Joe Gresh

Day Tripping: Three Rivers

At Tinfiny Ranch it’s been kind of cool this winter. I haven’t been riding motorcycles much at all lately. Zed, the Z1 Kawasaki, needs its float needles changed as it has developed an intermittent incontinence on the far right carburetor. I have to keep turning off the fuel petcock because I don’t trust the carbs to reliably do their carb thing.

The Husky is way overdue for a valve adjustment but I have too many other projects apart and going on to hobble my Italian/Swedish mish-mash motorcycle at the moment. The Husky still runs fine so when Mike, my Eastern Assassin riding buddy texted me photos of his new KTM 390 Adventure bike and said, “The hell with this cold, lets do a little ride and you can check out my new bike,” I was all over it.

Mike rides more dirt than anyone I know. I’ve done thousands of miles of gravel roads with him and I’ve only seen a quarter of the trails he has. His normal trail bike was a 650 BMW single but that bike turned out not so great on rough trails. It’s a heavy, low-slung bike and it tended to fall over a lot. Mike, a reformed street rider, had a Harley Davidson Fat Boy that was gathering dust in his garage so he sold it off and used the proceeds to buy a new KTM 390 Adventure. I’m guessing not many people go from a Fat Boy to a KTM 390. The 390 weighs about 100 pounds less than the 650 BMW and straight-line performance is nearly the same although naturally the 390 spins faster to get the job done.

We met up for coffee and potato chips at a little tourist trap on the corner of Three Rivers and Highway 54. The 390 looks great. It’s very light feeling off the kickstand. The bike came with street tires similar to the crappy tires I run on the Husqvarna. The KTM is a bit high in the saddle but its wide seat is actually lower than the Husky seat. My short legs reach the ground about the same on both bikes.

We rode towards the Sacramento Mountains ending up at the little Santa Nino de Atocha church. While not a religious man, I like earnest churches and old graveyards. Last time I was here my Kawasaki gas tank sprung a leak and I had to hurry home before I ran out of gas. I didn’t have time to check things out properly.

The graves at Santa Nino de Atocha are fairly well maintained. It’s a lonely spot but I believe the church still draws a few congregants from the huge ranches situated all the way to the mountains.

Poor little Sofia never had much of a chance. As I grow older I realize everyday is a gift.

Fancy glass-enclosed Mary (I think, I don’t know my saints)

Raiders fan for all eternity.

Laser-cut steel cross. Very nice metal work.

It gets a little nippy in New Mexico’s winter but the brilliant blue sky warms your soul.

Somebody left the sprinkler on and created an ice fantasy over by the church’s RV camping area.

Mike and I shot the breeze for a while and made grand plans for the rides we will take his new motorcycle on until the temperature started dropping along with the sun. I don’t want to do much night riding anymore so we bundled up and headed back to our little towns on opposite ends of Highway 54 (La Luz and Carrizozo).

It was only a 100-mile ride but I felt recharged when I got home. Mike has managed to put a thousand miles on the KTM in only a few cold weeks. If I don’t hurry and get back to motorcycles he’ll have the thing worn out before I ride again.

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A Slice of Life: ExhaustNotes Injury Review

Here at ExhaustNotes we don’t limit ourselves to giant, 10-bike comparison tests and feature stories describing the joys of motorcycle riding. ExhaustNotes is much more hands-on than those other guys. In this case we were a little too hands-on.

Loyal readers will know this but for you newbies I’ll say it again: I’ve been building stuff around the house and letting the moto-journo aspect of my career flounder. Normally that’s not a problem as I lie about most of the things I write about anyway.

This story starts with a pre-hung door installation on the Sun Porch behind Tinfiny’s Carriage House. Yes, everything at Tinfiny Ranch has a proper name. The door is all glass except for a metal/wood surround to hold the glass and make space for the doorknobs, hinges and bolt.

Being double pane and all glass the door is sort of heavy and as I was lifting it into position I let the door slide slowly down to the floor. I felt warmth on my left wrist but chalked it up to the early stages of Covid infection. Unfortunately I was not as lucky as that. Blood was dripping from a deep cut over my wrist and could see tendons and what I thought was bone. I started freaking out; it was like the scene in Terminator where Arnie peels back his skin to reveal the mechanical parts of his arm. I couldn’t figure out what happened and since I usually faint at the sight of blood I knew I was on borrowed time. I quickly clamped the door to the existing studs and went to the bathroom to throw up.

As it turns out there was a razor sharp piece of metal screwed into the frame of the door, I imagine reinforcing the lock area. This piece of metal was standing proud of the door by about ¼-inch. That’s the bit that cut me.

My new weight loss diet consists of Lemon Heads, a candy that is around 98% pure sugar. I call it The Ferrara diet. What with the sugar rush I wasn’t feeling all that hot before I sliced my arm open. The wound made me even queasier. CT was running around trying to find a bandage to stanch the flow of blood as I sank down onto the bathroom floor in a cold sweat. CT found some paper towels and tape and eventually I felt good enough to walk out to the car.

The ride to the hospital took about ½ hour during which I kept yelling “Yi-Yi-Yi-Yi!”, “Michigan!” and “Whoa Daddy!” to keep my mind off the injury. Our local hospital is undergoing expansion so the emergency room has been relocated between two employee parking lots and miles of temporary fence.

CT pulled up to the front and told me to wait in the car while she got a wheel chair. “Oh hell no!” I said, “I don’t need a wheelchair, this is embarrassing.” We had a brief, ultimately futile argument for me, and out came a hospital guy with a wheelchair.

The hospital guy wheeled me to wait in a hallway where a lady was coughing up Covid viruses the size of Lemon Heads. She answered yes to every Covid-question the nurse asked her. It was like her body was a perfect storm of Covid. The hospital guy wheeled me into another room. “Here’s the guy that cut his wrist,” he told the admitting clerks. What the hell? Now I’m a suicide risk? I said, “Look, let me be clear. I did not try to kill myself, I cut my wrist on a door.” It sounded phony as hell.

Back out in the hallway the old lady was gone but the corona virus cloud was still so dense I could actually see the little bastards tugging at my facemask trying to gain access to my respiratory system.

Enough time had elapsed from the initial injury that I was feeling somewhat cocky. Like maybe I had lain on the bathroom floor just to elevate the injury. Yeah, that’s it. I was even thinking about how good a Lemon Head would taste right about now. I was wheeled into Room 9 and the nurse told me to take off my shirt and put on a hospital gown. I had on mismatched socks.

Dr. Wells came in to examine me. I told him about the door but of course I would say something like that if I were trying to conceal a suicide attempt. He said that it was a nice clean cut and that he would be back later to stitch it up. I took a nap as things seemed under control.

True to his word, Dr. Wells came back and asked me all kinds of questions about my job and boats during which he shot some numbing agent into my wrist area. After a short burning sensation I couldn’t feel a thing. As he sewed me up, it felt like someone tugging on my sleeve. Drugs and a good bedside manner really help.

By this time I felt the crisis was past and I could look at my injured wrist without any nausea. I guess it’s true what they say, time does heal all wounds. CT took me home and my wrist seems ok. Luckily I didn’t cut any tendons or veins. After taking a day off I finished installing the door with CT helping to lift the thing.

On a side note: that piece of sharp metal is gone. I don’t care if it weakens the locking system. Kick the door down for all I care. I’ll have to be more observant with my home projects, turns out it’s safer to ride motorcycles than install doors.

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Product Review: A-iPower, APW2700C Pressure Washer

With all the home projects I’ve been doing lately I haven’t had much time for motorcycle hijinks. Poor Berk is having to carry the blog’s content-load all by himself. While I may not have moto-content I do have a few new toys to review, one of them being the APW2700C pressure washer.

Normally I like electric power for infrequently used power tools and I have a Harbor Freight electric pressure washer that does everything I need it to do with only one hitch. That hitch being the amperage the washer draws is so great it doesn’t like running on a long extension cord. That’s a problem at the Love Shack where the (unpowered) carport is 100 feet from the shack. Pressure washing out there is impossible unless you have a fairly good-sized generator to run the washer.

Another place the electric washer won’t work is on Christine, the MGB GT project as it is a fair distance from the shed at Tinfiny Ranch. I could move the car closer but there is so much rat guano inside I’d rather field clean it where she sits. In anticipation of your next question, ”Why not move one of the 35,000 generators you seem to have stacked at Tinfiny Ranch?” I say that kind of attitude will get you no new tools.

I bought the APW2700C pressure washer because it was cheap, had good reviews and it’s a horizontal crankshaft engine. The vertical crank pressure washers are ok, I guess, but if the high-pressure pump quits the engine is pretty much useless. The horizontal crank prime mover can be repurposed into any number of mini bikes, go-carts or log splitters.

I got mine on sale for around $200 and that’s really cheap compared to the average $350 price tag for a gas-powered washer. Shipping was free also! The quality looks really good with jewel like bits and pieces scattered all over. The unit even came with a quart of oil.

The APW2700C pressure washer is delivered broken down in a smaller box so there are a few parts to assemble. The handle snaps into the frame of the washer and a wand holder bolts on the side. Other than that, connect up the hose, wand and choose a tip and the unit is ready to go.

When the time came to blast the rat poo out of the MGB GT’s engine room the pressure washer started up second pull and ran perfectly. There are three different tips to alter the spray pattern but I’ve only used the wide pattern. The high pressure hose seems plenty long and the machine came with a soap dispenser bottle should you decide to mix detergent with the spray.

I’m happy with the APW2700C pressure washer, and I’m amazed at how good this pressure washer looks for only 200 bucks but since most of my possessions are junk I may have a skewed idea of what good means. The 2700 in the product name refers to the amount of pressure the unit supposedly makes. I have no way of measuring the output pressure but it’s plenty strong. It blew the paint off the MGB’s valve cover but didn’t remove the body color paint on the sides of the engine room.

I’ve got a few more pressure washing jobs for the APW2700C pressure washer and then I’ll drain the fuel until I need it again. I have no idea how long the washer will last but with my home-shop duty cycle it might be years before I find out.

More ExNotes product reviews are here!

Product Review: Evapo-Rust Rust Remover

I’ve used many different types of rust removers in my somewhat futile effort to keep old clunkers on the road. Ospho is okay on metal but not so good on aluminum, cider vinegar is great but very slow working and is acidic but the best one I’ve found is Evapo-Rust.

This fairly large container of Evapo-Rust can be bought online for less per ounce than the local big-box stores. If the stuff weren’t so expensive I’d use it to clean the inside of rusty gas tanks. As it is I can buy a new gas tank for about twice the cost of enough Evapo-Rust to fill the old, rusty tank

I’ve soaked zinc carburetor bodies in Evapo-Rust for a week without eating the soft base material. Rubber parts seem unaffected after a bath in Evapo-Rust. I don’t think it will eat carburetors ever but I haven’t tried it as long as ever. Evapo-Rust cleans the gooey carb residue along with the powdery zinc corrosion equally well. The brass carb parts come out looking like new. I haven’t found any metal the Evapo-Rust won’t clean. I’m sold on the stuff for carbs.

Evapo-Rust is great for chrome or zinc plated nuts and bolts and all the little doo-dads that need de-rusting during a motorcycle restoration. One example is the chrome headlight fork ears on the old Kawasaki 900. They were lightly rusted between the folded parts of the ears and there was no way to get down in there to clean them. A few days soaking in Evapo-Rust saw them nice and clean. After washing the parts with water I give them a shot of oil and they haven’t re-rusted. (Note: I live in New Mexico so rust is not much of a problem out here.)

Like most things in life there are a couple catches: You want to avoid leaving parts in an uncovered container of Evapo-Rust for a month like I did. The Evapo-Rust evaporates down into a thick, dark, almost plastic mass that glues itself to your part and the container. It’s a real chore to pull the part out of the container. The freebased Evapo-Rust is the consistency of really strong taffy candy. That gunk is harder to get off than the original rust! Check your parts every week or so and seal the lid if you can.

Evapo-Rust does not work as well on parts too large to submerge. I tried it on some rusty corrugated roof panels. Following Evapo-Rust instructions I soaked rags with the product and laid the wet rags on the rusty spots. Then I covered the rags with a large sheet of plastic to keep the area moist. After a couple days the rags were stuck to the roofing. I used water and elbow grease to pull the rags off. The rust was somewhat cleaned up but I think regular Ospho works better on large surfaces.

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Resurrections: 1974 MGB-GT Part 3 “Christine”

In between pouring slabs of concrete inside the shed I managed to get started on the MGB rat poo clean up. Several more doses of bleach were splashed around the interior of the car and wearing gloves and a N100 mask I started hauling junk out into New Mexico’s bright, November Sunshine. I’m hoping the Sun’s radiation will partially sterilize the hanta-contaminated bits.

And what a collection of bits! A cylinder head with the valves installed upside down along with a complete rocker assembly is the big score. I haven’t found any valve springs to go with the head but I’m guessing you can still buy those parts.

I wonder if my GT had the head replaced at some point and these are the old pieces or maybe the engine is shot and these were planned replacements? We will have to find out later because the owner died before he could finish the GT project. If you’ve ever read Steven King’s Christine you’ll have a good idea of the eerie vibe that comes from linking together the abandoned logic chain of a dead man’s life.

A real oddity is the front engine plate. These never go bad so why would an extra plate be under 6-inches of rat guano? I also dug out a tiny clutch and pressure plate that I assume fits the GT. I found several pulleys that look like they belong on a water pump and a harmonic balancer.

Two more wheels were inside, giving me 6 total. The extra wheels will come in handy as some of the tires are dry rotted and won’t hold air. I like the pressed metal Rostyle wheels, they look very mid-1970’s and are both strong and simple. Having been stored inside the car the extras are less rotted and should inflate enough to move the car from its sunken grave.

Included in the haul of parts are two carburetor heat shields, an intake manifold and a rocker cover. There’s a piece to the transmission that the shifter connects to and another shifter stick. I’ll have to get under the car to see if the transmission is all there. Then there’s the crankcase breather that bolts onto the side of the engine.

Under the back floor is a well to hold the spare tire. These tire changing chocks and emergency reflectors were nestled next to the spare. I wonder if they are original equipment?

A snazzy 1-into-2 tail pipe with muffler was inside the car also. The car was full of junk but the front seat area is relatively clear, if you don’t mind sitting in rat poo.

Christine’s original owner included three straight, non-rusted wheel trim rings with his Devil’s deal. I’m totally set for wheels now.

The funny part about all this junk is that the engine in Christine looks to be all there. Maybe the thing was rebuilt and the junk is leftovers. I can’t say, but it looks like I have plenty of parts. I have another plastic box of GT stuff still to look through. I saw a Weber carb in there and some other items of interest that we will get to later on in this resurrection.

Check out the earlier installments of the MGB GT resurrection!

Upon Further Reflection: 2020 Go-Bowen Fit Right DB003 40cc Mini Bike

When I first opened the packing on the Go-Bowen mini bike I was impressed by the quality look of the little green monster. That first impression has taken a bit of a hit as I ran into quality control issues with the Go-Bowen mostly relating to the back wheel. (So far, that is.)

The little mini came from the factory with the chain adjusted ridiculously tight. The mini would hardly roll. I loosened axle and took a few turns off the nicely made chain adjusters and all seemed well. I drained the factory engine oil and replaced it with a high grade of store brand stuff and dumped a few ounces of fuel into the gas tank.

Starting the mini was very easy. There is a primer bulb under the carburetor and a few semi-erotic squeezes later I could see the fuel flow into the clear gas lines. A bit of choke, a few easy pulls and the mini was running like it was made to run. For only 1.4 horsepower the mini has a get-go feeling. The idle was set high so I took a few turns off the idle screw. I took a hot lap of Tinfiny’s upper reaches when the chain flew off.

This was odd because I didn’t loosen the thing all that much. I pushed it back to the shop and had a look see. Turns out the axle adjusting slots are not indexed the same and to center the rear wheel in the frame you end up with the axle cocked in the adjusters.

Once I had the chain running true I noticed the rear brake caliper wiggling alarmingly. A severely wobbling disc rotor caused that problem. The thing is like 3/16” out of true. It looks as if the flange is machined wrong or the disc itself is bent. I haven’t gone any further into the disc problem yet.

The mini rides fine once you get the chain to stay on and if the thing had any more power you’d probably flip over backwards. There is a heck of a lot of noise coming from the primary chain housing so I’ll have to look inside to see what gives.

The exhaust pipe on the Go-Bowen exits directly on the rear brake cable. I will need to rig some sort of turn out to redirect the hot gasses but for now I slipped a short piece of silicone heat shielding over the cable for protection.

It was a disappointing first run with the Go-Bowen. I will work on the disc and the noisy primary situation when I get time. Even with the issues the mini still seems like it’s worth the $299 with shipping included but you’ll need to budget a few hours going over the set up fixing shoddy assembly from the factory before any long distance travel is attempted. It’s like they built a nice mini bike then had their stupidest employees assemble the thing. More will be forthcoming after repairs when I get a chance to road test the mini in true ExhaustNotes.us fashion.

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The 5 Stupidest Ideas in Motorcycling

We don’t do many listicals here at ExhaustNotes.us. Editorial policy frowns on the cheap, easy list as a lazy man’s way to get attention. However, that doesn’t mean we are completely immune to the meth-like attraction of lists. The thing is, click-bait lists are nearly impossible to get right. Whatever harebrained idea you’ve thought of to generate more clicks, and hopefully shares, will be blown out of the water in the comments section by people much, much smarter than you. And that’s ok, that’s why listicals are so popular. It’s a way to piss people off and generate interest.

Number 1: ABS Brakes

I don’t know which lawyer came up with the idea, but it had to be a lawyer. Full-time Antilock Brake Systems are the single most dangerous feature on modern motorcycles. Just a month ago my buddy forgot to disarm his BMW’s antilock system after a trailside nap. (The BMW system defaults to “on” whenever you shut off the bike.) After we started riding again the trail turned steeply downhill. The steepness of the descent meant that rain washed away any fine sands and left behind large rocks and boulders. His BMW rolled and rolled. All attempts at braking were futile and so naturally he crashed. The bike was basically freewheeling down a rocky hill. At least his BMW had the option to opt out of ABS.

There’s no sicker feeling than panic stomping on the brakes and nothing happens. Any motorcycle that even slightly hints at off road capability should come with a means of disabling the ABS. For that matter practically every street bike has been known to travel a dirt road or two so really all motorcycles should come with the ability to disarm the ABS. These aren’t cars we’re talking about here. Many occasions call for a motorcycle rider to lock up the rear wheel and sometimes (like on that rocky downhill) lock up the front wheel.

Number 2: Keyless Ignitions

Those electronic key fobs are a stupid solution to a problem nobody had. What is wrong with a plain old key? You know, the kind you can have a duplicate made almost anywhere? The stupid electronic-proximity widgets are huge, like the size of a Krispy Kreme doughnut. They are bulky in your pocket and you’ve got to keep a good battery in them just to start your bike! God help you if you ever lose the thing. It will require a dealer’s services and several hundred dollars to program your new Kreme.

Most times I’ve ridden a bike that came with a clunky electronic key fob I ended up leaving the thing in the saddlebag or hidden on the bike somewhere. This defeats the purpose of having any sort of lock on your motorcycle at all but I’d rather have the bike stolen than carry that stupid key fob. I suspect the real reason for the electronic key fob is to allow constant surveillance at the factory level. Didn’t make that latest payment? No problem we’ll disable your ride until you cough up the cash, Highway Rebel!

Number 3: Helmet Communicators

These silly devices allow passenger to operator conversation or communication between groups of riders. Precisely the thing you’re trying to get away from when you ride a motorcycle. Look, if I want to know what you’re thinking, which I don’t, I’ll wave you to a stop and we will discuss it hand to hand. The advertisements for these Zen-terrupters tout range and clarity as if those are aspirational goals. I might buy a set if the manufacturer promised me the damn things would never work.

Some of you find pleasure in the constant road-chatter. Not me, I want you to keep your thoughts to yourself and I’ll do the same. Some of you think that communication devices are a good way to warn back markers about road conditions. That assumes anyone will actually believe you after that last bone-headed move you pulled leaving the Waffle House. Then I’m told they are good for keeping the group together so that stragglers won’t get lost. Has it ever occurred to these pro-communication, Chatty Cathy’s that the stragglers want to get lost? That maybe they are sick of your yapping about fence posts, tar snakes and how you want everyone to stop because you have to pee. Aren’t you old enough to go to the bathroom alone?

Some of my most memorable group-ride dinnertime discussions have been a result of the group breaking up, missing turns, getting lost and arriving at the restaurant with wild stories to tell. That won’t happen if everyone has had the exact same experience. “Did you see the size of that buck?” is met with a flat-toned chorus, “Yes, we all heard over the radio and saw the buck.” rather than “No, but the hitch hikers we picked up when we made that wrong turn robbed us at gunpoint and then Phil ran off with the redhead.” Remember, the best part of riding in a group is being alone.

Number 4: Entertainment Systems

This includes stupid Bluetooth, interconnecting phone features, stupid music systems and stupid, play-pretty graphics that distract a motorcyclist from the main job at hand: staying alive. Riding a motorcycle is dangerous enough without the rider fiddling around with the dash display on his motorcycle. Engine RPM and velocity, along with distance traveled is all the data you need to correctly operate a motorcycle. Page after page of bright, TFT-BS will only make you worry about the minor fluctuations any mechanical device goes through in the normal prosecution of its job.

No one ever cared about their tire pressures until those TPS systems polluted the instrument panels of America. Now it’s like everyone is running Moto GP and 1 psi really matters. Stop it! And if your idea of a fun motorcycle ride is playing with the stereo and poking your thumb at 45 different handlebar buttons maybe you should quit changing the display settings and just stay at home with your younger brother’s Nintendo. The one your parents made him put down in the basement so the noise won’t bother your mom’s overly sensitive ears. Doesn’t it seem like the older she gets the more sound annoys her?

Number 5: One-Piece Riding Suits on the Street

I know some riders swear by one-piece suits but don’t take their opinion on the subject, take mine. I had a one-piece leather suit 43 years ago and the trauma from that experience still haunts me. Many a night I wake up in a cold sweat having to use the restroom but mentally stuck inside a one-piece suit. I can see road racers wearing one piece suits for the extra protection they afford during high-speed get-offs. If you’re riding your street bike anything like a Moto GP star you should probably not be riding on the street. Sure, they look great in website road test photos but those guys are only riding the bike for 15 minutes at a time. As soon as the camera stops clicking they peel that crap off toot-sweet.

For normal, everyday riding a one-piece suit is incredibly inconvenient. There are only a few things more disgusting than using a filthy, urine-soaked gas station toilet and one of them is using a filthy, urine-soaked gas station toilet while wearing a one-piece riding suit. Once you wiggle out of the top and drop your drawers you’ll soon realize that there is not enough space between the lip of the toilet and the urine-soaked floor for all that material. It’s like trying to corral your parachute in France after you’ve landed behind enemy lines on June 6th, 1944. Ok, I have no idea what that’s really like but you kind of sit there holding the bag: Practice hovering if you simply must mimic Marc Marquez on your Honda Blah.

I have more stupid motorcycle things, many more, but 5 is a good number to stop at. I mean, I may have to test some of these stupid motorcycle ideas and I don’t want to use up all my outrage in one story.

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Dream Bike: Ossa Pioneer

The styling of the 250cc Ossa Pioneer is what attracted me to the bike in the first place. I loved the old-fashioned, pin-striped black panels over the orange base. It was like some sort of cheerful, horse drawn funeral wagon. That cool rear fender extension gave the bike a flat track look that I have been a sucker for since forever.

The Spanish built Ossa’s bodywork was fiberglass, the original miracle plastic that many manufacturers used back in the late 1960s and 1970s. Unfortunately, modern alcohol laced fuel plays hell with fiberglass so the use of the miracle plastic has faded. Rotocast, alcohol resistant, poly-some-such-crap has taken its place. The new stuff is not without its problems as I’ve had fuel tanks that were exposed to sunlight crumble into dust. (Don’t leave your weed whacker in the back of a pickup truck for 6 months.) I’m assuming that problem has been fixed because the IMS rotocast tank on the Husky has held up fine for 5 years.

The Ossa was similar in construction to a Bultaco but where there were four or five Bultacos running around the town where I grew up there were no Ossas. So maybe rarity has something to do with my fascination with the brand.

The cycle magazines of that era praised the Ossa for its handling and generally good off road manners. One road tester stuck a spare plug in the Ossa’s fiberglass rear fender storage area and then complained when the loose plug beat a hole in the compartment…after riding trails. Even as a young whippersnapper I knew you couldn’t let stuff bounce around on a dirt bike. I felt the Ossa name was sullied for no good reason and if it was me that did something so stupid (and I have) I would have kept quiet about the situation.

I saw a Pioneer race motocross out at Haney Town a long time ago. Tuned softer than a MX engine, the Ossa grunted around the track fairly well. The rider was talented in the art of crossing-up and wasted valuable energy and time showboating over each jump. Still, it had the desired effect. I wanted an Ossa bad.

Ossa prices are still very reasonable as they are still not popular. A couple grand should get a fairly clean runner and that’s some cheap vintage dirt riding my brothers. The bikes are easy to fix and I’m sure you could order any part need from some hole-in–the–wall bike shop over in Spain. Just remember to use non-ethanol fuel or your gas tank will turn mushy inside.

Later Pioneers, called Super Pioneers, were styled in a more modern fashion and don’t tug at my heart like the old ones. I guess it’s a little odd to want a motorcycle that you’ve never ridden and only seen one running many years ago at a motocross race. Stranger still is my defense of the Pioneer’s rear fender compartment, but that’s the way love works. It sinks its hooks into you and the pain never subsides. You never forget your first Ossa and one of these days I’ll have my very own Ossa Pioneer.

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Hasty Conclusions: 2020 Go-Bowen Fit Right DB003 40cc Mini Bike

I keep hearing a complaints about Globalism. People are talking. Some folks don’t like the idea of making the world’s population one homogenous group of consumer/aphids to be milked by evil corporations. I get that and it bothers me that a mini bike that cost $250 dollars in 1970 now costs only $44 adjusted for dollar devaluation. That’s right, this Fit Right Chinese-built mini bike costs less in real dollars than a really long, long-distance telephone call did in 1970.

In some ways that old 1970 mini bike was better. It had a couple more horses than the DB003’s 1 horsepower. It was made in the USA, which helped support local businesses. I think the fit and finish on the Fit Right DB003 is at least as good or better than an average vintage mini, maybe not as good as a Rupp but then nothing was as good as a Rupp. As far as reliability goes, those flathead, loop framed, scrub-braked minis were not a vehicle you could ever assume you’d get back home on. Time will tell if the Fit Right holds up.

I’m in the middle of a back porch remodel so I only have time to do a short review on what I’ve found unboxing the Fit Right. A more thorough road test and video will be forthcoming.

The Fit Right DB003 comes fairly well packed in bubble wrap and then molded Styrofoam all stuffed inside a heavy cardboard box. The cardboard is thick and strong, it’s too good to throw away. I’ll be using it for a working pad to cover the dirt and ants while tinkering under the MBG-GT. Even though the mini was packaged well a ragged hole was punched into the side and parts were rattling around.

Once out of the packaging the Fit Right mini comes fully assembled except for the handlebars. It only took a few minutes to install the bars after a few hours searching for a 10mm socket. The bars are held on by four bolts/nuts and one of the nuts had gone missing. It probably fell out of the hole. Luckily I had a spare 8mm locknut left over from a roof rack installation.

The fit and finish on this $299 (shipping included!) Fit Right mini bike are pretty good. The graphics on the plastic gas tank cover are molded in so you won’t have any cheap, stick-on labels peeling off. The real gas tank under the plastic is made of steel. One odd thing is that there are no steering stops: the forks bang into the gas tank at full lock. This mini bike is smaller than usual; I’ll need to rig some bar-risers to clear my knees.

The Fit Right Model 139F, 40cc, overhead valve engine is jewel-like. Its castings look smooth and there is no rough mold flashing at the edges. The frame is fairly complex design with a lot of tubes and angles that don’t seem to make any sense. I suspect the stylists threw a couple extra pipes in the mix to make the mini look cool. Welds are pretty good, much better than I can do. The Fit Right even has folding foot pegs, a rare feature on the old mini bikes.

Unusual for such an economy mini motorcycle the Fit Right came with a flimsy but usable tool kit, something lacking on a $40,000 Harley-Davidson. For $299 you can’t expect Japanese-level quality, however I’m satisfied with the DB003’s presentation and the easy assumption of owner-provided care.

There are some interesting things on this bike that I need to look into later. For instance the fuel tank has a return line and a feed line but no fuel shut off. The engine has a fuel pump because in stationary-engine uses the fuel tank mounts below the carburetor. The carb itself is odd looking. It may be a diaphragm type carb like on a chain saw. The drive train is double reduction and I’ve just got to know what is under the nifty cast aluminum primary cover. The rear brake is a mechanical disc, which is a huge improvement over the old-fashioned scrub brake that simply rubbed on the tire. I don’t like that the hot exhaust exits directly onto the brake cable. I need to turn the exhaust tip more downwards.

The Fit Right DB003 is quite a bit more sophisticated than your traditional double-loop mini of days gone by. Whether this added sophistication equates to better performance remains to be seen. As soon as I get time I’ll get the mini running and ExhaustNotes.us will have performance numbers and a riding impression.

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ExhaustNotes Road Test: Triumph Scrambler vs. Moto Guzzi Happy Meal

ExhaustNotes prides itself on our thorough reviews. We are not like those lame, ex-paper-magazine websites that actually have the product to hand. At ExNotes we are so professional, so talented in the art of bedazzlery we don’t need to see the review subject to make a good job of it. Which makes this 2-bike comparo an outlier in that I actually rode both these bikes back to back for 10 minutes. That’s more than enough time for me to reach an erroneous conclusion.

The Triumph Scrambler and Moto Guzzi TT850 in this comparo belonged to ExNotes buddies Robert and Phillip, who stopped by for Tinfiny Ranch’s annual West Side Road Rally. The West Side Road Rally is an invitation-only off-road adventure similar to the Colorado 500 except with 470 fewer miles.

The first thing you notice about these big, heavy ADV bikes is how big and heavy they are. They’re even heavy for a street bike. The Triumph seems a wee bit smaller than the Guzzi but from the saddle feels a bit heavier. I didn’t weigh the motorcycles on ExNotes’ USDA-calibrated scale because I don’t want to unduly influence your opinion of either bike with verified facts.

The Guzzi was new, as-delivered stock and it felt softly sprung. I didn’t try adjusting anything because unless a motorcycle is weaving out of control I really don’t care about suspension. In a perfect world we’d all be riding hardtails. The non-Paralever shaft drive gently lifted the rear of the bike under acceleration but it was so smooth and quiet no one noticed. In general the Moto Guzzi behaved like a faster, tighter version of the last Moto Guzzi I rode: a mid 1970’s Eldorado 750.

Suspension on the rear of the TT is a single right-side shock while the industry standard upside down forks hold up the front end. The suspension was so unobtrusive I never bothered to look for who built them. A brace of shut-off-able-ABS disc brakes did a fine job of slowing the weight down. I found the Moto Guzzi a tad bit boring. At 850cc the power was not overwhelming or delivered in any way that could be described as exciting. Maybe a loud, life saving exhaust system would add a sense of urgency to the motorcycle. As is, I think it would make a great long distance touring bike for the asphalt.

Phillip’s Triumph was also new but had been lowered by using shorter twin shocks. It had upside down forks and disc brakes were bolted on all over the place. The triumph at 1200cc felt much stronger than the Guzzi everywhere. The torque was enjoyable as I could leave the bike in top gear through the twisty mountain roads above Alamogordo, New Mexico. Riding the Guzzi I had to row the gearbox a bit.

Everything about the Triumph was harsher than the Guzzi. The suspension felt shorter and stiffer, the seat was harder and smaller, even the Triumph’s cycle parts seemed dangerous, like they were ready to cut you or burn you. So of course I liked it a lot better than the Guzzi. Unlike the Guzzi’s bright display the instrument display on the Triumph was invisible looking through a dark face shield but it didn’t matter as the important stuff was happening between my legs and on the road ahead. I don’t spend much time looking at gauges when I ride a motorcycle.

It’s interesting how these two motorcycles have a corporate-family feel that can be traced back to their earlier models. The Triumph was harsh like my old 750 Triumph. The Guzzi was slushy like that 1970’s Eldorado I rode 40 years ago. The new versions are modern, faster and more refined but the relative feel of the bikes remains unchanged. That old personality is still there.

And that’s why you buy a motorcycle: to feel. Motorcycles are not appliances, something Honda has forgotten. Both these bikes are aiming at the same ADV target audience but their differences and imperfections make them enjoyable. I liked the styling and rorty-ness of the Triumph best and could see buying one if I had any money. The Guzzi was a good bike, better functionally than the Triumph but it didn’t light any fires in me. If I’m going to risk my life on a motorcycle I want the bike to be involved in the process. Even though they look the business, I wouldn’t take either one of these motorcycles off road. The bikes are simply too big and heavy for me to enjoy on dirt.

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