Gresh has some really honest, really funny videos, and the thing about the funny part is that the guy is not trying to be funny…he’s just telling it like it is and a lot of times, the truth is pretty funny. This is a video Joe did 7 years ago on the Harley XR1200 Sportster, and the best line in it is the title of this blog. Enjoy, my friends.
Baja Bound
Good buddy Tuan asked me for a suggested 4-day itinerary for Baja, and I referred him to our Baja page and its included suggested Baja rides. Here’s another 4-day ride that would make for a great 4-day Baja visit: Tecate, Ensenada, San Quintin, and home again.
Tecate is one of the better best-kept secrets in Baja, and it’s one of my favorite towns. It’s about 150 miles south of the Los Angeles area and getting there is an easy ride. I like to stay at the El Dorado Hotel, have dinner at the Amores restaurant, and then breakfast at Malinalli’s, which is right next door to the El Dorado.
After breakfast, it’s an easy run through Tecate to Ensenada along the Ruta Del Vino, maybe with a stop at El Naranjo’s for lunch. It’s about an 80-mile ride and it’s quite scenic. Ensenada is touristy, but I like the place. You can get fish tacos at any of several taco spots along the embarcadero and have breakfast at Velero’s (world-class dining; it’s where knowledgeable Ensenada business folks take their morning meal). I’d stay in the Best Western and have dinner at Birrieria La Guadalajara. It’s a family style place my good buddy Tim introduced me to, and it’s great.
From Ensenada, it’s another easy run through northern Baja’s wine country and the agricultural region down to San Quintin. There are two great hotels in San Quintin. One is the more modern Mision Santa Maria. The other is the Old Mill Hotel right on Bahia San Quintin, which is the one I prefer. The Old Mill has a new restaurant called Eucalypto’s, and it’s world class.
After San Quintin, it’s about a 300-mile run home to get back to the Los Angeles area. It’s a long stretch, but it’s doable in a day, and it would nicely wrap up a great 4-day run.
If you do a ride like the one I describe, or any other, don’t forget to pick up your Mexican insurance, and for that, BajaBound is the best there is.
Want to learn more about traveling through Baja? Check out Moto Baja!
I Never Got a Free Gun When Obama Was President
Foreigners have a hard time understanding America’s gun fetish. I admit, I have a little trouble with the craziness myself but that didn’t stop my wife from entering a local charity’s gun raffle. It’s like 50 bucks and they draw a winner once a month for a year. CT’s number came up and we are now the proud owner of a 17-round (with one in the chamber), plastic, meth-dealer’s friend, a Smith & Wesson 9mm.
The thing is a bit cheesy-looking with the plastic and all. Berk assures me it’s a good weapon and that it won’t explode in my hand. I’m a little leery of automatics as they give no easy indication of their status. Is it cocked? Loaded? Who knows? Give me a revolver any day.
When we picked the thing up at the Ace Hardware (they still sell guns at the hardware store in New Mexico) CT was entered into the store’s computer and in seconds the gun guy knew her entire life story. It was a bit creepy but I guess that’s the price we pay to keep tyrants at bay.
Coming from a revolver perspective the quantity of ammunition this thing holds is incredible. 16 rounds fit in the magazine, henceforth known as a clip just to piss off the gun nuts. Not only that but you can plop one in the chamber giving a total of 17 rounds! That’s nearly three reloads on my Smith revolver. It’s a lot of lead and with my aiming ability I need all the chances I can get.
We bought 50 rounds of ammo when we got the Smith and the clerk gave me a look that screamed Piker. “Is that all? Sure you don’t want more?” The S&W 9mm came with a nice plastic case that included the manuals and a second clip, meaning I can pack 33 rounds ready to go in a large jacket pocket. You won’t run out of ammo and have to throw the gun at any survivors with a Smith 9. This kind of legal firepower is what makes America the greatest country in the world. I better go pick up another couple hundred rounds of 9mm.
The Smith 9mm came with three different size grips to custom-fit the gun to your hand. The whole package is well thought out and it will be interesting to see if we can hit anything with all that ammunition. A trip to the gun range for a familiarization session is in order. CT will be taking a gun-specific class to learn about the new gun from shooting it to disassembling, cleaning and reassembly. I’d show her how to do all that stuff myself if I knew anything about it and didn’t yell all the time.
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Men of a Certain Age
Men of a certain age, like me, grew up in the ’50s and ’60s. Our values were formed in a era when honor, courage, integrity, and self-reliance were important, and I think a big part of those values were formed by what we watched on TV. Today, television shows are mostly mindless drivel centered on pop culture (an oxymoron if ever there was one) and the so-called reality genre. We were way luckier:
The stars of those ’50s and ’60s shows were folks who knew the difference between right and wrong, and we received a steady stream of 30-minute morality injections several times every week as a consequence of watching them. It seemed to work. It was a good time to be a kid.
The other stars in those early Westerns were the horses and guns. I never had any interest in owning a horse, but the steady emphasis on six-shooters and leverguns instilled a lasting fascination with firearms in many of us. A Colt .45 Single Action Army figured in nearly every episode (in fact, you can see this iconic firearm in several of the photos above). It’s no small wonder that sixguns still sell well in the US.
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Today, the prices of Colt Single Action Army revolvers are through the roof, but there are a number of companies that offer exact replicas built in Italy at far more reasonable prices. A few years ago, when I saw this Taylor and Company “tuned” Single Action Army at my local gun shop, I was a goner. To borrow a phrase, I pulled the trigger.
The Taylor is an exact copy of the Colt Single Action Army, it’s chambered in .45 Colt, and Taylor’s “tuned” descriptor means the revolver has a trigger and action job to slick up the internals. The trigger is under two pounds, it’s crisp, and the gun feels perfect in every way. There’s just something about a single action sixgun that feels right. This one is beautiful and it has everything that floats my boat: A brass grip frame, a color case hardened receiver, and high polish bluing everywhere else. The .45 Colt chambering is perfect, too. It’s a fun cartridge to reload and shoot, and it’s accurate.
The first day I went to the range with my new Single Action Army sixgun, I knew it was going to be a good morning. On the dirt road leading to the range, I saw a bobcat. We were both surprised. He looked at me and I looked at him, and then the cat leisurely walked across the road and disappeared into the brush. It was a good sign. I’ve seen bobcats here in California three or four times in the last 30 years and seeing one on my way to the range that morning was a special treat.
My .45 Single Action Army groups well with every load I tested. It particularly likes Trail Boss propellant and cast bullets (the two groups with arrows were with this powder). The gun shoots exactly to point of aim (I used a 6:00 o’clock hold on the targets above), and the spread you see in the groups is almost certainly more the result of my old hands and eyes than the gun or the load. If you’ve ever wondered how good the Italian replica Single Action Army handguns are, my results indicate they are fine firearms.
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More Thai Taxi Photos
I guess we struck a nerve with the blog yesterday featuring Thai moto taxis, and I received a couple of emails asking if I had more photos. Indeed I do, folks…
The orange vest denotes a taxi rider, and I guess Thai law requires that they wear helmets (but their passengers do not have to). So much for ATGATT in Thailand. Another commenter said it was amazing that that female passengers never lost shoes. I thought it was amazing that none ever seemed to fall off (it looks like a precarious perch). I took all of the photos you see here in the space of maybe 5 minutes.
Two-Wheeled Thai Taxis…
I’ve seen a lot of interesting things in the world, and I’ve seen some really interesting things in Asia. Mind you, all this is filtered through the mind of an East Coast boy who really didn’t get out of Dodge until he finished college, but boy oh boy, I’ve sure covered a lot of ground since then. And I’ve covered a lot of it on two wheels. And because of that, I’ve always been intrigued by how other people in other countries use their motorcycles.
One of the wilder things I’ve seen is how small motorcycles do duty as taxis, and in particular, how they do so in Thailand. One night a few years ago I was wandering around in Bangkok, one of the world’s more sultry and exotic cities, and the action on a typical street corner just off Sukhumvit Road (one of the main roads through Bangkok) was both mind numbing and mesmerizing. I recorded about 10 minutes of it. Sit back, grab a cup of coffee, or Scotch, or whatever floats your boat, and enjoy.
One of my good buddies who lives in Bangkok owns a couple of small bikes and he invited me to tour Thailand. I’m tempted.
The Gear’d Torture Test
So, the literature that came with my Gear’d Hardware ZX2-1116 watch said it was bulletproof.
We’ll see about that, I thought. I’ll take the challenge…
The Gear’d came through it just fine, and I’m having fun flashing this monster around. Gresh’s watch is on its way to New Mexico, and he’s got a hot 9 and a cement mixer to test it with. But I’ll let him tell you that story.
Gear’d Up
You might remember I told you we had a couple of watches from Gear’d Hardware. This is the one I showed on the blog last week:
This morning I took the second Gear’d watch out of its shipper. It’s a stunner. Take a look:
Here’s a photo of the watch, which Gear’d calls its ZX2-1116 model:
I’ve got a few things in mind for these watches. The top one is getting mailed to Joe Gresh today, and he’ll be providing his impressions. I’m going to read the instructions on mine, set it, and then my fun will begin. I’m not just going to be a male model here (although folks in the waiting room at the optometrist’s office tell me I’ve got the looks for it). Nope, what I have in mind are a few tests, like how well the watch keeps time, how it stands up to vibration (that means a motorcycle ride), and how well it stands up to shock. That may be a bit more than the Gear’d folks banked on when they sent the watches to us, but hey, it is what it is.
The games begin today. This afternoon I’m headed out to the range with my new Gear’d watch, my bright stainless 1911 .45 Colt, and a couple of boxes of hardball ammo. I’m going to send 100 rounds of 230-grain roundnose ammo (the heavy, hard-recoiling stuff) downrange and we’ll see how the Gear’d watch stands up to it. Y0u’ll be able to read about it tomorrow, right here on the ExNotes blog.
Stay tuned, my friends.
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Misery on a Motorcycle
We’ve probably all felt it, and nowhere is misery more pronounced than on a long motorcycle trip where there is no end in sight. The rain, the cold, the heat…it all makes us wonder why we do it. Good buddy Juan Carlos said it best when we were riding through an extreme freezing rainstorm in Colombia’s Andes Mountains. “We sometimes wonder why we suffer through this kind of misery when we could be home with a warm cup of coffee,” or words to that effect, was his take on it all. Indeed, I’ve had the same thought many times myself. I’ll share a few of my most miserable moments with you and then I’ll provide my answer to why we do what we do. And there’s an invitation at the end of this blog…if you’d like to share the misery (misery loves company, you know), we’d love to hear from you.
Super Hawk, and Super Cold
My first ever memory of misery on a motorcycle was riding on the back of my Dad’s Honda Super Hawk back in the 1960s. It was a 305cc twin-carb black-and-chrome beauty, and Dad bought into the dream during a time when you really did meet the nicest people on a Honda. What the Japanese marketing gurus left out, though, is that you sometimes also met the coldest people on a Honda, and two of them would have been Dad and me that morning. It was early on a Saturday in September, I was 14 years old, and we were riding the Honda to Cooper’s Cycle Ranch in Ewing, New Jersey for its first service.
It was really cold that morning, as only New Jersey can be that time of year. Really, really cold. We weren’t dressed for the weather, the bike had no windshield or fairing, full-faced helmets and good moto gear hadn’t been invented yet, and the cold was brutal. I remember we stopped at a diner somewhere on Route 130 and Dad bought two copies of the newspaper. After a hearty and hot breakfast, Dad stuffed one of the newspapers in the front of his jacket (not a motorcycle jacket, as that kind of gear didn’t exist yet), and I did the same with the newspaper he gave to me. The newspapers helped a bit, but not enough to really make a difference. But I remember that ride like it happened yesterday.
Canada: My First International Adventure
For me, this thing about international adventure riding started early, as in college. I was in my junior year at Rutgers when good buddy Keith Hediger and yours truly decided a motorcycle adventure from New Jersey to Quebec was just what the doctor ordered. It was Spring Break, our engineering courses were brutal, and we needed a respite from hitting the books.
Canada. It would be great. As they say, it’s almost like going to another country. Both Keith and I were ROTC students, and we joked that we would be draft dodgers. The ride north was great, Canada was great, and then it rained the entire length of Vermont on the way home. I’m not exaggerating. It was raining when we crossed the border back into the US, and it rained all day long without a single break.
We didn’t have rain gear in those days. Keith was on a Kawasaki 500cc two-stroke triple and I was on my CB-750 Honda. For us it was bell-bottomed jeans, nylon windbreaker jackets, open face helmets, and tennis shoes. We were soaked to the gills and we were indeed miserable. And cold. But we had ridden to Canada and back on our motorcycles. I didn’t know anybody else who had ever done that. It was fun. The rain notwithstanding, it lit a fire in me for international motorcycles rides that burns to this day. And I remember it like it happened yesterday.
Mexico: Soaked Again!
Fast forward thirty years or so and good buddy John Welker and I were on our cruisers headed to Baja’s Cabo San Lucas, a ferry ride across the Sea of Cortez, and then Puerto Vallarta, Guadalajara, and other points in mainland Mexico. I had a ’92 Harley and John had a Yamaha Virago I called the Viagra. Most of the ride was in great weather. But that first day was terrible. It was raining I left the Los Angeles area, it was raining when I hooked up with John down in San Ysidro, and rained nearly the entire day. It rained when we blew through Tijuana and we rode through the rain to Ensenada. We were experiencing the tail end of the El Nino storms that hit our part of the world that year.
We didn’t let the rain stop us, though. We stopped at La Bufadora south of Ensenada, a spot where there’s a natural opening in the rocks, and when the waves from the Pacific come crashing in, it shoots a spout 150 feet in the air. That spray soaked us, too. But it had rained nearly all day, so the extra La Bufadora spray didn’t make us any wetter. We were already soaked.
We rode nearly 200 miles south into Baja the first day, and then I threw in the towel. I had to stop. I was soaked to the bone (we didn’t have rain gear, even though we started the ride in the rain…smart, huh?). I was so cold I couldn’t ride, so we stopped in a little hotel in Colonet. I remember feeling the water seeping through my leather jacket, and I remember shivering so badly I could hear my teeth clattering. The hotel had an old-fashioned register you had to sign when checking in, and I was shaking so badly I couldn’t sign my name. Even soaked and freezing, though, I couldn’t remember when I had ever felt better or more alive. And you know what? I remember that day like it happened yesterday.
Steamed Mustangs
When I was a consultant and I wrote the blog for CSC Motorcycles, in the early days the company made Mustang replicas. They were cool little bikes that looked like 1950s Mustang motorcycles, and I had this bright idea that we would make a splash if we rode the little 150cc Mustangs to Cabo San Lucas and back. You know, ride the length of Baja on little 150cc tiddlers. It was a story that guaranteed press coverage, and my idea worked. Half a dozen magazines picked up that story.
What I didn’t realize when I scheduled the ride was that September is the hottest month of the year in Baja. I mean, who know such a thing? I grew up in New Jersey, and in New Jersey, September means you’re rolling into winter. In my mind, September is not a month one associates with hot weather.
But not in Baja. As soon as we crossed Parallelo 28 and Guerrero Negro, the heat went from bad to you’ve-gotta-be-kidding-me misery. And then as we rolled into Santa Rosalia and approached the Tropic of Cancer, the humidity hit us. We were riding in a crock pot, and the setting was on high. Those little bikes would barely make 50 mph the way we had them loaded, so we couldn’t make enough wind to stay cool. It was, without a doubt, the worst heat and the most physically-challenging ride I’ve ever experienced. But (and you can probably guess what I’m going to say next), I remember that ride like it happened yesterday.
Why We Do It
Guys, I ain’t the smartest person in the room, and I don’t have any great insights here. I can’t speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself. I ride because it’s fun. If a little rough weather comes along, hey, that’s part of the deal. It’s miserable when it happens, but it sure makes for some great memories, and oddly, the off-the-scale misery moments are the ones I remember best.
Do you have a particularly miserable motorcycle day, you know, a ride through rough weather, you’d like to share with us? Hey, leave a comment!
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Ruger’s .357 Blackhawk
One of my good buddies wrote to me over the weekend asking about the Ruger Blackhawk in .357 Magnum. He wanted to know if I felt they were good guns. In a word: Yes. My friend was specifically considering the .357 Blackhawk with the extra cylinder for 9mm ammo; I’m not a big fan of the combo Blackhawks (I think they’re a solution to a problem that doesn’t exist). But the basic .357 Blackhawk? It’s a winner, and I think it’s one of the world’s great handguns.
I’ve owned several .357 Blackhawks over the last 50 years, starting with a plain vanilla blue steel New Model I bought at a K-Mart when I lived in El Paso (yep, they used to sell handguns). I traded that one away, and then I bought an Old Model Blackhawk with the convertible 9mm cylinder. It was a pristine used gun, still in the original box, with the shorter 4 5/8-inch barrel. I never fired that gun and I only owned it for about a week. I paid something like $75 for it, and then I sold it to my boss at Fort Bliss a few days later because he wanted it. That Old Model with its convertible 9mm cylinder would be collectible today. Eh, live and learn, I guess.
There were two convertible Blackhawks back in the 1970s, and I guess there are still two available new today. One is the 9mm/.357 combo I described above; the other is the .45 ACP/.45 Colt deal. I had a New Model Blackhawk .45 ACP/.45 Colt around the same time as I bought that Old Model 9mm/.357. I only shot .45 ACP in it because I had a ready supply of .45 ACP ammo. Mine wasn’t very accurate. It might have been because the .45 ACP bullet had to make a big jump to the rifling (it’s a shorter cartridge), or it might have been that I just had the wrong .45 ACP load for that revolver. I think the same accuracy detractors exist with the 9mm/.357 arrangement. The accuracy challenge is perhaps even more significant for the 9mm Blackhawk because of the slight difference in bore diameters between the 9mm and the .357 (the barrel diameter is .357 inches; the 9mm bullets are .355 or .356 inches in diameter). If you have the .357 Blackhawk with the extra 9mm cylinder, you can actually shoot three cartridges in it (9mm from the one cylinder, and 38 Special and 357 Magnum from the other). But I don’t have an interest in any of that. I only shoot .357 Magnum in mine.
My .357 Blackhawk is the stainless model you see in the photo above. It’s accurate (I can usually hold all my shots in the 10-ring of a silhouette target at 25 yards). They are super strong and I think they are more rugged than a Smith and Wesson. I sold all my S&W 357s years ago. And on that subject, I owned a couple of Colt Pythons back in the 1970s and I sold them, too. I never understand all the excitement over the Pythons; their fit and finish was great, but they didn’t shoot any better than the Blackhawk (at least in my hands).
There are several variants of the Blackhawk; I have the full-sized Blackhawk with the 6½-inch barrel. I like the feel of it, I like the grip, and as a kid who grew up watching Westerns, I like the idea of a single-action sixgun. Today, Ruger makes several variants of their .357 Blackhawk. There are fixed-sight versions they call the Vaquero, smaller frame versions they call the flat top, different barrel lengths, stainless models, blue steel models, and more. I like the stainless version because the grip is made of steel; in the blue version it’s anodized aluminum. The stainless grip is a little heavier and the gun feels better to me. But there’s nothing wrong with the blued-steel Blackhawk. They are great guns.
I like loading the .357 ammo, too, and I loaded a bunch this weekend. It’s a cool cartridge to reload. WW 296 is my preferred propellant. Unique does okay, too, but 296 is the cat’s meow for the .357 Magnum cartridge. It’s a flat-shooting cartridge, and I can hit consistently with it all the way out to 200 yards. I may set up a target or two at that distance the next time I’m on the range just to back up that statement.
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