Motorcycles, Scooters, Guns, Adventures, Opinions, and More
We’ve previously posted info on CSC’s electric bicycles, and in the last few days a couple of super videos popped up on the new CSC products. One is from good buddy Kevin Duke, CSC’s Brand Manager, and the other is from Micah Toll, an expert on EVs of all kinds. Enjoy, my friends!
The FT750s are available in Gloss White or Matte Black. You can order one via CSC-ebike.com.
I wish I had a few words of wisdom for everyone concerning this COVID 19 thing, but I do not, other than to say we’ll get through this, don’t hoard, and wash your hands. That’s the extent of my advice, so let’s get on to lighter stuff, which I could sure use a good dose of these days. Good buddy Duane sent a link for an Enfield story to me a day or two ago from Bloomberg news. When I saw the source I thought perhaps Duane had gone over to the dark side (you know, Bloomberg and all), but I guess even egomaniacal billionaires like Mike (who obviously didn’t make it happen) find an acorn once in a while. This is a story on the new Enfield, and they did a pretty good job with it.
Then another Enfield story popped up in my Facebook feed with a very cool Enfield video. It’s light, I enjoyed it, and it pretty much sums up my feeling about motorcycles these days:
Enjoy, folks, and keep the faith.
About four years ago I went to the range with my good buddy TK. TK is a cool guy and he had a rifle I didn’t know much about. It was a new .44 Magnum Henry lever action rifle with a brass receiver and, in a word, it was stunning. The brass and the bluing were highly polished, the walnut stock was highly figured, and wow, was it ever accurate. I’d seen Henry rifles before but I had never handled or fired one, and when TK let me shoot his…well, let me put it this way: Wow! TK was impressed with my marksmanship and so was I. I put five .44 slugs through a hole you could cover with a quarter, and folks, with open sights, that’s good shooting. The rifle looked, felt, handled, and shot the way a rifle should.
Just a couple of weeks ago, good buddy Greg and I were on the range again and Greg had a new toy. He had recently purchased an older Harrington and Richardson break open rifle in .223, and it was nice. Harrington and Richardson stopped making their rifles some time ago, and I always thought having one in .45 70 would be the right thing to do. But I had never gotten around to scratching that itch. Maybe it was time to do something about that, I thought.
I like the concept of break open rifle, and I love the concept of a single shot. They are just cool. You have to make every shot count, and that’s appealing to me. A Ruger No. 1 or a Ruger No. 3 single shot rifle has always been my first choice. There’s something about a single shot rifle that floats my boat.
Seeing Greg’s H&R single shot .223 got me to thinking about Henry rifles again, probably because I’d seen something on the web about Henry having introduced a new single shot. I remembered the quality of TK’s Henry, and I love the break open configuration I was seeing on Greg’s H&R. It reminded me of my very first rifle…a .177 caliber pellet gun I’ve had since I was a kid wandering the woods in New Jersey. What I had in mind was a Henry single shot rifle with a brass frame chambered in .45 70 (one of the world’s all-time great cartridges). Throw in some fancy walnut, and it would be perfect. It would be just what the doctor ordered.
Hmmmm. Brass. Walnut. .45 70. The wheels were turning, and that prompted a visit to Henry’s website. What’s this? A contact form? Hmmmm again. Would it be possible to get a Henry Single Shot in .45 70, brass framed, with hand-selected walnut? Well, it seems the Henry folks had checked out our ExNotes gun page, and the answer was swift: Yep, they could help me on this.
So, to make a long story a little less long, I’ve been corresponding with Henry USA and I bought one of their brass frame single shot rifles. The good folks at Henry assured me it will have nice walnut. I’m talking to the Henry marketing director to learn a little more about the company tomorrow and I’ll be posting a blog about that in the near future. I’ll soon have a new Henry rifle in the ExNotes armory, and you can bet I’m going to have lots to say about it.
Stay tuned, folks. You’ll read all about it right here.
Check out our Tales of the Gun!
Here at Exhaustnotes.us we don’t have to wait until we know what we are talking about to give you our impressions of new gear sent to us for review. No, we can do whatever, whenever we want and right now I want to tell you about this swell jacket. You’ll get a longer-term review after Daytona Bike week.
BMG’s Mercury jacket is warm. The thing comes with a liner made of something like plutonium or krypton. The (only) day I tried the jacket temperatures ranged from 45 degrees to 70 degrees Fahrenheit. My base layer was a cotton T-shirt, no logo. At 45 degrees I was a bit cold but nothing unbearable. As the temps got into the high 60’s low 70’s the jacket became warm. It was fine as long as your speeds were above 40-50 miles per hour.
I could have taken several steps as the weather warmed up. I could have taken the liner out. I could have opened the vents (which I did later on) but I’m lazy and just put up with the heat.
The collar on the BMG Mercury jacket is designed well. I can lock it in solid and it doesn’t chafe on my helmet when I rotate my head to preen. Some jackets catch helmet parts and make cleaning tail feathers a less rider-friendly operation.
The sleeves have both a zipper and hook-and-loop fasteners strips to seal off your wrists. This is great for me because I ride without gloves when I am operating a camera or getting on and off the bike frequently. Using the two closing methods you can achieve an airtight wrap and stop the cold from entering your arm area.
Closing the jacket is also a multi-level affair; a zipper, hook-and-loop strips then snaps should pretty much keep the coat from opening up in a crash. The jacket has light shoulder/elbow armor that doesn’t intrude on comfort. Which is fine by me, I don’t like heavily armored motorcycle gear.
There are two front and two rear vents that are not huge but when open make the jacket noticeably cooler. After getting a bit hot on slower trails I ran them open until around 5pm when New Mexico’s February temps start dropping. I closed the vents and had a snug, evening ride home, arriving back at Tinfiny Ranch around 55 degrees, the perfect temperature for using the Mercury fully deployed.
The Mercury comes with a lot of adjustable straps to control the shape of the thing. I didn’t mess with them because it was fine with the liner installed. I imagine in hot weather I’ll have to take the liner out and then those extra snaps and straps will help prevent flutter.
The British Motorcycle Gear Mercury Jacket really works well for New Mexico’s daily 40-degree temperature swings. I think if I combined it with a t-shirt and my electric vest I would be good down to the mid-30 degree range. Available from BritishMotorcycleGear.com at a list price of $250 the jacket is not outrageously expensive and appears well made. I’m taking it with me to Daytona’s Bike Week where I hope to gather more information on the Mercury’s rain proofing and function without the liner.
I had the new Enfield 650 up on Glendora Ridge Road this week and I thought I’d share a few photos with you. Not a lot of words this time, folks, other than to say I’m still breaking in the bike and I’m taking it easy. And the bike is pretty enough that it doesn’t need a lot of explanation. I’ll offer a little, though, and with that in mind, here we go.
To me, the Enfield is the closest thing ever to the original Triumph Bonneville, more so even than the modern Triumph Bonneville (in my story on the Royal Enfield in Motorcycle Classics magazine, I said that Enfield out-Triumphed Triumph). And that’s a good thing, because to me a ’60s Triumph Bonneville is the yardstick by which I measure all motorcycles. Edward Turner and the folks in Coventry got it right, and late ’60s Triumphs were the ultimate in style, performance, and cool. I spent major portions of my youth dreaming about Triumph Bonnevilles (and maybe a little bit about Raquel Welch). The 650 Enfield has that old Triumph Bonneville look and feel, and that’s the highest compliment I can give a motorcycle. But’s it not old Triumph quirky. Think original Triumph mystique, but with Honda fit and finish, and you’ll pretty much have an idea of what this motorcycle is like.
That’s enough wordsmithing for now.
More photos, you say? Coming right up!
It was a glorious day up in the San Gabriels. Glendora Ridge Road is always a great ride.
The new Enfield photographs well, I think. There are several colors available in this new model. I like the metalflake gold. It’s the same color as the test bike I rode in Baja and it makes for great photography.
This next photo could be a magazine cover. There aren’t too many magazines out there any more. It’s nearly all online now, as Gresh and I know all too well. That’s a topic for another time. Back to my point: This next shot would make a hell of a magazine cover.
And finally, one more photo…my signature selfie. This one is yours truly in the Enfield’s starboard muffler.
Glendora Ridge Road is a great road and a great place for breaking in a new motorcycle. A road with 234 curves in 12 miles…just what the doctor ordered for keeping the revs down and the shifts up. Click on that link above and you’ll learn more about GRR, and please do follow the ExNotes blog to learn more about the Enfield. I’ll be posting a lot on this bike. And I’ll still be posting stories about my CSC TT 250 and RX3, too. The right tool for the right job. They’re all great machines.
I may head over to Douglas Motorcycles later today; they’re having an Enfield open house and if I go I’ll grab a few more photos to share with you. There are other Enfield colors (they’re all beautiful), and they need me and my Nikon. The 24-120 lens and I hear them calling.
Hey, there are other Enfield owners out there. Let’s hear from you! Please add your comments to the blog. Folks want to hear what you have to say!
The year was 1971 and I was 20 years old. Those were the good old days. Movies were wildly entertaining, it was real easy to tell the good guys from the bad guys, movie stars kept their political opinions to themselves, and being politically correct hadn’t been invented yet. And the movies were better for it. To me, there’s one movie in particular that stands out: Dirty Harry.
Dirty Harry was an exceptional movie for its time and it was an iconic role for Eastwood: Inspector Harry Callahan of the San Francisco Police Department. Eastwood went on to make several Dirty Harry movies. The Callahan role propelled Eastwood’s career enormously. But Callahan was only one of two stars in Dirty Harry. The other was Smith and Wesson’s Model 29 .44 Magnum revolver. Much as I like Clint Eastwood, I liked the Model 29 better, and yep, I bought a Model 29 after seeing Dirty Harry. I’ll get to that in a minute.
Susie and I were flipping through movies on Netflix a few nights ago and Dirty Harry was on the menu. “Put it on,” Sue said, with some resignation. “You know you want to watch it.” She was right. I did. Before I get into the Model 29 and all that, watch the video clip below. It’s a classic bit of tough guyism, and it’s a scene a lot of guys like me burned into our mental firmware.
So…back to the Model 29. Before Dirty Harry, Smith and Wesson didn’t quite know what to do with their Model 29. The police didn’t want it (the .44 Magnum is wildly overpowered as a police cartridge), nearly everyone who tried the cartridge back then took a pass, and the gun just kind of languished at the dealers. Oh, I know you read Elmer Keith and you’re a keyboard commando and all that, but let me tell you…in the ’50s (when the .44 Magnum was introduced) and on into the ’60s, nobody was buying them. The guns retailed in the mid-$150 range in those early years, but they just weren’t moving. Then Dirty Harry hit the big screen, and everything changed. Whaddaya know, everyone wanted a Model 29. I know. I was one of them. I was there.
You couldn’t find a Model 29 anywhere after Dirty Harry. It was product placement before anyone knew what product placement was, and all those N-frame Smiths gathering dust in dealer showcases vanished. In 1971 the MSRP for a new Model 29 was $183, but all that changed after Dirty Harry. They were going for $500 when you could find one on the used gun market, and that wasn’t very often. Everyone wanted to be Dirty Harry Callahan, including me. But I had an “in.” I had people. My father was an Olympic-class competitive trap shooter and he had contacts in the gun world. Dad put the word out and one of his buddies (a firearms wholesaler in south Jersey) had a brand new Model 29 (if I wanted it, he said) at the discounted price of $150. If I wanted it. Like I could say no. It’s good to know people, and I was in. Inspector Callahan, move over.
I shot the hell out of that Model 29 in New Jersey and then in Texas when I went in the Army, until it loosened up so much I didn’t want to shoot it any more. I put a notice up on a bulletin board at Fort Bliss and the next day an artillery captain bought it from me for, you guessed it, $500. I no longer owned a Model 29, but that was only a temporary situation. I reached out to my peeps back in New Jersey (it was my home of record and I was still a legal resident) and a week later I had another new Model 29. It’s the one I have today and the one you see in these photos.
So when Sue and I watched Dirty Harry the other night, I realized it had been more than a few years since I shot my Model 29. I checked the ammo locker and I had some .44 Magnum ammo I had reloaded back in 2012. I dug the Model 29 out of the safe that evening, and the next day I was on the range. You know what? I still do a pretty good Dirty Harry. Inspector Callahan has nothing on me.
So back to that opening Dirty Harry scene…you know, the “Do you feel lucky, punk?” bit. It is classic Hollywood tough guy babble, but I had no idea of its reach until we had a bunch of Chinese guys come over from Zongshen to ride across the United States (you can and should read about that in 5000 Miles at 8000 RPM). We had a couple of days to kill before starting our epic journey, and when we asked the Chinese what they wanted to do, their answer was immediate: We want to shoot a gun. You know. ‘Murica, and all that. Hey, I was only too happy to oblige and we were off to the gun club. After sending a lot of lead downrange with a Ruger Mini 14, our Chinese guests then wanted to visit a gun store (the full American experience, you know), so we rolled over to Bass Pro.
I was a little nervous because the Chinese like to take pictures (and guys like me don’t like anyone, especially foreigners, taking our pictures in gun stores). Our Chinese guests were cool when I told them to put their cameras away, but I need not have worried. The Bass Pro folks were intrigued by all of this when we walked in. They invited our Chinese guests to take all the photos they wanted, and then they allowed them to handle the guns. That was really cool. One of the Bass Pro sales dudes gave Hugo, the young Zongshen rep, a monstrous .500 Smith and Wesson revolver. The Chinese guys had their cameras on Hugo in a heartbeat as he handled that massive hand cannon. Hugo knew what to do. With a slight Chinese accent (but otherwise perfect English) he was transformed. Hugo became Dirty Harry:
I know what you guys are thinking. Did I fire six shots, or only five? Tell the truth, in all this excitement, I kind of lost track myself. What you need to ask yourself is: Do I feel lucky?
Well, do ya, punk?
Hugo was amazing and we all (me, the Chinese guys, and the Bass Pro staff) had a good laugh. Hugo was born on the other side of the world a good 30 years after Dirty Harry hit the big screen, but he knew that line perfectly. And he knew it was part of the whole Smith and Wesson schtick. I guess it’s no small wonder. It was both the opening and closing scenes of Dirty Harry. Take a look:
Me? I still have my Model 29, and I can still hit the target with it. I still feel lucky, too.
Check out our other Tales of the Gun stories here!
You may recall from Zed 19 I had to re-soak Zed’s gas tank as 10 days were not enough to dissolve the rust. I drained, dried and reloaded the tank with apple cider vinegar and let it sit for 4 more days. This is what it looked like originally:
The second session really knocked most of the rust out. After rinsing I dumped a large box of baking soda into the tank and added clean rainwater sloshing it as I filled to mix thoroughly. I don’t know the chemical reaction that takes place but the baking soda neutralizes the acid, turning the metal a dull grey, almost white color. This treated metal does not flash rust and I’ve been going 3-4 years on another tank I cleaned like this without rust reappearing. It’s like the metal turns passive and stops reacting to oxygen.
If I wasn’t so hell-bent on riding this bike I think I would flush and cider the tank one more time but it looks good enough and I’ve got to ride! I connected a small hose to my shop vac and played it all over inside the tank. I can hear nothing when I shake the tank so at least there are no big chunks loose inside.
Proving that even the simplest life forms can learn I bought an entire new petcock for $23 rather than the rebuild kit for $8. This is real growth on my part. Usually I buy the kit, mess with it for hours then put it on only to have it leak. Only then will I buy the new one. Kawasaki uses a turnbuckle-type left-hand/right-hand thread on the Z1 petcock. It took about 145 tries to get it to tighten up facing the correct direction.
The new petcock has screens inside the tank and a bowl filter but with 40% of Zed’s tank out of my view-field I can only assume the entire tank is as clean as the places I can see. Inline fuel filters, one for each set of two carbs will hopefully catch any debris still in Zed’s tank.
An update on the Z1 Enterprises regulator/rectifier: It works. The battery charges @ 14.8 volts which is still a tad high but much better than the 17 volts Kawasaki’s setup was doing.
From the top Zed looks pretty well sorted. I took it for a ride and it ran really well for off the bench carb settings. It might be a little rich at idle or it might just be our 6000-foot elevation. I’m not going to tinker with it for now. I’d rather get some miles on the bike.
I don’t know what this bracket is for. Located on the right side down tube near the tach drive, it’d too light for a steering damper mount. Anyway, there’s enough stuff on the bike as is so I’m not going to worry about it.
I took Zed to my secret proving grounds and she ran through all 5 gears smoothly. The bike hit 90 MPH without even trying. I’ll need a better front tire to do any high-speed work. The brakes work ok. When you ride a SMR 510 Husqvarna all other motorcycle brakes seem like crap. After 33 miles there are small oil leaks at the tach drive and countershaft area. Maybe the clutch pushrod seal or sprocket seal is the culprit. That stuff is easy to fix.
The patina on Zed is excessive, bordering on shabby. The bike sat outside for years and paint wise there’s nothing left to polish or wax. The finish is just not there. The pin striping is cracked and missing sections. I’m not sure what to do about that. On the one hand a ratty bike may be less attractive to thieves and old Z1’s are getting fairly expensive. On the other hand it does look pretty bad. I’ve seen my Enduro buddy Mr. French do some amazing work with rattle cans. Maybe I’ll give it a go. The paint can’t look any worse.
That’s it: from Dead to Zed in 20 easy sessions. Don’t worry, this won’t be the last you’ll hear of Zed. I’ll be doing some long trips on this bike, maybe Mexico, maybe ride to a few flat track races. I’ll update the blog if I do any more major work on the bike. The story of Zed’s resurrection may be ending but the story of Zed is just beginning.
And there you have it. If you’d like to run through the gears (i.e., the previous 19 installments of Zed’s Not Dead), you can do so here!
It’s time to clean out Zed’s rusty gas tank. Before I bought it Zed sat outdoors for a long, long time and heavy rust inside the tank had gotten out of control. Clean gasoline is critical when there are 4 carburetors to clog up. You know how I feel about tank liners and new Z1 tanks aren’t very expensive so I won’t be doing any heroics to save this one. If it doesn’t come clean I’ll go to plan B. I’m just looking for any excuse to buy one of Z1E’s beautiful painted body sets.
A few years back I read a story on using apple cider vinegar to dissolve rust. I used the stuff to clean Godzilla’s rusty tank and it worked great. Of course, Godzilla’s tank wasn’t nearly this bad. The cider vinegar is a very mild acid and works slowly so you don’t have to worry about eating a hole in your gas tank.
Available at Wal-Mart, cider and baking soda are the two ingredients used. I also pressure washed the inside of the tank to knock loose any flakey rust. After pressure washing I dried the tank with a heat gun and dumped in 4.25 gallons of apple cider vinegar.
With the tank jugged all you can do is wait. Zed’s tank was really bad so I left the cider in for 10 days. I dumped the rusty cider into a bucket and flushed the tank with water. The results were encouraging but the tank was still not shiny clean.
Normally this would be the time to pour in the box of baking soda and fill the tank with water to neutralize the acidic vinegar but Zed’s tank needs another dose of cider. Using the heat gun I dried the tank again then refilled it with a gallon of fresh vinegar and the rest with the murky cider I had dumped out of the tank. Vinegar is not cheap, you know.
While the tank was soaking I dismantled and de-rusted the gas cap. I wasn’t sure which way the new rubber gasket went on the flange. One side is 1/32” wider than the other and manufacturers do stuff like that for a reason. The old gasket was no help. It had crumbled. Figuring I had a 50-50 chance of getting it right I installed the gasket wide-side towards the gas tank.
Zed’s exhaust was held on by coat hanger wire when I got the bike. The headers seem well made but the muffler section looks a bit crude. Not terrible but nothing like from a factory. It has an internal reverse cone 12” from the end of the muffler body. There was no baffle anywhere.
The muffler end cap was secured by a stripped sheet metal screw. I drilled and tapped a piece of flat stock for a 6mm screw. This backing piece gives the screw more meat to bite into. Then I set the backing piece into place and welded it to the end cap. I can’t weld and trying to stick a thick piece to thin sheet metal is hardest of all.
Where the muffler was held on by a coat hanger I brazed a 3/8-16 nut to act as a blind nut. This wasn’t critical but it will make muffler installation much easier as there is not much space for a wrench. It also eliminates one more variable when you are fumbling around trying to line things up.
I made a baffle from perforated aluminum, rolling it over a 1-1/2” PVC pipe to form the tube. The baffle is long enough to protrude past the inner reverse cone for support and is wrapped in standard fiberglass insulation. The end of the baffle is folded in on itself and riveted. There are a lot of tiny holes in the baffle so I don’t think it will be too restrictive. I’m sure the Mansfield house insulation won’t last long but at least I tried.
After all that pipe work I splashed some BBQ black on the muffler and it doesn’t look bad. As long as you don’t get within 25 feet.
Zed was overcharging the battery to the tune of 17-volts so I bought a non-stock replacement unit from Z1E. The new unit eliminates the factory rectifier, having that function combined into the body of the regulator. Electrically, the unit is plug-n-play and the bolt holes from the old/new regulators line up but the wiring harness from the new unit was too short by about ¾”. There was no way to plug the regulator in and still have enough slack to reach the mounting holes under the battery box. I tried all sorts of finagling and considered rotating the regulator and using only one mounting bolt or drilling new holes closer to the harness socket. In the end I made a bracket to move the regulator. While I was at it I narrowed the bolt spacing between the slotted regulator mounting holes to make it easier to install.
All is mounted securely now and the unit plugs in just fine. It remains to be seen if it regulates. We will find that out in Zed 20.
Want more Zed? Just click here!
The pace has quickened here at Tinfiny Ranch. Lots of new parts from Z1 Enterprises arrived and lots of new ground was covered on Zed’s resurrection. We are going to ride like the wind soon. In Part 17 the ignition switch was giving me trouble but that’s been resolved with all new locks from Z1E. I had to dismantle the headlight area to replace the ignition and the under-seat area to install the new seat lock. The fork lock was easy. I should have gone with new parts in the first place. Ah well, if I didn’t do stupid things no one would understand me.
The luggage rack I bought from ebay fit Zed only in the broadest sense of the word. It was made to connect to the original grab bar on this tab but I don’t have the grab bar. That’s ok because it sat way too far back on the bike for me. Like 6 inches past the taillight. I lopped that tab off and shortened the rack where it mounts to the top shock bolt.
Without the tab or grab rail there was nothing to hold the rack from flopping down onto the rear fender. Using a New Mexico hammer-and-14mm deep socket-roll forming machine I knocked up two brackets that fit into the old grab rail mounting holes. I made a 1-inch spacer out of some solid steel round stock that had lain in Tinfiny’s driveway for several years.
The rack looks much better tucked in tight but cantilevered as it is, I’m not sure the tubing will be strong enough to hold much gear. I may redesign the rack with a long gusset running on the bottom of the tube that will incorporate the mounting tabs for a rearward set of blinker tabs. Moving the blinkers aft will allow me to use those toss-over, Pony Express style saddlebags.
Zed’s lower, right-side engine mount was missing and I’m getting tired of buying parts for this bike so I made a paper template and cut a chunk out of an old motorhome bumper that had also laid in Tinfiny’s driveway for years. I hate to disturb the junk buried around Tinfiny because it stabilizes the soil. You never know which part you pull out of the ground will cause a landslide. It’s like living atop a Jenga stack.
The mount is not as nice as a stock mount but it’s way on the bottom. No one will ever know.
I also bought a new seat! Replacement foam and a new seat cover added up to nearly the same as a whole new seat so I bit the bullet. It tasted like brass with a hint of lead. The seat came complete with brackets, rubber supports and seat latch. It was missing only the pivot pins that hold the seat on. Using my New Mexico hand-lathe, I spun down a ¼-20 stainless bolt to fit through the frame brackets. A hole for a cotter pin & washer keeps the seat pins from falling out.
Besides rebuilding the caliper and master cylinder in a previous Zed installment I replaced the rubber hoses and the missing hose support down by the fender. I also had to replace the solid pipe from the caliper to the lower brake hose.
Bleeding the brakes was fairly straightforward. So far nothing has leaked out of the rebuilt parts. The lever feels a bit mushy; I’ll let it sit a bit to let the air bubbles coalesce then try a little more bleeding.
I rigged the bike with a spare battery and tested all the electrical circuits. Amazingly, everything works. The alternator works a little too well putting out 17 volts to the battery! Not to worry, another $100 has a new Z1 Enterprises regulator/rectifier on the way. The new unit is not an exact replacement. The regulator/rectifier is all in one finned casting unlike the stock Kawasaki set up where the two functions are separate parts.
The last time I ran Zed way back in Zed’s Not Dead 10 it ran and idled great. Now the bike is popping and won’t run off choke. The poor quality of gas sold today turned dark red in a very short time so I have removed the float bowls and will blast the carbs with aerosol carb cleaner. Hopefully this will get the bike running normally as I don’t want to take those damn carbs apart again.
Read our earlier Zed’s Not Dead installments for the rest of the resurrection!
So you’ve probably noticed I haven’t been riding too much lately. You know how it goes…it gets cold, you have other things going on in your life, you want to send some lead downrange, and on and on it goes.
I needed to break that pattern, and there’s no better way to do that than to buy a motorcycle. Yeah, I know…I already have two motorcycles (what has to be the world’s most well-traveled RX3, and a pristine, low miles TT 250). I like CSC motorcycles. But you may recall that Uncle Joe Gresh and I road tested two Enfields last year and I fell in love with the 650 Interceptor.
I was primed to buy a Royal Enfield when I returned from Mexico, but the Enfield dealer in Glendale had done a God-awful job prepping the Bullet (I wouldn’t buy squat from those guys now), and the Enfield dealer in Brea was doing the normal bend-you-over-a-barrel, here-comes-the-setup-and-freight-charges routine. Folks, I’ve worked in the industry, and I know what setup and freight costs actually are. Trust me on this…they ain’t $1500. So I didn’t buy an Enfield.
Then an amazing thing happened. One of the few dealerships I trust picked up the Enfield line last week. It’s Art Guilfoil’s Douglas Motorcycles in San Bernardino. I asked Art what he could do for me on a new Enfield, I was shocked at how low the number was (don’t ask, because I won’t tell), and, well…
I’m picking up my new 650 Royal Enfield on Thursday, and to say I’m excited would be an understatement of immense proportions. It was a tough call for me between the Enfield and the new CSC RX4, but truth be told, I love my RX3 and it checks all the boxes for what I want in an adventure touring motorcycle. Arguably, the RX3 is the finest adventure touring motorcycle in the world if you’re going places other than the corner burger joint (for all the reasons I explained in my piece titled Why a 250?). I know. I’ve been to places other than the corner burger joint, and I’ve made most of those trips on an RX3.
So with my new Royal Enfield coming in, it begged the question: What should I do with my RX3 and TT 250? My first thought was that I’d sell them. Then I got to thinking about the RX3. I’ve done some miles on that thing, folks, and we’ve bonded. Nope, I’m going to hang on to it. Baja beckons, and all that. The RX3 is perfect for poking around the peninsula. And next, month, that’s where I’m headed. Susie’s going with me, and we’ll share a Tequila or two with Baja John. You can read about it here.
That leaves the TT 250. Hey, I was involved in bringing the TT 250 to America, and it all started when I eyeballed the 150cc version on display in Zongshen headquarters. It was a bit of an uphill struggle…you know, getting Zongshen to make a 250cc version, and then selling the idea in Azusa. I got the powers that be to go along and then I was out of town when the prototypes arrived in California. A couple of the CSC underlings didn’t like the bike, and I had to sell it in Azusa all over again. But it worked out, and the TT 250 is one of CSC’s best selling motorcycles ever. It should be…it is a hell of a bike for a stunningly low price.
With the Enfield coming in, I thought I would sell my TT 250. Hell, it’s pristine, but because I don’t ride it too much, the carb gummed up on me. I thought maybe I’d bring it to CSC and have them make it perfect again, and then another serendipitous thing occurred. A few days ago, a post popped up on Facebook (why do I spend so much time on that moronic site?) from Revzilla, and what do you know, it was about doing your own maintenance on a CSC motorcycle. In this case, it was the San Gabriel (a wonderful name for a motorcycle if ever there was one), and the guys from Revzilla said the CSC shop manuals were wonderful. I thought that was great for a lot of different reasons, including the fact that, along with help from Gerry Edwards and the guys in the shop, I wrote many of the CSC manuals. Then I realized…hey, I wrote the TT 250 manual. I can fix my own carburetor. I looked up the carb stuff and this afternoon I took mine apart, I cleaned the low and high speed jets, and now my TT 250 is running great. There’s something uniquely satisfying about fixing your own motorcycle, and the Revzilla boys were right: Those CSC manuals are amazing. So are the motorcycles. And so is the 650 Enfield. I know, because I took one on what had to be the longest demo ride ever…all the way to Baja and back!
