Ode to the daily driver - Return of the Honda.

After much too long an absence, my trusty "Vigor" is back in daily driver action:

This bike has been well looked after by my dad while I was unable to use it, and is in better shape than when I left it!

For starters, there are new tires, the same as were fitted back in 2015, which gave good performance. An oil and filter change, new brake pads, all contribute to breathing new life into a workhorse of a machine, that has covered a truly impressive mileage over the years.

There is a lot to like about this motorcycle, a lot I have come to appreciate and, looking back, it has done remarkable things and proved to be very strong: the very first trip to Corsica, the very first Stealth Trip, the CMT3, and countless trips within the hellhole that is Rome and surrounding territory.

This may not be the prettiest or fastest or most sought after bike there is, but it is a reminder that even the most humble motorcycle is still infinitely better than the best car in the world.

Ode to the daily driver - Winter edition.

I haven't done one of these in a while, but I love daily drivers in general (whether they be a beat-up car, scooter or motorcycle), and I think they don't get the respect they deserve most of the time because we're so focused on more exotic and fancier machines. So, here we go.

The Yamaha has been pressed into service while the Honda enjoys some well-earned downtime at the Monolith (that's the codename for the new facilities).

Since it joined our fleet, I haven't done that many miles on this bike, and last time around I have to confess that I didn't really like it all that much; I felt like I got bored of it after a week. Instead, this time I'm beginning to appreciate its virtues; at first it's easy to think "this thing just won't move, it's so slow!" but if you can put that aside as you ween yourself off the brutal torque of something like a 1200S Sportster (just a random example), you realize how light and how small it is and those things are just as valuable as horsepower in the right context. It's just harder to understand, that's all.

This little bike lets you get around with zero stress and zero effort. Even in the worst traffic jam you will never get stuck, there's always a way out and it's just so easy!

Because we are plunged in perpetual darkness (at least until next spring) I have to rely on the Yamaha's lights, and this is another area where this bike shines; pun intended! There's nothing cheap here, the taillight is a classic "enduro" design but made out of very clear, durable plastic with a smooth finish, as opposed to the brittle stuff often found on some offroaders. The headlight is remarkably good, and unlike the Lucas stuff I'm used to on British bikes, there actually is a difference when you switch from high to low beam! The high beam is amazingly bright and makes night-time riding outside of town much safer.

Something else Yamaha have done on the Tricker, I think to emphasize that you're riding a small bike, is to fit slightly scaled down switch clusters on the handlebar; they could have easily picked some full-size controls from their parts bin, but instead what you see here is very tidy and very neat.
Like the gas cap, the speedometer and warning lights, the indicators, the gear lever, etc. it's all a little bit smaller than you'd expect. When it all comes together, you really see that this is a small motorcycle, and I have to think that was deliberate on their part. Clever!

When this bike first came to us it had been abandoned out in the open for a few years, which meant that it had started to rust and just get filthy; I think it got caught in a flood at some point. In addition to extensive servicing of the bike, dad did a great job stripping it down to just the frame and motor, pulling the entire wiring loom out so it could be cleaned: it was caked in mud! Routing it back into the frame was a real pain.
So, why was the bike abandoned and essentially left to rot in the first place? I think something very common happened here: some kind of accident. I think the bike was dropped or crashed, at very low speed, and perhaps the previous owner couldn't or wouldn't ride it again. I say this because the clutch lever is visibly bent (and uncomfortable to operate), as is the handlebar on the left hand side, and the left side orange gas tank panel was cracked. The latter was repaired and resprayed by an auto bodyshop and came out perfect, but the handlebar and lever need to be replaced.

I'll do the handlebar sometime in the future as it'll be an occasion to check out an exclusive new boutique garage as soon as it becomes available (can't disclose more at this time, sorry), I can live with the bent one for now; however, I did change both levers for a set of very flash looking ones from Hong Kong:

They're nicely CNC machined, and the fit was absolutely perfect. They make the bike nice to handle which may not be something you'd think about, but having well sorted ergonomics on your motorcycle can actually make you ride better, faster and safer.

I also scored a really neat luggage rack for this little bike, essential as there is no other way to really carry anything on it otherwise. At the cost of sounding obvious, everybody loves a nice rack:

This thing just promises adventure, don't you think? I'll see about when it makes sense to actually fit it to the bike, I'll probably need it sooner rather than later if I want to carry the rain gear, a lock and whatever else without having to use a backpack or a trendy tote bag on one shoulder.

In the meantime I can strap something to the the standard grabrail, but it ends up being a bit too close to the exhaust and isn't ideally secured:

Actually, speaking of adventure, I've started entertaining the idea of doing something similar to what I did back in August and linked to the yearly Campotosto Mystic Trip: perhaps if I have time next summer I could try a new itinerary to the mountain lake, and I could go on the Yamaha... Please, allow me the reverie, I need something to look forward to, to get through the winter. I hate winter.

Here's something else that was badly needed: a cover for the bike. If I left the bike out in the open all winter, it would be rotten through by the time spring comes again (which cannot be too soon).

I'm using the Yamaha to get around town: getting my meridians re-aligned at the Thai massage place, an aperitivo in EUR, going to get some takeout, Blade Runner 2049 , etc.

One last thing! The original gear shift rubber was probably damaged in the aforementioned suspected crash, so here's a new one:

Thanks to Gianluca for the assist, it's nice to be able to use friends' garages from time to time.

Improvise, Adapt, Overcome.

Alright, so the Sportster is gone, and that's too bad. For the time being my trusty Honda has been pressed into service once again. It started right up after a 6-month slumber in the shed. Amazing. Let no one ever belittle this true gem of a workhorse:

I had mentioned in a previous post that I've been getting some new parts for it, so maybe I'll get to it now and give it a bit of a makeover, nothing extravagant mind you.

As for the Sportster, who knows, maybe in the future it will materialise again as a new restoration project, and I'll make it into a proper one-off special, no qualms about doing away with indicators, superfluous frame tabs, etc. We'll see.

Goodbye, daily driver : (

Bad news folks, some bastard stole my Sportster.

Looked out the window to where I normally park it and it was just gone. I reported it to the cops, but I know I'll never see my bike again. It's probably in Naples or somewhere in eastern europe by now anyway.

Joke's on you though you a**hole, the bike is in pretty rough shape! The brakes are shot, so is the gearbox, suspension, etc.

I don't quite know what to do now, I feel a bit numb... I guess it's one less bike to take care of? not much of a consolation.

Ode to the daily driver - Reprise.

Once again I find myself looking at my Sportster and feeling rather ashamed at the state of it.
You've seen the rear tire looking a bit past its best, and now this:

First of all, I got a new rear tire and realised just how worn the old one had gotten:

As for the tail light, it's ok, it wasn't stolen, it fell off: the plastic mounting looks like it broke, and thinking back I was able to figure out where I lost it. A few days later I went back looking for it and found a trail of ruby red shards leading me to the mangled remains of the tail light. 

 Roads in Rome have gotten particularly disgraceful lately thanks to extensive "upgrades" to the gas mains throughout the city: who knew that lead pipes were bad for you?! After all, we've had them for a couple thousand years, why change now?!

Re-paving blacktop is an afterthought, and the result is bits falling off my bike. Oh well.

As it is, the old one was already broken and patched up anyway, so this is actually a good excuse to replace it. Let's see how long this one lasts.

Who knows, I might even get to clean the whole bike one day!

Getting on with it.

With the Sportster out of commission again (we don't know what's wrong yet, so far we only noticed a very weak spark, but the rest is still unknown) I took the Commando out a couple of times, though it's totally useless in town thanks to the "modified" head.
I quickly put it back in the garage and decided it was time to crack on with it.

Off comes the bodywork, it will be going back to Toni Raia for a clean-up, a couple of repairs and fresh decals here and there. Don't worry though, the colour will stay the same glorious, brash, "aurora galactica" purple you've come to know and love (or loathe, whatever).
So then looking around the garage, thinking about how to get back home I saw the BSA... it was as if it looked back and me and just said " 'sup? "
It took a little bit of persuasion to get it going (something to do with the carburetter, we'll get to that particular story someday) but eventually it did. While I was at it I also greased up the clutch and front brake cable ends as they were squeaking every time I pulled the levers and it was like nails on a chalkboard.
Apart from checking the tires and putting a spare fuse in my pocket, there was not much else to do, so I took off as conservatively as possible to try to keep the exhaust bark at bay. This thing is not exactly neighbourhood friendly so I try to attract as little attention as I can. It doesn't really work though, a dude on a grey BMW G/S almost crashed into the back of a van as he turned around to look at the BSA...
Loud pipes aside, it turns out that it is totally usable on a daily basis in town: you're narrower than anything else on the road, so lane-splitting is a breeze. The bike is very light, so parking and kerb-hopping aren't a problem. I've cleaned up the rims and a few other shiny bits so it looks presentable and doesn't jarr with its surroundings.
There is a short "to do" list for the BSA. First of all, I fished the new pair of front brake shoes out of a box and will get around to fitting those as soon as I get my Sportster back.

The front brake lever also needs some attention because it's not clamping down properly on the handlebar. Last but not least is the rear wheel sprocket, which hopefully won't require shortening the chain (in case I later decide to go back up to the larger sprocket).
I was musing all this on my way to Witold's, where I found him working on his Commando redux:

He's doing a lot and the details will be part of a separate post once he's finished and the bike is on the road again, burning rubber, tarmac and the landscape in general.

Our friend Marco (one of the Corsica marauders) came by on his lovely BSA Thunderbolt for a quick fork oil change. It turned out to be a little bit more time-consuming than you might have thought, and I have a sneaking suspicion that it's going to take more than just oil to get that suspension working properly...

What a lovely scene, don't you think?

Ode to the daily driver.

Like many other people, I have a daily driver. The one vehicle you use pretty much by default, all the time, while doing little more than filling the tank and giving little to no thought to maintenance, cleaning and general upkeep. This is not ideal, but it is a necessity of daily routine. It could be a car, a motorcycle or a scooter but I think you know what I mean. The thing is in working order, it's reliable and won't let you down, but you know you should really fix that door handle, or that warning light, or that creaking noise that you can't quite figure out where it's coming from. You should also wash the damn thing once in a while, but who has the time.
In my case, my daily driver is my beloved 1994 Harley-Davidson Sportster.

It's a "99% stock" workhorse that has given me well in excess of 60.000kms of doggedly dependable service. I have been on a few longish trips, two-up, luggage. I have used it all year 'round, come rain or shine. It is such a solid machine that maintenance is really an understated affair of yearly or twice-yearly servicing, itself a very simple procedure. That said, nothing lasts forever, as the Sportster reminded me some time before the Christmas holidays when it started to smoke alarmingly from the front cylinder, and generally acting up. Poor thing.
So, I handed it over to Roberto, an H-D trained mechanic who quickly went to work and discovered, among other things:

• totally pulverised, almost non-existent valve oil-seals;
• crusty valves;
• fairly worn-out piston rings;
• discoloration on one of the cylinder liners;
• the oil tank AND the battery carrier about to break loose from the motorcycle (!);
• a faulty oil pressure warning switch, which - given the recent BSA debacle - I think we can all agree is a bad omen;

Beyond that, he generally went over the bike and found all the small things I knew about but had never got 'round to fixing. Sometimes you need things to reach a certain point before you get them sorted out. It's great to have the Sportster back and in good shape, with things such as the speedometer lights working again, what a novelty! Things pile up... you only notice when they're all gone just what a difference it makes.

Now, I like to tinker with old bikes. I like to learn how to do "new" things and improve my skillset, and the Sportster is by far an easier machine to work on than, say, a 1950s Triumph. I have a Clymer workshop manual for the Sportster that's about as thick as three Encyclopedia Britannica tomes stacked together.
So why not fix this myself? I'm sure that given time I could learn how to do it... but that's exactly the point: it is one thing to play around with a bike that you realistically won't need right away. You can afford to take your time and keep it in the shed for a whole winter. But a daily driver needs to be ready, always. So it's better to rely on someone who really knows what they are doing and can get it done quicker than you can, so you can get maximum reliability out of something you use so often, it is practically an extension of your butt.