…to go for a motorcycle ride. On the other hand, I’m always finding reasons not to go to the gym. But I think I found a solution. Lately, I’ve been riding the Enfield to the gym. I’m more interested in getting on the motorcycle than I am in going to the gym, but if I ride the Enfield to the gym…well, you get the idea.
My Enfield at the gym.
There are usually two or three other guys who ride to the gym. Two have Harleys, another guy has a new Guzzi, and there’s even a Yamaha V-Max parked there on occasion. I’ve spoken with a few of those guys, and like me, they’re not spring chickens. I think they’re younger than me, but I suspect we’re all qualified for the Silver Sneakers subsidy. We’re old and we’re all trying to stay young. Such is the way of the world. The motorcycles help.
A Guzzi at the gym.These things are wicked fast.
We’re lucky here in California; we can ride pretty much year round. I’m at about 1700 feet above sea level, right at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains, and even in the winter months it’s usually in the high 60s or low 70s during the day. That’s perfect riding weather. It can get cold at night, but who rides at night?
Well, I guess I do, sometimes. Always by myself, and if it’s a night ride, it’s always short. There’s something about a late night ride that’s simultaneously invigorating and relaxing. The last few nights, it’s been warm enough. Everything seems more focused on a motorcycle at night. I hear the engine more clearly, and I see what the Enfield’s headlight wants me to see. I love the Enfield’s instrumentation, especially at night. It’s a simple two cup cluster…a tach and a speedometer. Just like my Triumphs were in the 1960s and 1970s. I really don’t need anything more. I rode a new motorcycle for one of the manufacturers a couple of weeks ago and the instrument cluster was way too complex. It had a brilliant TFT display and computer game graphics, but overall it was distracting and actually took away from the riding experience. Just a tach and speedo is all I need or want. Even the tach is kind of silly (I never use a tach to shift). But it looks, you know, balanced with the matching speedometer.
Cute, but a bit much and a bit distracting. Way more than I want in an instrument panel.
When I lived in Fort Worth about 50 years ago, I rode a Harley Electra Glide. All that motorcycle had for instrumentation was a speedometer and I never felt an info deficit. Late night solo rides were my favorite rides. Fort Worth summers were brutal (well over 100 degrees during the day and very humid). At night it would drop into the high 90s (still with tons of humidity), but it felt way cooler. Sometimes I’d stop for a cup of coffee at a 24-hour donut shop on Camp Bowie Boulevard. Sometimes I’d just ride, heading west toward Weatherford and the great beyond (once you pass Weatherford, there’s pretty much nothing until you reach Midland/Odessa). One time I realized it was time to go home when I saw the sun coming up.
Back to the Enfield: It’s a much better motorcycle than the Electra Glide ever was and it’s a hoot to ride. Circling back to my opening line, riding to the gym makes for a good excuse to get on the bike. Not that anyone ever needed an excuse to go for a motorcycle ride. But it defeats the excuses I make for myself when I don’t feel like going to the gym.
With Mai Chau being in our rear view mirrors, we just had one challenge left to overcome as riders in Vietnam: The chaotic traffic in the massive capital city of Hanoi. This was something we were both mentally prepared for and we had watched videos to somewhat provide us an idea on what to expect, but it would take more than me honking my little pink horn to navigate through this massive Asian city. As we rolled down the CT08 Highway into Hanoi the road didn’t seem too hectic, although I bounced off a car once or twice due to the limited real estate on the road.
Exiting the highway and entering surface streets the traffic increased exponentially, and we were separated several times. This was exactly why we had brought the Sena headsets, whereas in America we would never have even thought of using these devices. The road was about four American lanes wide, but it was easily fitting 8 to 12 vehicles on average. The vehicles ranged from Terminators, to cars, to little motos like ours, and everyone was cutting in and out constantly.
Another valuable driving lesson we learned was don’t drive defensively, but instead drive with purpose and intent. In doing so you will fit into the chaos and become part of the herd. Any second guessing yourself, braking, or quick acceleration will cause a ripple effect. That action will initiate others to stutter step and will most likely result in an accident; this was something we would rather avoid. Having mounts for our phones was another tip that proved invaluable. We could simply set our directions into it and place the phone in airplane mode to preserve the battery. Google Maps would remain on and guide us through these crowded streets filled with threats and obstacles.
Even with the GPS reliably guiding us through the madness we were rerouted several times due to the amount of traffic, getting split up, or having to focus on the many distractions that came in every form from every angle. Negotiating the rotaries was like entering a swarm of bees and trying to fit into our own little pocket without disrupting thousands of others that were searching for the same sanctuary in the lunacy. Upon arriving safely at our rental moto return point, we dismounted from our reliable steeds. They had been our life preservers over the past three weeks and 1,000+ miles through the concrete and plant jungles of this magnificent country.
Reflections
This journey through Vietnam, as with most journeys, was challenging mentally, physically, and especially emotionally. Vietnam reassured our feelings that the division between cultures and former enemies can be cured. Time provides a buffer between the anger and hatred and former times. One given about traveling is at times it can appear as though you go backward or forward in time. At that moment when Bobbie held the lady’s head and helped her in her final moments that lesson took hold in me. Helping a North Vietnamese would have been considered treason 70 years ago, but now it was not only the right thing to do but it a welcome gesture. Hours after the accident and thinking through it gave me hope that the political division in our country will be repaired. We are one people and our minor differences are indeed that: Minor. We sometimes tend to focus on the differences when we should be focused on the similarities.
Take the Iwo Jima photo above. We were riding by and a lady waved us down. They were planting a tree and were stuck, so I ran over without even taking off my helmet as it started to fall. We fixed it. A tree grows in Vietnam, and we helped.
I hope all of you reading this series enjoyed the read and were able to take something positive away from our experiences in Vietnam. I appreciate your support and you reading my writing. Thank you and be safe.
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Today I took the Model 60 to the range. All shooting was at the standard full size B21 police target and the distance 7 yards. I shot double action as fast as I could to see if I could keep them on the target. I did, as you’ll see below.
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The first load was with the 158 grain Hursman cast bullet (a truncated conical bullet with a flat point) and 2.7 grains of Bullseye. I loaded this ammo on my Star reloader with the bullet seater backed out to account for the longer 158 grain bullet. The Star did a nice job on these cartridges.
Here’s 50 rounds, shooting double action rapid fire (really rapid fire, as fast as I could while still hanging on to the front sight).
I was pleased with that target and the load. The load was light and easy to shoot. The Star can’t easily be adjusted for powder charge and I have it set up for wadcutter ammo, so all I changed was the bullet seating die. I didn’t even adjust the crimp; I just backed out the seater.
Next up was the same bullet (the 158 grain Hursman cast bullet), loaded with 5.4 grains of Accurate No. 5. I loaded this with the single stage RCBS Rockchucker.
The load was noticeably hotter than the first load, but not so much that it became unmanageable. Here’s 50 rounds of the above ammo on the B21. The brown areas that appear to be bullet holes are not holes on this target; that’s the sun shining through previous holes behind the target.
One shot went out of the 5X ring at 11:00. Eh, you can’t win them all. The guy in that target wouldn’t know the difference.
Then I shot another 50 rounds, this time wadcutter ammo. This was with the Gardner 148 grain powder coated double ended wadcutter bullet and 2.7 grains of Bullseye. I loaded this ammo on the Star.
These had three shots out of the x-ring, but I was really flying, doing my best to imitiate Ed McGivern. You know, you can make a double action revolver cycle faster than a semi-auto pistol. Ed McGivern could, anyway.
I had a good day at the West End Gun Club, but that’s stating the obvious. I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad day at the West End Gun Club, and I’ve been going there for close to 40 years. Here are the take-aways from today’s range session:
I found it was easy to shoot really, really fast with the Model 60 and still keep all shots on the target.
At this distance, all of the loads grouped about the same. I’d have to go out to 50 feet, I think, to see an accuracy difference.
The one most pleasant to shoot was the 158 grain Hursman bullet with 2.7 grains of Bullseye, and at this distance, it was accurate. It’s a nice load. That load had less recoil than the same load with the 148 grain wadcutter bullet. I think that’s because the 148 grain wadcutter bullet has more bearing area so the pressure is probably higher. After returning from the range, I loaded the remainder of my Hursman cast bullets with this load.
The gun shoots to point of aim with all three loads.
The Model 60 is a wonderful handgun and shooting a snubnose .38 is fun. The keyboard commandos can wax eloquent about the need for 20-round magazines in the latest Wunder 9; five shots from a Model 60 does it for me.
As if the day weren’t perfect enough, someone left 250+ pieces of once-fired 9mm brass on the range. I ordinarily would not use range brass and Lord knows I have plenty of 9mm cases, but this was pristine stuff and I could see that it had never been reloaded. It’s in my blood, I guess; I can’t leave good brass laying on the ground (it was in my tumbler 10 minutes after I got home).
There are three outfits that I recommend you consider if you’re reloading .38 ammo and if you want your handgun to perform well. The first is TJ’s Custom Gunworks. TJ did the action job and polishing on my Model 60, and his work is beyond stellar. The next is Lance Shively’s TriggerShims.com. If you want to assure your cylinder gap is what it’s supposed to be to assure smooth cycling and minimize misfires, Lance’s shims will do the trick and they are inexpensive. The next is Lee Precision reloading gear. I am migrating to near-complete use of Lee equipment, and I used a Lee Deluxe 4-die set when loading the .38 ammo on a single stage press. I recently acquired a Lee four turret press as part of a Lee Precision package deal. I’ve always been completely satisfied with the gear I’m using from Lee. Watch for a near-term blog on the four turret press kit. I’m eager to get it into service, and when I do, you’ll read about it here.
Two more things: Here’s a link for the B21 targets you see above (they’re different and they’re fun to shoot). And, I frequently get compliments on the Altamont grips my Model 60 wears. They make the gun much more comfortable to shoot and they don’t print if you’re carrying concealed. If you want a set of Altamont grips, a good place to get them is on Amazon.
There are a couple styles of these Chinese heaters. I bought the all-in-one, suitcase version. My Chinese heater came mostly assembled and all I had to do was rig up the included exhaust pipe, air intake, output duct, and connect a 12-volt battery. If you’re going to install the heater in a van I think the version broken into separate parts would be a better choice. In fact, maybe it’s the better choice regardless.
My suitcase Chinese heater works okay but you can smell diesel fuel even when it’s not operating because the fuel tank cap is vented. It’s not a strong smell and my shed is pretty drafty. If my shed was sealed tighter the fumes would be more noticeable. The heat output has no diesel smell but it has some sort of odor I can’t quite place, maybe it’s the plastic housing covering the heater cooking off or it could be the smell of air on hot aluminum. Anyway, it’s not an objectionable smell and I remain fully conscious when the heater is running.
Installation was a breeze and only took about 30 minutes. I mounted the unit on two recycled pieces of 2×6 form wood to get the exhaust pipe high enough to go over the shed sill and punched a 1-inch hole in the shed wall for the combustion gas exhaust.
For the combustion air intake I simply strapped the air filter to the side of the heater with a tie wrap. I was kind of excited to see if the Chinese heater would actually heat so I hung the output pipe in mid-air and connected a 12-volt lawn mower battery for power.
My unit came with the cheapest controller available and maybe that’s because I bought the cheapest available heater. I can’t say. The poorly written installation manual gave a “5-push on the unit’s start-stop button while holding the remote control button down” type of pairing instruction. After a few tries I was surprised that the remote control linked up with the heater and could turn the machine on and off. In Chinese Heater: Part 1 I mused about replacing the control with a fancier unit but after seeing the el cheapo in action I’ll just stay with it until it breaks.
These Chinese heaters follow an automated start up process. First the blower comes on at slow speed, then the glow plug (or igniter) starts heating a small metal screen in the combustion chamber. Next, the fuel pump starts pulsing to supply fuel to the combustion chamber. A few minutes after pushing the on button you’ll hear the fuel ignite with a muffled roar and the blower will pick up speed. In the final step the glow plug turns off and the unit burns the diesel fuel from the red hot metal screen. If anything goes wrong with the startup the heater will try again. You really get an amazing amount of technology for 120 bucks.
Of the ten times I’ve started it my machine failed to launch once, but on the next try it was ok. The heater puts out a fairly good stream of heat and in a smaller space it would work well. Unfortunately, my large, steel shed has zero insulation and gaping holes everywhere so the unit had to be run flat out to effect any change in the shed temperature.
It took about 30 minutes to raise the shed temp from 42 degrees to 48 degrees and that was about as warm as it got. That’s still better than no heat at all. I think if I had three more Chinese heaters I could get it nice and warm inside.
Shutting down the Chinese heater takes about 5 minutes as the blower keeps running until the combustion chamber cools down. Shutdown is also fully automated and all you have to do is press the power button until the remote displays off and then wait. It’s probably not a good idea to cut 12-volt power to the unit during shutdown, as the plastic heater housing would probably not like that.
One of the reasons I recommend the break-down version is that you are free to mount the fuel tank outside. In fact, you could mount the entire unit outside and poke two holes for a return air and hot air registers. Mount the control panel on the wall and you don’t even have to go outside to turn the little beast on. Outside installation would eliminate any diesel odors, as you would have only warm air pumping into your shed. The entire combustion cycle would be on the other side of the wall, free to stink up the planet.
Noise is another concern that favors outside installation. My Chinese heater made a bit of noise. You hear the burning process, it sounds like a furnace kicking in but quieter and the blower makes normal blower noises depending on what power level the machine is operating. The fuel pump has a slight ticking noise that isn’t noticeable at high power/high blower speed. As you turn down the heat output the blower gets much quieter and the pump ticking becomes more noticeable. None of this matters in my situation because it’s a shed and I run the heater at full power all the time. The heater isn’t so loud that you can’t carry on a conversation standing next to it.
Once I was sure I was going to keep the little heater I bent a piece of sheet metal to hold the ductwork. Without a brace the hose kind of wiggled around, describing a figure eight in space.
As a test, I marked the fuel level of the see through tank and added 1 quart of diesel fuel. The heater ran over two hours at full power on that quart. Of course if you turned it down like you would in a van or RV it would burn even less fuel. 1.7hz was the lowest power setting, meaning the fuel pump cycled 1.7 times per second. 5.5hz was the highest setting. I’m not sure it works like this but if 5.5hz burns a quart every two hours then a setting somewhere south of 3hz should double your fuel mileage and halve your heat output.
Since the shed is off-grid and runs on solar power I have tons of 12-volt DC power available. There are 12 deep cycle batteries on a rack outside the building and a 12-volt breaker panel but I don’t have any conduit to where the heater is located. These heater units use a good bit of DC power when first starting, maybe 8 amps or so. Once the glow plug shuts off the unit runs on the red-hot screen that surrounds the glow plug, kind of like an old Cox .049 model airplane engine. With only the blower running my 2-amp trickle charger kept up with the demand. If you are using the heater in a van make sure you don’t drain your battery running the heater.
I’ve ordered a temporary, 15-amp, 12-volt power supply to run the heater off 120VAC. Eventually I will get around to connecting the heater to my battery bank. There is a drop of around 1-volt between what the remote display says is available at the heater and the actual battery voltage measured at the battery terminals. I might run some heavier wires to the heater control board. Most likely I won’t worry about the voltage drop because I just like saying voltage drop.
From my online research the only parts that go wrong with these Chinese heaters are glow plug failures and blower motor bearings. These problems don’t seem to crop up until a few years have passed. Parts are available and cheap for the heater so it should last a good long time with regular service. After a few years of running dirty fuel oil the combustion chamber may soot up requiring a clean out. Again, the gasket kits needed for this procedure are easy to find online. There’s a vibrant Chinese heater community on the Internet. It’s like owning a CSC RX3 adventure motorcycle.
The heater works and it produces heat, which is all it promised to do. My unit is rated at 8kw, which works out to 27,000 BTUs. I’ll still need to wear a jacket in the winter. Future modifications may be to relocate the combustion air intake to the outside so I don’t suck my hard-earned, heated shed-air into the combustion chamber and out the exhaust. Maybe I’ll move the whole magilla outside. A carbon monoxide alarm in the shed wouldn’t hurt either. I think if your shed is maybe 20 X 20 feet and well insulated the Chinese heater would work well. If you are into the Van Life thing a Chinese heater could be just the ticket to stay warm without running the van engine.
In the future I’m going to try recycling my used motor oil at 25% used oil to 75% diesel. I have a lot of old motor oil and I might as well use it to heat instead of pouring it into the Autolube tank on my Yamaha like my buddy Hunter does. If you decide to get one of these heaters let us know how it works for you.
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Exposure is one of the greatest thrills when traveling by motorcycle. You feel every drop of rain and every cold or warm front you move through, experiencing each second by second. There is no better way to experience the present, except for maybe exiting an aircraft in flight. Being a motorcyclist and embracing that exposure allows the most beautiful moments. During these moments I sometimes close my eyes for an instant to ensure my mind has a vivid snapshot that can be stored deep within and recalled for the rest of my life. With this beauty at times there comes a price, though, and at times that price can be death.
We were almost wrapping up our journey, having decided not to ride to the Vietnamese North Pole due to time constraints caused by our meandering travels. Instead, I chose local mountain roads I found while planning our trip. This made for relaxed riding and and easy return to our Home Stay in Mai Chau. The roads were incredible, some just dirt half covered by avalanches that barely allowed scooting the little 150cc motorcycles through. Every so often we would enter a village where pigs and water buffalo blocked the roads as children came out to honk the horn prominently taped to my handlebars.
After returning to the main road, just a few mountain passes away from Mai Chau, we decided to break for lunch. There were older locals drinking what looked like a Vietnamese vodka. Being ever curious about local drinks I attempted to order a bottle (or two) to go. This took more than a few minutes. Vietnam has so many dialects that many revert to English as the communication platform, but not here. It took about five minutes and included several charades imitating the drunken locals we had just seen to obtain the right beverage. No question about it: My performance would be the talk of that local watering hole for some time.
As I loaded the vodka bottles carefully into the plastic side panniers, we synced up the headsets and fired up the motos. The narrow two-lane highway was stunning. There were beautiful mountain views and sheer cliffs to our right where we could overlook the vistas and still see lingering fog far below us in a mystical valley. Traffic was light that day, but we were alert for Terminators (oncoming trucks barreling around blind corners) and we were still cautious.
Suddenly, a female with a pink Hello Kitty plastic helmet zinged by me on her scooter. I waved to her as we do to all riders and glanced again to look at the mountain views. I took a deep breath as I knew this would be one of those snapshot moments I wanted to remember forever. I didn’t realize how right I was. In the very next moment, a Terminator was barreling directly at me in my lane, and I had no escape with the cliff on my right. Before I could react to anything I heard plastic crunching and witnessed a body fly into the air 50 meters in front of me. The entire world stopped for a moment as the crescendo of a full orchestra built and screamed in my head. Then it suddenly stopped and the silence became the quiet sound of a gentle wind.
“Rider down!!” I screamed into the headset to Bobbie. I parked the bike and ran over. The female rider was still breathing, but there was nothing that could be done. With traffic stopped I knew that on these mountain roads this scene would just get worse. I attempted to tell the driver to call 911 knowing that most of these countries don’t have emergency services, but also knowing he wouldn’t need to read my charades to know what action to take. I flipped my moto around and drove up a quarter mile to meet Bobbie, and I explained that I would pull road guard detail and for her to go to the accident scene.
Road guard duty was not an easy task on that foggy mountain highway in Vietnam. I remembered I had downloaded the Google Translator after being pulled over and quickly looked up “Stop bad accident ahead,” but even with using Google Translator the trucks continued to ignore me to the point they were jeopardizing Bobbie and others at the scene. They continued to speed toward the horrific situation ahead. Some vehicles were even going off the road to the left to avoid the accident or the cliffs after ignoring my warnings.
Still wearing my helmet and headset I shouted several times to Bobbie that there was an incoming vehicle but to no avail. She was doing what she could to assist the downed female rider, and she didn’t have her helmet on. With no other option I physically walked into the middle of the road using myself as a barrier to force each vehicle to stop (I hoped). I wanted them to realize the accident they were about to encounter. This action ultimately worked and the threat of new vehicles incoming to the accident site stopped.
Sometime between 45 minutes and a lifetime later authorities arrived on the scene, but only in the form of a traffic officer on the back of a civilian moped. At this juncture it was time for us to depart. There was nothing else we could do, the female rider had died, and it was time for us to leave. We slowly continued our ride down the pass and neither of us spoke for the remainder of the ride other than my continued warnings on the lowering mountain switchbacks into the fog of Mai Chau Valley. After 45 minutes of riding an ambulance passed us heading to the accident. Still not saying a word, we knew there was no rush for the ambulance at this point.
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Never miss an ExNotes blog:
If you missed earlier installments of the Vietnam ride, here they are:
Lee’s Classic Turret Press Kit includes their Modern Reloading manual. It’s written by the late Richard Lee (the founder of Lee Precision), it’s the second edition, and Lee’s retail price is $40.98. By way of comparison, on Hornady’s site their reloading manual is $59.99, on Sierra’s site their reloading manual is $39.99, on the Lyman site their reloading manual is $34.98, and on the Speer site you get the load data for free (it’s published on their site). You can also purchase the Lee manual on Amazon; oddly, the price on Amazon is higher than it is on the Lee website.
The Lee reloading manual is comparable in heft and contents to other big reloading manuals. It’s a hardcover book with 692 pages and several chapters on various reloading topics, including basic instructions and more in-depth discussions of advanced reloading topics. Richard Lee wrote the first parts covering various topics including the company’s history, Lee’s reloading equipment, primers and primer sensitivity (this was extremely interesting), how to reload, reloading for best accuracy, rifle reloading, handgun relaoding, measuring powder, powder safety, pressure issues, matching bullet metal to chamber pressure, hardness testing, bullet casting and sizing, shotgun reloading, and muzzle loading. I thoroughly enjoyed reading Lee’s articles. They are written in a folksy, technical, and easy to follow manner. It’s like having a conversation with one of my shooting buddies. That, all by itself, is a good reason to buy the Lee reloading manual.
A load table inside the Lee reloading manual showing some of the date it contains that other reloading manuals do not. This includes the starting charge volume, the Lee dipper number, the Lee Auto-Disk number, and the 1 Grain Factors.
The load data tables start on Page 161 and continue to Page 686 (the load tables comprise most of the book). These are interesting and they include several bits of data not found in other reloading manuals. There’s the usual dimensioned cartridge drawings, starting load and max loads, the pressure, and the velocities, and then there’s more. These additional pieces of information not usually found in other reloading manuals are:
Useful Case Capacity. On each of the load table cartridge drawings, Lee includes the useful case volume in cubic centimeters. Why this is useful will be apparent when you read the next bulleted statement.
Volume cc. This table entry, immediately to the right of the starting load, shows the volume occupied by the starting charge. You can compare this to the useful case capacity info (see above) included in the cartridge drawing to get an idea of how full the cartridge case will be at the starting charge. Usually, a cartridge will perform better if the case is full or nearly full. I’ve not seen this information in other reloading manuals. I think it’s a good thing to know when selecting which powder to use.
Lee Dipper. Lee manufactures different size powder dippers. The powder dipper is basically a yellow plastic spoon used to scoop a known volume of powder. Some reloaders use this approach rather than using a powder dispenser or a scale, but others do. Dippers are included with Lee dies, and you can also buy a set of different sized dippers separately. It’s not the powder measurement and dispensing approach I used, but I found the data interesting. I’ve never seen this data in other load manuals.
Auto-Disk. Lee makes an Auto-Disk Powder Measure. It’s a device that uses a sliding disk with different volume chambers (or cavities) in it to control the volume of powder dispensed by their Auto-Disk Powder Measure. These cavities are denoted by decimal numbers. The Lee reloading manual tables identify the appropriate Auto-Disk to use with charges included in the table. I’ve never seen this data in other manuals.
1 Grain Factor. This is another bit of data not included in any other reloading manual I’ve ever seen. The 1 Grain Factor can be used to show velocity reduction if the maximum powder charge is decreased by one grain. You take the maximum velocity, multiply it by the 1 Grain Factor, and it will show the decrease in velocity that will be realized by reducing the powder charge 1 grain. There’s a similar 1 Grain Factor included that can be used to calculate pressure reduction for a 1 grain powder reduction The 1 Grain Factors are not included for every cartridge (they are included for the hotter magnum cartridges such as .44 Magnum and 7mm Remington Magnum).
A Lee dipper included with a set of Lee reloading dies. The dipper is a powder scoop. You can also buy the dippers separately.An earlier Lee Auto-Disk Powder dispenser. This powder dispensing approach used disks (see lower arrow) installed in the dispenser (see upper arrow). The disks contained different cavities that dispensed different powder volumes.A Lee Auto-Disk powder disk, as seen from below. The cylindrical openings collect different volumes of powder from the Auto-Disk hopper. Selecting different openings will dispense different charges.Lee Auto-Disk powder disk as seen from above. The volume designator for each cavity is identified on the disk top. The Lee reloading manual shows which opening to use for a selected powder charge. No other reloading manual contains this information.
The Lee manual breaks with typical reloading manuals on the order in which loads are shown. In other manuals, the cartridge sequence is organized by bullet diameter, and then within each bullet diameter category, by cartridge maximum velocity. There is a table of contents in the Lee manual (it’s on Pages 159-160) showing all the cartridges included in the Lee manual and where their load data appears.
If you are a reloader who enjoys getting into the more technical aspects of load development (and what reloader isn’t?) I believe you will thoroughly enjoy Lee’s Modern Reloading. I think it’s a first-class work as good as or better than the manuals from Lyman, Sierra, Hornady, and other reloading manual publishers. It’s money well spent, and when you purchase Lee’s Classic Turret Press Kit, you basically get it for free.
I didn’t start out working for Mr. Bray. He was a deep red construction foreman who had been baking in the Florida sun all his life. His nose looked like Bob Hope’s except God had pressed his thumb into Mr. Bray’s right nostril and kind of smooshed the thing to the side. Mr. Bray ran projects all around Miami. I was a laborer helping my dad who was an equipment operator. The main job of labor for an equipment operator is to never let the operator get off the machine. Anything that needed to be done in order to keep him in his seat was my responsibility.
Mr. Bray had hired my dad to do the earthwork on a shopping center he was building in North Miami. I was a hard worker because I wanted to make some seed money and go back to California. I was taking growth hormones and steroids at the time. It was all I could do not to tear the footings out of the ground with my bare hands. The meds were prescription: Starting with a 5-foot tall, 98-pound body the pills added 6 inches in height and 27 pounds in acne over 3 years. I had abundance of energy, man. I tore around the construction site like a banshee. Mr. Bray liked a hard worker, drug-induced or not, so he hired me away from my dad just by offering twice the money.
The job was Union, which meant I had to join one. Mr. Bray had connections at the carpenter’s local so he arraigned for my union card. This was a big deal because normally you’d have to wait in line to join and then you’d have to wait in line until the Union sent you out on a job. It might take several years to clear the backlog. I was a First Period Apprentice without missing a paycheck.
When I got that paycheck it was a disappointment. The Union dues sapped a lot, then the federal and state deductions sapped some more. My dad paid cash, you know? I ended up making less money than before. Mr. Bray had pulled strings to get me in but I showed him my pay stub anyway. “That’s not so good, is it?” Mr. Bray said. I told him that it wasn’t but that I would carry on. I mean I had taken the deal; I felt obligated. “Lemme see what I can do about it,” Mr. Bray told me.
The next paycheck I received my rating was Third Period Apprentice (equivalent to 1-1/2 years of experience and passing several written tests) and I was making 8 dollars an hour. This was more money than I had ever made in my lifetime. From then on my loyalties were clear. I was Mr. Bray’s boy. If he needed a body buried on the site I would do it faster and better than anyone else.
Mr. Bray’s crew consisted of a journeyman carpenter, a mid-level carpenter, a laborer and me. In practice, we weren’t tied to a trade. I might have to do a little wiring, relocate pipe or dig a foundation. We formed all the foundations, then the steel workers would tie the steel and we would pour the concrete. These were non-cosmetic jobs. For slabs we hired a crew of finishers.
It didn’t set well with the other guys when Mr. Bray made me the foreman the few times he had to go off site. I only had like two months of construction experience but had absorbed a lot more knowledge just by being around my dad. The journeyman carpenter got sulky taking orders from a third period apprentice.
I have never been a leader of men. My approach to management is to tell everyone to stay the hell out of my way and I’ll do it myself. Surprisingly it worked in this instance because these guys still had remnants of a conscience. We usually got more done when Mr. Bray was gone.
Mr. Bray used my size to motivate the crew. Whenever there was something heavy to move the guys would bitch and want a crane. “Gresh, put that plank on the roof.” That was all I needed to hear. I was a greyhound shot out of a gate. I’d shoulder the 10-inch wide, 20-footer, run full tilt at the building, spear the end of the board into the ground like a pole vaulter and walk the board vertical onto the wall. While the rest of the crew shook their heads in pity I’d run up the ladder and grab the board, hand-over-handing the thing until I could rest it onto my shoulder. Putting the wood onto the roof took about 45 seconds.
The whole thing had a creepy, Cool-Hand-Luke-when-he-was-acting-broken vibe but I wasn’t acting. It was more an act of unreasonable anger. I wanted to get stuff done. It was all that mattered to me. Mr. Bray would turn to the guys and say “Look at Gresh, he did it easy. You don’t need a crane. Now put the rest of those damn boards up there.” Picturing the guys pole-vaulting the boards up one by one I’ll never understand why they didn’t beat the crap out of me when Mr. Bray turned his back.
Another Union trade on a construction job are the bricklayers. They would put up walls on the foundations we poured. The floors were left dirt to allow new tenants to choose the interior layout. After they put up the walls we would tie the steel and form the gaps between sections of wall then pour them full of concrete. The poured columns made a sturdy wall. Unfortunately, being only 8 inches wide, the wall is very fragile until the concrete columns are in.
Mr. Bray was always looking for ways to save the company money and as my dad’s equipment was still on site he would have me do small operator jobs rather than have my dad drive to the site and charge him. We needed a trench for something, I can’t remember what but since we only had a 14-inch bucket it didn’t matter. I was digging inches away from a wall with the backhoe at 45 degrees to allow the bucket to dump the spoil. I could only put one outrigger down because the wall was too close. The whole setup was wobbly and when a return swing ran a bit wide the boom tapped the wall. Not hard, it didn’t even chip the blocks.
It happened so slowly. The wall teetered. I pulled the boom away. I was wishing it to settle down. The wall tottered. More thoughts and prayers were directed at the wall. Slowly the wall went over and smashed into pieces. After checking to see that I didn’t kill anyone I went to Mr. Bray. “Um…we have a problem, Mr. Bray.”
He was marking stuff on his critical path chart. “What is it, Gresh?”
“You better come take a look.”
We walked over to the crushed wall. I explained everything like I just did. Mr. Bray was fighting some inner demons for sure. Finally his face relaxed and he said, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll tell the bricklayers the wind blew it over.” Man, I loved that guy.
From my dad I learned a perfectionism that I have rarely been able to equal. From Mr. Bray I learned that perfection is a great goal but the job needs to get done because another trade is waiting on you. Mr. Bray would let a lot of things slide that my dad would obsess over. Working for Mr. Bray was much less stressful and customers inside the finished shoe store could not tell the difference.
The shopping center was nearly done. I had worked for Mr. Bray 6 months. I had a couple thousand dollars saved and told him I was going back to California. “Why don’t you stay on? I’ll train you in construction management, you’ll be a journeyman carpenter in 5 years and you’ll be running jobs like this.”
Mr. Bray was offering me his most valuable gift. He was offering me everything he had: To pass his lifetime of knowledge on to me. I had to go back to California though and I left feeling like I had let Mr. Bray down in the end. And even today I’m not settled. I’m still trying to finish the damn job.
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It’s starting to get a little cold here at Tinfiny Ranch. Our nights drop to the mid 20’s and the sunny days top out somewhere in the mid 50’s. That’s not very cold compared to the northern states but it’s still cold enough to make working in the shed less than comfortable. Part of the problem is the shed itself: Made of thin sheet metal with zero insulation, the inside of the shed tends to mirror the outside temperature within a few degrees. Before you tell me to insulate the shed know that it costs nearly as much as the shed to insulate the thing and that I am thrifty.
I suffer in the cold of winter and in the heat of summer. Summer isn’t as bad because I can open the four big roll-up doors and get some air moving through the building. Winter is harder to deal with so I bought one of those Chinese diesel heaters that you’ve read about in all the larger heater-centric publications like “Chinese Heater Digest” or “Hot Asians!” magazines. I took the plunge into oil burning and am here to tell you about it.
Chinese diesel heaters have a huge YouTube community. There are hundreds of videos describing installation, modification, how to burn waste oil, hydraulic oil and any other type of oil. The phrase “Chinese heater” encompasses dozens of factories producing hundreds of Webasco and Espar clones. The price difference is incredible: A real Webasco 2000-watt diesel heater will cost around $1300 while I picked up the 8kw Vevor clone version for $119 with shipping included. You have to really dislike China to pay $1200 more for essentially the same item. The build quality is slightly better on the brand name units but functionally they are the same. You can find comparison videos on YouTube if you are interested in the minor differences.
Normally I buy a lot of junk from Amazon. I know I shouldn’t because Bezos has all the money and maybe it would be better if we spread it around a bit. For the Chinese heater purchase I decided to try EBay and give a different multi-billionaire my money. Unfortunately, the ultra low price I paid blinded me to some important control module downgrades. Anyway, Bezos gave Dolly Parton 100 million dollars for her charity work so he’s back in my good graces.
My EBay heater came securely packed with only minor damage to one of the mounting flanges. Everything you need for installation was included except for two triple A batteries for the remote control and diesel fuel for the tank.
The instruction manual’s translation was in the style of a 1960’s Japanese motorcycle owner’s manual and if anything was even more cryptic. I found it easier to watch several YouTube videos as the manual was nearly useless.
The cheaper, cheap Vevor Chinese version I bought came with the simplest control. A large push button turned the heater on and off. A remote control allows for changing power output by speeding up or slowing down the fuel pump (measured in pump-cycle hz). The startup and shutdown sequence is fully automated and several steps long. This is where I wish I had the better control panel as it shows each step of the process. I am kind of in the dark with the controller supplied. I’m never sure what the thing is doing or where in the sequence we are. It costs $30 for the good controller, negating any money I saved getting the cheaper, cheap Chinese model. I should have bitten the bullet and bought this one from Amazon.
Like the good chair at your house, the good controller does everything better. It shows fan speed in RPM, glow plug status, combustion cycle, and displays any error codes in alphanumeric format instead of blinking lights. You can also prime the fuel pump a little easier with the good controller. The heater works exactly the same but you feel better about it.
You get a couple feet of exhaust tubing and a little muffler for the combustion gas exhaust. If you are installing the heater in a van or RV you’ll probably need a longer pipe.
For combustion air intake you get a coarse, plastic air filter that will stop large animals from climbing inside the air intake pipe. Also included are a duct pipe, a register, and a bunch of clamps, screws and small parts.
In Chinese Diesel Heat Part 2 we will assemble and install the diesel heater and see how it performs. Internet reviews on these heaters are all over the map. Some people say they are junk, some say they are equal to the expensive units. With the variations of quality coming out of various Chinese factories, both camps may be right. I’ve found any product that requires installation or mechanical ability to use seems to garner more negative reviews. I suspect some of those bad reviews are installer created problems.
This is a blog I wrote for CSC Motorcycles several years ago (time sure flies when you’re having fun). The topic was as timely then as it is today. I like big bikes, but I like small bikes more, and I’m convinced that a small bike makes way more sense than a big bike for real world adventure touring. I thought I would post the blog again, as we are having way too much fun with CSC, BMW, Janus, and other companies who have seen the light. Here’s the blog from way back.
A 250cc bike seems too small to many riders. Is it?
The 250cc CSC Cyclone.
The motorcycle craze in the US really started in the mid-1960s. I know motorcycling goes back way before that, but motorcycling was essentially a fringe endeavor until Honda came on the scene. We met the nicest people on Hondas, if you remember, and that ad tagline was a winner (so is “Don’t Miss The Boat,” by the way). (Note: “Don’t Miss The Boat” was CSC’s tagline for the US RX3 introduction, and those who didn’t miss the boat participated in one of the best deals in the history of motorcycling.)
Honda’s sales model was a good one. They pulled us in with small bikes and then convinced us we needed larger and larger bikes. Many of us started with a Honda Cub (the 50cc step-through), we progressed to the Super 90 (that was my jump in), then the 160cc baby Super Hawk, then the 305cc Super Hawk, and at that point in about 1967 that was it for Honda. They didn’t have anything bigger (yet). After the 305cc Super Hawk, the next step for most folks was either a Harley or a Triumph.
Yours Truly, on a Honda Super 90 in the mid-’60s.
You know, back in those days, a 650cc motorcycle was a BIG motorcycle. And it was.
But Honda kept on trucking…they offered a 450 that sort of flopped, and then in 1969 they delivered the CB-750. That bike was so far out in front of everyone else it killed the British motorcycle industry and (with a lot of self-inflicted wounds) it almost killed Harley.
The Japanese manufacturers piled on. Kawasaki one-upped Honda with a 900. (Another note…it’s one of those early Kawi 900s that Gobi Gresh is restoring in the Zed’s Not Dead series.) Honda came back with a 1000cc Gold Wing (which subsequently grew to 1100cc, then 1500cc, and is now an 1800cc). Triumph has a 2300cc road bike. Harley gave up on cubic centimeters and now describes their bikes with cubic inches. And on and on it went. It seems to keep on going. The bikes keep on getting bigger. And bigger. And bigger. And taller. And heavier. And bigger. In a society where everything was being supersized (burgers, bikes, and unfortunately, our beltlines), bigger bikes have ruled the roost for a long time. Too long, in my opinion.
Is this where it’s going? (Note: I shot this photo at the Long Beach International Motorcycle Show about 15 years ago.)
Weirdly, today many folks think of a 750 as a small bike. It’s a world gone nuts. But I digress…
I’ve done a lot of riding. Real riding. My bikes get used. A lot. I don’t much care for the idea of bikes as driveway jewelry, and on a lot of my rides in the US, Mexico, and Canada, I kind of realized that this “bigger is better” mentality is just flat wrong. It worked as a motorcycle marketing strategy for a while, but when you’re wrestling with a 700-lb bike in the soft stuff, you realize it doesn’t make any sense.
Really?
I’ve had some killer big bikes. A Triumph Daytona 1200. A Harley Softail. A TL1000S Suzuki. A Triumph Speed Triple (often called the Speed Cripple, which in my case sort of turned out to be true). All the while I was riding these monsters, I’d see guys on Gold Wings and other 2-liter leviathans and wonder…what are these folks thinking?
I’d always wanted a KLR-650 for a lot of reasons. The biggest reasons were the bikes were inexpensive back then and they were lighter than the armored vehicles I had been riding. I liked the idea of a bike I could travel on, take off road, and lift by myself if I dropped it. To make a long story short, I bought the KLR and I liked it. I still have it. But it’s tall, and it’s heavy (well over 500 lbs fully fueled). But it was a better deal than the bigger bikes for real world riding. Nobody buys a KLR to be a poser, nobody chromes out a KLR, and nobody buys leather fringe for a KLR, but if that’s what you want in a motorcycle, hey, more power to you.
More background…if you’ve been on this blog for more than 10 minutes you know I love riding in Baja. I talk about it all the time. My friends tell me I should be on the Baja Tourism Board. Whatever. It is some of the best riding in the world. I’ll get down there the first week I take delivery on my CSC Cyclone, and if you want to ride with me, you’re more than welcome. (Note: And I did. We did a lot of CSC Baja tours, and CSC introduced a lot of folks to riding and to Baja. That one innocent little sentence became a cornerstone of CSC’s marketing strategy.)
I was talking up Baja one day at the First Church of Bob (the BMW dealership where me and some of my buddies hang out on Saturday mornings). There I was, talking about the road to San Felipe through Tecate, when my good buddy Bob said “let’s do it.” Baja it was…the other guys were on their Harleys and uber-Beemers, and I was on my “small bore” KLR. The next weekend we pointed the bars south, wicked it up, and rode to San Felipe.
The Boys…bound for San Felipe with my KLR leading the pack
That was a fun trip. I took a lot of ribbing about the KLR, but the funny thing was I had no problem keeping up with the monster motos. In fact, most of the time, I was in the lead. And Bob? Well, he just kept studying the KLR. On Saturday night, he opened up a bit. Bob is the real deal…he rode the length of Baja before there was a road. That’s why he was enjoying this trip so much, and it’s why he was so interested in my smaller bike. In fact, he announced his intent to buy a smaller bike, which surprised everybody at the table.
Holding court on the Sea of Cortez. That’s Bob on the right.
Bob told us about a months-long moto trip he made to Alaska decades ago, and his dream about someday riding to Tierra del Fuego. That’s the southernmost tip of South America. He’d been to the Arctic Circle, and he wanted to be able to say that he’d been all the way south, too.
I thought all of this was incredibly interesting. Bob is usually a very quiet guy. He’s the best rider I’ve ever known, and I’ve watched him smoke Ricky Racers on the Angeles Crest Highway with what appeared to be no effort whatsoever. Sometimes he’d do it on a BMW trade-in police bike standing straight up on the pegs passing youngsters on Gixxers and Ducksters. Those kids had bikes with twice the horsepower and two-thirds the weight of Bob’s bike, and he could still out ride them. Awesome stuff. Anyway, Bob usually doesn’t talk much, but during dinner that night on the Sea of Cortez he was opening up about some of his epic rides. It was good stuff.
Finally, I asked: Bob, what bike would you use for a trip through South America?
Bob’s answer was immediate: A 250.
That surprised me, but only for an instant. I asked why and he told me, but I kind of knew the answer already. Bob’s take on why a 250: It’s light, it’s fast enough, it’s small enough that you can pick it up when it falls, you can change tires on it easily, you can take it off road, you can get across streams, and it gets good gas mileage.
Bob’s answer about a 250 really stuck in my mind. This guy knows more about motorcycles than I ever will, he is the best rider I’ve ever known, and he didn’t blink an eye before immediately answering that a 250 is the best bike for serious world travel.
It all made a lot of sense to me. I had ridden my liter-sized Triumph Tiger in Mexico, but when I took it off road the thing was terrifying. The bike weighed north of 600 lbs, it was way too tall, and I had nearly dropped it several times in soft sand. It was not fun. I remembered another ride with my friend Dave when he dropped his FJR in an ocean-sized puddle. It took three of us to get the thing upright, and we dropped it a couple of more times in our attempt to do so. John and I had taken my Harley and his Virago on some fun trips, but folks, those bikes made no sense at all for the kind of riding we did.
Upright in this photo, but it was like wrestling a pig in mud a few minutes earlier.
You might be wondering…what about the other so-called adventure bikes, like the BMW GS series, the Yamaha Tenere, or the Triumph Tiger? Good bikes, to be sure, but truth be told, they’re really street bikes dressed up like dirt bikes. Big street bikes dressed up like dirt bikes. Two things to keep in mind…seat height and weight. I can’t touch the ground when I get on a BMW GS, and as you’ve heard me say before, my days of spending $20K or $30K on a motorcycle are over. Nice bikes and super nice for freeway travel, but for around town or off road or long trips into unknown territory, these bikes are just too big, too heavy, and too tall.
There’s one other benefit to a small bike. Remember that stuff above about Honda’s 1960s marketing strategy? You know, starting on smaller bikes? Call me crazy, but when I get on bikes this size, I feel like a kid again. It’s fun.
I’ve thought about this long and hard. For my kind of riding, a 250 makes perfect sense. My invitation to you is to do the same kind of thinking.
So there you have it. That was the blog that helped to get the RX3 rolling, and CSC sold a lot of RX3 motorcycles. Back in the day, CSC was way out in front of everybody on the Internet publicizing the Zongshen 250cc ADV bikes, and other countries took notice. Colombia ordered several thousand RX3s based on what they saw CSC doing, other countries followed, and things just kept getting better and better. The central premise is still there, and it still makes sense. A 250 may well be the perfect motorcycle.
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We awoke in Khe Sanh and felt well rested, semi warmed up, and ready to ride the 270 kilometers to Phong Nha. Phong Nha is home to an elaborate cave system we planned to spend a few days exploring. As we rode it wasn’t long before the concrete jungle of Khe Sanh morphed into jungle. The road we chose was a narrow two way street for most the ride with no traffic. In fact, on one stretch we didn’t see another car for 100 kilometers. There was nothing but jungle encroaching onto the roads and waterfalls splattering off the pavement, creating little rainbows. As we whizzed past the rainbows their light patterns would change to create a magical view into the dense lush jungle that surrounded us. Although we never saw anyone along this section our rule of having an exit path never stopped in the rare event a Terminator would come barreling at us around a blind corner. Other than being alert for that possible occurrence this stretch of the Hoh Chi Minh Trail was a rider’s dream. It was so isolated and quiet outside the sounds of our motorbikes humming but even that sound was overtaken by the hungry jungle which ate everything it could, including sounds.
The mountain roads provided beautiful switchbacks. We saw patchy rain clouds below us eerily floating by before they were consumed by the jungle. This part of the Trail is so remote we filled up water bottles with gas to ensure our bikes wouldn’t go thirsty since there were no gas stations. Continuing up and down through mountain passes until the sunlight faded, we finally dropped into a beautiful green valley. Water buffalo wandered into our paths as the roads straightened and the jungles were replaced with open rice fields and farmers.
After a short bit we saw beautiful mountains so steep and high they were giant green anthills surrounding us. As we stopped to check and confirm our directions to our Home Stay, we heard Buddhist chanting echoing in the mountains. The chanting reverberated off the mountains and it was impossible to tell where it came from. It fully engulfed us to the point it was vibrating through our motorcycles and even our own bodies. It was incredible.
The beauty of Phong Nha was beyond description so there was really no option but to extend our stay there by a day just to have an opportunity to tour the Buddhist temple during their Moon ceremony. We explored and hiked many caves, including Paradise Cave (one of the largest in the world). The extra day provided a much-needed break from riding. Even 150 miles made for quite a day when you factor in researching the best routes, watching for Terminators, and taking in the culture and sights.
After three days in this magical location, it was time to load the motos and roar (as much as our little 150cc motorcycles could roar) in our northerly direction. With no defined stopping point on this day it was exciting to just see where the day would take us. This is never a bad way to travel and rarely fails to provide excitement. This case was no different as we stumbled on a beautiful eco lodge where we toured island tea fields by boat. At this lodge there were German riders going in the opposite direction. This started a great conversation on where to stay for us going north, and for them going south. They showed a video of a rickety old bridge on which you could see the bamboo flipping up in all directions from the weight of the motorcycle. This bridge would be added to our route north. It also worked as it took us through a more isolated area including Pu Luong National Forest, which had beautiful jungle mountain switchbacks. As a much smaller road, it would have fewer Terminators.
We arrived at the bridge late in the day and zipped across it several times. We laughed as we heard the boards clacking one by one when we crossed. It sounds silly but this may have been our favorite part of the entire adventure to this point. The German riders gave us not only great advice on the bridge, they also recommended a Home Stay next to the nature preserve. It had great food and all you can drink rice wine included. The beers were a bit bland but the rice wine was just the change I needed to unwind, loosen up to chat (maybe too much) with the other guests, and enjoy the evening in a hammock after a fabulous Vietnamese dinner. This wonderful hidden gem of the world led us to extend our stay longer to explore the national forest and its lush waterfalls and our new friends.
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If you missed the first four installments of the Vietnam ride, here they are:
Here’s 50 rounds, shooting double action rapid fire (really rapid fire, as fast as I could while still hanging on to the front sight).
The mountain roads provided beautiful switchbacks. We saw patchy rain clouds below us eerily floating by before they were consumed by the jungle. This part of the Trail is so remote we filled up water bottles with gas to ensure our bikes wouldn’t go thirsty since there were no gas stations. Continuing up and down through mountain passes until the sunlight faded, we finally dropped into a beautiful green valley. Water buffalo wandered into our paths as the roads straightened and the jungles were replaced with open rice fields and farmers.
