Passes & Canyons Blog

As I had pretty much expected it would, my old 1980 Honda CB750 Custom has made it to Steele’s Cycle.

I was at Steele’s awhile ago following Tyler as he broke a Ninja down into parts and we were out in the yard at one point. Walking along a row of bikes I saw a bit of blue, a shade of blue that I’m extremely familiar with, and I looked closer. It was my Honda.

The funny thing was that I did not immediately recognize it as being my bike; I only thought it was another bike of the same vintage. I pointed it out to Tyler and he asked if this was in fact my bike and I told him no, it was just another like the one I had.

It wasn’t until that evening over dinner when I was telling Judy about it that it dawned on me that no, of course it was my bike. I had noticed that, hmmm, this CB750 has the same kind of sissybar my bike had. But somehow that had not jarred me awareness. But telling her I realized it was my bike. And I went back to look at it the next time I was at Steele’s and it was so obvious I can hardly believe I didn’t realize that the first time.

There was the same case guard, the same highway pegs, the same side panel on one side from a different year’s model. Of course this was my bike. But when I first saw it it did not have so much that I had come to associate with the bike, stuff I had stripped off the bike at the tow yard when I went to look at it after the crash. Without all that stuff it just didn’t seem like mine.

I pointed it out to Rick Steele and he said that considering I got hit head-on the bike didn’t suffer as much damage as it might have. But when I mentioned the cost of bailing it out of the tow lot he got it instantly–way more to bail it out than it would be worth. He said he gets a lot of bikes from that particular tow lot.

As I said, I was not at all surprised. I expected it would end up there and in fact it has probably been sitting there ever since last summer. Now two of my old bikes are at Steele’s. They’ve had my old Concours for a couple years now and at least it’s sitting inside and may eventually be fixed up and sold. It looks like the Honda is just destined for parts.

If anybody needs some parts for a 1980 Honda CB750 Custom I know where you can find them.

Biker Quote for Today

New Year, New Dreams, New Roads

I’ve spent a good bit of time now talking with Rick Steele, not just about the history of his business, Steele’s Cycles, but rambling across the history and memories of the motorcycle community in Denver. Several things Rick has mentioned brought back memories to me that had been long buried.

We talked about the D.U.M.P., Denver Used Motorcycle Parts, which used to be just east of downtown. That was the shop I went to when I first started riding. My first leather jacket came from there as did my riding gloves, the visor for my first helmet, and the windshield for my 1980 Honda CB750 Custom. Other stuff, too. It was always fun to watch people’s faces when I would say, “Oh yeah, I got this at the DUMP.”

We talked about the fire that devastated the old Fay Myers location on West Alameda. Steele’s bought all those burned bikes and then had two days to get them out. Rick said it was the city’s parking requirements that made it impossible for them to rebuild on that site and so Fay Myers moved to its current location on East Arapahoe. I had forgotten all about that fire.

The real memory jolt, though, was when Rick mentioned the $35 Harleys. Oh yeah, I remember that!

There was a point, years ago, when the government was looking to clear out a lot of old World War II gear. Amongst all this was a large number of Harley-Davidson motorcycles that had been purchased for the war effort but were never needed. They sat in crates, disassembled, brand new. The decision was made to unload them. The price they put on these bikes was $35.

I heard about these bikes back in the day. At that point in my life I had never owned a motorcycle but I had wanted one for years. A $35 Harley was truly a temptation.

I was totally unprepared to do anything with one if I bought it though. I had nowhere to haul it to to take it out of the crate and assemble it. I had no experience at all in the kind of effort it would require to assemble it. And I had never ridden a bike bigger than a 250; I had serious doubts about my ability to handle something a lot bigger. Oh, but the temptation!

Needless to say, I did not take advantage of the opportunity. Then over the years the memory faded and I forgot all about it. And then Rick brought it up. Oh yeah, I remember that! I do remember that!

Biker Quote for Today

This bike will pay for itself with the great gas mileage!

My one bike these days is my 2006 Suzuki V-Strom 650. With less than 51,000 miles on it currently it has a long life still ahead of it. Particularly considering that the engine is considered bulletproof, as in it will just keep on going and going and going.

But. And that’s a big “but.”

Just last week I ran across an item on Adventure Riders titled “Thinking Long Term,” about this “but” and something we seldom think about.

Zac, the writer, focuses not on the big parts, like the engine or frame, but on the little bits. Things like sensors. We all know how quickly electronic parts become outdated. What do you do if your bike depends on some bit of electronics and that unit dies, and then you can’t find a replacement?

This is not a theoretical exercise. When my 1980 Honda CB750 Custom got smashed I was faced with a decision. Do I bail it out of tow-yard jail and try to get it fixed, or do I just let it go? I chose to let it go because I had a pretty good idea that even if it was fixable–not at all a certainty–the repair would also add considerably to the overall expense and then, could I even get the parts?

Then it became even less theoretical recently when I was talking with Rick Steele over at Steele’s Cycles. We were talking about the factors that come into play when they are deciding what to do with a bike they have taken in. He used my 1999 Kawasaki Concours as an example.

As they do with all bikes they take in, they put it up on the lift and checked it out thoroughly. It ran–I knew that–but they discovered that the water pump was leaking. I did not know about that. And the thing was, Rick told me, you can’t get that water pump any more. They know a guy out east who repairs water pumps and they sent it to him but when they got it back it still leaked. So now, my old Connie is sitting in one of Steele’s storage areas with its fate unclear. The engine is as bulletproof as ever but not the water pump.

I guess this is an issue that aficionados of old bikes have lived with for a long time. Sometimes you can kludge in a different part and make it work. Sometimes you can fabricate a new part if you have the tools and the skill. Sometimes you can’t.

In my mind it makes the point in favor of newer bikes. I’ve lived for years with the reality that all my bikes were old enough that no dealer wanted to deal with them. Fortunately there are independent shops that pick up that trade. But at this point I’d just rather have the convenience of taking the bike to the dealer for service, knowing the parts are available. Plus, some of the new tech is nice. I’ve never had cruise control and that is something I’d like.

All of this is on my mind as I wonder about getting a new bike. And at this point that question is totally undecided.

Biker Quote for Today

Bikes may rust, but the memories they create never fade.

I’ve told at length of the crash I had on June 29 and its aftermath, including that my 1980 Honda CB750 Custom was totaled in the crash. I’ve showed a couple photos of the bike in the yard where it was hauled and some folks have questioned my statement that it had been totaled. It doesn’t really look all that bad. So I figured I’d discuss that.

When I was much younger I took the word “totaled” to mean that a vehicle was beyond repair. Later I came to understand that it really means that while it could be repaired, the expense to do so is more than the vehicle is worth. In short, the latter is why I deemed it totaled.

Before I went to the yard to look at it I spoke with my mechanic and he said I should shoot some pictures and send them to him, and he would be able to tell by looking at it whether it could be repaired. I did so but never heard from him, so I was on my on in making the decision.

First off, salvage yards like that are running a huge racket. By the time I was able to go see it it had been there three days and the charge was $135 per day for storage. There was no way I could get it out of there that day so just to get my own bike back in my possession would have cost me four days storage, $540. Keep in mind I paid $800 for this bike 37 years ago.

Then what about repair? I have no good idea what that would cost but I’m sure the fork would need to be replaced because it was definitely bent badly. I had case guards on the lower portion so the engine was probably fine. And while the right side exhaust pipes were fine, the bike obviously went down on its left side and that pipe was mangled.

Now, I know that my mechanic had an identical bike sitting in his shop for a long time because the owner needed pipes and was finding it absolutely impossible to find any. So I’m looking at paying $540 to get it out of jail, an unknown cost for repair, and a certainty that I’d never find pipes. Add to that the fact that the bike leaks oil and then burns it like a smoke machine sometimes, and my inquiries into fixing that ran into estimates of $3,000 or more. My estimate, based on some searching, was that before the crash I could maybe have sold the bike for $3,000. I didn’t have the work done and boy am I glad I didn’t.

So I declared the bike “totaled.” And I walked away.

Here’s the funny thing. I loved that bike. It was the first bike I ever owned and after 37 years I was still riding it regularly. I thought I’d never part with it. But when the time came it didn’t affect me emotionally at all. It was kind of a relief because that meant I no longer needed to deal with the hassles that came with it.

I had had that very same sort of experience twice before. The first was when Judy and I decided to get married and we bought a house together. I had lived at my old place for 17 years and loved that place. I thought it would tear me up to leave it. But it didn’t. The new house is much nicer and has none of the hassles that old place had. Like pipes freezing every time it got really cold in winter. I’ve never missed it at all.

And then there was the time last year when I parted with my 1999 Kawasaki Concours. I had had that bike for 25 years and loved it. But lately it had been causing me trouble and when I sold it I felt relief.

Apparently it’s OK to love something and to part with it. A very interesting life lesson. I guess it’s called life.

Biker Quote for Today

Life may knock you down, but a bike will always lift you up.

Who knew it takes months before the police report of a crash is available to be seen? Following the incident on June 29 when I was hit head-on by a drunk driver while on my old Honda CB750 I quickly filed to receive notice when the report became available. I received that notification today, four months later.

My primary interest in seeing the report was because I have almost no recollection of the event and I wanted some detail. Now, after all this time, I really only got two details that I didn’t already have. I was unsure as to where the guy was coming from. Was he heading east on Belleview and just drifted over into the oncoming lane (where I was) or had he just gotten off Santa Fe and was turning east onto Belleview and turned a bit too sharply? It turns out he was heading east on Belleview. Also, the police estimate he was going 35 mph.

The DA had told me he moved into my lane because he thought, in his drunkenness, that it was a lane open to him. To hit me he had to first take out a sign telling him to stay to the right and then his right wheels had to bounce over a concrete median that rises about 18 inches above the road. That impediment was probably responsible for slowing him down enough that his impact with me was considerably lessened from what it might have been if he had struck me unimpeded. Thank you very much median.

What I had hoped the report would tell me, but didn’t, was what happened to me. Did I go flying off the bike? How far? How did I hit the ground? What was my state immediately after? Was I unconscious? Was I alert? Did I immediately sit up and try to get up?

None of that information is included in the report. Dang. I wonder if the ambulance crew filed a report that might have that sort of information. I do know there was a witness who told the police what he or she saw. That’s the person I’d really like to talk to. And if there had been a trial I’m sure that witness would have been called. But there was no trial, just a plea bargain.

I’ll probably never get answers. Oh well. At this point I’m just focused on the future. One week from today it will be 12 weeks since surgery and presumably I’ll get my life back and be able to drive and to ride my one remaining motorcycle. That meeting with the neurosurgeon will be in the morning and unless the weather is terrible I’m going to be out riding that afternoon. Yahoo!

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if you think fringe is a mandatory accessory on your leathers.

There’s a thread on Adventure Rider that I have mined for interesting remarks once or twice. It asks, “When was the last time you ran out of gas? Tell your story.” Here are some more. I do particularly like the attitude in the first one.

• Mid 2000’s, on way from Atlanta to Baton Rouge, R1200ADV fuel gauge issue … A good way to meet nice folks
• 1984 Yamaha Maxim 750 – Heading home on West 494 in the Twin Cities. Ran out of gas and managed to get off onto an exit ramp and coast to the top. Push my bike across the street to a gas station. I had no money in my wallet or pockets but found a quarter in my tank bag. Do I squeeze a quarters worth of gas in my tank? Or do I use the quarter to call my roommate to bring me some gas. So I’m standing in line with helmet on and I tell the cashier pump 4, he looks a me and goes, A quarter? I hand him a quarter and ride the 4 miles to home. My roommate wasn’t at the house.
• As a 19 year old I was riding an interstate here in Australia on a Kawasaki Z900 with a pillion, who actually owned the bike but was too young to ride with a pillion, so I got the job. We knew fuel was low, but no options other than to keep going to reduce the distance we would have to push it. Bike started to cough and surge a short distance out of town, but we were going fast enough that I got it into neutral and coasted the last mile into the petrol station in silence and bone dry!
• Last week on the way to work. Forgot to flip the display to the trip meter on the Z900 RS when I started it. Had push it 2.1 miles to the next station in the dark. The 1,000 cars and half dozen motorcycles who passed me honking their horns were extremely helpful…

I’m going to pipe up right here. I came across a post that is much too long to paste in here so I’ll summarize and add my own comment in response. What the guy was saying is that if you don’t run low enough to go to Reserve you really ought to deliberately do so now and then just to make sure the fuel line used by Reserve does not get plugged. I had exactly that happen a few years ago. I was on my now departed Honda CB750 and I knew I was getting close to Reserve but we were heading to a gas station to meet up with others and I figured I’d fill the tank there. Well, part way there my bike started stuttering and I flipped the petcock. And the bike died.

Fortunately Roy had a can of gas and I put that in and all was fine. When we reached the gas station I filled up and it only took 3 gallons for this 5.5 gallon tank, confirming that I was not dry. That bike soon paid a visit to the shop to clear that fuel line.

Now back to the stories.

• I haven’t run out of gas in a long time but I have run out of money to buy gas. It now takes more than a ten dollar bill to fill the 2014 Honda Forza 300 maxi-scooter. The horrors.
• Years ago I rode my 99 SV650 to the Red Cross to donate blood. After the donation, they ask you to rest, have a snack, a drink, and warn you not to exert yourself for the rest of the day. On the way home the low fuel light was on, I passed a few stations as I was trying to make it to my favorite non-ethanol station. I ran out of gas and had to push it about 1/2 mile to the station, at least I didn’t have to put ethanol fuel in it.
• My now wife was taking her 2nd ride ever (at 48) on my old Shovelhead. We ran out of gas at dusk. I offered the option of walking about a mile and a half or staying with the bike. She walked. After a few minutes enough fuel drained over to the petcock side that I could make it to the station as she walked up. To this day I’m not totally sure she believes we actually ran out. She got her license and rides her own bike now…

OK. So there’s your reminder. As Dennis likes to say, the only time you have too much gas is when you’re on fire. Stop and fill that tank.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if the only reason you have a scooter is because your brother is C&W singer Doug Stone and he gave you his old hog.