Physical Security

By Mike Huber

Okay, so having served in the United States Army I am always aware of my surroundings, my gear, and most importantly physical security of these items.  This is even more true nowadays as a fulltime traveler on my motorcycle.  This involves not leaving sensitive items on the motorcycle overnight and parking it near me (usually line of sight) or in a garage.  These habits have kept my gear safe over the past six years of traveling, not just in the United States but across the globe.

Upon waking up in Baltimore on November 2nd and looking out the window from my bedside I instantly was shocked to see that my BMW GS1250 was not in the parking spot where I had left it the day prior.  My heart sank.  Not only was the bike gone but so was a lot of my gear.  Non-sensitive items thankfully were inside my friend’s house where I was staying.  I combed the parking spot to see if I could find any pieces from the bike or any type of clue as to what happened.  There was nothing.  The bike was just gone.

I was devastated to say the least.  The GS1250 still had its temporary tags on it; that’s how new it was. What hurt me even more was the panniers with dozens of stickers identifying where I had traveled.  They were gone along with some sentimental items from the Army that were kept locked in them.

Within five minutes of calling the Baltimore police, three officers showed up, took the report, and fully understood my pain.  They issued an alert for the missing motorcycle, which was my home.

It only took two hours and my phone rang.   They had found the BMW two blocks away. I quickly ran down to meet the officer and was anxious to view what was left of the bike (if anything) and my gear.  The bike had a few thousand dollars in damage, mostly from whoever took it snapping the steering lock to push it into this dark alley. Amazingly, most of my gear was intact, but the panniers were destroyed from the thieves prying them open with a crowbar (I’m assuming).  Some of the gear was still hanging off the panniers and some of it was thrown all over the alley.  Fortunately, my losses only included my raingear, air mattress, tool kit, and my fishing pole. I asked the officer to alert the Coast Guard as obviously the thieves were going to blow up the air mattress and go fishing in Chesapeake Bay.  Even in times of darkness I find humor to lighten the mood, if for nothing else but my own sanity.

So the police found my bike, but it wouldn’t start due to the steering lock being destroyed.  That began a painful day of finding a local BMW dealer, calling a tow truck, and beginning the paperwork for the insurance claim. I was still extremely distraught and depressed over the whole incident, and rightfully so. Over the years my mindset has changed from the “woe is me” negative thinking to a more positive one of “maybe this is meant to be and had the bike not been taken I possibly could have been injured or killed in a wreck that day.”  It sounds cheesy, but I do believe this. Having a positive outlook helps take a bit of the pain away, even if momentarily.

Luckily for me I have incredible friends pretty much all over the world.  The decision to rent a car was a no brainer.  It would be a fun way to kill a couple of weeks and Kia Kamp while the bike was being repaired.  I could continue the “Mike Huber friends and family tour.”  This would not only occupy my time but reassure me that even though I was going through a difficult time, being surrounded by beautiful friends would provide the inspiration and confidence to move forward.  This is not to say that a few times a day I don’t feel an emptiness in my gut.  Having traveled so much of the world and especially doing so by motorcycle where I am so exposed has provided much more good than bad throughout the years.  If you get off your couch and go live sometimes bad things happen, but more often than not you meet wonderful people and build relationships with new friends for life.

Lessons Learned

Sadly, this isn’t the first time I had a motorcycle stolen.  I had a brand new Suzuki GSXR750 stolen when I was in college at Boston University.  That moto was never recovered, but I immediately bought a caliper lock for my next motorcycle.  This provided comfort, but it would not stop three or four big guys from simply picking the bike up and throwing it in the back of a truck. I stopped using the caliper lock when I bought my first BMW GS (in hindsight, this was not a good move).  I didn’t think stolen BMWs were in as much demand as the Japanese motos.

There are motion alarms, airtags, and a ton of other security devices out there that I am sure I will be writing about in the near future.  For now the bike is back and the panniers have a clean canvas to start over and begin adding new stickers.  My travels will continue after a brief hiatus as we await BMW parts from the Motherland.

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Filoli, Xi, Biden, and Moto Diplomacy

By Joe Berk

You probably know about the meeting between Joe Biden and Xi Jinping last week.  What you might not know about is Woodside, California, and the Filoli estate where they met.  As always, we want our ExNotes readers to be knowledgeable and up to date, and that’s the focus of this article.  I’ve actually been to and photographed the Filoli estate and mansion, and I’ve written a bit about Woodside before.

The Filoli mansion was built in 1917 for William Bourn II, who by any measure was a wealthy guy.  He owned one of California’s richest gold mines and was president of the Spring Valley Water Company that served San Francisco and its surrounding areas.  If you are wondering about the name, it’s formed by the first two letters of each word from of Bourn’s motto: Fight for a just cause; Love your fellow man; Live a good life.

The Filoli mansion and its gardens occupy 16 acres; the entire estate covers 654 acres and extends to the Crystal Springs Reservoir (which still provides water to San Francisco).  If you drive south on the 280 freeway from San Francisco (it follows the San Cruz Mountain range), you can see the reservoir on the right.

Big mansions are expensive to maintain and hard to keep up.  That’s why a lot of the big ones have been donated by the families that owned them to the state or other organizations and opened to the public for tours.  It’s what the Hearst family did with Hearst Castle further south, and it is what happened to the Filoli mansion.  The Filoli mansion and surrounding grounds are now owned by the National Trust for Historic Preservation.  For a modest fee you can visit and walk through the same rooms and gardens as Xi and Biden.  It’s cool.  I did it in 2019 and here are a few Filoli photos from that visit.

A bit more about the town of Woodside:  Woodside is one of the wealthiest places in America.  A partial list of the big names who live or have lived in Woodside include Charles Schwab (yes, that Charles Schwab), Steve Jobs, Michelle Pfeiffer (the classiest actress ever), Joan Baez, Nolan Bushnell (the founder of Atari and the Chuck E. Cheese restaurant chain), Scott Cook (the founder of Intuit), Carl Djerassi (a novelist and the guy who developed the birth control pill), Larry Ellison (the CEO of Oracle Corporation), James Folger (as in need a cup of coffee?), Kazuo Hirai (the CEO of Sony), Mike Markkula (the second Apple CEO), Gordon E. Moore (Intel’s co-founder and originator of Moore’s Law), Prince Vasili Alexandrovich (the nephew of Tsar Nicholas II of Russia), Shirley Temple, John Thompson (Symantec’s CEO), and Nick Woodman (founder and CEO of GoPro).  Woodside is within commuting distance of Silicon Valley, so it’s understandable, I guess, why so many high-rolling Silicon Valley types call it home.

This is an interesting and beautiful area.   The Pacific Ocean is just on the other side of the San Cruz range, and a circumnavigation of these mountains makes for a hell of a motorcycle ride (see our earlier blog and the article I wrote for Motorcycle Classics magazine).

I don’t know if Xi and Biden accomplished much during their meeting.  If I had organized their visit, I would have left all the entourage folks behind and given Uncles Joe and Xi a map and a couple of RX3 motorcycles.  They would have had a better time and probably emerged with a better agreement.  A good motorcycle ride will do that for you.

You know, we don’t do politics on ExNotes, but I have to get in a comment here.  There ought to be a win-win solution to our current disagreements with China.  I think if I could be king of the U.S. for about six months (not President, but King) and good buddy Sergeant Zuo from our ride across China could be King of China for the same time period, we could go for another ride and figure it all out.  I’d bring Gresh along to keep it interesting and I’d get another book out of it, too.  That’s my idea, anyway.

If you’d like to read more about Joe Gresh’s and my ride across China with Sergeant Zuo, you should pick up a copy of Riding China.

And if you’d like to read about Gresh and me riding across America with the Chinese, you need a copy of 5000 Miles at 8000 RPM.

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Season of Change: Part 2

By Mike Huber

I was about to consume ayahuasca for the 11th time in my life.

The twelve of us gathered in the yurt around 19:30. Having previously participated in ten ceremonies, the process felt natural and comfortable. That’s not to say that I wasn’t scared, but I was familiar with this beautiful plant.  Most importantly I trusted the plant and the people overseeing my consumption of it.

In the past, the first night for me was not that painful and was more of a “getting to know you” feeling. Normally it was a very pleasant experience. I would see a lot of colors and just the entire universe would unfold in front of me. The second night is when the effects of this medicine would become serious and step up intensely.

This would not be the case tonight. Within 30 minutes of setting my intentions, consuming the brew, and the singing of beautiful icaros (native Peruvian songs) by the facilitators, I began to feel the effects. About this time is when the hallucinations began along with an uneasiness in my stomach. One of the side effects of drinking this medicine is that purging, or vomiting, is a frequent occurrence.

What I am about to describe is my ayahuasca journey.  Full disclosure: A lot of it won’t make any sense, but it is the outcome that I want to highlight. The hallucinations first came as a beautiful black panther crawling up my mat to sit in front of me. It was so close and real that I could feel the vibrations of it purring as we sat face to face for some time just staring at each other. I thought this was a new form of an introduction. The muscular black panther disappeared after a short time and at the instance of his departure I was instantly thrust into a hellish scene with a red sky and fire everywhere. The only structures visible were totem poles made of fire, and they were screaming at me.  I then began to violently throw up into a bucket (which I had placed exactly where I could find it in the dark). This went on for…well, until I was finished reliving every mistake I had ever made in my life.  Every time I’d been rude to someone.  Every time I had put someone down. Every time I had doubted myself.  Every time.  Once that was over, I felt like one does when awakening from a bad dream, still having that feeling the dream was real.  It was that feeling, but it was multiplied a thousand times.

After the ceremony the host came by and checked in with us all. I was still pretty shaken.  I was putting the evening back together to try to ground myself.

Upon formal closure of the ceremony a group of us went inside the house to have tea and discuss our individual experiences.  I sat quietly in the corner of the room listening to everyone’s stories.  They were all beautiful and gentle. I was still reliving the hell I was shown.  It would be a night of very little sleep for me.

The next day I was DONE. I was ready to leave and not stay for another ceremony. The day began with me crying inside my tent and really not much else. I talked with my friend who ran the retreat sharing my feelings about leaving.  For me, even thinking I would quit is unheard of. I am a paratrooper and we do not quit! But that first night was so painful it was hard to imagine another two evenings like it.  My friend shook it off as part of the growing experience. I knew he wasn’t wrong.

The next night not only did I attend ceremony, but I requested a 20% higher dose. As I drank it I said aloud “Run towards the sounds of guns” and tapped one of the practitioners and said “Hey, please look out for me I may need some help tonight.”  He promptly replied, “I’ve got you!”

I returned to my mat to set my intentions for that evening and waited to see what this next ceremony would bring.

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ExNotes Product Review: Continental Twinduro TKC-80 Motorcycle Tire

By Joe Gresh

I’m probably the worst person to review a motorcycle tire. Round and black are my two major criteria for tire performance. If the tire meets those benchmarks it’s okay by me. I’m not sensitive enough and I don’t ride fast enough to push any tire to its limits and I couldn’t tell you if brand A is better than brand B on the street if my life depended on it. Which is why the Continental TKC-80 is such a revelation on the Husqvarna SMR510.

It’s not easy to find a decent 17-inch front tire for the dirt. The front tires I had been running on the SMR510 were those hokey, 70%-street/30%-dirt or 80%-street/20%-dirt tires that are all really just street tires with a few extra adventure-grooves cut into the tread pattern. The street-based tires worked well on the street (see my criteria above) but were horrible on the dirt. The Husky’s front end would push through corners completely devoid of grip or feedback.  I had to sort of square off turns: enter straight, come to a near stop, change direction and exit under throttle.

I don’t need the Husky for street duty now that the Kawasaki ZRX1100 is running.  Long time ExhaustNotes readers may recall my failed efforts to convert the Husky’s tiny, 17-inch front wheel to a more dirt appropriate 21-inch size. That was a real debacle that cost me hundreds of dollars resulting in the 17-inch wheel going back on the front of the motorcycle.

Having wasted so much blood and treasure on the front wheel conversion and coming up empty I decided to try the tire everyone told me to get in the first place: Continental’s mostly off-road TKC-80. Originally made for giant, 600-pound ADV bikes I figured the TKC-80 should hold up well on the lightweight Husqvarna.

The improvement is so dramatic even I can tell something good happened between the Husqvarna’s handle grips and the ground. The Husky actually steers in the dirt now. It goes in the general direction you point the handlebars. I can take a corner in the dirt leaning the bike over like I’m on pavement and the front end feels planted. It’s like I have a whole ‘nother end of the motorcycle to work where there was nothing but push before. Soft sand is no problem, graded roads with a thin layer of dust and pebbles feel almost grippy. I haven’t been in the mud yet but the 80 has to be better than the slick tires I was running.

Needless to say I’m sold on the TKC-80, so naturally there is some confusion (on my part) about the future availability of the 80 series. Apparently, there was a recall on a bunch of Continental tires including the 80 series due to tread cracking. The best I can sort out from the Internet is that TKC tires built between January 2019 and April 2022 are affected by the recall. I’m not even going to look at the date code on my tire because I’m not taking it off. One of my moto-insider buddies says Continental is discontinuing the TKC-80 series. I haven’t found confirmation on that but as of today you can still buy them. I have noticed that TKC-80s online have gone up quite a bit since I bought mine at $120 a copy.

If you own one of the Super Motard type bikes with 17-inch rims and want to play around in the dirt without having to convert your front wheel to 21-inch, the TKC-80 is your tire. There is no cheaper or easier way to improve the front end of your motorcycle. I can’t speak to the TKC- 80’s longevity as I only have around 500 miles on mine and it shows little wear. If the thing lasts 2000-3000 miles it’s well worth it for the offroad performance. Hopefully I’ll be able to buy another one in the future because it’s about the only option for a 17-inch knobby that will fit the Husky’s wide rims.

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SIG’s M18 versus the S&W Shield

I had a chance to fire the new SIG M18 9mm handgun, which was recently added to the California Department of Justice roster of approved handguns here in the People’s Republik.   I was impressed with the M18’s accuracy, grouping, comfort level, feel, and sights.  I love the desert tan colors.  I was not impressed with the trigger (more on that in a bit).

It was a good day on my local indoor pistol range, and as I was leaving, my good buddy Shannon asked where I’ve been (I hadn’t been there in a few weeks).  “Overseas,” I told her.  She then pointed to the new M18 SIGs they had in the display case and asked if I’d like to try one.  That reminded me of the old joke about the guy with the wooden eye.  I responded with an affirmative and rhetorical, “Would I?”

The venerable 1911. It’s chambered in .45 ACP.  All steel and with a Parkerized finish, as God intended. In my opinion, you can’t improve on perfection, but the Army had other ideas.

A bit of background:  The US Army and I have something in common:  We change handguns on a regular basis.  The Army had been using the venerable .45 ACP 1911 since about, well, 1911.   It served the Army well (and still serves well in certain special ops units), but the Army decided it wanted something better.  That led to adoption of the 9mm Beretta 92 (designated as the M9 for the military) in 1985.  I never cared for the Beretta, so I’ve never owned one and I can’t tell you anything about how it shoots or feels. The M9 had pushed out my beloved 1911, so I didn’t like it.  Period.  No handling or testing required.

The Army wanted a smaller pistol cartridge, and it settled on the Beretta M9. The M9 has an aluminum frame.  Bob likes it.

The Army quickly decided it didn’t much like the Beretta, either.  But the Army is big and it moves slowly when it’s not lobbying for more funding from Congress, and it wasn’t until 2017 that they decided to go with a militarized version of the 9mm SIG P320.  There are two versions of the new military handgun:  The M17, which has a 4.7-inch barrel, and the M18, with a 3.9-inch barrel.  Both are full sized handguns with magazines carrying a gazillion rounds, and until recently, neither was available to lowly and untrustworthy civilians here in the People’s Republik of Kalifornia.  Nah, scratch that.  Lowly or not, trustworthy or not, no California civilians could purchase either of the new SIGS, although weirdly, we could purchase the civilian gun from which it was derived, the SIG P320.  Go figure.

The SIG P320, the gun the M17 and M18 handguns are based on.  All three guns (the P320, the M17, and the M18) have a polymer gripframe.  You can tell they’re swell (I’m not going to explain that comment; you have to be old enough to get it).
The 9mm SIG M17. Note the longer barrel length.
The gun I fired: The SIG M18.

The SIG M18 recently appeared on the California Department of Justice approved handguns roster.   That’s just a bit on the weird side, too, because the M18 is the version with the shorter (i.e., slightly more concealable) barrel.   You’d think in their wholesome attempts to keep us pure our legislators would have approved the longer-barreled M17.  Maybe they will in the future.

The Rock Island Compact 1911. This is a short barreled, shorter grip frame 1911 chambered in .45 ACP.
My Smith and Wesson Shield. It has a very short barrel compared to either the SIG M17 or M18, which makes my shooting with it a bit less accurate.

I had fun on the range.  I shot a box of .45 ammo in my Compact 1911, and then two boxes of ammo in my Smith and Wesson Shield.  I was doing pretty good with both, too.  It’s a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.  As I was leaving the range, Shannon told me about the new M18s they had in stock and offered a trial run, so I put a box of 50 rounds through one of them.

I used a 6:00 hold on the orange bullseye on both targets, and I fired 50 rounds at each. The Shield target is on the left; the SIG target is on the right. Both guns are good enough; the M18 is surprisingly accurate.

As I said above, I didn’t care for the M18 trigger (the M18 is a striker-fired handgun; give me a hammer-fired gun any day).  But the thing was accurate, even with the Joe Biden trigger (it was clumsy and creepy).  I put nearly all 50 rounds through a single jagged hole at my point of aim 10 yards downrange, and then I started hitting low with the last few rounds.   The few that dropped a bit below the orange bullseye were entirely due to me being tired and shaky (it wasn’t the gun; I was coming up on 200 rounds in that range session and I’m an old man).  The bottom line:  I like the new M18.  A lot.  I may buy one somewhere down the road, unless the M17 gets approved in California first.

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The Motorado Vintage Motorcycle Meet, Santa Fe, New Mexico

By Joe Gresh

We were flying low and slow, like vatos do, heading north from Mountainair, New Mexico. The Mud Chuckers, one on a Buell 1000, one on a Kawasaki Vulcan 750 and me on the 1974 Yamaha RD350. It had been a few years since the last Motorado event and we decided to ride up as a group. Covid and inertia combined to equal a 4-year gap since the last Motorado event. Last year in 2022 we held an unofficial Motorado rump-meet at the traditional location. About 15 old bikes showed up and no one drank beer because the pub was closed. There was a swap meet going on and we drew some interested lookie-loos. It was better than nothing for sure and I was prepared to go do it again this year but the real Motorado got on the pipe.

Saturday’s weather was warm and sunny and none of us felt in the mood to go very fast so we burbled along at 50 miles per hour enjoying the beautiful, two-lane New Mexico scenery. Traffic was typically light.  Three cars passed us. At this stately pace the old two-cycle, twin cylinder Yamaha RD350 progressed 58 miles for each gallon of gas. That number would be a lot more impressive except the ancient, 1950’s era Sportster motor powering Mike’s Buell did 68 miles per gallon. Long stoke, four stroke, no poke, no joke.

A Vulcan 750, an RD350, and a Buell.

The unofficial, official motel for Motorado 2023 was the Sunset Motel in Moriarity, New Mexico. The Sunset is laid back and low slung just like us. You don’t get breakfast at the Sunset but you do get a monster homemade muffin, which is almost the same thing. After getting settled in our rooms we rode off to get dinner at Shorty’s BBQ joint.

Shorty’s has the best BBQ brisket in Moriarity but the place is always in kind of an identity crisis. The first time I ate at Shorty’s the walls were covered with Jesus stuff, bible quotes and crosses.  A few years later I stopped by and the entire restaurant was a shrine to Donald Trump. The Mud Chucker’s are about as far from liberal as you can get, but are also not too fond of The Donald so I feared the worse going in, but the décor had changed again. Now the place was Jesus-lite® without a single reference to our 45th President and a marked reduction in Christian symbolism. You get to experience Shorty’s political and spiritual evolution through the walls of his establishment and eat a great brisket sandwich to boot.

Late September in New Mexico is prime motorcycle riding season. The mornings are cool, gradually warming to hot afternoons. Elevation changes and drifting clouds create a seesawing temperature landscape. The Mud Chuckers were moving slowly on Sunday morning and I’m of that certain age where I no longer care whether I arrive anywhere at any particular time, so we managed to pull out of the motel around 11 a.m. From the Sunset, it’s a straightish shot up Highway 41, through Galisteo to Highway 285 and then north a few miles to the Motorado.

There was a good crowd at the 2023 Motorado. It looked to me as though they had not lost any attendance despite the 4-year layoff. All brands of old bikes were represented and several shops had booths selling whatever it is they sold. I hit the Motorado T-shirt booth first but they weren’t set up to take credit cards and I had a limited amount of cash on hand.  Once again it was no T-shirt for me. This whole T-shirt thing is out of control.

One of my dream bikes, a Kawasaki Avenger 350. These disc valve two strokes were pretty fast back then and still fast today.
High pipes on a Norton P-11.  This is pre-isolastic mounting so you get to feel every vibration the parallel twin puts out.
Every Motorado I see a bike I never knew existed. Here’s a Taurus diesel that looks a lot like Royal Enfield running gear strapped to a diesel engine.
This over restored but still beautiful Ariel Square Four was a stunner. I hung around to hear it run but got tired of waiting.
The oldest bike at the event, a 1906 Fairy opposed twin. Not sure of the horsepower but they made 2-1/2 to 8 horsepower models. I bet the 8 was a real screamer.
This bike is the great grand-daddy to the RD350. Two generations behind the RD it’s still a sweet looking bike.

After a few passes we had seen pretty much all the bikes in the show and the swap meet. The Chuckers and I took the long way home on the Turquoise Trail through Madrid, New Mexico and got back to the Sunset motel at Sunset. Moriarity rolls up the sidewalks on Sunday night and all the regular places were closed so we retreated to a 24-7 truck stop that had the worse spaghetti ever made, and then we called it a night. It’s tough eating night-spaghetti.

The morning ride from Moriarity was brisk bordering on cold and our rag-tag group made the 200-mile rode low and at our now standard slowpoke speed. I’m very happy the Motorado is back in business and barring another world-stopping pandemic I hope they stage many more years of vintage shows. As long they hold the meet I’ll be riding an old bike up to Santa Fe to check out the hardware. I’ll see you there next year. Swing by the Sunset Motel and we can ride the last 50 miles together.

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Second Time Around: Cast Bullets in the 7mm Remington Magnum

By Joe Berk

I had a good morning at the West End Gun Club recently.  I shot the 6.5 Creedmoor rifles, a .223 Browning Micro Medallion, and Jim Gardner’s powder-coated cast bullets in a 7mm Remington Magnum Ruger No. 1.  I might get around to writing about the other rifles, but for today, the focus is on the 7mm Magnum No. 1 and powder-coated cast bullets.  I’ve written about shooting 7mm cast bullets in the No. 1 before; those results were mediocre and the barrel leaded enough after five rounds that accuracy went to hell (I had to clean the bore with a bristle brush after ever group).  The powder coating Jim applies makes a difference.  The Gardner powder-coated bullets did not lead the barrel (at all) and the results were good.  I think I’ve finally found a decent cast bullet load for this rifle.

I have had a lot of difficulty making this rifle perform with the powder-coated cast bullets.  It was apparent they weren’t leading like my other cast bullets had, but they weren’t very accurate.  Neck sizing only, which often improves accuracy, compounded the felony.  It didn’t work well at all, mostly because I couldn’t chamber most of the rounds (even though they had been fired in the same 7mm Magnum Ruger No. 1 rifle).  I also tried seating the bullets further out, but one got stuck when I chambered a round and when I removed it, the bullet came out of the case and Trail Boss propellant spilled all over the guts of the rifle.  That led to it not extracting, so I had to disassemble the action and clean everything.  I also tried crimping, but those rounds weren’t any better.

This morning’s batch were full length resized, not trimmed, and not crimped.  I flared the case mouth just a tiny bit to let the Gardner powder -coated bullets enter without shaving any of the powder coating or the lead, and I seated them a little deeper so that they did not contact the rifling.  When I seated the bullets this time, they expanded the case mouth just enough to eliminate the flare.  This batch chambered easily.

I had one round left over from a previous batch, and I fired it first (all shots are and groups discussed here were 50 yards from a rest).  That one round was left over because it wouldn’t chamber the previous time I had the rifle out because the case had deformed slightly when I overcrimped it.  I had to run that round through the full length resizer (bullet and all, with the decapping pin removed) so it would chamber.  It was my first shot of the day and it shot a little to the right (as you can see above).  That first group was the biggest group of the morning.

I then shot four more groups, and all the rest grouped nicely.

At 50 yards, these aren’t what I would call amazing groups, but they are getting better and that one half-inch group shows promise.  I bought a thousand of the Gardner powder coated bullets, so it’s nice to know I can get then to work.  The powder charge was 18 grains of Trail Boss, dispensed (not individually measured).  I may go out to a hundred yards on the next outing to see how they perform.  But where they are, I’d feel comfortable chasing rabbits with them.

The tricks to this load were full length resizing, no crimp, very slight case mouth flare, 18.0 grains of Trail Boss, Winchester large rifle primers, Remington brass, and a cartridge overall length of 3.127 inches.  I’m going to try this load again.  The brass is in the tumbler now.

I’m pleased with the Gardner powder-coated bullets, and if you’re interested in purchasing some, you might take a look at Jim’s website.

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A Season of Change

By Mike Huber

Having recently turned 50 and even though I feel it has been a super intense and successful ride (I’m still alive, so I guess that’s a barometer for success), I felt myself falling into a rut. I was unfulfilled in my job and things were just…blah. A close friend of mine made this analogy:  When things tend to go flat for me I come in the room and flip the table over and the game board and pieces go flying everywhere.  Well, it was time to flip the table again, and to do it with authority.

My job had been a great vehicle in my life for college, certifications, and traveling the world, but it seemed to have broken down on a desolate desert road with radiator fluid spewing all over the cactus that surrounded it.  My management and the leaders above me were spectacular, but I was stuck and having been there for 21 years, I felt it was time to move on.  My boss, after laying others off, didn’t look too well as he prepared me for the news over a video call.  I wanted to volunteer for the layoff and simply said, “Sir, this will be the easiest call you have all day.”  I had a Cuban cigar and a glass of whiskey ready when I heard the numbers.  I instantly knew I had made the right decision when I felt a massive weight lift off me.

What to do with my life now was the next question. It didn’t take me long to realize I should blast out on the bike to figure it out.  While riding through Joshua Tree National Park I reflected on my time in Peru. I took a trip up the Amazon and at a friend’s suggestion I tried this mystical hallucinogenic drink called ayahuasca under the guidance of a Peruvian shaman. It was an intense experience (to say the least) and it was a solid restart of my entire system. I felt as though it was time for this sacred drink again.

After a 3-month ride to British Columbia (nothing is ever a direct route for me) and experiencing some failures with the motorcycle, I arrived at my friend’s retreat.  Ayahuasca isn’t a pleasant experience for me.  It is a lot of work.  You face your true inner self, even if you don’t want to.  This can be painful and ugly. It is intense.  In my life, there are two things that scared me:  Exiting an aircraft in flight and drinking ayahuasca.  Everything else is manageable.

I was beyond nervous so I thought prior to arriving I would throw a few casts out to kill an hour or two. My first cast I caught a beautiful bass.

The preparation for these ceremonies was not something to be taken lightly.  This includes a very strict diet of no processed food or alcohol, and meats limited to chicken, turkey, or fish.  The bass was a perfect meal to share with my new friends.

I arrived on my semi-trusty BMW GS1200 (the semi part is an0ther story) and pitched my tent where I would sleep after the ceremonies.  There were 11 others that would be drinking along with 2 practitioners overseeing the ceremony.  It would take place at 20:00 (that’s 8:00 p.m.) in a yurt on a beautiful piece of land next to a large river. It was the perfect setting and time for me to be in this place.

I was beyond scared to drink this medicine again, but I knew it would provide the life guidance I wanted. Having taken ayahuasca in Peru, I felt confident and familiar with the effects; however, I didn’t expect the impact it would have on me this time.

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ExNotes Review: Oxilam LED H4 Headlight Bulb

By Joe Gresh

The Carrizozo Mudchuckers and I took a spin over to Jerome, Arizona last week. The trip was around 1200 miles all in and we ran late getting home, which meant I had to ride 100 miles in the dark. Normally I avoid night riding because most of my motorcycles have terrible headlights and my night vision was dim before I had both my cataracts replaced with new lenses. Plus, at night you can’t see anything except the road ahead.  It’s pretty boring.

For the Jerome trip I was riding the Kawasaki ZRX1100; that bike has the best headlight out of every motorcycle I own. To my surprise the night ride was not as bad as I thought. I could see fairly well and made it home without running into an elk. Which got me thinking about the shorter days of fall and the fact that I sort of enjoyed that 100 miles of darkness. Could I improve on the acceptable Kawasaki headlight?

Enter the Oxilam LED H4 bulbs I purchased on sale from Amazon at $39, shipping included. They are a tad pricey but you do get two of them. Oxilam’s ad copy makes wild claims about 500% brighter and 10,000-hour life span. I can’t speak to the lifespan but the bulb sure doesn’t look 500% brighter.

The Oxilam came securely packaged in a nifty carton with a fitted foam insert. Included in the box was a pair of gloves so that you don’t get your greasy fingers all over your nice, new bulbs. It’s a beautiful product presentation and gives a real sense of value to the whole operation.

Installation was easy as pie: remove your old bulb and insert the new one. The dimensions of the Oxilam are nearly the same as a standard H4 bulb so you don’t have a big heat sink or cooling fan jutting out the back of your headlight housing.

The Oxilam has a tiny cooling fan built into the front of the bulb. That worries me a bit but I’m rolling the dice here. Some reviews of the Oxilams claim the fan to be noisy. I don’t see how such a tiny fan can make much noise and I can’t hear it.

I couldn’t find a watt rating anywhere except an ad copy line stating the bulb draws a similar amount of current as a standard H4 so computers will not act up thinking a bulb is out. Lumens are a claimed 18,000 so I guess that’s good.

Maybe not 500% brighter but the Oxilam LED bulb is noticeably brighter than the original 24 year-old halogen bulb it replaced. Low beam is a lot better with a sharp cutoff so you don’t blind oncoming cars. Low beam is wide and bright.  The 6500 kelvin white light makes colors pop a bit more at night. Grass looks greener and the road edge is more obvious. The light produced is evenly distributed without any hot spots. It’s really wonderful. The Oxilam is worth it to me for the improved low beam performance.

High beam was also improved but not as dramatically as low beam. High beam seemed to reach a little farther out than stock and the white color was nice. One drawback to the increased lighting power was that reflective road signs were very bright on high beam, bright enough to cause me to drop back to low beam until the sign was passed. Installed in the ZRX lens there is an overly bright spot 10 feet ahead of the front wheel, I feel those lumens could be put to better use 100 feet down the road. I suspect the Oxilam will project differently depending on which headlight housing it is installed.

The Oxilam bulbs are worth the $39 to me. With my creaky vision I need every advantage I can get at night. It was actually not bad riding in the dark with the Oxilam and the new bulb will extend my riding time by a few hours each day. That’s got to be worth something, right?

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Riding the Dark Side: My Switch to Scooters

By Rob Morel

So at 66½ years old my health is not what it used to be. I’ve sold all my “nice” bikes and now ride two scooters, a 1985 Honda CH150 Elite around town and I just bought a 2008 Suzuki Burgman 400 for distance travel.

I had a hip replacement 2 years ago. That’s working really good now. Bone spurs on lower back made it very painful swinging a leg over to get on and off a regular motorcycle, plus just riding on a bike all day was not fun anymore with the dagger like pain in my neck and back, which I’ve had for years. I could just roll with it in younger days.  I can’t do that anymore.  I’ve had immense fun going on motorcycle camping trips in the Pacific Northwest, Canada, Baja, several National Parks, and more places with the two Joes (Gresh and Berk). All great memories.

A few months ago, a friend had a scooter he wanted to sell. The price was something I couldn’t walk away from. My friend told me $100 and you can come get it. The short story was it was stolen years ago, recovered, and then sat outside for years. The people that stole it tried to paint it black over the nice original red color. Being left out in the weather resulted in a lot of rust, and it gummed up every control that needed to be able to move. Leafcutter bees made homes in every nook and cranny. Under the plastic I found hordes of dead bugs and cobwebs. The brakes were not working due to the bugs and water had entered the drums and rusted them.

I figured if I could get it running without too much effort it would be worth tackling the other issues. I took the carb apart and cleaned it by soaking it in ultra sonic cleaner, and I poked little wires through the jets that were plugged solid with old gas. I added a new air cleaner and battery. To my surprise, it started and idled okay. Then I replaced the old tires with new ones, oiled the cables, took the switches apart and blew out the dead critters, and lubed them. The fuel tank looked like it came off the Exxon Valdez. It was all rusty inside. So I rinsed it several times and got chunks of rust to come out as well as the gas that had turned to turpentine. Just to make sure, I installed two inline fuel filters on the gas line. I also added a new fuel vacuum petcock. Basically, I just gave it the tender loving care it needed from years of neglect. Five hundred bucks later, I rode it around and got all the lights working. I next took the constant velocity transmission apart and cleaned it, lubed it, installed a new belt, and Bob’s your Uncle. It’s a fun little scoot that gets up to 55 mph.

After riding the scooter around I noticed my back wasn’t hurting like it used to. I think the sitting position and not having to spread my legs apart like on a regular motorcycle relieved the pain. Or maybe it was the potholes my city is famous for pounding on my spine that did the trick. I’m hoping the the scooter will carry me into my goldener years and I can keep riding.

I’m now familiar with the term “Rat Rod.” I named my scooter “Tetanus Shot.” Every time I look at it, I feel like I need a tetanus shot. So does everyone else, especially the Harley guys I park next to at our coffee shop. I park next to them on purpose.

With the comfort and fun of riding Tetanus Shot around, I figured that if I could sell my 2009 BMW F650GS (a great bike) and my little Chinese 400 thumper road bike, I would have the money to buy a maxi scooter. After the customary searching and reading all about the big boy scooters, I decided that a Suzuki Burgman 400 would be a good long distance scooter. I found one an hour away with 5200 miles. It was a 2008. I rode it and thought it would do all this old geezer needed. $3600 later, I rode it home.

It didn’t take long to get familiar with the Suzuki’s handling and power, which surprised me when I left the seller’s gravel driveway and the rear end broke loose from too much throttle on the gravel lane.

Accessories I installed to make comfier included heated grips, a 3D-printed throttle lock, a rear trunk for added storage, a cell phone holder, a GPS mount, and handlebar shields to keep bugs and stones from hitting my hands and cold weather riding. I added wiring for my heated jacket, a wind screen extension, and a Roto-Pak mount on the trunk for extended gas range. I took the rider’s seat back rest and made it taller to support my back better.

A few weeks ago, I wanted to take one more 4-5 day trip before the weather turned wet and cold. I loaded clothes, tools, extra gas, and the various other assorted things I take on bike trips, and pointed the Burgy towards Seattle.

1250 miles later I can say I really enjoyed riding the big Suzuki scooter. I had no problem running 75 to 80mph on Interstate 5 through Seattle’s rush hour traffic. Vibration was very minimal. Wind protection was good. I noticed the large wind screen would really wobble at speed and when cross winds hit it. The seating position was very comfortable and I could move and stretch my legs more than on a motorcycle.

One thing not as good as my motorcycles was not being able to stand up while going down the road to stretch my legs and cool the nether regions when it was hot. I could do it, but it was a very different sensation than a motorcycle.

My back was pain free while riding all day. My back would hurt and remind me after I stopped, but it is what it is .

My Suzuki’s fuel consumption was 55-65 mpg, which surprised me because at 70 mph the engine was turning around 7000 rpm. The Burgy’s 3.4-gallon fuel tank provides a 150 to 180 mile range, which is just right for a needed rest. My 1-gallon Roto-Pak for extended range was emptied several times.

The route was Walla Walla to Yakima, over Snoqualmie Pass into Seattle. I rode up Interstate 5 to Burlington to visit my best customer. Then it was north to Bellingham to see the Grizzly Machine tool store. Then we turned down to Seattle. I spent a night with a friend. I rode down Interstate 5 to Kelso, crossed the Columbia River, I next headed west to Astoria, and then it was down Oregon 101 to Lincoln City for the night. The next day I rode down to Newport, east to Albany, Oregon, then up Interstate 5 to the Columbia River Gorge, where I spent the night in a motel in Cascade Locks, Washington. In the morning I ran east on Highway 14 to Mary Hill Stonehedge, then over to Goldendale for lunch, then east to Bickleton and the Tri-Cities, and then back home to Walla Walla.  I enjoyed riding the Burgy. The scooter did everything I expected it to do. I’m hoping for many rides into the sunset on this scooter.

After being self-annoyed for 34+ years, I finally got my “walking papers.” I am shutting down my machine shop and plastic injection molding business. My best customer sent all the work I used to do for them to China and the shop I’ve rented since 1995 is up for sale, so I’m scooting on out of here.

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