August 26, 2014
Motorcycle news has been full of electric motorcycle products for many months. Harley-Davidson was the latest to showcase an electric ride. Now personally, I’m all for improving technology, but when limited range is combined with hours and hours of recharging… Well, didn’t we visit this issue back in the 1910s! My short answer is Tesla will fail and electric bikes at best will be a novelty.
Chemistry evokes electrons small,
Horizons far; a tricky order tall-
Visionaries march towards carbon free!
Petroleum in tanks is all I see…
Combustion of a different sort – OK,
on distance none will waffle or be swayed.
The atoms in your battery get tired,
hours pass while charging fully wired…
Need a charge- those plugs are hard to find.
Armatures and staters on you mind;
Imitation noise a selling tool-
Valve adjustments? Never is the rule.
So saddle up! Then ride to windmill farm,
Visualize the energy, and harm.
Flaring and deep fracking is still best!
Internal fire rumbles on request….
July 9, 2014
Quantum physics is a very strange set of equations that predict the existence of sub-atomic particles and their corresponding force vectors. But that isn’t the way it started out. The physicists who began the work were actually Harley riders and they were searching for a single equation; using their odometer as a baseline- to predict when they should change their engine, primary and transmission lubricants. The resultant work yielded strange outcomes like ‘anti-chrome plated’ oil filters. The rest is motorcycle history…
Accelerate to speeds beyond the known-
As time dilates to squeeze a bottom clone.
Anti-spin collisions, get a quark,
Transmission oil is looking awful dark…
Ride through a vector field with charm-
Another round odometer won’t harm.
The engine oil must drain at winter’s face;
Electrons twice, two places once embrace.
Equations theory filters with a nut,
Much easier to twist; then fully shut-
But will the Higgs trace out a blatant path-
Scraped knuckles are the only epitaph.
Synthetic color mystifies the mind,
Inspection plate removal at the chime.
Femto seconds age at pico-scale,
Cruise boldly through old Sol’s neutrino gale!
July 9, 2014
Title Stolen from Mary Chapin Carpenter’s song…
If you have a riding problem- you do it at Quittin Time
Nail deep to hold the structure’s frame,
Another roof conceals enchantment’s flame-
Minutes drag till day completes its fun;
Release the torque for v-twin rumble run.
Cubicles encase the business ebb and flow;
Endless tapping keys unlocked, transpose-
Knowledge printed read, then glibly tossed,
Handlebars will pull you from partition’s dross.
Baking sun or icy gale, a prairie players prayer;
Target depth from toil and greasy derrik’s tare.
One last pipe to trip on schedule firm yet true;
Then saddle up your triple pistoned ego coup-
Mundane to serve a burger on a garnished bun,
Patrons harried raw by deadlines they do shun.
French fries bubble deep within the slime-
RPMs and thrust to claim; at Quittin Time.
June 27, 2014
Motorcycles are exactly like money; they are inherently neither good or bad, can be used for value based exchanges, often their value is related to the latest crude oil quote and are occasionally moved in the middle of the night by nefarious characters. They have been known to take people to places they should avoid – like ice cream parlors.
Sugar cravings creeping round?
Can’t quite lose that stubborn pound?
Blame may lie at V-twin’s wheels-
Tuesday has those 2- for deals!
As you round your favorite curve
Speed demands your steeled nerve-
Then your will to jelly turns,
Spying house of deep fried burns!
Gasoline flows in your tank,
Card it siphons from your bank.
Salty snacks on shelves abound…
Belt to loosen stomach round.
Chocolate becons; creamy song-
Scale bemoans you’re in the wrong!
Motorcycle doesn’t care…
Adjust the shocks once more- with care.
May 20, 2014
Do you ever wonder how motorcyclists make decisions while they are riding? You’re in good company, because no one else does either… But in today’s philosophy of waisting time on pointless research, I thought it would be important to peal back the onion on a motorcyclist’s brain in action. A new low- I know already…
RADAR on the internet;
Forecast shows no front to fret-
Ride on roads not fully planned,
Text the friends with just one hand.
Dress the part and TCLOCS first,
Ready for the power burst-
Rendezvous agreed for start;
Caffeine races head and heart.
Search the road twelve seconds out,
Swerve and miss that tree branch stout!
Snap check fuel while scan on goes;
Spacing good, as traffic slows.
Adjust a mirror to better view,
Closing threats as throttle queues-
Roadway scan shows clear ahead,
Outside curve, then lean to thread.
Brain beyond the handlebars-
Sunshine bright or under stars,
Fleeting glance to left or right-
Creator’s goodness and His might.
April 28, 2014
True motorcycle affectionados know that chrome is a bold accent to your ride with subtle yet perceptible tones. Chrome is not a clashing cymbal, but a brass ensemble of reflection and form costing thousands of both dollars and hours.
Does Tiffany’s define a cut of brighter hue,
Or swords of steel slice rain as thin or true?
My ventilator breathes in air with lungs of chrome;
Pedestrians glimpse flashes as I roam.
Cylinders are topped with flashy steel,
Exhaust pipes burn of blues and sprinkled teal.
Highway bars protect by blended white;
Yellow clouds dance on my chrome headlight.
Forks forged firm suspend with mirrored shine,
A frame of black and orange through prism fine-
Brake lights beam reflected back each time
Chrome spectrums tell the Maker’s story line.
April 6, 2014
If you ride motorcycles in urban or suburban settings, you’ll quickly note that multi-taskers live in left turn lanes. They are doing everything but paying attention to the signals…
Light change, green arrow;
In this designated lane.
Eyes up to left oblique
Throttle rolls, demands the strain-
Torque pulls the wheels forth
Press handlebars for lean.
Velocity past ten and then-
The v-twin gets hard mean.
Together clutch and toe refine
A better gear select-
Angles rate and past quite clean
Look through to lane elect.
And back to roll more gas to give
The fuel injectors hot.
Ventilator gasps the passing breeze
Blow by the sluggish lot.
Clean air proceeds, to cut a path;
And slipstream straight ahead,
Tires bite black asphalt sheen,
Keep rpm-s from scale of red.
March 28, 2014
Locke Ness Monster, Bessie, Kipsy and Champ may be mythical water monsters, but they don’t affect motorcycling in the traditional sense. However, there is a monster threat to riders in southern Texas- The Carrot Street Possum. I’ve seen it myself; and it’s something I wish I could ‘un-remember’!
Shortcut avenue, minus signal light-
Saves anguish from the traffic blight.
But monsters lurk; quickly blossom,
Giant, fierce; the Carrot Street Possum!
Cool spring day on side street cruise,
Attention span you hold- don’t lose.
In third gear now and breeze is fine.
V-twin revs, keep right of line.
But suddenly from ditches dim-
Lumbers toothy little rhino grim.
Eyesight poor, caution blind-
Scamper on but pass behind.
Into abyss on other side-
Racing heart is hard to hide.
I slow to catch my breath, then ride.
Doubters cast aspersions; lied,
On Carrot Street the legend possum eyed.
March 21, 2014
Making a ‘stage one’ upgrade to your motorcycles v-twin engine usually involves three things; bigger air intake, more open (more noisy) exhaust system, and a reprogramming of your electronic fuel computer. Some guys skip the reprogramming step, but it’s important for engine health. Stage one is not cheap but usually sounds better….
Factory grumble slightly weak
Scheduled fuel just needs a tweak-
Add a bigger air intake,
Decrement in mileage make.
Laptop placed downloaded plan
Update now on faster LAN,
Electrons pulse injectors right,
Torque improvement nice but slight.
Exit pipes with tips of black,
Careful placement in the rack.
Open breather takes more air,
Crafted mount installed with care.
Piston pressure; gauge some slack-
Idles deeply, throttles smack!
Injectors pumping robust grade-
Stage one upgrade now is made.
February 28, 2014
Have you read any earlier posts? No?! Well, you may be better off…
Motorcycles were made to ride. Unfortunately, you almost need to spend as much time cleaning your ride as riding. Of course, I don’t-
Guilt of Grime
Lower frame encased with grit,
Purchase yellow washing mit-
No time to wash, it’s leave I must,
Fairing visor caked in dust.
Tank is waxed but dingy green;
Pollen covers factory sheen.
Conscience calls to wash the wheels-
Underneath to clean the keel.
Bags have lost their luster bright-
Grime obscures hues that delight.
Chrome don’t shine that foundry built;
Wash today- just too much guilt.