that would be fine. My KLR had the best seating position of any motorcycle I’ve ever owned.
I’d vote for 17-inch rear and 19-inch front wheels because that combo just flat seems to work for damn near everything. I won’t be jumping any logs with my ideal ebike or trying to fly across soft sand, and that eliminates the need for a 21-inch front wheel. And everybody has all kinds of tire combos for the 17/19 setup. To borrow a phrase, why re-invent the wheel?
I want a plug-and-play bike with BITE. Not as in “bite me,” but as in built-in-test-equipment (like the aerospace industry uses). That would completely eliminate the need for a dealer (come to think of it, it would also eliminate the need for a shop manual). No obscene, inflated dealer freight and setup fees. Nope, I want factory direct. And if anything goes wrong with the bike, it shows me which module I need to remove and replace. Plug and play. I don’t feel the need to fund an on-the-job-training program for a dealer-based, wannabe motorcycle mechanic. BITE me, baby.
I think the cost of such a bike should be about $7,500. That feels about right for what a motorcycle should cost. Yeah, I know, you probably couldn’t build it for that in America. Maybe India? Or China? Or maybe you could make it in America. Source the subassemblies wherever you need to, keep the UAW and IAM snouts out of the trough, and assemble the bikes here. Create 30 to 50 US jobs at an assembly plant, preferably in Texas or New Mexico. This is doable, folks. Trust me on this. I used to run manufacturing facilities before I moved up to blogging. We can do this.
So there you have it. Do all of the above, and folks would beat a digital path to your online direct sales website. Yep, all of the above, at $7,500. That’s the ticket.
Oh, and one last must have: Electric start. Peter and Nancy (and the rest of the Wild Angels cast), my apologies in advance, but no kickers on my ideal electric bike. I know they’re cool, but this is the 21st Century.
Want to read more of our ebike stuff? Hey, just click here! It’s our new index page with all the good ebike articles we’ve done here on the blog.
More good stuff. It seems the Chairman of the Southern California Motorcycle Association, my new good buddy Gonzo, is a big fan of the ExhaustNotes.us site. We had a nice conversation yesterday, and Gonzo told me he particularly liked our story on the Jack Daniel’s visit (so much so they are running it in their newsletter this month) and our first intro piece on the 2005 Three Flags Classic.
One thing led to another…I’ve been invited to the 2019 Three Flags Classic (boy oh boy, I’m really thinking about that one), and I became an SCMA member. You should be, too, even if you’re not living here in the Southland because SCMA’s events are international in reach. You can join right here.
And one last thing: Want to win a free copy of one of our moto adventure books? You can get in on the drawing if you sign up for automatic email blog updates (the widget is in the upper right corner if you’re on a laptop, and below this article if you read the blog on a phone). We’ll never share your email with anyone else!
Every once in a while there’s a YouTube that just screams out to be included on the ExNotes blog. This is one such video. Enjoy, folks!
Hey, there’s just 9 more days to enter our free moto adventure book drawing. All you need to do is add your email address to the list for automatic email updates, and you’re in. We’ll pick a winner and announce the results on New Year’s Day!
The fog nestled so close to the ground made it appear as though I was looking at a forest of cacti poking their heads through the clouds. For some unknown reason, I took that as an omen of good things to come. I passed one truck on that 40 mile stretch to the main highway.
I wasn’t yet familiar with my CSC TT250, but I had read reviews of 65 mpg, and since I didn’t yet know what 3/4 full meant on my bike, I decided to press on, optimistic that I would find gas somewhere on the way.
As I continued north, I noticed my gas gauge reaching 1/2 full at Chapala. I still had 63 miles to go to Catavina, which was the only place that I thought may have gas. Hoping that the gauge accuracy was a bit on the conservative side, I continued on. Running the numbers in my head, I concluded that I should make it to Catavina, even if my actual fuel level was a little less than indicated. However, if Catavina didn’t have gas, then I was going to either have to stay there until I could find someone passing through with extra gas, or try to locate a rancho that might have a couple of gallons to spare. Fortunately, in Catavina I came across a small sign stuck in the dirt on the left side of the highway that said Pemex. The arrow pointed to the right side of the road, and as my eyes scanned the opposite side of the highway, I saw a pickup truck with a couple of 55 gal drums and a few one gallon plastic containers. By this time I had travelled about half the distance to San Quintin, and although my low fuel light was already flashing, I still had not gone on reserve
I figured the price would be astronomical, but that was ok since I would only need a couple of gallons. Surprisingly, it was only $1 per gallon higher than the Pemex station where I had filled up in my town the day before. Confident that I could now make it the rest of the way to San Quintin, I pressed on north, maintaining between 60 and 65 mph indicated.
The desert continued to get greener as I closed in on the town of El Rosario where Mama Espinoza’s famous restaurant is located. I passed by knowing that I had a meal waiting for me in less than an hour at Jardine’s. Traffic remained consistent through the remainder of my trip, and I reached my destination at 11 a.m.
I pulled into the empty parking lot of the restaurant, dismounted, and approached the door. It was locked. Fortunately the hours were posted. Another hour before they opened. That wasn’t good. If I waited around until they opened, got seated and served, I wouldn’t get back on the road until after 1 p.m. That would make it difficult to make it home before dark. Hmmm! Better check the hotel. I had heard the rates were good, but I was pleasantly surprised that a single room was only $31. A two bedroom-suite was a bit steeper at $45. It didn’t take me long to decide to take advantage of one of the perks of retirement – unscheduled time. I quickly pulled out my wallet, checked in, walked around the grounds for a few minutes, and then waited outside the restaurant until they opened.
It was fantastic. I was seriously glad that I decided to stay. I kept occupied throughout the day by reading my kindle and talking to Anna, the hotel manager that day. She had spent several years in Wichita, KS, so she spoke English quite well. That night I paid a whopping $4.00 for some Fish and Chips. Another great meal.
Hard to believe; for less than $100 I had a wonderful two days of riding, great food, a good night’s sleep and not one stop light. I feel truly blessed.
