There’s a reason we call this pump a tire inflator instead of an air compressor. The thing is pretty small to start with and half of that size is battery to power the thing. Don’t expect to run your 1/2″ air impact wrench with the UABRLA is what I’m trying to say in an original, thought-provoking manner.
I have a small, 12-volt Slime brand tire inflator that I carry on whichever bike I’m riding. It works well and is like 15 years old now. The main issue (I hate to say problem because it’s more of a design limitation) is that you have to connect it to the motorcycle’s battery. On the RD350 that’s not a big problem but on some bikes, like the ZRX1100, the battery is buried under a bunch of junk I store on the bike. You have to remove the dirty socks, chucks of broken concrete, a dried up Sharpie marker and last year’s Laguna Seca vintage racing schedule. That gains access to the battery door, then you have to slide the battery out to access the terminals.
For airing up bike tires in the shop I use a larger 12-volt compressor (it has some grunt) and a 12-volt car battery.
I bought the UABRLA because I sometimes forget on which bike the Slime pump is stored. I’ve ridden off to the hinterlands thinking I had flat tires covered yet the Slime was packed away on a different motorcycle.
You’re probably wondering if I’ll ever get to the UABRLA review.
The UABRLA was delivered from Amazon in only two days. That’s pretty fast considering where I live. It came with a hose for connecting to tires, a charging cord, a 12-volt cigarette adaptor so you can keep filling tires even if the built-in battery is dead and a little collection of adapters for beach balls, inflatable mattresses and New England Patriots footballs. A handy tote bag is included. The unit also has a flashlight and a USB port for charging small electronics. The flashlight has three modes: on, on-strobe, on-SOS. Four modes if you count off.
The inflator has presets for car tires, motorcycle tires, bicycles and sports equipment. I can’t see the need as air is air but maybe if you were a complete novice it would help.
A nice touch is the auto-shutoff that kills the inflator when the tire reaches a preset pressure. The setting is pretty accurate being only a pound or two off when checked against a pencil-type gauge. Or maybe the pencil gauge is off. Regardless, I can’t tell a tire is low until the rim scrapes the ground.
The built in battery supposedly has 20,000 mah capacity but I can’t be bothered to test that. I filled up two bicycle tires and topped up 6 motorcycle tires with the little inflator and it was still showing 2 of 4 bars. I’m guessing you could fill one car tire with the built in battery. After that you’ll have to switch to the 12-volt cigarette adaptor.
Anyway, I wouldn’t use this machine for car tires. Maybe adding a few pounds would be ok. My experience with these little inflators is that they get hot if you run them too long so I’d let it cool a few times if you’re filling a 40-inch tall muddier tire.
One thing I would like different is a 90-degree air chuck instead of the straight chuck that comes with the UABRLA. It gets a little tight on some motorcycle wheels.
The UABRLA is a nice-looking bit of consumer glitter. I’ll be tossing this pump into my motorcycle travel kit and hopefully it will last more than one or two uses.
Harley-Davidson built four military motorcycles during World War II: The WLA, the WLC, the Knucklehead EL Overhead Valve, and the XA. The 45-cubic inch V-twin WLA was the preferred US Army motorcycle, and it was the motorcycle Harley-Davidson produced in mass quantities. We recently visited the Harley-Davidson Museum in Milwaukee, where I was able to grab most of the photos you see here.
The WLA
The WLA Harley-Davidson (if you haven’t tumbled to it yet, the “A” in WLA stands for Army) used a detuned 750cc air-cooled engine. The motorcycle had a springer front end and a solid rear (there were no springs or shocks in the rear, other than the spring beneath the seat post). The WLA, like other Harleys of that era, had a foot-operated clutch on the left and a hand shifter on the fuel tank’s left side.
The Harley- Davidson WLA. This 45- cubic-inch V-twin was the U.S. Army’s principal motorcycle during World War II (photo provided by the American Motorcycle Historical Foundation). This photo is in my book, Police and Military Motorcycles.
Simplicity was the WLA’s defining theme. Its flathead engine could be disassembled using only hand tools. At the army’s request, Harley built the WLA with a carburetor that had nonadjustable needles and jets, a configuration Harley used on some of its police motorcycles. The idea was to prevent soldiers (or police officers) adjusting the carb. The WLA didn’t even have a key. A trooper just had to kick-start it and ride.
A US Army WLA on display at the Harley Museum. It’s authentic.
The Army quickly found WLA improvement opportunities. Travel on dusty roads tended to accelerate engine wear, so Harley added a monstrous oil-bath air filter. The second improvement was the headlight location. WLA headlights were initially above the handlebars (like on the civilian models). Part of the Army’s tactical doctrine, though, included a move that required the rider to use the motorcycle as a shield. The drill in that move involved skidding the rear wheel, flipping the rear out, and then laying the bike down to form a barricade…you know, so you could shoot at the bad guys from your now-prone motorcycle (thus giving new meaning to the time worn “I had to lay ‘er down” and similar expressions). The problem here was that the above-the-handlebars-headlights often broke during this maneuver. Harley remounted the headlight just above the front fender to better protect it.
The Army started buying WLA Harleys even before the United States went to war. In 1940, the Army ordered 16,000 WLAs to be delivered in 1940 and 1941, and then after Pearl Harbor, the pace increased. Harley won contracts for 13,000 WLAs in 1942, 24,000 in 1943, 11,000 in 1944, and more than 8,000 in 1945.
A United States Navy WLA in Navy gray. Note the headlight location above the handlebars.
Even the Navy got in the act with a WL variant painted sort of a battleship gray. The Navy used their motorcycles for shore patrol duties (the Shore Patrol was the Navy’s Military Police function). I saw one with a sidecar at the Harley Museum in Milwaukee. It was a sweet-looking motorcycle.
Harley-Davidson sold 88,000 military motorcycles during the war to the United States, England, Canada, China, India, and Russia. Many were eventually sold to the public. Most are in collections; some are still ridden today. In addition to the 88,000 complete motorcycles, Harley built enough spare parts to build 30,000 more motorcycles.
The WLC
During World War II, the Canadians also bought Harleys for their army, as did many other countries. The other countries used the standard WLA, but Canada had its own unique requirements. These included an auxiliary hand clutch, interchangeable front and rear wheels, and a front wheel stand (the U.S. model had the traditional Harley side stand). Harley-Davidson built 18,000 WLC motorcycles for Canada.
The 61 EL
Harley had introduced its 61-cubic-inch EL Knucklehead engine to the civilian market in 1936. The Knucklehead and its overhead valve engine offered better performance than the flathead 45 W-series Harleys. Harley-Davidson delivered a small number of military motorcycles based on the 61-cubic-inch Knucklehead engine. Man, that must have been a good gig…being an Army dispatch rider and drawing a Knucklehead for your ride. The military Knuckleheads are rare (no jokes needed here, folks). I can’t remember ever seeing one. But, I found a video of one that was for sale in 2017. Enjoy, my friends…
The XA
The Army preferred the Harley WLA to the Indian 30-50, but it had problems with both motorcycles. In addition to the engine wear and broken headlight problems mentioned above, the rear chain had to be adjusted and replaced frequently on both motorcycles. Engine overheating was another problem (the Harley and the Indian both had V-twin engines, and with a V-twin, the rear cylinder runs hotter than the front cylinder). The rear cylinders could seize because of this.
None of the XA Harleys saw active duty in a war zone. This one looks ready, though, with a .45 ACP Thompson in a scabbard on the right and a .30-cal M1 Carbine in the scabbard on the left. Check out the tires!
When the British captured BMW R 12 motorcycles in North Africa and provided a few to the United States, the German machines appeared to provide the answer to the U.S. Army’s major concerns with the WLA. The BMW had a relatively maintenance-free driveshaft to provide power to the rear wheel. The BMW’s horizontally-opposed twin cylinders were both out in the airstream, and as a result the BMW engine ran about a hundred degrees cooler than the Harley and Indian engines. The shaft drive did away with the chain and its wear and adjustment issues. The giant oil bath air cleaner was in a great location. And the BMW had a foot shifter and a hand clutch, a much easier to operate arrangement.
The Army asked both Harley-Davidson and Indian to develop prototypes based on the BMW R 12. Harley-Davidson’s answer was the XA, which looked, for all intents and purposes, as if the BMW engine and shaft drive had been grafted into a standard WLA. In reality, what had happened was very close to that. Harley reverse-engineered the BMW drive train and mated its version into the WLA chassis. The first few, including the prototype, even had the Harley springer front end.
A closeup of the 750cc flathead Harley boxer twin.Another view of a non-sidecar-equipped Harley XA. Note the twin carbs, the air cleaner location behind the generator, and the foot shift.
The Army was impressed with both the Harley and Indian BMW clones, and they gave both manufacturers production contracts. Harley and Indian each built 1,000 machines based on the BMW design. Harley’s XA was more of a direct copy; Indian’s design had the cylinders tilted up like a modern Moto Guzzi. But while the Harley and Indian development work was under way, the army had been experimenting with other transportation concepts and found that the 4WD Willys (the Jeep) was a much better all-around military vehicle. The Army shifted its resources to Jeep acquisition and did not take delivery on the motorcycles Harley and Indian had already produced. The Army can be fickle like that.
Both Harley and Indian did not pursue BMW clones, since neither company saw any significant civilian demand. Both manufacturers sold their machines to the public and walked away from further development. Today, both the Harley XA and its Indian counterpart are highly collectible.
The Real Knuckleheads?
On that topic of knuckleheads mentioned above…no, not the EL model mentioned several paragraphs up, but the guys running the show in the War Department and over at Indian. You see, the War Department’s spec for their desired military motorcycles called for a 30.5 cubic inch motorcycle (a 500cc twin). Indian snapped to and developed the Model 741 you see in the video below. Harley thought about things for a minute and told the Army they didn’t make a 500cc motorcycle, and they let the Army know they weren’t about to start. Harley further informed the, er, knuckleheads that they made a very good 45 cubic inch motorcycle, and if the Army wanted Harleys, that’s what they could buy.
The knuckleheads (the ones in uniform, not the EL motorcycles) quickly found out that Harley was right. The troops let the brass know that Harleys were better motorcycles, and that’s why the Army ordered many more Harley WLAs than Indians.
There’s one more area in which Harley had to set the knuckleheads straight. During the war, the Army told Harley and Indian to cancel all civilian motorcycle production and make only military motorcycles. Indian saluted and executed. Harley let the War Department know they could go pound sand. By keeping their civilian production going, Harley preserved their customer base. After the war, Harley prospered. Indian? Well, you know how that story ends.
I wrote a story for Motorcycle Classics magazine about the Indian 30-50 (Indian’s World War II workhorse) a few years ago. You can view it here. I also have a video of that bike you might enjoy:
As you’ll recall from the Oxilam headlight review we published on ExhaustNotes a while back, I loved the thing. It gave a much brighter view at night and the light source was positioned in the correct spot for the reflector on the ZRX1100 Lawsonsaki. Low beam was wide and had a sharp cutoff so as to not blind oncoming drivers, and high beam lit up the dark New Mexico roads nicely.
Unfortunately. the bulb burned out on my bike after only 3000 miles. Considering the original halogen bulb lasted 35,000 miles, 24 years, and was still going strong, I was disappointed.
Taking the bulb apart revealed a neatly constructed circuit board, a cooling fan, heat transferring grease to the large aluminum heat sink, and broken solder connections at the main board/plug connector junction.
The board connections are tiny and I may try to re-solder the connections (there are four of them broken: two on either side of the circuit board) but I don’t hold out much hope.
The Oxilam kit came with two bulbs, and I’ll pop the other one in to see if my failure was just a fluke. I do like the quantity of light produced and riding with a plain old halogen seems dark now.
My new, revised rating on the Oxilam LED headlights is: Don’t buy them just yet. Wait until the second Oxilam has proved itself for 24 years. I’ll be sure to report back here if I’m still alive.
Astute readers will remember our post on Shinya Kimura, an artist who works with metal and motorcycles to create motorcycle art. I was both pleased and surprised to see one of his creations at the Harley Museum during our recent Milwaukee content safari.
“Spike,” Mr. Kimura’s custom Knucklehead, was in a Harley museum hall that focused on custom motorcycles, and even before I saw his name, I knew whose work it was.
I believe “Spike” is the very same motorcycle featured in this video:
The Shinya Kimura shop, located in Azusa, California (not far from CSC Motorcycles) is one of the more interesting places I’ve ever visited. I think you would enjoy it, too, although it is not open to the public. I was there on business reasons, and I captured some great photos. If you have a chance, check out our earlier blog.
After 5 weeks on Koh Tao it was time to move on to explore more of Thailand. I was becoming complacent and really had a lot more to experience in Thailand before my visa expired. Being comfortable in one place was a new feeling for me, and although it was a wonderful feeling it also meant that I wasn’t growing, which was a huge part of undertaking this journey. There was a lot of Thailand I hadn’t explored yet, but I wasn’t up for a flight. So, after talking with others the city of Krabi kept coming up as a place of beauty. So Krabi it was.
Krabi is a rather large city and after having recently spent two weeks in Bangkok, I was really done with large cities. As with most cities you really cannot absorb the full culture there. Yes, there are museums, temples, and other tourist attractions, but to fully feel the true heartbeat of a region you need to travel off the beaten path, which in most cases means meandering around the countryside.
Ao Nang is the “countryside” of Krabi, and although Ao Nang wasn’t that far off the beaten path, it was near the Andaman Sea. There is easy access to ferries that could bring you to any number of islands quickly. This would make for a perfect base for a week in order to partake in island hopping day trips and even an overnight trip to Railay Beach.
Railay Beach wasn’t an island, but a remote peninsula that was only accessible by long tail boat. Just a 15-minute boat ride and you were on what felt like on another planet. The beach was beautiful with crystal clear waters around limestone mountains that popped out of the ocean in every direction. There were monkeys running around and even parrots in the trees above me. The people here were on island time; there was no rush or hurry to do anything. Railay Beach was the perfect place to watch the sunset while drinking a cold Chang beer listening to a local play classic rock tunes in a smoky bar while people sat almost invisible in the far back on cushions enjoying their mushroom shakes with neon paintings glowing to guide the journeys they were on. It was really a unique place, and for me to be saying that means a lot.
The remainder of the time in Krabi I spent on the beaten path joining in tours of the many islands. The days were lazily spent snorkeling, sunning on the white sands, and embracing the emerald-green waters. Ao Nang is yet another location on this trip where I seemed to continually extend my hotel stay day by day until I realized a week had passed and it was now time to move on to the next adventure. My urge to leave was fueled by my new hobby of scuba diving. Once again it didn’t take too long to decide my next destination: The Phi Phi Islands.
For a guy who doesn’t collect knives, I sure seem to have a lot of them laying around. The one you see above came to me as part of what is perhaps the greatest sales gimmick of all time: The “$100 Ships Free!” offer.
You know, the MidwayUSA.com come on…orders over $100 ship free. I ordered a Safariland 1¾-inch wide belt in a smaller size because I lost weight, I got down to the last belt buckle hole on my old Safariland belt, and my pants were still loose. The new belt was $71 (a lot, I know, but it works well when carrying concealed and Safariland makes a very high quality item). If I could kick the order over $100 the belt would ship free. Shipping if I didn’t make the $100 hurdle was $15. So this Uncle Henry knife popped up, and it was like getting the knife for half price, because it ordinarily cost just over $30.
Bam! Add to cart. A no brainer, if ever there was one.
The knife is a Schrade, part of their Uncle Henry line. I don’t know if that means it’s good or not so good. I couldn’t find anywhere on the knife that says it’s made in China, but I guessed that it was. A quick Google check confirmed it. That’s not a bad thing, though. The knife appears to be well made. A lot of things that are made in China are good.
The Uncle Henry knife came with a sheath and a tiny sharpening stone in another piggy-backed sheath (the idea being that you’ll always have a way to sharpen your knife), not that I’ll ever use the sharpening stone. The stone is small enough that I could see myself slicing my hand open trying to hold it.
The Stagalon grip material is some sort of plastic that is supposed to look like, you know, stag. That’s okay by me. For just over $30, I wasn’t expecting real stag. I wasn’t expecting the Stagalon to look as good as it does, either. That was a nice surprise. Stagalon. I guess I could make a video of the knife and call it a stag film. Maybe just saying stag film will result in a lot of hits. Do they still call them stag films these days, or is that no longer politically correct?. Isn’t that terminology kind of insulting to all the deer out there sweating out this hunting season? Anyway, to get back to Stagalon, the handle doesn’t quite match the look and feel of real stag, but it is kind of cool and it is nice.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my Uncle Henry Stagalon knife, other than look at it for awhile and write a blog about it. If I was a camper I suppose I could wear it in the woods, but I don’t camp much these days (in my golden years, I find I like motels a lot better). No, this knife will go on the shelf, along with a bunch of other “$100 Ships Free!” knives. It is kind of cool, though.
I’m not a Glock guy and it’s not likely I’ll ever own one, but Glock (a book by Paul M. Barrett about Gaston Glock and the pistols that carry his name) sure is an interesting read.
Gaston Glock surprised everyone when he submitted a bid with a new design for a military handgun. He surprised people even more when he won the competition, and then he (and the company that bears his name) were on their way. Glock ran a small-potatoes company in Austria that made automobile radiators. He knew nothing about firearms and military contracts. Maybe that was his advantage. Glock started with a clean sheet of paper, both for the gun’s design and his approach to market.
Barrett tells an interesting story about how Glock employed unorthodox marketing practices (practices involving a former porn princess and lots of company freebies) to become one of the most successful arms manufacturers on the planet. It really is a fascinating story. Corporate shenanigans, arms deals, palace intrigue, an attempt on Gaston Glock’s life, police shootouts, and more: Glock has it all.
I’ve shot Glocks (I have friends who own them). I get that they are inexpensive and reliable. I don’t like striker-fired (i.e., hammerless) trigger pulls and I’m not a big fan of Tupperware guns (even though my primary carry gun is a Tupperware Smith and Wesson), but I understand the reasons behind Glock’s success, and I understand those reasons even better now that I’ve read Barrett’s book. Trust me on this: If you’re interested in firearms and you want a good read, look no further than Glock. You can thank me later.
A.J. Baime writes a weekly “My Ride” column for the Wall Street Journal. It’s something I greatly enjoy. The stories are always interesting. Most of the time, the Baime columns are about cars. This week’s piece was about a motorcycle; to be specific, a 650 Royal Enfield twin. That’s a marvelous motorcycle. I know. I ride one. Mine is the orange one you see above.
Marc Forgione on his Royal Enfield 650 INT in New York City.
This week’s story was about a chef (Marc Forgione), a man who owns three restaurants in New York City. Mr. Forgione appropriately concluded that a motorcycle is a great way to navigate New York City’s traffic and parking challenges. I think that’s pretty cool. New York law does not allow splitting lanes, but my guess is that Forgione is a well-known guy and local police officers look the other way (Lord knows they have enough real crime on their beats). Lane splitting is legal here in California and I do it all the time. It really makes a difference in getting through congested areas; it was a way of life for us in Colombia and China.
Mr. Baime, our compliments on your Wall Street Journal column, and especially on the one you wrote for yesterday’s edition.
Very few (if any) final scenes have sparked as much discussion and controversy as the final Sopranos scene. Tony Soprano and his family are meeting for dinner at Holsten’s in Bloomfield, New Jersey, the fictional mob wars between the New York and New Jersey families have ended, and we think all is well. Their favorite local restaurant is Holsten’s, which Tony mentions in the series. Is it a real place?
Absolutely. And it’s good. We found Holsten’s and had lunch there (it’s at 1063 Broad Street in Bloomfield, New Jersey), and I was surprised. The place has to be the most famous small local restaurant in the world, and you’d think with the kind of publicity they’ve had, they wouldn’t be very good. People from literally all over the world (more on that in a minute) find their way to Holsten’s. But it is good. Very good, in fact. More on that in a minute, too.
I was able to park directly in front of Holsten’s, and as I was getting out, I noticed a young couple scrambling to cross the street and get into the restaurant. I had an idea why, so I slowed down a bit.
Okay, to make what I’m going to show you make sense, I need to tell you a bit about that last scene up front. In the photo below, there are three Holsten’s locations you need to know about. The photo below shows them as you enter the restaurant.
As you enter Holsten’s, there’s a long lunch counter and booths at the back of the restaurant. Arrow B points to where the likely hitman initially sat. Arrow A points to the small hallway that leads to the restrooms, where the shot that took out Tony was fired from. Arrow C points to the booth where Tony sat, enjoying his onion rings, when he got whacked.
That young couple racing to get into the restaurant? I was right. They were hustling to grab the booth all the way in the back, where Tony, Carmela, and AJ sat. In the Sopranos scene, Tony was flipping through the mini-jukebox on the table. Today it’s the only table in the restaurant that has that little jukebox. They used to be at every table in any New Jersey diner. Notice the sign denoting the booth, too.
We sat one booth up from the Sopranos’ booth and we started talking to the young couple I mentioned above. They were doing the same thing we were: hitting locations that appear in different Sopranos episodes. Sue told them we were from California. They told us they were from (get this) Poland! Yep, they flew all the way from Poland to do what we were doing. These folks were serious Sopranos fans. Check out his tattoos:
This is beyond being a mere fan, I think.Impressive. Christopher, Tony, Silvio, and Pauly. And before you ask: Yes, I know these are fictional characters.
You no doubt realize by now that I am a serious Sopranos fan. But I don’t have any tattoos denoting any of the characters in The Sopranos, and I have no plans to get any.
We had a lunch, and (as mentioned above), it was surprisingly good. I had a tuna melt. We ordered a plate of onion rings. Just minutes before he got whacked, Tony Soprano said they were the best onion rings in the state. I’ve sampled a lot of onion rings in New Jersey, and I think he was right.
The menu was simple. Our lunch selections were excellent. The people from Poland thought so, too.
We left feeling pretty good. I grabbed one more shot with my cell phone.
A parting shot: The Holsten’s storefront.
About that last scene: The audience never does find out exactly what happened. Tony looks up as Meadow (his daughter) is entering the restaurant, and the screen and the sound suddenly go to a silent black. Most people thought their TVs had gone out. I did. Then the credits start rolling by, and we realized that one of the best series ever, all six seasons of it, were over. It was brilliant.
Take a look, remembering the locations I pointed out in that photo above.
The Sopranos ExNotes Wrap Up (for now)
Well, sort of. I’m not entirely done with The Sopranos. This is the fourth (or maybe fifth) one of our blogs on The Sopranos, and I don’t have any more planned until the next trip back to the Garden State. About that “maybe fifth” business: One of The Sopranos episodes takes place in the New Jersey Pine Barrens. I rode the Pine Barrens when I did the piece on Jerry Dowgin’s Honda 305 Scrambler (rest in peace, Jerry). The Sopranos episode didn’t actually take place in the Pine Barrens, as anybody knows who’s ever been there (it was filmed in a forest somewhere in New York, and they didn’t even have pine trees). Parts of that episode were funny as hell, though, as you can see in this clip:
The other three Sopranos blogs we’ve done recently are:
I’ve been a motorcycle guy nearly all my life and I’ve owned several motorcycles. Only two of them were Harleys; the first was beautiful but terrible in many ways (a ’79 Electra Glide Classic). The second was beautiful and it was a great machine (a ’92 Heritage Softail). I think Harley’s styling on past models has been awesome. Bottom line? I’m not a Harley fanatic and I’m not a hater. It’s not likely I’d ever buy another Harley, unless I came across a cheap XR-1000 (and that’s probably not in the cards). All that said, I can tell you that the Harley-Davidson Museum is the best motorcycle museum (and maybe the best anything museum) I’ve ever visited (and I’ve visited a lot of them).
First, a bit of logistics about the Museum and our upcoming blogs. We were in Milwaukee specifically to visit the Museum along with a few other Milwaukee highlights. The Harley Museum is too much to take in with just a single visit, and it is definitely too much to cover in a single blog. Our Milwaukee schedule allowed only one Harley Museum visit, but I’ll cover it in three or four blogs. This is the first.
Sticking to the logistics for a moment, the Museum is easy to get to. Plug it into Waze and you’ll drive right up to their front door. There’s plenty of parking, and we snagged a handicap parking spot right at their front door (my handicap tag is the silver lining to a 2009 motorcycle accident). We visited the Museum on a weekday, so it was not too crowded. I’m guessing that’s not the case on the weekends.
Admission is reasonable at $24 per person; for us it was a little less because we qualify for the geezer discount (that knocks it down to $20 per person). Knowing Harley’s customer base, I think a lot of folks get in for $20.
The interior lighting was subdued. Flash photography is allowed, but it’s hard to get decent photos with flash. Nearly everything you see here is with ambient lighting. I had to crank up the Nikon’s ISO, so you may see some graininess in my photos. Mea culpa.
The Museum has three floors, and the building is huge. There are several permanent exhibits and a few special exhibits (ones that change from time to time). The exhibits (both permanent and special) include:
Motorcycle Galleries.
Mama Tried.
Mi Papi.
The Engine Room.
The Archives.
Military Motorcycles.
Clubs and Competition.
The Tank Wall.
Art and Engineering.
Motorcycle Galleries
The Motorcycle Galleries are on the first and second floors, and they dominate the Museum. The Motorcycle Galleries is an appropriate name. The first part is a 180-foot, three-motorcycle-wide display of motorcycles from Harley’s first 50 years, starting with their very first model. The second part features later Harleys.
It was a well assembled exhibit and the motorcycles are beautiful. As I walked the line and took in the motorcycles, I realized I had seen more than a few of these bikes in books. Seeing them in person was special.
Mama Tried
Mama Tried was a custom bike exhibit, containing all sorts of custom Harleys (not the wigged-out choppers you see at the motorcycle shows). I’m not sure what the name (Mama Tried) is supposed to mean, but I thought the exhibit was good. I was liked seeing the Knucklehead customized by Shinya Kimura, whom we’ve written about before.
Mi Papi Has A Motorcycle
You may remember that Joe Gresh wrote an ExNotes review a few years ago about the Spanish language kid’s book, Mi Papi Has A Motorcycle. The book impressed Gresh; apparently, it had the same effect on the Museum staff. There’s an entire hall with large storyboards taken from the book.
The Engine Room
The Engine Room was enlightening. I always found the history and names of Harley engines confusing. VL, UL, flatheads, you know…what do all those designations actually mean? I’m a mechanical engineer and I never could follow it all. The Engine Room made it all clear. We’ll have a future blog on it. This was one of the best parts of the Harley Museum.
The Archives
The Archives were something I’d read about before. An elevator takes you to the third floor. The archives are not open to the public, but you can peer in through a double wire fence. One of Elvis Presley’s motorcycles was near the fence.
Military Motorcycles
The Military Motorcycles exhibit features the Harleys used in World War II and it was the best exhibit of its type I’ve ever seen. This is a topic I’ve been interested in for a l0ng time, going back to before I wrote The Complete Book of Police and Military Motorcycles. There will be a separate blog on this exhibit. It was awesome.
Clubs and Competition
The Clubs and Competition exhibit features a board track with vintage race bikes and projected images of motorcycle racers (and accompanying engine sounds), vintage Harley hill climbers, and Joe Petrali’s land speed record Knucklehead. The Petrali streamliner was awesome.
The Tank Wall
The Tank Wall and the tank exhibits were intriguing. I’ve seen photos of it many times, but to see it in person had more of an impact. To me, the tanks and the engine are what make a Harley. It’s well done. I felt like a kid in a candy store more in this part of the Museum than anywhere else.
Art and Engineering
The Museum has a relatively new Art and Engineering exhibit, which is intended to show how art combines with engineering at Harley-Davidson. I was disappointed, especially because it was one of the main reasons I visited. I felt it was superficial and that it was basically a Harley-Davidson commercial, with almost nothing beyond a very light explanation of how Harley engineering is influenced by art. I get it; they go from sketches to clay mockups to metal, and they select colors along the way. Got it. They use CAD. Got it. Willie G is a wonderful human being, and so was an earlier designer/stylist named Brooks Stevens. Got it. I kind of knew all of that before I got on the airplane to go to Milwaukee (except for the part about Brooks Stevens; that was new to me).
When the motorcycling world discovered Willie G 50 years ago (in the days of the Super Glide, the XLCR Cafe Racer, the Electra Glide Classic, the Low Rider, etc.) there were lots of stories about how Harley went to motorcycle events and studied how riders customized their motorcycles. That was good stuff and those were good creativity inputs, but there was none of that in this exhibit. I was hoping to understand how Harley selected the style and the performance parameters for the new Sportster (a nice-looking motorcycle) and the Pan America (an ugly motorcycle, but all ADV bikes are), and maybe gain some insights into where Harley might go in the future. There was none of that.
I’m probably not a fair judge in this area. I taught engineering for 27 years at Cal Poly Pomona, I’ve had motorcycle engineering assignments related to Harley and other companies, and I wrote a book about engineering creativity. To be fair to Harley, they weren’t targeting retired engineering professors when they created the Art and Engineering exhibit. The exhibit had nice visuals, but for me it was devoid of any meaningful content. That said, we took in nine exhibits at the Harley Museum and only this one didn’t measure up to what I expected. The rest were all outstanding, and 8 out of 9 wins is a pretty good score in anybody’s book.
So there you have it: My Harley-Davidson Museum impressions. Sue and I had a good time. We were there for about three hours, but it would have been easy to spend the entire day. My disappointment in the Art and Engineering exhibit notwithstanding, I strongly recommend that anyone who rides or has even a passing interest in the American icon that is Harley-Davidson visit the Museum. It’s a bucket list destination. I’m glad I went.
At the tail end of our path through the Harley Museum, there’s an area with current model Harleys where you can sit on the bikes and take pictures. A nice guy from the Czech Republic offered to take a picture of Susie and me with my cell phone. It looks good. Our smiles are real.
I have a small, 12-volt Slime brand tire inflator that I carry on whichever bike I’m riding. It works well and is like 15 years old now. The main issue (I hate to say problem because it’s more of a design limitation) is that you have to connect it to the motorcycle’s battery. On the RD350 that’s not a big problem but on some bikes, like the ZRX1100, the battery is buried under a bunch of junk I store on the bike. You have to remove the dirty socks, chucks of broken concrete, a dried up Sharpie marker and last year’s Laguna Seca vintage racing schedule. That gains access to the battery door, then you have to slide the battery out to access the terminals.
Krabi is a rather large city and after having recently spent two weeks in Bangkok, I was really done with large cities. As with most cities you really cannot absorb the full culture there. Yes, there are museums, temples, and other tourist attractions, but to fully feel the true heartbeat of a region you need to travel off the beaten path, which in most cases means meandering around the countryside.
We sat one booth up from the Sopranos’ booth and we started talking to the young couple I mentioned above. They were doing the same thing we were: hitting locations that appear in different Sopranos episodes. Sue told them we were from California. They told us they were from (get this) Poland! Yep, they flew all the way from Poland to do what we were doing. These folks were serious Sopranos fans. Check out his tattoos:
