Month: December 2023

My 2024 Resolutions

By Joe Berk

The New Year hits tonight.  The years keep rolling by and it’s time for my 2024 resolutions.  I’ve made a few, and with your indulgence, I’ll share them here.

I’m going to continue to hold my tongue (and my keyboard) on all things political.  I’ve never seen anyone read a social media post or a blog or listen to someone with an opposing viewpoint and suddenly exclaim, “ah, now I understand…of course you’re right, and I was wrong all along…”  Nope, the era of intelligent political discourse ended in the 1960s with the Vietnam War protests.  Back then, and now, everyone is convinced their opinion is the only true path.  I’m never going to call anyone ever again a leftwing idiot or a rightwing idiot, partly because of this resolution and partly because I hate being redundant.

I’m going to stop getting upset with people at the gym tying up machines while screwing around on their cell phones.  Nope, you can sit on a machine and text to your heart’s content.  I’ll just move on to another piece of equipment.  Someday, though, when you’re standing in front of the Pearly Gates, you’ll have to answer.  And I’ll be there.  Just in case there are any questions.

I’m going to lose weight.  The answer is to use that calorie tracker on my cell phone and exercise.  Really.  This time I mean it.  I want to be skinny like Gresh.

I’m going to cook more, but in line with the resolution above I’ll eat less.  I do a great barbequed salmon, a marvelous Italian meat sauce, delicious stuffed shells, a wonderful chili, incredible stuffed peppers, a great wild pork sausage and mushrooms casserole, tasty chicken tostadas, and a few others.  I want to try making my own chile rellenos this year and find at least three more dishes to add to my repertoire.

I’m going to sell a few guns.  I own too many to enjoy and more than a few that I don’t shoot.  It’s time to convert these investments into cash and let others have some fun.

I’m going to ride my motorcycle and my bicycle more.  I’ve slowed down on my riding quite a bit in the last three years.  Part of it is the pandemic…law enforcement on our public roads has dropped to nearly nothing, and there are too many people driving like maniacs out there…speeding, weaving in and out of traffic, and screwing around on their cell phones.  I’ve been hit by cars twice in my life while on two wheels (once on a motorcycle and once on a bicycle), and I don’t care to add a third bone-breaking event to my resume.   But I haven’t been riding enough and I want to get out and ride.  Get my knees in the breeze.   You know the feeling.

It’s time to put more pork on the table.  I’m going to do at least two hunts in 2024.  One will be a varmint hunt for coyotes in Arizona with Baja John; the other will be a pig hunt with my 6.5 Creedmoor (location to be determined).  If you’re a vegetarian or fundamentally opposed to hunting, you have my permission to skip any blogs I write about these events.

I’m not going to buy any more watches.  I came across Segal’s Law last year, which holds that a man with a watch knows what time it is, but a man with many watches is never sure.  I’m the guy who’s never sure, raised to an exponent.

I’m going to do Baja again, most likely in March so I can see the whales, eat a chile relleno in San Ignacio, and visit Javier at the La Casitas in Mulegé.  I think Gresh wants to go, too.  Maybe we’ll get our other ExNotes writers in on the action.  You’ll read all about it here on ExNotes.

I’m retiring, for real this time.   I’ll still write for the ExNotes blog and Motorcycle Classics magazine (I enjoy writing for both and I never viewed either as work), but I’m done with everything else.  It’s time.

There you go…my 2024 resolutions.  How about yours?

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Bangkok Part 7: Thai moto taxis

By Joe Berk

I mentioned Thai motorcycle taxis in an earlier blog, and on the way back from Wat Arun today, Sue and I grabbed a few photos just outside our hotel of young ladies riding moto taxis sidesaddle to points unknown (points unknown to me; they knew where they were going).   It’s an interesting take on Thai life in the big city.  I’d seen this moto taxi business in China 30 years ago, but not anymore.   In China today, you just don’t see motorcycles in the big cities.  And you sure don’t see anything like this in America.

The photography challenges were interesting.  I couldn’t get close to the bikes (it was a wide and busy avenue in downtown Bangkok), the bikes were moving, and the lens didn’t have a lot of reach (it was the 18-55mm Nikon kit lens, an inexpensive lens not nearly as sharp as Nikon’s pricier offerings).  I cranked the D3300 camera’s ISO up to 800 (even though I was shooting  during the day) to get the shutter speed up (to freeze the action), and then I relied on Photoshop to do the rest (the rest being cropping, adjusting the levels and the curves, adjusting for shadows, adjusting vibrance and saturation, and finally after sizing the photo to the sizes you see here, adding a touch of sharpness.  I think they came out well.  Consider this photo from the above collection:

Here’s the original photo it came from before all the above adjustments:

If I had a bigger lens (say, a 300mm), I would have had a larger and sharper original photo, but as Donald Rumsfeld liked to say, you go to war with the Army you have.  I had my 18-55mm lens with me.  And I have Photoshop on my laptop.

I shot all of the photos above and a bunch more in the space of maybe five minutes (Bangkok’s Asok Street is a very busy street), and then I spent maybe another hour selecting the ones I wanted to use in this blog and Photoshopping them.  You can have a lot of fun with a camera in Bangkok.

Regarding the safety implications of what you see above, what can I say?  The riders had helmets.  The passengers?  Not so much.  We weren’t not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

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Sonora, Mexico

By Bobbie Surber

When is the perfect time to ride Sonora, Mexico? Any chance you get!

Fresh off a ride in Ecuador, I was itching to hop back on my Triumph Tiger GT Pro 900, fondly named Tippi, when my pal Destini (an ace adventure rider) suggested we hit up a rider’s event in Banamichi, Mexico. I did not hesitate for a second.  Hell yeah, I’m in!

The first stop on our adventure was a pre-trip visit to Destini’s home in Bisbee, Arizona, an old mining town. Tombstone, a nearby a wine district, and plenty of riding were nearby to keep us busy.  Our plan included riding to Agua Prieta, a quick ride from Bisbee, to sort out the next day’s border crossing. With our paperwork ready, we were back on the road aiming for the best tacos in Bisbee!

After enjoying a delicious meal of epic tacos, we gathered in front of the impressive motorcycle shrine at Destini’s (and her husband Jim’s) Moto Chapel.  We officially christened Tippi by adding her name to the tank. The Moto Chapel, a vision brought to life by Jim, never fails to catch the attention of visitors. It is a small garage with a pitched roof, complete with air conditioning and even a bathroom. It’s a true paradise for gearheads and motorcycle enthusiasts alike.

On the road again, with Destini leading the charge on her GS 800 named Gracie, we breezed towards the border. Or should I say, Destini and Gracie breezed through, leaving Tippi and me oblivious to the inspection signal, which led to a comical episode of me doing my best to charm the officers while trying to avoid a bureaucratic whirlwind between the US and Mexico. With a little acting (okay, a touch of exaggerated age and frailty), we were back on the road and free as the wind.

We savored every moment— zooming down the desert open roads of Mexico’s Highway 17, enjoying the breathtaking mountain vistas and sweet tight twisties along Sonora Highway 89.  That is, until we faced a water crossing. Destini, cool as ever, told me to keep my eyes up and just go for it. Turns out it was a breeze, but then she casually dropped a story about moss and a rider wipeout on a previous ride! Thanks for the heads-up, Destini…you did well telling me afterward!

Our destination was Banamichi, a charming town steeped in Opata indigenous culture and Spanish colonial history. Banamichi was a bustling trading hub, attracting merchants from far and wide.  We strolled through its charming streets, greeted by well-preserved adobe houses adorned with vibrant colors and traditional architectural elements. The town’s rich cultural is evident in its festivals, art exhibitions, and handicrafts that highlight its residents’ talent and creativity.

We settled in at the Los Arcos Hotel, hosted by Tom and his lovely wife Linda.   Their hospitality matched the hotel’s enchanting courtyard and old-world charm. The weekend whisked by in a blur of exhilarating rider tales, mingling with the aroma of delectable food and more than a few Mexican beers to ease the heat. The morning included a tour by the mayor, including the town square’s church.

Lunch that day included a visit to a small local ranchero for Bacanora tasting.  Bacanora is akin to Mezcal, a beverage to enjoy while being careful about how much you are willing to partake! The tasting and lunch were a leisurely affair. We savored the flavors of this year’s Bacanora harvest while enjoying a laid-back lunch with regional dishes that appeared abundantly and effortlessly.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, evenings were a symphony of vibrant hues, margaritas, and captivating rhythms of Folklorico dance.  Each of the dancers’s steps told a story—a mesmerizing tribute to Sonora’s rich cultural tapestry.

And as the second night ended, my mind buzzed with the tales of fellow riders and the warmth of the Bacanora nestled in my belly. The air hummed with laughter and camaraderie, each story adding another layer of adventure to the weekend’s memories.

Sunday morning heralded a poignant end to our short escapade—a bike blessing conducted by a local priest. It felt like a closing ceremony, encapsulating the spirit of our epic weekend. As we bid farewell to fellow riders, we reluctantly rode out of Banamichi.  Its charms lingered, a reminder of the joy found exploring quaint towns. It was a weekend filled with epic riding, new friendships, and a gentle nudge to continue seeking such delightful adventures.

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ExNotes Product Review: Generic Chinese Starter Relay

By Joe Gresh

There is a Facebook group called The Dull Men’s Club and somehow it ended up on my newsfeed. A few of my FB friends are members of the Dull Men’s Club and scrolling through the page it occurs to me that most of the stuff I write about would be perfect for the club. My life has become an endless series of tiny battles to keep motorcycles running. You may think I tinker with the bikes to have something to write about but no, my clunker motorcycles really are a pain to keep running.

The Husqvarna SMR510 in particular requires 5 or 6 hours of fettling for each hour of riding. You may recall the story I wrote about the bike’s kickstand (classic Dull Men’s Club content) and how the bike wouldn’t start. I took the bodywork off and tightened connections, I unplugged and cleaned multi-pin connectors and gave the headlight wiring a re-org to gain a little room behind that crowded area. The bike was starting ok after the work I did.

I took the Husky on a test ride through the mountains stopping frequently and it started fine at least seven times. I figured I had the problem licked and when I got home after a few hundred miles I tried the starter one last time. The Husky wouldn’t start. It wouldn’t start after I let it cool down. It wouldn’t start the next day. Again, I jumped the battery positive directly to the starter terminal and the bike roared into life. I knew the battery was okay so I did what I normally do when I don’t know what the problem is: I bought parts.

The starter relay on the Husky is an odd one to me but apparently the part is used on a lot of ATV’s, small engines and Chinese motorcycles. I looked on a Husqvarna parts site and the relay was $43, plus shipping. On Amazon a duplicate Chinese relay was $7, shipping included. If you’ve followed my moto-journo career at all I imagine there is not a lot of suspense as to which relay I bought.

Even to my naturally cheap psyche the $7 relay seemed too good to be true. So I bought two of them just in case the first one didn’t live up to expectations. Kind of like the old “We’re gonna need a bigger truck” punch line but with relays. The clone relay looked exactly the same as the Husky part except the molded, rubber band mounting bushing was clocked 90 degrees off. I pulled the rubber from the original part and it fit onto the clone perfectly. Things were looking good.

This relay is sort of nifty as it has a main fuse and a spare fuse piggybacked onto the starter relay making for a nice, lightweight, compact…thing. The stock Husky relay had a 20-amp main fuse. The generic unit came with a 30-amp fuse. I pulled on the 30-amp fuse to replace it. And I pulled. I pulled harder. I grabbed the fuse with a pair of Leatherman pliers and gave the fuse a mighty tug.

The relay flew apart; parts went everywhere as the plastic bit holding the main fuse broke away from the body of the relay. The tangs of the 30-amp fuse were still embedded in the fuse holder. I gathered the bits and tried to reassemble the relay but it was too far gone. Good thing I bought a second generic relay.

The fuse in the second relay was as tight as the first one so I decided to use the opportunity to upgrade the Husqvarna’s power supply by 10 amps and left the 30-amp fuse in place. It may never blow without melting the wiring harness. I’ll deal with that situation when it arises.

A: Plunger, B: Plunger spring, C: coil, D: start contacts, E: spark shield, F: coil bracket

I took the broken relay apart to see what was in the little black box and it was just like a normal starter relay but in reduced dimensions. I suspect the plunger contact on the OEM relay is not making good contact but there is no easy way to dismantle the relay without destroying the thing.

It’s been five days and I’ve started the Husky each day without a problem. Of course, this proves nothing and I’ll have to bang the bike on some trails to see if the starting issue has really been fixed. One positive outcome from all this jerking around is that I understand the relay wiring now and if it won’t start again I plan to bypass the stock Husky starter circuit and install an entirely new, stand-alone starter circuit/ main fuse with a second push button and relay.  It will be a perfect story for The Dull Men’s Club.

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Bisbee, Arizona: The Southwest’s Hidden Gem

 By Bobbie Surber

Nestled in southeastern Arizona, Bisbee offers a blend of history, natural beauty, and a spirited Wild West vibe along the Mexico border. My visit uncovered Bisbee’s charms and attractions, showcasing its unique character.  It is one of my favorite motorcycle destinations.

Journeying from Sedona on my trusty Triumph Tiger 900 GT Pro (lovingly named Tippi), the route initially seemed uneventful. However, upon meeting up with Destini and Jim, ardent adventure riding enthusiasts and Bisbee locals, the town’s captivating charm began to unfurl. Wandering the streets, I was enchanted by the town’s distinctive ambiance—a delightful testament to its rich mining heritage interwoven with a vibrant, slightly hippie-ish community. Their adorable bungalow, nestled along the main street with its newfound motorcycle haven christened “Moto Chapel” provided a fitting sanctuary for our bikes.

Our foray into the local culinary scene led us to the Taqueria Outlaw, a haven for taco lovers. With serious discernment for authentic flavors, I reveled in the experience.  It was a perfect harmony of a Mezcal Margarita complementing the tantalizing al pastor tacos, affirming Destini’s advice on the ultimate Bisbee taco spot. Slightly euphoric from our second Mezcal Margarita, we made our way along the main street, taking in the historic buildings constructed during the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  This era was the town’s mining boom, and it resulted in construction of numerous buildings in the styles popular during that period:  Victorian, Art Deco, and Craftsman. These gems have transformed Bisbee over the years into a destination with lodging, eateries, bars, art galleries, and shops.

I was reminded why I visit Bisbee often.  The food and local architecture, the local history, and Bisbee’s proximity to other significant attractions make this a wonderful place to visit.  Iconic and nearby Tombstone invites history buffs to take in legendary Wild West ambiance. For those who enjoy local wineries and tasting rooms, Arizona’s nearby wine district offers an opportunity to savor the region’s flavors. At the same time, the majestic Chiricahua Mountains’ breathtaking vistas and invigorating hikes entice visitors.

What sets Bisbee apart (beyond its history, the shops, and the food scene) is its extensive network of trails crisscrossing the area. Adventure enthusiasts will find their niche here, whether it be hiking, horseback riding, motorcycling, or mountain biking. Bisbee’s diverse terrain and surroundings cater to various skill levels, offering trails that promise memorable experiences amidst Arizona’s beautiful landscapes.

Whether a leisurely main street stroll or an exciting off-road expedition, Bisbee offers a range of adventures that leave a lasting mark on those exploring its diverse terrain.

If you are headed to Bisbee, here are a few of my favorite things:

Lodging

      • Jonquil Motel: Owned by adventure riders, this is a favorite place for both riders and non-riders. It’s my favorite for sure!
      • Bisbee Grand Hotel: Old west lodging at its finest!

Grub

      • Bisbee Breakfast Club: Hometown cooking with a diverse menu from biscuits and gravy to huevos rancheros.
      • The Copper Pig: One of Bisbee’s hidden dining gems.
      • The aforementioned, Taqueria Outlaw

Favorite Walk

      • The 1000 stair stroll. You will both feel the burn from all those steps and get a chance to meander through the historic neighborhoods!

Favorite Wineries

      • Dos Cabezas
      • Flying Leap
      • Arizona Hops and Vines

Favorite Motorcycle Rides

      • Dragoon Mountain
      • Chiricahua Mountains
      • Carr Canyon

For more on Bisbee from Motorcycle Classics magazine!

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Merry Christmas…

By Joe Berk

…and Happy Hanukkah, too.  Man, it’s hard to believe the ExhaustNotes blog is 5½ years old.  We started in July 2018, and here we are, the day before Christmas, in 2023.  Where does the time go?

This is a short blog, and its purpose is simply to wish everyone a happy holiday season.  I hope 2023 was a good year for you and that you have a great holiday tomorrow.  Keep the comments coming, keep clicking on those popup ads, if you need moto clothes click on over to British Motorcycle Gear, and if you’re headed into Mexico next year, be sure to insure with BajaBound (Gresh and I are talking about another Baja trip in March, and you can be sure that’s who we’ll use).

There won’t be a blog on Christmas day…we’ll be too busy unwrapping presents.  From all of us (Joe, Mike, Bobbie, Rob, and yours truly):  Enjoy the day.

That photo above?  I shot it in La Playa de Belem, Colombia, on Christmas Eve, using my D3300 Nikon, the 18-55mm Nikon lens, and available light.  The Moto Colombia ride was one of the best ever.  You can get the whole story of our adventure in the Andes here:

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A Drought While Surrounded By Water

By Mike Huber

This year I decided to expand my hobbies while traveling across the United States by motorcycle.  I enjoyed camping and riding but felt with the long summer days I needed something to do once I arrived in camp (other than drink beer around a beautiful campfire, which will still happen no matter how many hobbies I take up).  Fishing seemed to be a perfect way to spend early evenings once my campsite was set up. I was going to become a successful motorcycle fisherman.

OK, well the successful part ended rather quickly.  I started off just crushing it and catching fish almost every time I went camping.  I was fishing lakes around Arizona and thought that once I was in California it would only improve.  It didn’t.  In fact, I didn’t catch a single fish from July to the end of August.  In my own defense, I was fishing rivers where most were fly fishing and not using lures or worms.  But still, to be skunked day after day for a few months was demoralizing, especially one day when fishing in Lassen National Park.  There was a couple next to me, literally right next to me, using the exact same power bait and reeling in bass after bass.  As soon as he landed a fish his wife would clean and cook them on the spot. Meanwhile, I wasn’t even getting a bite.  I may have cried that night in my tent a little (or a lot).  I kept a positive outlook, as I was just starting my trip and had so many states to visit that my luck would surely turn around.

My luck did not turn around.  It got to where the fish were mocking me jumping all around my lures.  Even when I changed from power bait to spinners to gummy worms every 30 minutes or so, it just wasn’t happening.  This is where my friend said to me “That’s why they call it fishing, not catching.”  Ugh.  I clearly need better friends.

As my travels (and my fishing drought) continued, I camped and fished in 14 states without a bite (AZ, CA, OR, WA, ID, MN, PA, NY, VT, NH, ME, NJ, VA and MD).  Talk about a drought. This was awful.  I think what made it worse was my BMW GS1200 was so loaded down that I had the pole visible on the bike held by ROK Straps which invited people to come up and talk with me about my fishing success and comment “oh, you will definitely catch something here…I’ve never been skunked there.”  Well, I didn’t and  I was skunked.  Repeatedly.

On November 1st my BMW was stolen.  The steering column was cracked open like a lobster and it was pushed into an alley where the thieves pried open my panniers and took only a few items.  One of them happened to be my trusty $40 Walmart collapsible fishing pole. This was the ultimate insult to wrap up an unsuccessful fishing year.

Not being one to give up, the first thing I bought after the BMW was recovered was another fishing pole.  Over the winter months my plans are to start watching YouTube videos and reading how to improve my chances on the waters I travel along next spring throughout this great country.  2024 is my year to catch fish!

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The Great Flood of 2023 in Augusta, Maine

By Mike Huber

I found myself without my motorcycle spending the holidays with friends and family in my hometown of Augusta, Maine.  Normally Augusta is a pretty low key (boring) town to me.  I pass my time here watching my favorite evening news show 207.  The show covers local hometown people, their unique to Maine hobbies, and the lives of those that reside in Maine.  The show is hosted by Rob Caldwell, and my favorite, Samantha York. It’s always a pleasure for those who are within earshot of me during this show.  I constantly blurt out entertaining Maine stereotype commentary throughout the show.  Everyone really loves and embraces my unedited commentaries as the show goes on (no they don’t).

Sadly the week or December 18th would not be a week of me watching my beloved 207 news show due to a massive rain and windstorm that blew through the state that Monday. In all fairness to my obnoxious sidebar comments it was a hell of a storm.  Up to 5 inches of rain and winds topping out close to 70mph.  Although we made it through with minimal power outages, we were in the minority as close to 80 percent of the largest power company’s customers were down. Throughout the state about 400,000 were out of power (about a third of Maine’s entire population).

The following day I decided to go for a ride into the bustling city of Augusta to see what it looked like after the storm.  I thought it would be quiet in the city; boy, was I incorrect.  There were lines for gas that were easily 40 cars deep in almost every gas station.  An attempt to go to a local grocery store was quickly shot down when the line to just get into the parking lot was about as long as the gas lines.

Now my biggest concern at this point was when the internet and cable would be restored so I can watch 207 and continue to absorb Maine life through their perspective. It was another letdown on Tuesday as when 19:00 came around, there was still no cable, which meant no 207.  I had a bit of a cell phone signal to help pass the time and a decent book to read, but it just wasn’t the same without 207 to light up another dark evening.  My mom helped me pass the time by having me engage in crosswords, and as I did it allowed me to reflect on my poor decisions in life that led me to this point. Either way as 19:30 approached that constant red light on the modem continually reassured me this would be another night without 207 had come and gone.

At the writing of this on Wednesday morning the water of the mighty Kennebec River has crested and I can only assume it will be another quiet evening without the internet (or 207) as the river level lowers and the heroes who work at the power companies restore power.  We are all maintaining continued optimism for a speedy internet and power recovery so that we can enjoy 207 during the holiday season.

Stay strong my fellow Mainers!

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Digital Nomad: The Seattle Years

By Mike Huber

I wasn’t thrilled the first few months in Seattle after having moved from Victoria.  The timing of my move didn’t help since it was at the end of summer when the sun almost totally gives way to the gloomy gray clouds.  It wasn’t so much that it rained there but you absolutely could feel less energy around you due to a serious lack of vitamin D in everyone’s system. Nonetheless, I was here and had signed a one-year lease in a high rise in the Seattle neighborhood of Belltown, so I had to make the best of it.

It didn’t take too long to feel closed in living in the city.  Seattle isn’t a big city but what was missing is the nature that had engulfed and spoken to me over the past year.  My “office,” which I went in maybe once every few weeks to meet the team for coffee or happy hour, was in Bellevue.  I am usually not one to badmouth areas, but instead I like to look at the positive side and its attributes. In Bellevue I couldn’t find any.  It was a suburban plastic city with nothing but cookie cutter restaurants and bars.  It was like the Truman show, but with a “keep up with the Jones” mentality.  Everyone had expensive cars and would even move parking spaces to flaunt the material items they had become slaves to.  When asking them what they did on the weekend it usually entailed going to Costco and dinner at a Chili’s or Cheesecake Factory to wrap up a day at the mall.

Thankfully, I rode my Ducati Monster M1100 out from Maine.  This became the best way to leave the beaten path and explore the state of Washington, and boy did I explore it.  It was a quick learning curve to find incredible roads and remote camping areas that most people not only didn’t dare to explore (there were no Chili’s out on the Olympic Peninsula).  This was fine with me.

Once again, every weekend was like a vacation for me as I explored Washington.  When I went into the office my peers would gather to hear about where I went over the weekend and what I had experienced.  There were numerous challenging hikes, remote beach camping on the Olympic Peninsula, motorcycle rides through the Cascades, numerous volcanos, and countless treasures I discovered by talking to fellow hikers and riders.  I was starting to love Washington.  The diversity inspired me to explore the region and it was a rare weekend when I stayed in Seattle.

It didn’t take long before I got over the fear of city life, built a circle of great friends, and became fully acclimated to living in Belltown.  The weekends involved traveling through the state or up to Vancouver, BC and weekdays I spent in coffee shops and bars with my new friends. Life became pretty routine (which was odd for me), but it was enjoyable.

One of the cooler things I loved about Seattle is how dog friendly of a city it is.  For years they had a dog that rode the city bus with a bus pass to the local dog park.  Also, dogs are not only allowed in most bars but actually sit at the bar and the bartender provides a water dish and treats for them.  I have been in bars where at times there are more dogs than people.  This just added to my feelings for this city.

Although after almost three years living in the Seattle area and exploring most of its secrets, there were a few moments that told me it was time to return to my nomadic lifestyle.  One was during a Seattle Seahawks playoff game.  It was on TV and I went out on my tiny balcony to get some air, I looked around at all the high-rise apartments next to me and EVERY television was on the same channel watching the same thing. It was a scene out of George Orwell’s 1984.  It freaked me out and that was one of the seeds nudging me to move on.  The other was the gray skies. I was beginning to become depressed from lack of vitamin D and no matter how many supplements I took I could feel I was sinking into a depressive abyss. My parents, always ones to come up with creative solutions (that’s where I get it from) sent me a mood light for Christmas. It didn’t help.

That one final Seattle winter only provided the city with 20 hours of sun from mid-October until May.  I decided to take action.  I threw the mood light in the trash and devised a plan to leave Seattle and spend a month in Montana.  Little did I know that this decision would morph into a series of life changing events.

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ExNotes Product Review: Harbor Freight 30-Inch, 5-Drawer Mechanic’s Cart

By Joe Gresh

The Harbor Freight/US General 5-drawer tool cart has been on my radar for many years. It always seemed like a pretty good deal at $189 and if you bought the thing when it wasn’t on sale (every few weeks) the price would go up to $269. Paying full price at Harbor Freight is to be avoided at all costs and HF’s unrelenting cycle of blowouts, parking lot sales and clearances has trained their customers to wait them out. This particular mechanic’s cart sale was a Black Friday thing and I debated picking one up but managed to tamp down the urge.

I thought I was in the clear until HF declared an extension to Black Friday, at which point I gave in and went down to their store to pick up one of the damn things. This wasn’t a spur of the moment deal. I have a homemade rollaway box full of tools I rarely use but can’t get rid of and another really cheap top and bottom combination setup also filled with odd bits and lathe tools.

My previous mechanic’s cart is a cut down rolling file cabinet, the type used in offices by the type of secretary born sometime in the 1950s. The file cabinet thing was never great, but it made a good workbench to repair the Husqvarna’s transmission. After that transmission job the cart slowly became covered in tools making it hard to dig through the junk to find a 10mm socket. It became a poorly organized catchall.

The US General 5-drawer cart comes to you mostly assembled. You have to put together the wheels and the lower shelf, along with the uprights and some corners for the top box. The instructions are good enough except for the part about lifting the box up onto the legs. The manual says to not attempt this alone. I’m always alone and the box was heavy and too bulky. I got the thing off the ground but accuracy was suffering and I was worried about scratching the paint or pinching my fingers.

Taking the drawers out to lighten the box was one option. Plan B was to lay the box on its side and slide the frame into position as the frame weighed much less than the box.  Now I had the cart on the ground, so I lifted the thing upright pivoting on the wheels. It was still a strain but easier than lifting the entire box. You get a lot of steel for $189 at HF. After the thing was upright, I tightened all the bolts that hold it together.

The 5-drawer box is really nice. The paint (five colors to choose from; I got KTM orange) looks thick and applied well. The box comes with drawer liners in each drawer and in the bottom shelf.

The wheels appear heavy duty and are probably overkill. HF included a nice, extra-mile feature by providing the swivel casters with grease fittings for the ball bearings in the swivel part. Also included on the two casters are brakes so if you’re working on an incline the box won’t roll away.

The drawers use two methods to secure them from sliding open under transport. The first is a latch on the front of each drawer that you must slide to the side in order to open the drawer. I’m not sure I like these latches. I want the drawers to open without the added finger motions. I may disable these latches.

The second method of drawer retention includes two, spring-loaded lock bars that slide down onto the backside of the drawers when the top of the box is closed. The box comes with four round-Coke-machine type keys so you can lock your stuff if you work in a shop full of shifty characters.

For such a low price the 5-drawer box doesn’t seem cheap at all. I think it’s Harbor Freight’s best toolbox value. Two gas charged struts are used to hold the top in the open position and the unit came with a handy side shelf to store your unguents and the various toxic chemicals that mechanics use in their daily course of events.

My particular 5-drawer had a slight flaw: one of the drawer slides was not in its track correctly and was binding. I had to remove the drawer and slot the slide into the track after which the drawer worked fine. I’m not sure that I didn’t cause the problem when I set the box on the side and lifted the cart upright with all the bolts loose. Maybe it flexed and popped out. With everything tight the box feels sturdy without any wobble.

I give the US General 5-drawer mechanic’s cart high marks and can recommend it if its size suits your needs. Now I’ve got to sort out that mess of jumbled tools and organize my new toolbox, a process that has already begun.

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