There are many fast motorcycle riders/writers that would be better suited to the task of reviewing motorcycle tires. Unfortunately, none of them are available at the moment so you’ll have to go with my impression of these Shinko Raven tires.
I previously ran Continental Conti-Motion tires on the ZRX1100 mostly because they were cheap. I got a good deal on a set of front/rear tires with shipping included. The Conti-Motion set came with a 180/55-17 rear tire that was a little bigger than the original 170/60-17 called for on the ZRX. The wider, lower profile tire seemed ok at the time because I hadn’t ridden the motorcycle for 9 years. After I fitted the Shinko Ravens I could tell a difference.
The Harbor Freight tire machine along with the tubeless rims on the ZRX made swapping the tires a breeze. The new tires took only a few ounces of weight to balance so I assume the rubber is pretty evenly distributed around the tire.
I have around 4000 miles on the Shinko tires and it looks like the rear might go another 3000 miles or so. The front tire is wearing much slower and looks like it will go 10,000 miles. Like I said: there are faster riders that could eat these tires up in one day.
The Shinko Ravens are supposedly aramid belted radials with a speed rating of Z, or 149 mph plus. The ZRX1100 won’t do 149 falling out of an airplane so I should be good. Shinko claims the Raven is their longest wearing sport tire. Until they start making car tires, that is.
In a straight line the Contis and the Shinkos are about the same. However the Shinko tires feel much different than the Contis in corners. With the wide 180 series Continental rear tire it felt like the ass end of the bike raised as you laid the bike into a corner. Or maybe the front end dropped. Hitting a bump mid-corner made the rear of the bike want to twist outwards instead of absorb the bump. You had to counteract that wagging sensation with a firm grip on the bars.
No such problem with the Shinko Raven 170 series tire. The ZRX leans into a curve with the ride height feeling evenly matched front to back. No effort on the handle bars is required. Mid-corner bumps don’t have the twisting feel and the rear suspension articulates without drama.
These sensations are all relative and feelings are hard to quantify, maybe it’s just me, and on a race track there might not be any difference in lap times. But then what are you doing racing a heavy street bike on cheap street tires? Stop that.
I much prefer the handling characteristics of the Ravens even though I can’t find the word “Raven” anywhere on the tire. They are stable, go around corners nicely and are round and black.
I haven’t had many opportunities to try the Shinko tires in the wet. In the dry season it rains infrequently (hence “dry season”) and when it’s monsoon I tend to stay home. Still, it’s possible to get caught in the rain here in New Mexico. What little time I have in the wet with the Shinkos didn’t feel all that grippy. I took it easy as the oils accumulated during the dry season rose to the top of the asphalt. Cracking the throttle on the torquey 1100cc 4-cylinder can induce wheel spin on a wet road so don’t do that. In a wet corner you can get the big ZRX drifting easily. Don’t do that either.
In the dry I have yet to lean the bike over far enough to use all the available tread, also known as crashing. The mountain roads where I live are swept only by wind and rain. It’s not surprising to round a corner and find a steaming cow turd in the road. Or sand. Or a downed tree. Anyway, that’s my excuse.
The Shinko tires are a great match for the ZRX1100, I wouldn’t think a small thing such as tire size would have such an outsized effect on the overall feel of a motorcycle but there it is. I would buy another Raven if they go on sale but then I’m the worst guy to take tire advice from, as there are other, faster shills.
Love them or hate them, there’s something about Harley-Davidson motorcycles that command attention, and during our recent visit to the Harley museum in Milwaukee, one of the exhibits that grabbed my attention was The Engine Wall. It had a magnificent display of Harley-Davidson engines including their big twins, their small twins, and other engines in the Harley family tree. I always found the evolution of the big twin engines mildly confusing, but this dramatic display cleared all that up. I grabbed a photo of each one and I thought I’d share them with you here on the blog.
F-Head (1911-1929)
The F-head engines were 61 cubic inches, and later, 74 cubic inches. These were Harley’s first v-twin engines, and they featured an inlet over exhaust valve configuration. What that means is that the intake valve was an overhead valve contained in the cylinder head (it moved down to let in the air-fuel mixture), and the exhaust valve was a side valve (or flathead valve) contained in the cylinder on one side (it moved up to allow the exhaust gases to escape). Inlet over exhaust internal combustion engine configurations (or F-heads) were fairly common in the early days of gasoline engines. If you draw the arrangement schematically, it sort of looks like an F (hence the name). The larger of the two Harley F-head models produced 11 horsepower.
V-Series Flathead (1930-1936)
The V-series flatheads were either 45 cubic inches or 74 cubic inches. They were sidevalve engines, which means the valves and their seats faced up and were located in the cylinders (not the cylinder heads), alongside piston (hence the sidevalve descriptor). This allowed the head to be basically flat (when viewed from the bottom), and that’s why these engines are called flatheads. It’s an old school design and it works well, but due to the twists and turns the intake and exhaust gases have to make and their poor heat dissipation, flatheads are limited in how much power they can produce. Harley would get around to fixing that in 1936 with the introduction of their overhead valve Knucklehead engine, but that would be down the road. Read on; we’ll get to that.
U-Series Flathead (1937-1948)
This was the second iteration of Harley’s sidevalve (or flathead) engines. There were two versions: The U and UL models (both had 74 cubic inches), and the UH and ULH (these had 80 cubic inches). The U series of engines were used for both motorcycles and Harley’s three-wheeled vehicles.
Knucklehead (1936-1947)
The Knucklehead was the first of Harley’s overhead valve engines, and the knucklehead name was derived from the valve covers’ appearance. Knuckleheads were made in a 61 cubic inch model and then in 1941, a 74 cubic inch configuration.
I’ve read that Knucklehead engines had serious oil leak issues caused by an overly complex rocker box cover (something Harley tried to correct with the next engine configuration, the Panhead). Knuckleheads had cast iron cylinder heads, which tended to make them run hot (cast iron does not dissipate heat very well). The Knucklehead motorcycles were the first Harleys that featured their distinctive Big Twin style, something that Harley has kept right up to present-day offerings.
Panhead (1948-1965)
The Panhead Harleys got their name from the valve covers’ appearance (they look like pans). This engine and the Evo engine (the engine that appeared two iterations later) are, in my opinion, the two best looking engines Harley ever made. In a major design shift for Harley, Panhead cylinder heads were made of aluminum, which improved heat dissipation and temperature control. The Panhead was intended to improve performance and address the oil leak issues associated with the Knucklehead. Did it work? I don’t know. I’ve never seen a Panhead Harley that did not leak. They sure are beautiful, though. The Panhead had a short production run, but it had a major impact on Harley styling.
The last year of the Panhead (1965) was the first year Harley had electric starting (that was when Harley introduced the Electra Glide name). My two ultimate dream bikes are the 1965 Harley Electra Glide and the Norton P-11 (which is discussed elsewhere on ExNotes). In my opinion, Panhead Harleys are exceptionally beautiful motorcycles.
Shovelhead (1966-1984)
1966 saw the introduction of another Harley engine, and yet another name based on the rocker box appearance.
I had a Shovelhead (a 1979 Electra Glide Classic). It was so bad I called it the Optical Illusion (because it looked like a motorcycle). My shovelhead Electra Glide was the worst motor vehicle of any type I ever owned (car, motorcycle, lawn mower, and Cox-.049-model airplane). It was constantly plagued by oil leaks and breakdown. It wouldn’t go a hundred miles without something breaking. After coming off a Triumph Bonneville, the Harley handled like a garbage truck. It would hang an exhaust valve every 4,000 miles, and as it was explained to me by the dealer, it was because when unleaded gasoline was introduced in the US, the valves would stick in the valve guides without the added lubricity provided by leaded gas. I don’t know if that was the reason or not, but in 12,000 miles, that bike needed three valve jobs (the first two were on the dealer with the bike’s 12,000-mile warranty; the third was on me because the bike had just over 12,000 miles. After paying for that last valve job, I sold my Electra Glide and I swore I’d never buy another Harley (but I did; see below). It was beautiful, though, and I wish I had kept it.
Evolution (1984-1999)
Harley got their act together on this one, and it was probably because they subcontracted the engineering to Porsche. Willie G drove a Porsche, and he knew they knew how to engineer engines. It was a good move. I had a ’92 Heritage Softail and it was a great motorcycle. My dealer? Not so much, but I guess it was all part of the Harley experience. I put a lot of fun miles on my ’92 including trips all over the US Southwest and Mexico, and I enjoyed riding it. The engine style was great, too.
In my opinion, the Evo engine was one of the two best-looking motors Harley ever made (the other was the Panhead; see above).
Twin Cam (1999-2017)
The thing most amazing to me about the Twin Cam engine was that Harley kept it as long as they did. It was basically a bust. Plagued by mechanical failures and overheating from the get-go, one had to be either ignorant or a masochist to buy a Harley with a Twin Cam motor. Cam failures, lubrication failures, and overheating were a fact of life if you owned one of these. The rear cylinder overheating issue was so bad that Harley incorporated a switch and an automated feature to shut down the rear cylinder if the engine got too hot. Amazingly and amusingly (at least to anyone with any mechanical smarts), Harley called activation of the rear cylinder shutdown feature their “parade mode,” with the implication that it was intended to accommodate riders who rode in, you know, parades. There were kits available to shield the riders’ legs from the intense heat the rear cylinder generated.
Twin Cam Rushmore (2014-2016)
This is a higher performance version of the Twin Cam engine that involved many changes, the most significant of which was liquid cooling for the cylinder heads on the Ultra Limited, CVO Limited, and Tri-Glide models (the models in which the radiators could be hidden; you can’t have a Big Twin Harley looking like a Gold Wing, I guess).
Milwaukee Eight (2017 to Present)
Harley joined much of the rest of the world in 2017 when they incorporated four valves (two intake, two exhaust) for each cylinder. Let’s see…two cylinders, four valves per cylinder…that makes eight, and Harley’s hometown is Milwaukee. Hey, the Milwaukee Eight! (At least the name makes more sense than the Rushmore mentioned above.) These engines had problems and Harley had recalls to address them. Wet sumping was a major issue, as was overheating. The Milwaukee Eight incorporated a plastic intake manifold, too, which also had issues. I like the name, though.
I thought the Harley Museum’s Engine Wall was very, very well done. Harley put a lot of thought and work into it, and as a mechanical engineer and former Harley owner, I enjoyed it. There’s the obvious: the actual engines on display. And then there’s the subtle: the slight tilt of that orange wall toward the visitors so that the engines were presented not an angle, but straight on as you tilt your head up to view the different engines. The colors are classic Harley: black, orange, and chrome. It’s one of the better displays I’ve seen of any type in any museum. The whole thing just works. Harley got The Engine Wall right; they did an awesome job.
As mentioned at the start of this blog, there were more engines on The Engine Wall. These included their smaller engines (for the Sportsters and the racebikes), their singles, and some interesting other twins. Keep an eye on ExNotes; we’ll show those, too.
I first heard of Dave Barr on a motorcycle ride with Baja John and friends through the wilds of Tehachapi and Kern County. One of the riders in our group (an Air Force colonel) mentioned Dave’s book on a roadside stop somewhere out in the Owens Peak wilderness area. It had my attention immediately. The Internet was in its infancy in those days and when I made it home, I managed to find more about Mr. Barr online.
The site I found listed a book (Riding the Edge) and a phone number, so I called. I ordered several copies, one for me and others for friends. The guy on the other end of the line was Dave Barr himself and we had a nice conversation. As it turned out, Dave lived in Bodfish near Lake Isabella. One thing led to another and in that conversation, I arranged another ride to meet Dave in person. Good buddy Baja John rode with me.
It was a grand ride, starting in Caliente (on the magnificent Bodfish-Caliente Road) and then around glorious Lake Isabella with world traveler and living legend Dave Barr. Dave rode a Sportster in those days; his earlier ride was a 1972 Super Glide. Much has been made of the fact that Barr rode that Super Glide around the world as a double amputee, but it took only a few minutes knowing Dave to stop thinking of him as a double amputee and to see him as a fascinating and genuinely nice guy, and that’s what I remember about him.
Dave Barr’s book, Riding the Edge, is the greatest motorcycle adventure story ever told, made all the more significant by two facts. The first is that Dave Barr, the author, did the ride after losing both legs to a land mine in Africa; the second is that Dave did the ride on a beat up old ’72 Harley Super Glide that had 100,000 miles on the odometer before he started his run around the planet.
Dave Barr’s ride around the world took four years, mostly because Dave financed the trip himself. He’d ride a country or two, run out of money, get a job and save for a bit, and then continue. I first read Riding the Edge two decades ago, and it was the book that lit my fire for international motorcycle riding. I’ve probably read Dave’s book five or six times. The guy was and still is my hero.
Rest in peace, Dave. You inspired me and many others, and your memory will far outlast all of us.
There’s a reason we call this pump a tire inflator instead of an air compressor. The thing is pretty small to start with and half of that size is battery to power the thing. Don’t expect to run your 1/2″ air impact wrench with the UABRLA is what I’m trying to say in an original, thought-provoking manner.
I have a small, 12-volt Slime brand tire inflator that I carry on whichever bike I’m riding. It works well and is like 15 years old now. The main issue (I hate to say problem because it’s more of a design limitation) is that you have to connect it to the motorcycle’s battery. On the RD350 that’s not a big problem but on some bikes, like the ZRX1100, the battery is buried under a bunch of junk I store on the bike. You have to remove the dirty socks, chucks of broken concrete, a dried up Sharpie marker and last year’s Laguna Seca vintage racing schedule. That gains access to the battery door, then you have to slide the battery out to access the terminals.
For airing up bike tires in the shop I use a larger 12-volt compressor (it has some grunt) and a 12-volt car battery.
I bought the UABRLA because I sometimes forget on which bike the Slime pump is stored. I’ve ridden off to the hinterlands thinking I had flat tires covered yet the Slime was packed away on a different motorcycle.
You’re probably wondering if I’ll ever get to the UABRLA review.
The UABRLA was delivered from Amazon in only two days. That’s pretty fast considering where I live. It came with a hose for connecting to tires, a charging cord, a 12-volt cigarette adaptor so you can keep filling tires even if the built-in battery is dead and a little collection of adapters for beach balls, inflatable mattresses and New England Patriots footballs. A handy tote bag is included. The unit also has a flashlight and a USB port for charging small electronics. The flashlight has three modes: on, on-strobe, on-SOS. Four modes if you count off.
The inflator has presets for car tires, motorcycle tires, bicycles and sports equipment. I can’t see the need as air is air but maybe if you were a complete novice it would help.
A nice touch is the auto-shutoff that kills the inflator when the tire reaches a preset pressure. The setting is pretty accurate being only a pound or two off when checked against a pencil-type gauge. Or maybe the pencil gauge is off. Regardless, I can’t tell a tire is low until the rim scrapes the ground.
The built in battery supposedly has 20,000 mah capacity but I can’t be bothered to test that. I filled up two bicycle tires and topped up 6 motorcycle tires with the little inflator and it was still showing 2 of 4 bars. I’m guessing you could fill one car tire with the built in battery. After that you’ll have to switch to the 12-volt cigarette adaptor.
Anyway, I wouldn’t use this machine for car tires. Maybe adding a few pounds would be ok. My experience with these little inflators is that they get hot if you run them too long so I’d let it cool a few times if you’re filling a 40-inch tall muddier tire.
One thing I would like different is a 90-degree air chuck instead of the straight chuck that comes with the UABRLA. It gets a little tight on some motorcycle wheels.
The UABRLA is a nice-looking bit of consumer glitter. I’ll be tossing this pump into my motorcycle travel kit and hopefully it will last more than one or two uses.
Harley-Davidson built four military motorcycles during World War II: The WLA, the WLC, the Knucklehead EL Overhead Valve, and the XA. The 45-cubic inch V-twin WLA was the preferred US Army motorcycle, and it was the motorcycle Harley-Davidson produced in mass quantities. We recently visited the Harley-Davidson Museum in Milwaukee, where I was able to grab most of the photos you see here.
The WLA
The WLA Harley-Davidson (if you haven’t tumbled to it yet, the “A” in WLA stands for Army) used a detuned 750cc air-cooled engine. The motorcycle had a springer front end and a solid rear (there were no springs or shocks in the rear, other than the spring beneath the seat post). The WLA, like other Harleys of that era, had a foot-operated clutch on the left and a hand shifter on the fuel tank’s left side.
Simplicity was the WLA’s defining theme. Its flathead engine could be disassembled using only hand tools. At the army’s request, Harley built the WLA with a carburetor that had nonadjustable needles and jets, a configuration Harley used on some of its police motorcycles. The idea was to prevent soldiers (or police officers) adjusting the carb. The WLA didn’t even have a key. A trooper just had to kick-start it and ride.
The Army quickly found WLA improvement opportunities. Travel on dusty roads tended to accelerate engine wear, so Harley added a monstrous oil-bath air filter. The second improvement was the headlight location. WLA headlights were initially above the handlebars (like on the civilian models). Part of the Army’s tactical doctrine, though, included a move that required the rider to use the motorcycle as a shield. The drill in that move involved skidding the rear wheel, flipping the rear out, and then laying the bike down to form a barricade…you know, so you could shoot at the bad guys from your now-prone motorcycle (thus giving new meaning to the time worn “I had to lay ‘er down” and similar expressions). The problem here was that the above-the-handlebars-headlights often broke during this maneuver. Harley remounted the headlight just above the front fender to better protect it.
The Army started buying WLA Harleys even before the United States went to war. In 1940, the Army ordered 16,000 WLAs to be delivered in 1940 and 1941, and then after Pearl Harbor, the pace increased. Harley won contracts for 13,000 WLAs in 1942, 24,000 in 1943, 11,000 in 1944, and more than 8,000 in 1945.
Even the Navy got in the act with a WL variant painted sort of a battleship gray. The Navy used their motorcycles for shore patrol duties (the Shore Patrol was the Navy’s Military Police function). I saw one with a sidecar at the Harley Museum in Milwaukee. It was a sweet-looking motorcycle.
Harley-Davidson sold 88,000 military motorcycles during the war to the United States, England, Canada, China, India, and Russia. Many were eventually sold to the public. Most are in collections; some are still ridden today. In addition to the 88,000 complete motorcycles, Harley built enough spare parts to build 30,000 more motorcycles.
The WLC
During World War II, the Canadians also bought Harleys for their army, as did many other countries. The other countries used the standard WLA, but Canada had its own unique requirements. These included an auxiliary hand clutch, interchangeable front and rear wheels, and a front wheel stand (the U.S. model had the traditional Harley side stand). Harley-Davidson built 18,000 WLC motorcycles for Canada.
The 61 EL
Harley had introduced its 61-cubic-inch EL Knucklehead engine to the civilian market in 1936. The Knucklehead and its overhead valve engine offered better performance than the flathead 45 W-series Harleys. Harley-Davidson delivered a small number of military motorcycles based on the 61-cubic-inch Knucklehead engine. Man, that must have been a good gig…being an Army dispatch rider and drawing a Knucklehead for your ride. The military Knuckleheads are rare (no jokes needed here, folks). I can’t remember ever seeing one. But, I found a video of one that was for sale in 2017. Enjoy, my friends…
The XA
The Army preferred the Harley WLA to the Indian 30-50, but it had problems with both motorcycles. In addition to the engine wear and broken headlight problems mentioned above, the rear chain had to be adjusted and replaced frequently on both motorcycles. Engine overheating was another problem (the Harley and the Indian both had V-twin engines, and with a V-twin, the rear cylinder runs hotter than the front cylinder). The rear cylinders could seize because of this.
When the British captured BMW R 12 motorcycles in North Africa and provided a few to the United States, the German machines appeared to provide the answer to the U.S. Army’s major concerns with the WLA. The BMW had a relatively maintenance-free driveshaft to provide power to the rear wheel. The BMW’s horizontally-opposed twin cylinders were both out in the airstream, and as a result the BMW engine ran about a hundred degrees cooler than the Harley and Indian engines. The shaft drive did away with the chain and its wear and adjustment issues. The giant oil bath air cleaner was in a great location. And the BMW had a foot shifter and a hand clutch, a much easier to operate arrangement.
The Army asked both Harley-Davidson and Indian to develop prototypes based on the BMW R 12. Harley-Davidson’s answer was the XA, which looked, for all intents and purposes, as if the BMW engine and shaft drive had been grafted into a standard WLA. In reality, what had happened was very close to that. Harley reverse-engineered the BMW drive train and mated its version into the WLA chassis. The first few, including the prototype, even had the Harley springer front end.
The Army was impressed with both the Harley and Indian BMW clones, and they gave both manufacturers production contracts. Harley and Indian each built 1,000 machines based on the BMW design. Harley’s XA was more of a direct copy; Indian’s design had the cylinders tilted up like a modern Moto Guzzi. But while the Harley and Indian development work was under way, the army had been experimenting with other transportation concepts and found that the 4WD Willys (the Jeep) was a much better all-around military vehicle. The Army shifted its resources to Jeep acquisition and did not take delivery on the motorcycles Harley and Indian had already produced. The Army can be fickle like that.
Both Harley and Indian did not pursue BMW clones, since neither company saw any significant civilian demand. Both manufacturers sold their machines to the public and walked away from further development. Today, both the Harley XA and its Indian counterpart are highly collectible.
The Real Knuckleheads?
On that topic of knuckleheads mentioned above…no, not the EL model mentioned several paragraphs up, but the guys running the show in the War Department and over at Indian. You see, the War Department’s spec for their desired military motorcycles called for a 30.5 cubic inch motorcycle (a 500cc twin). Indian snapped to and developed the Model 741 you see in the video below. Harley thought about things for a minute and told the Army they didn’t make a 500cc motorcycle, and they let the Army know they weren’t about to start. Harley further informed the, er, knuckleheads that they made a very good 45 cubic inch motorcycle, and if the Army wanted Harleys, that’s what they could buy.
The knuckleheads (the ones in uniform, not the EL motorcycles) quickly found out that Harley was right. The troops let the brass know that Harleys were better motorcycles, and that’s why the Army ordered many more Harley WLAs than Indians.
There’s one more area in which Harley had to set the knuckleheads straight. During the war, the Army told Harley and Indian to cancel all civilian motorcycle production and make only military motorcycles. Indian saluted and executed. Harley let the War Department know they could go pound sand. By keeping their civilian production going, Harley preserved their customer base. After the war, Harley prospered. Indian? Well, you know how that story ends.
I wrote a story for Motorcycle Classics magazine about the Indian 30-50 (Indian’s World War II workhorse) a few years ago. You can view it here. I also have a video of that bike you might enjoy:
As you’ll recall from the Oxilam headlight review we published on ExhaustNotes a while back, I loved the thing. It gave a much brighter view at night and the light source was positioned in the correct spot for the reflector on the ZRX1100 Lawsonsaki. Low beam was wide and had a sharp cutoff so as to not blind oncoming drivers, and high beam lit up the dark New Mexico roads nicely.
Unfortunately. the bulb burned out on my bike after only 3000 miles. Considering the original halogen bulb lasted 35,000 miles, 24 years, and was still going strong, I was disappointed.
Taking the bulb apart revealed a neatly constructed circuit board, a cooling fan, heat transferring grease to the large aluminum heat sink, and broken solder connections at the main board/plug connector junction.
The board connections are tiny and I may try to re-solder the connections (there are four of them broken: two on either side of the circuit board) but I don’t hold out much hope.
The Oxilam kit came with two bulbs, and I’ll pop the other one in to see if my failure was just a fluke. I do like the quantity of light produced and riding with a plain old halogen seems dark now.
My new, revised rating on the Oxilam LED headlights is: Don’t buy them just yet. Wait until the second Oxilam has proved itself for 24 years. I’ll be sure to report back here if I’m still alive.
Astute readers will remember our post on Shinya Kimura, an artist who works with metal and motorcycles to create motorcycle art. I was both pleased and surprised to see one of his creations at the Harley Museum during our recent Milwaukee content safari.
“Spike,” Mr. Kimura’s custom Knucklehead, was in a Harley museum hall that focused on custom motorcycles, and even before I saw his name, I knew whose work it was.
I believe “Spike” is the very same motorcycle featured in this video:
The Shinya Kimura shop, located in Azusa, California (not far from CSC Motorcycles) is one of the more interesting places I’ve ever visited. I think you would enjoy it, too, although it is not open to the public. I was there on business reasons, and I captured some great photos. If you have a chance, check out our earlier blog.
After 5 weeks on Koh Tao it was time to move on to explore more of Thailand. I was becoming complacent and really had a lot more to experience in Thailand before my visa expired. Being comfortable in one place was a new feeling for me, and although it was a wonderful feeling it also meant that I wasn’t growing, which was a huge part of undertaking this journey. There was a lot of Thailand I hadn’t explored yet, but I wasn’t up for a flight. So, after talking with others the city of Krabi kept coming up as a place of beauty. So Krabi it was.
Krabi is a rather large city and after having recently spent two weeks in Bangkok, I was really done with large cities. As with most cities you really cannot absorb the full culture there. Yes, there are museums, temples, and other tourist attractions, but to fully feel the true heartbeat of a region you need to travel off the beaten path, which in most cases means meandering around the countryside.
Ao Nang is the “countryside” of Krabi, and although Ao Nang wasn’t that far off the beaten path, it was near the Andaman Sea. There is easy access to ferries that could bring you to any number of islands quickly. This would make for a perfect base for a week in order to partake in island hopping day trips and even an overnight trip to Railay Beach.
Railay Beach wasn’t an island, but a remote peninsula that was only accessible by long tail boat. Just a 15-minute boat ride and you were on what felt like on another planet. The beach was beautiful with crystal clear waters around limestone mountains that popped out of the ocean in every direction. There were monkeys running around and even parrots in the trees above me. The people here were on island time; there was no rush or hurry to do anything. Railay Beach was the perfect place to watch the sunset while drinking a cold Chang beer listening to a local play classic rock tunes in a smoky bar while people sat almost invisible in the far back on cushions enjoying their mushroom shakes with neon paintings glowing to guide the journeys they were on. It was really a unique place, and for me to be saying that means a lot.
The remainder of the time in Krabi I spent on the beaten path joining in tours of the many islands. The days were lazily spent snorkeling, sunning on the white sands, and embracing the emerald-green waters. Ao Nang is yet another location on this trip where I seemed to continually extend my hotel stay day by day until I realized a week had passed and it was now time to move on to the next adventure. My urge to leave was fueled by my new hobby of scuba diving. Once again it didn’t take too long to decide my next destination: The Phi Phi Islands.
For a guy who doesn’t collect knives, I sure seem to have a lot of them laying around. The one you see above came to me as part of what is perhaps the greatest sales gimmick of all time: The “$100 Ships Free!” offer.
You know, the MidwayUSA.com come on…orders over $100 ship free. I ordered a Safariland 1¾-inch wide belt in a smaller size because I lost weight, I got down to the last belt buckle hole on my old Safariland belt, and my pants were still loose. The new belt was $71 (a lot, I know, but it works well when carrying concealed and Safariland makes a very high quality item). If I could kick the order over $100 the belt would ship free. Shipping if I didn’t make the $100 hurdle was $15. So this Uncle Henry knife popped up, and it was like getting the knife for half price, because it ordinarily cost just over $30.
Bam! Add to cart. A no brainer, if ever there was one.
The knife is a Schrade, part of their Uncle Henry line. I don’t know if that means it’s good or not so good. I couldn’t find anywhere on the knife that says it’s made in China, but I guessed that it was. A quick Google check confirmed it. That’s not a bad thing, though. The knife appears to be well made. A lot of things that are made in China are good.
The Uncle Henry knife came with a sheath and a tiny sharpening stone in another piggy-backed sheath (the idea being that you’ll always have a way to sharpen your knife), not that I’ll ever use the sharpening stone. The stone is small enough that I could see myself slicing my hand open trying to hold it.
The Stagalon grip material is some sort of plastic that is supposed to look like, you know, stag. That’s okay by me. For just over $30, I wasn’t expecting real stag. I wasn’t expecting the Stagalon to look as good as it does, either. That was a nice surprise. Stagalon. I guess I could make a video of the knife and call it a stag film. Maybe just saying stag film will result in a lot of hits. Do they still call them stag films these days, or is that no longer politically correct?. Isn’t that terminology kind of insulting to all the deer out there sweating out this hunting season? Anyway, to get back to Stagalon, the handle doesn’t quite match the look and feel of real stag, but it is kind of cool and it is nice.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my Uncle Henry Stagalon knife, other than look at it for awhile and write a blog about it. If I was a camper I suppose I could wear it in the woods, but I don’t camp much these days (in my golden years, I find I like motels a lot better). No, this knife will go on the shelf, along with a bunch of other “$100 Ships Free!” knives. It is kind of cool, though.
I’m not a Glock guy and it’s not likely I’ll ever own one, but Glock (a book by Paul M. Barrett about Gaston Glock and the pistols that carry his name) sure is an interesting read.
Gaston Glock surprised everyone when he submitted a bid with a new design for a military handgun. He surprised people even more when he won the competition, and then he (and the company that bears his name) were on their way. Glock ran a small-potatoes company in Austria that made automobile radiators. He knew nothing about firearms and military contracts. Maybe that was his advantage. Glock started with a clean sheet of paper, both for the gun’s design and his approach to market.
Barrett tells an interesting story about how Glock employed unorthodox marketing practices (practices involving a former porn princess and lots of company freebies) to become one of the most successful arms manufacturers on the planet. It really is a fascinating story. Corporate shenanigans, arms deals, palace intrigue, an attempt on Gaston Glock’s life, police shootouts, and more: Glock has it all.
I’ve shot Glocks (I have friends who own them). I get that they are inexpensive and reliable. I don’t like striker-fired (i.e., hammerless) trigger pulls and I’m not a big fan of Tupperware guns (even though my primary carry gun is a Tupperware Smith and Wesson), but I understand the reasons behind Glock’s success, and I understand those reasons even better now that I’ve read Barrett’s book. Trust me on this: If you’re interested in firearms and you want a good read, look no further than Glock. You can thank me later.