Another favorite photo, and as you can see, it’s a bit unusual. This was a young chimp in the Guangzhou zoo about a dozen years ago. I was there on a secret mission and we wanted to do something on the weekend. One of my Chinese contacts told me there were two zoos in Guangzhou…the big one and the little one. The big one was outside the city limits and the little one was in the center of town, so we opted to stay in town. I didn’t think the zoo was little at all (it was at least as big as the LA zoo), and I caught a lot of great photos there. This one was of a young chimp who seemed as interested in us as we were in him.
The photo makes it look like the chimp is just about to take something (or maybe give something) to the young lady reaching out to him. I had my old Nikon D200 and the similar-era Nikkor 24-120 lens (two boat anchors, to be sure, but they worked well), along with a cheap polarizer that eliminated reflections. There was a piece of inch-thick plexiglass between us and the chimp, and I took a bunch of photos playing with the polarizer and my position to get the angle right so the glass barrier would disappear. I think I succeeded.
Two earlier favorite photos, one in Bangkok and the other in Death Valley. You can click on either to get to the story that goes with each.
That photo above is greatly enlarged and that’s why the resolution is a bit on the low side…it’s taken from a video Susie captured of our resident bobcat. You read that correctly…we have a bobcat that hangs around our neighborhood. We see him (or her) regularly. Sue caught Bob (or Bobbi) on video a few days ago:
We frequently see interesting wildlife here in So Cal. Bob is one of our more interesting sightings.
Like you, I’ve seen a variety of wildlife on my motorcycle trips. There was a herd of an estimated 100 deer early one freezing morning in Montana on the Three Flags ride back in 2005. I had a close encounter of the scary kind with a gigantic bison on the Western America Adventure Ride about 6 years ago in Yellowstone. Baja John and I were charged by an errant tarantula in Baja in 2009. A bear ran across the road in front of us on the RX3s in the San Gabriel Mountains right here in California. How about you? Have you had any interesting encounters you’d care to share with us? Just leave a comment here on the ExhaustNotes blog!
I had a tough time choosing a title for this blog. I went with what you see above because it reminds me of one of my favorite Dad jokes…you know, the one about how you tell the difference between a crocodile and an alligator. If you don’t see it for a while, it’s a crocodile. If you see it later, well, then it’s a gator. The other choice might have been the old United Negro College Fund pitch: A Mine is a Terrible Thing to Waste. But if I went with that one I might be called a racist, which seems to be the default response these days anytime anyone disagrees with me about anything.
Gresh likes hearing my war stories. Not combat stories, but stories about the defense industry. I never thought they were all that interesting, but Gresh is easily entertained and he’s a good traveling buddy, so I indulge him on occasion. Real war stories…you know how you can tell them from fairy tales? A fairy tale starts out with “once upon a time.” A war story starts out with “this is no shit, you guys…”
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So, this is a “no shit” story. It sounds incredible, but it’s all true. I was an engineer at Aerojet Ordnance, and I made my bones analyzing cluster bomb failures. They tell me I’m pretty good at it (I wrote a book about failure analysis, I still teach industry and gubmint guys how to analyze complex systems failures, and I sometimes work as an expert witness in this area). It pays the rent and then some.
So this deal was on the Gator mine system, which was a real camel (you know, a horse designed by a committee). The Gator mine system was a Tri-Service program (three services…the Army, the Navy, and the Air Force). It was officially known as the CBU-89/B cluster munition (CBU stands for Cluster Bomb Unit). The way it worked is instead of having to go out and place the mines manually, an airplane could fly in and drop a couple of these things, the bombs would open on the way down and dispense their mines (each cluster bomb contained 94 mines), the mines would arm, and voila, you had a minefield. Just like that.
It sounds cool, but the Gator was a 20-year-old turkey that couldn’t pass the first article test (you had to build two complete systems and the Air Force would drop them…if the mines worked at a satisfactory level, you could start production). The UNCF slogan notwithstanding, the folks who had tried to take this Tri-Service camel and build it to the government’s design wasted a lot of mines. In 20 years, several defense contractors had taken Gator production contracts, and every one of them failed the first article flight test. When my boss’s boss decided we would bid it at Aerojet, I knew two things: We, too, would fail the first article flight test, and it would end up in my lap. I was right on both counts. We built the flight test units per the government design and just like every one else, we failed with a disappointing 50% mine function rate. And I got the call to investigate why.
So, let’s back up a couple of centuries. You know, we in the US get a lot of credit for pioneering mass production. Rightly so, I think, but most folks are ignorant about what made it possible. Nope, it wasn’t Henry Ford and his Model T assembly line. It was something far more subtle, and that’s the concept of parts interchangeability. Until parts interchangeability came along (which happened about a hundred years before old Henry did his thing), you couldn’t mass produce anything. And to make parts interchangeable, you had to have two numbers for every part dimension: The nominal dimension, and a tolerance around that dimension. When we say we have a 19-inch wheel, for example, that’s the nominal dimension. There’s also a ± tolerance (that’s read plus or minus) associated with that 19-inch dimension. If the wheel diameter tolerance was ±0.005 inches, the wheel might be anywhere from 18.995 to 19.005 inches. Some tolerances are a simple ± number, others are a + something and a – something if the tolerance band is not uniform (like you see in the drawing below). But everything has a tolerance because you can’t always make parts exactly to the nominal dimension.
Where companies get sloppy is they do a lousy job assigning tolerances to nominal dimensions, and they do an even worse job analyzing the effects of the tolerances when parts are built at the tolerance extremes. Analyzing these effects is called tolerance analysis. Surprisingly, most engineering schools don’t teach it, and perhaps not so surprisingly, most companies don’t do it. All this has been a very good thing for me, because I get to make a lot of money analyzing the failures this kind of engineering negligence causes. In fact, the cover photo on my failure analysis book is an x-ray of an aircraft emergency egress system that failed because of negligent tolerancing (which killed two Navy pilots when their aircraft caught fire).
I don’t think people consciously think about this and decide they don’t need to do tolerance analysis. I think they don’t do it because it is expensive and in many cases their engineers do not have the necessary skills. At least, they don’t do it initially. In production, when they have failures some companies are smart enough to return to the tolerancing issue. That’s when they do the tolerance analysis they should have done during the design phase, and they find they have tolerance accumulations that can cause a problem.
Anyway, back to the Gator mine system. The Gator system had a dispenser (a canister) designed by the Air Force, the mines were designed by the Army, and the system had an interface kit designed by the Navy. Why they did it this way, I have no idea. It was about as dumb an approach for a development program as I have ever seen. Your tax dollars at work, I guess.
The Navy’s Gator interface kit positioned the mines within the dispenser and sent an electronic pulse from the dispenser to the mines when it was time to start the mine arming sequence. This signal went from coils in the interface kit to matching coils in each mine (there was no direct connection; the electric pulse passed from the interface kit coils to the mine coils). You can see these coils in the photo below (they are the copper things).
In our first article flight test at Eglin Air Force Base, only about 50% of the mines worked. That was weird, because when we tested the mines one at a time, they always worked. I had a pretty good feeling that the mines weren’t getting the arming signal. The Army liked that concept a lot (they had design responsibility for the mines), but the Air Force and the Navy were eyeing me the way a chicken might view Colonel Sanders.
I started asking questions about the tolerancing in the Navy’s part of the design, because I thought if the coils were not centered directly adjacent to the matching coils in each mine, the arming signal wouldn’t make it to the mine. The Navy, you see, had the responsibility for the stuffing that held the mines in place and for the coils that brought the arming signal to the mines.
At a big meeting with the engineering high rollers from all three services, I floated this idea of coil misalignment due to tolerance accumulation. The Navy guy basically went berserk and told me it could never happen. His reaction was so extreme I knew I had to be on to something (in a Shakespearian methinks the lady doth protest too much sort of way). At this point, both the Army and Air Force guys were smiling. The Navy guy was staring daggers at me. You could almost see smoke coming out his ears. He was a worm, I was the hook, and we were going fishing. And we both knew it.
I asked the Navy engineer directly how much misalignment would prevent signal transmission, he kept telling me it couldn’t happen, and I kept pressing for a number: How much coil misalignment would it take? Finally, the Navy dude told me there would have to be at least a quarter of an inch misalignment between the Navy coils and those in the mine. I don’t think he really knew, but he was throwing out a number to make it look like he did. At that point, I was pretty sure I had him. I looked at my engineering design manager and he left the room. Why? To do a tolerance analysis, of course. Ten minutes later he was back with the numbers that showed the Navy’s interface kit tolerances could allow way more than a quarter inch of misalignment.
When I shared that with the guys in our Tri-Service camel committee, the Navy guy visibly deflated. His 20-year secret was out. The Army and the Air Force loved it (they both hated the Navy, and they really hated the Navy engineer).
We tightened the tolerances in our production and built two more cluster bombs. I was at the load plant to oversee the load, assemble, and pack operation, and when we flight tested my two cluster bombs with live drops from an F-16 we had a 100% mine function rate (which had never been achieved before). That allowed us to go into production and we made a ton of money on the Gator program. I’m guessing that Navy weasel still hates me.
It’s hard to believe this kind of stuff goes on, but it does. I’ve got lots of stories with similar tolerance-induced recurring failures, and maybe I’ll share another one or two here at some point. Ask me about the Apache main rotor blade failures sometime…that’s another good one.
That Seiko watch you see on the right, known informally as “The Panda” in watch collector circles, is perhaps the best watch I’ve ever owned. I bought it at the Kunsan AFB Base Exchange when I was a young Army dude in 1975 for the princely sum of $76, which was a bit of a stretch for me. Oh, I had the bucks. The Army didn’t pay us much, but we didn’t have expenses, either, so $76 was eminently doable. In fact, I bought Seiko stainless steel chronographs from the Base Exchange for my Dad and my grandfather, too. Their watches were only $67, but the Panda had the day and the date on the face, and three timing features: Seconds on the main watch face, minutes on the lower subdial, and hours on the upper subdial. It was a beautiful thing and it was all mechanical. I wore it for about 10 years, and then when Ebay started to get popular I auctioned it away. I was quite pleased with the results. The watch that originally set me back $76 went for just north of $200 on Ebay 30 years ago. Today, though, that same watch brings around $2000. I sold too soon. Go figure.
Anyway, being the watch junkie that I am, I was more than a little intrigued by a very similar watch now being offered by Breitling. It is also an all mechanical watch Breitling calls the “Premier.”
I’d call it a Panda, and I’d sure like to own one. But the Breitling MSRP is a lofty $8500. They are just over $6,000 on Amazon, but that’s still way above my pay grade.
In poking around on the Internet looking at the Breitlings, I learned that they offer several versions of their Premier. One is a model that pays tribute to the Norton motorcycle, which has different colors, old school numbers on the face, and a band that, frankly, looks cheap to me. The colors don’t really work for me, either, but maybe that’s because I want my Panda to look like a panda. If I wanted a Norton motorcycle, I’d buy a Norton.
Seiko is back on the Panda wagon, too, as is Citizen and perhaps others with modern versions of this classic watch design. Their prices are way more reasonable, too, being in the $200 to $300 range. But the new Seiko and Citizen Pandas are solar-powered quartz watches.
There’s nothing wrong with electric watches (in fact, their accuracy is astounding), but I’m a mechanical guy. I own a few solar watches and several battery-powered watches. I like them all. But there’s a certain cachet (a fancy word for cool) associated with a mechanical watch, even if you give up a little accuracy. I would like to wear that Breitling just to pretend I’m still a yuppie, but it’s not gonna happen.
About a mile west of New Mexico’s Spaceport is a newly paved road, A013. The road runs south from Armendaris Ranch in Engle to Interstate 25. A013 is about 40 miles long and while the paving is sort of new the road roughly follows The Camino Real, a route from Old Mexico to Santa Fe that has been in use since 1598. There are marked areas where you can hike along the very same ancient road the Spaniards retreated back to Mexico on during the Pueblo Revolt. A013 does not sound nearly as cool as The Camino Real. At 420 years old, The Royal Road deserves something better than A013.
Railroad tracks closely parallel the west side of A013 and in the narrow area between the railroad tracks and the highway hundreds of cars and people have gathered near the blocked entrance that leads to Spaceport. We’re all here to watch the very first space tourism rocket blast into the sky and it’s as close as we can get to the action. Who is the first space tourist on Virgin Galactic? Astronaut 001, Richard Branson.
Spaceport from our vantage point between the railroad tracks and barbed wire. Normally you can get much closer.
In a huge public relations mix up, none of the staff at ExhaustNotes were invited along for the ride into space. It’s like Virgin Galactic has been talking with Harley-Davidson or something. No matter, you know how we operate here at ExhaustNotes: We review anything, even things we know nothing about. There were plenty of other celebrity types in attendance like Elon Musk. Also some music industry, TV and TicToc stars I have never heard of. Lots of vindicated-feeling bigwigs from New Mexico’s government were in attendance as Spaceport has been a political football since Day One.
CT and I situated our Space Watch Compound along the fence line with our cooler full of iced tea and La Croix fizzy drinks, folding chairs, hats and a large, porous ground cloth. We were the most organized people in the scrum. The sky was early-morning New Mexican: A pale blue color that washes away into the bright sun leaving you hopelessly in love with the place. Last night a storm came through the area making everything seem to sparkle. Temperature in the Chihuahuan Desert was in the low 80s and it was still only 7:00 am.
We had fairly good cell phone coverage so CT pulled up the live feed. There were several sources all seeming to use the same video. Oddly, Steven Colbert hosted the launch coverage. I like Colbert okay but I wouldn’t have used him in this situation. It kind of made the event more like a joke instead of the historic, high technology, dangerous business that it actually is. The TicToc chick surprised me in that she did a pretty good job with the fluff pieces. Hell, what am I saying, all of it was fluff pieces.
The nearly two-generation gap between Musk and Branson was obvious when it came to social media. Even with all the advancements in video and audio technology Branson’s feed was poorly done. The video and audio looked pretty bad when you’re used to counting the screw heads holding the display panels to the command module in a SpaceX launch. Most of the stuff was 2 to 3 minutes delayed and unwatchable. The moon landing in 1969 had clearer shots and audio. I swear, my iPhone would have done better. If I had known it was going to be so bad I would have handed my phone to Branson before he went up. Maybe the recorded stuff came out better.
Heavy lifting appears to flex Eve’s wings on the way up.
None of that mattered once Eve lifted off the runway with Unity strapped firmly between its dual fuselages. A loud roar of cheers went up from all of us along the fence line. The big dually flew northwest towards Albuquerque and climbed to 45,000 feet. We could see the exact moment the Unity dropped and lit off its rocket engine. A white contrail of rocket exhaust went straight up and out of sight. On Virgin’s feed TicToc chick was saying they were going to release Unity in 2 minutes, 30 seconds.
More cheering followed Unity’s escape into space. People were shaking hands and whistling. We were glad the launch went well and nobody was bitching about rich people not using their money to feed the poor. Branson was the first billionaire in space and it had been a 17-year quest for him.
Pretty much nothing happened for a while. We expected the mother ship to come down and land but it stayed aloft. I’m guessing with only one runway at Spaceport you wouldn’t want anything landing until the powerless Unity glided back down to earth. The mother ship can go land somewhere else if need be.
Finally we caught sight of Unity coming home. It flew right over our cheap seats, circled east, then north and came in for a perfect landing, heading 340, Runway 1. The sounds of cars starting and cheering mixed with the dust from exiting spectators. I was thinking where are they going? The mother ship is still up there!
Where is it? I kept asking CT. It’s right there, she told me. I can’t see it. I guess my other eye needs a rebuild now. The mother ship spiraled down using the same counterclockwise pattern Unity used. She flew directly overhead, her barren space-socket exposed.
And then it was over. We looked around. There was only one other car still parked between the fence and the railroad. Billions of dollars and nearly two decades of work by thousands of people were on display today. It all worked perfectly. That stuff is amazing to me. Soon you’ll be able to buy your own ride into space for the price of a couple well-appointed diesel pickup trucks. $250,000 is not that much money nowadays.
Branson’s space plane may not go as high as the Space Station but I bet it uses 10% of the fuel a normal rocket launch does. Human beings are pretty impressive when they stop being jerks. Many people get angry at rich people for not saving the world with their money and then when a rich guy tries, like Gates, we suspect them of implanting tracking chips for a reason no one sane can articulate. The thing is, we are so clueless, so in the dark, we can’t guess the real world innovations that will come with space travel.
A man and his dog started packing up. He had one of those 10-foot sunshades. I asked him if he needed a hand folding it up. He said no that it was easy to do. The space show was over. The dust from all the spectator cars settled back to the Chihuahuan Desert. A guy named Kamaz, I think after the Russian Truck company, was giving a concert over at Spaceport for the VIPs. Maybe you’ll be able to find it on video.
Camping on a motorcycle has never been near the top of my Fun Things To Do list. Like it or not, it seems I end up camping on a motorcycle more than is needed for strong bones and healthy fingernails. Street bike camping is tolerable because you can pile junk sky high but trail riding with a load of camping gear is a chore. Off-road, small lightweight equipment is the way to go. I’ll never admit it but it’s possible to go too small and too lightweight. My tent is an example of going overboard.
I’ve been using an old-style pup tent, like the Boy Scouts use, and when folded correctly the thing is admirably small. The pup tent reduces to the size of a bag of Batdorf & Bronson coffee and weighs next to nothing.
The problem with the pup is the ceiling height and the square footage. There’s no way to sit up in the thing, you have to crawl in and out. Once you’ve stored all your gear inside finding space for you body is a challenge. If you toss and turn throughout the night like I do your arms will be hitting the walls and roof. It’s a tight squeeze.
Unless you buy brand name equipment camping gear is really cheap, like me. I found a larger tent; the Cooper 2 (no relation to the road racing legend) for $28 on Amazon and shipping was included.
The Cooper 2 is easy to set up as it has only two fiberglass poles crossing in the middle. You fit the ends into the corners of the floor and bowing the poles raises the tent. Nearly 50-inches high at the center and with 49 square feet of floor space the Cooper 2 was huge. I could stuff all my gear inside and still have room for my sleeping bag. I could easily change into my Space Patrol pajamas with the privacy those pajamas demand. You know how it is.
The Cooper 2 is vented at the top, which kept condensation to a minimum. I didn’t get to test it in the rain but I suppose it will do as well as any other 28-dollar tent. I set up my sleeping bag towards the back of the tent and had plenty of room to throw elbows and kick out from under the covers. It was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a tent. Which is to say I woke up cotton-mouthed, fingers bleeding and a dead raccoon next to me.
All that luxury comes at a price, however. Folded up, the Cooper 2 is nearly twice as large as the pup tent and weighs 4 pounds 9 ounces compared to the pup’s 3 pounds 4 ounces. Still, the extra tonnage is worth it to me. I’ll just have to get rid of some other gear to compensate for the Cooper 2 tent, like maybe the handlebars or the front wheel of the Husqvarna.
Sue and I are Netflix junkies, and an evening in front of the big screen watching a Netflix series is a typical night here at the suburban version of Tinfiny Ranch. We recently watched Turn. It’s the story of Washington’s spy ring during the Revolutionary War, and folks, it was good. It’s four seasons long and each season has 10 episodes. The first season was a bit slow, but we’d heard good things so we stuck it out and we’re glad we did. The action picked up dramatically in the second season and it continued nonstop thereafter.
The Turn story occurred mostly in and around New York, New Jersey, and Long Island. Although filmed in Virginia, the terrain looks exactly like my old stomping grounds (central Jersey, where many American Revolution events occurred). The battle that turned the war happened 10 miles from my home, and every time I’m back there I take in a bit more.
Turn is based on the Alexander Rose book, Washington’s Spies. I enjoyed the Netflix series so much I read the book. Like the television series, Washington’s Spies started slowly and then the action accelerated rapidly.
Trust me on this: You won’t go wrong with either Turn or Washington’s Spies. Jump into either and you can thank me later.
Governor Greg Abbott of the great state of Texas is a leader who gets it…he understands what “common sense” gun laws should be. Need proof?
Good buddy Paul alerted me to Governor Abbott’s proclamation, and I like it. I used to live in Texas, you know. Sometimes I wonder why I moved.
In case you were wondering, here’s what the Resolution for such an act looks like:
SENATE CONCURRENT RESOLUTION
WHEREAS, The original 1847 Colt Walker pistol was
historically crucial to the early survival of the great State of Texas; and
WHEREAS, The original 1847 Colt Walker pistol was an essential tool in the defeat of the Mexican army during the Mexican-American War to reclaim Texas, the 28th state of the Union; and
WHEREAS, The co-inventor of the original 1847 Colt Walker pistol, Samuel Walker, was a captain in the Texas Rangers, the first state police agency in the country; and
WHEREAS, The original 1847 Colt Walker pistol was America’s first pistol to hold six rounds, otherwise known as a “six-shooter”; and
WHEREAS, The original 1847 Colt Walker pistol is still the most powerful black powder pistol in existence; now, therefore, be it
RESOLVED, That the 87th Legislature of the State of Texas hereby recognize the original 1847 Colt Walker pistol as the official handgun of the State of Texas.
That’s pretty cool.
We’ve written about the Walker Colt, its history, and the Uberti replica of that great gun before. I haven’t shot mine yet, but that’s a character flaw I aim to correct in the near future. When I do you’ll read about it here on the ExNotes blog. At the risk of being redundant, here are a few excerpts from our previous Colt Walker blogs:
And one more…a photo I like a lot. It’s my Uberti duo…the Colt Walker and a Single Action Army.
I should have won. It was politics, I tell ya…that’s the only reason the Axis prevailed. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
That photo above? Like I said, I should have won. That’s my photo. I watched the two judges, stooges of the Axis powers, deliberate for several minutes, even delaying announcement of the winner while they looked for a plausible reason to deny what was rightfully mine.
Okay, back to the beginning. Me and the boys used to hang out at Bob Brown’s BMW dealership on Saturday mornings, and back in the day, Bob and crew were always coming up with great ideas…you know, things to do. They outdid themselves on the Shoot and Scoot deal. You see, one of Bob’s BMW customers owned a camera store down in Chino Hills. Between Bob and the camera guy, they had this idea: Combine a day-ride to the Chino Planes of Fame Museum and a photo contest. It worked for me. I ride (my ride was a Triumph Tiger in those days) and Lord knows I’m a photography phreak. I was in.
The day started with photo ops and donuts at Bob’s dealership, with a very attractive young model. Attractive, yes. Creative or unusual? Hardly. But I grabbed the obligatory fashion shot…
From there, it was a quick ride to the Chino Airport’s Planes of Fame Museum. I’ve always loved that place. The idea was to grab an interesting photo or twenty in a place jam packed full of interesting photo ops. Trust me on this, boys and girls…if you’ve never been to the Planes of Fame Museum, you need to go.
Anyway, these are a few of my favorite shots from that day…I was working the Nikon for all it was worth and I was having a good time. I could win this, I thought.
My last few photos of the day were of my reflection in that big radial engine you see above, and then it hit me. Like a politician who knows never to let a good crisis go to waste, when I have a camera that’s how I feel about reflective surfaces. I was getting some good shots of myself in the polished prop hub, and then it hit me.
“Hey Marty,” I said. Marty is my riding buddy. You’ve seen him here in the ExNotes blog in many places. Mexico. Canada. All over the US. “Get in the picture right here.”
And he did. That’s when I grabbed the photo you see at the top of this blog, and as I saw the image through the viewfinder, I knew I had a winner. It captured what the day had been about. Great photography. Air cooling and internal combustion. Riding. Friendship.
So we rode from the Planes of Fame Museum over to the photo shop and uploaded all our shots. We returned that evening when the winners would be announced. I wasn’t interested in placing. I wanted to win. And I knew I would. Or at least I knew I should. The funny thing was, the two judges were the camera store owner and the local Canon sales rep. I could see they were having a tough time. They were down to two photos, mine was one of them, and they were struggling with the decision. I think my photo was the clear winner. But alas, I shot it with a Nikon. This was a Canon contest being at least partly sponsored by a BMW dealer (and I rode a Triumph). The Germans and the Japanese. The Axis powers. Still trying to make up for World War II. Not that it bothers me. Much. But I should have won.
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Have we finally lost our marbles? A Mitsubishi Mirage? I’m comparing it to a Harley Big Twin? No way!
One of the nice things about business travel is the opportunity to sample different cars. That’s something I like…extended test drives to find out if a car fits. I’ve rented cars I thought I would really like only to find out I hated them (saved a lot of money on a Jaguar doing that), and I fell in love with a few by accident…mostly because because they were the only thing available and they surprised me in a good way.
My first time for a rental car romance was in August 1972 when I rented a VW Beetle one weekend at the Benning School for Boys (jump school at Fort Benning, Georgia). (When I say a rental car romance, I’m referring to falling in love with the car, not any sort of an illicit parking lot relationship.) The Beetle was a blast and I bought one. I had a cool picture of it somewhere but it was taking too long to find, so you’ll have to trust me on this one.
The same thing happened again when I rented a Subaru (back when Subaru penetrated the US market with dirt cheap rental agency sales). I was blown away by the Subie’s overall quality and I’ve owned four since (including my dynamite WRX you see below).
A 2006 Subie WRX near the marigold fields above Santa Barbara. That was a fun car.
And then it happened again recently when the only thing left in the Atlanta Enterprise lot was a Mitsubishi Mirage.
Mitzi. More fun than any $14K car has a right to be.
The Mirage is a car that would have never been on my radar, but I liked it. Oh, it’s tiny and it didn’t have a lot of power, and it only has three cylinders, but somehow that made it even more appealing. The three-cylinder thing made me think of my old Triumph Speed Triple, but as soon as I stepped on the gas, it was all Harley. You know…open the throttle and there’s lots of noise and not much else. But I was in no hurry, and I kind of enjoyed hearing Mitzi’s howling protestations when I poured the coal to her. Harleys ain’t the only motor vehicles focused on converting gasoline to noise!
Three’s a crowd? Not with my old Speed Triple. Good lord, that was a good-looking motorcycle!
Mitzi. Yeah, I gave my rental car a name…and that’s a first.
A sparse interior, but the car had cruise control, air conditioning, a heater, a radio, Apple car play, and an automatic transmission. She drove like a comfortable go kart.
Mitzi’s road noise was a subdued sort of thing…not the screaming tire whine like the Chevy Traverse I rented earlier in Houston (I think a more apt name for the Chevy might have been the Travesty).
Mitzi’s ride was firm and the seats were a bit on the hard side, but I liked it. And Mitzi is most definitely not a lard butt. She weighs a scant 2,095 pounds, or just a little more than twice what a Harley Electra-Glide weighs. And you get air conditioning, power windows, Apple Car-Play, and a heater with the Mirage. The best part? I rolled all over Atlanta and the surrounding areas for the better part of a week, used nearly a full tank of gas, and when I filled up before turning her back in at the rental agency, she took just 7 gallons for a whopping total of $21. I like that.
7 gallons. $21. I could learn to live with this.
Mitzi kind of reminded me of a motorcycle, but better. I mean, think about it. The new Harley Icon, a beautiful motorcycle to be sure, but damn, it’s $30K and 863 pounds! Yeah, you get the Milwaukee Eight motor, but there’s no air conditioning, no heater (other than what rolls off the rear cylinder, as Harley riders know all too well), no spare tire, no windshield wipers, no rain protection, no automatic transmission, it only seats two, and the Harley gets lousy gas mileage compared to the Mitsubishi. And the Mitsubishi will clock an honest 100 mph (don’t ask how I know). Maybe the Milwaukee Eight will, too, with that 34-cubic-inch advantage it has over my old Harley’s 80-incher. My ’92 Softail wouldn’t hit 100 mph. Maybe this 114-cube Milwaukee monster will.
The Harley Icon. All $30K and 863 lbs of her. 863 lbs!
So I started researching Mitzi’s stats online, and our relationship deepened. Mine was a no frills model (she actually had hubcaps on her tiny wheels, not the cast wheels you see in the photos above). The base model I drove clocks in at a starting price of $14,625. That’s not even half what the new Harley costs. The Mitsubishi has a three-cylinder, 74-cubic inch engine (compared to Harley’s 114 cubic inch twin). The Harley is mostly made in ‘Murica; the Mitsubishi comes from Thailand.
More Mitzi magic? How’s a 10-year powertrain warranty sound? 10 years! That’s longer than most folks get for murder! As an aside, when I owned my Harley Softail, Harley wouldn’t even work on the bike when it hit the 10-year mark. The Mitsubishi would just be coming off its warranty!
I know I like a motor vehicle when I start thinking about what it would be like to take it through Baja, and that’s what I found myself doing as I was tooling around Georgia in my Mitsubishi. It’s most likely not going to happen, but it sure would be fun to get lost for a few weeks in Baja in an inexpensive, light, air conditioned car that gets 40 miles per gallon on regular fuel. With a price that starts under $15K, that leaves a lot of money for Tony’s fish tacos.
Tacos by Tony in Guerrero Negro…bring it on!
Don’t run out and buy a Mirage based on this ExNotes blog. To balance my rose-colored outlook on life in general and the Mirage in particular, consider this opening paragraph from Consumer Report’s review…
The Mitsubishi Mirage lives up to its name. While its low $16,000 sticker price and good fuel economy of 37 mpg overall may conjure up an inviting image of a good, economical runabout, that illusion quickly dissipates into the haze when you drive this tiny, regrettable car. The Mirage comes as a tiny hatchback or sedan, built in Thailand and powered by a small three-cylinder engine.
Eh, Consumer Reports. What do they know? I wonder how the CR folks would rate the Harley Icon. Funny how all this has come around…I used to refer to my ’79 Electra-Glide as my optical illusion. You know…it looked like a motorcycle. When it was running. Which wasn’t very often.
My take? The Mitsubishi Mirage is one of the least expensive cars out there, it has one of the best automobile warranties ever offered, and it was fun to drive. No frills here, folks. It’s just an honest car that’s not trying to pretend it’s something it is not. I like it. If I buy it instead of the Harley Icon I could pay cash and still have enough left over for a little more than 20,000 fish tacos!
That Seiko watch you see on the right, known informally as “The Panda” in watch collector circles, is perhaps the best watch I’ve ever owned. I bought it at the Kunsan AFB Base Exchange when I was a young Army dude in 1975 for the princely sum of $76, which was a bit of a stretch for me. Oh, I had the bucks. The Army didn’t pay us much, but we didn’t have expenses, either, so $76 was eminently doable. In fact, I bought Seiko stainless steel chronographs from the Base Exchange for my Dad and my grandfather, too. Their watches were only $67, but the Panda had the day and the date on the face, and three timing features: Seconds on the main watch face, minutes on the lower subdial, and hours on the upper subdial. It was a beautiful thing and it was all mechanical. I wore it for about 10 years, and then when Ebay started to get popular I auctioned it away. I was quite pleased with the results. The watch that originally set me back $76 went for just north of $200 on Ebay 30 years ago. Today, though, that same watch brings around $2000. I sold too soon. Go figure.
From there, it was a quick ride to the Chino Airport’s Planes of Fame Museum. I’ve always loved that place. The idea was to grab an interesting photo or twenty in a place jam packed full of interesting photo ops. Trust me on this, boys and girls…if you’ve never been to the Planes of Fame Museum, you need to go.
