| January 1, 2008 |
Miscellaneous parts from my 2002 KTM 300MXC, before its sale to Oak
Park, Illinois buddy Steve Pierson. Yeah, I cleaned them in the kitchen sink.
And the bath tub. Because I can.
Park, Illinois buddy Steve Pierson. Yeah, I cleaned them in the kitchen sink.
And the bath tub. Because I can.
| January 4, 2008 |
The good news: the Fighting Illini earned a trip to the Rose Bowl for the first
time since 1984. The bad news: like in '84, we got smoked by a Pac-10
team playing what amounted, more or less, to a home game for them. But
I was there, it was a blast, and I'd go again in an instant. The Orange &
Blue took over an entire golf course before the game, in what was the
largest tailgate party I've ever seen. You can't beat Pasadena on New Years.
time since 1984. The bad news: like in '84, we got smoked by a Pac-10
team playing what amounted, more or less, to a home game for them. But
I was there, it was a blast, and I'd go again in an instant. The Orange &
Blue took over an entire golf course before the game, in what was the
largest tailgate party I've ever seen. You can't beat Pasadena on New Years.
| January 15, 2008 |
This was one of the best Christmas gifts ever (thanks, Mom & Dad). I'm
only about halfway through it all, but so far it couldn't be more enjoyable
(that's what she said).
only about halfway through it all, but so far it couldn't be more enjoyable
(that's what she said).
| February 3, 2008 |
| If you've ever visited Chicago in January, you may have noticed a bit of a chill in the air. It's cold here in the winter. I would say too cool to ride, but every time I see single digits on Big Bird's thermometer, I pass a guy or gal cruising down the street on a bicycle. Craziness defined. Hibernation is okay for web surfing and other stuff, which in past years has led to this and that, but the legs take some time to wake up in the Spring. This year I decided it was time for a change. Before you ask why I didn't simply sign up for spin class instead of ordering up a CycleOps Fluid 2 trainer, I'll digress with some casual observations (read: rants) about health clubs, because apparently they are the only place to spin in Chicago. The idea of signing a membership contract, which in its simplest form is the club's way of guilting you into spending a warm, sunny day indoors when you'd rather be hammering trails at Palos, but you go to the club instead because there's money being sucked out of your checking account (gotta love electronic funds transfer) for months or even years at a time, and you desperately want to avoid being one of "those people" who join in January and can then count on one hand how many times they worked out between March and December...well, let's just say I am somewhat opposed to the concept. That is why I do not spin. Which leads us back to the CycleOps trainer. Sting is attached to the trainer and I pedal against its fluid resistance until the downstairs neighbors get annoyed enough to ask me to stop. Sleepy hibernating legs no more.... |
| February 10, 2008 |
Grease...it's the word when it comes to one of my winter rituals: cleaning
and lubricating the rear suspension components of my motorcycles. Over
the course of a riding season, they get dirty. Real dirty. On the left we have
the swingarms of my Kawasaki KX250 and my Gas Gas 300EC. In the center
are the springs and the shocks, freshly serviced by W.E.R. Racing. On the
right are the linkages that connect the shocks to the swingarms and also
perform some tricks of physics involving leverage ratios and other stuff only
a true gearhead can appreciate. To put this photo into a perspective almost
anyone can comprehend, these are approximately $2,000 worth of parts on
my kitchen counter.
Servicing of the complex internals of the shocks are left to Drew Smith's
expertise at W.E.R. Racing, but the remaining components are carefully
bathed in generous helpings of WD-40, lovingly pampered with Bounty Extra
Soft quilted paper towels, gently lubricated with super-slippery water
resistant grease and then reassembled, after which a full racing season will
subject them to more abuse than a first-year investment banking analyst.
It's a labor of love, and one that can be quantified in this way: for every
hour I race, I spend the same amount of time (or more) cleaning and
maintaining the bikes. There's no better place to do this in February than
within arms reach of a Corona-stocked refrigerator.
and lubricating the rear suspension components of my motorcycles. Over
the course of a riding season, they get dirty. Real dirty. On the left we have
the swingarms of my Kawasaki KX250 and my Gas Gas 300EC. In the center
are the springs and the shocks, freshly serviced by W.E.R. Racing. On the
right are the linkages that connect the shocks to the swingarms and also
perform some tricks of physics involving leverage ratios and other stuff only
a true gearhead can appreciate. To put this photo into a perspective almost
anyone can comprehend, these are approximately $2,000 worth of parts on
my kitchen counter.
Servicing of the complex internals of the shocks are left to Drew Smith's
expertise at W.E.R. Racing, but the remaining components are carefully
bathed in generous helpings of WD-40, lovingly pampered with Bounty Extra
Soft quilted paper towels, gently lubricated with super-slippery water
resistant grease and then reassembled, after which a full racing season will
subject them to more abuse than a first-year investment banking analyst.
It's a labor of love, and one that can be quantified in this way: for every
hour I race, I spend the same amount of time (or more) cleaning and
maintaining the bikes. There's no better place to do this in February than
within arms reach of a Corona-stocked refrigerator.
| February 16, 2008 |
Let's say you're a thirty-something single guy and tired of receiving the
same old junk mail. Credit card solicitations, DVD clubs, Adam & Eve...stuff
shows up in the mailbox every week, boring and repetitive (except the porn,
that never goes out of style). You're probably thinking, "But I have no
control over my junk mail." Well, you're wrong. All it takes is this:
Change your demographic!
That's right, let the mass marketers know you're no longer a single male in
his mid-thirties. Today, you're a 70-year-old married man with adult
children and some grandkids. How can this apparent impossibility be
accomplished? Simple. Walk into any branch of Harris Bank, open a savings
account, and set up your dad as the account beneficiary (i.e. the person
who gets your money if you die). The rest takes care of itself*. Within a few
weeks, your mailbox will open you up to a whole new world of supplemental
Medicare insurance, AARP membership, discount prescription drugs, and my
personal favorite, The SCOOTER Store! Just look how happy people are while
regaining their mobility on hella badass scooters. My mind has truly been
opened - to what, I'm not sure. But I do like them scooters....
*You may ask, "John, aren't there laws prohibiting my financial institution from
sharing (a/k/a selling) my private customer data to parties outside of the Harris
family of companies?" That is true. But come on, Harris Bank preventing you from
enjoying direct marketing? That, my friend, would be a real crime.
same old junk mail. Credit card solicitations, DVD clubs, Adam & Eve...stuff
shows up in the mailbox every week, boring and repetitive (except the porn,
that never goes out of style). You're probably thinking, "But I have no
control over my junk mail." Well, you're wrong. All it takes is this:
Change your demographic!
That's right, let the mass marketers know you're no longer a single male in
his mid-thirties. Today, you're a 70-year-old married man with adult
children and some grandkids. How can this apparent impossibility be
accomplished? Simple. Walk into any branch of Harris Bank, open a savings
account, and set up your dad as the account beneficiary (i.e. the person
who gets your money if you die). The rest takes care of itself*. Within a few
weeks, your mailbox will open you up to a whole new world of supplemental
Medicare insurance, AARP membership, discount prescription drugs, and my
personal favorite, The SCOOTER Store! Just look how happy people are while
regaining their mobility on hella badass scooters. My mind has truly been
opened - to what, I'm not sure. But I do like them scooters....
*You may ask, "John, aren't there laws prohibiting my financial institution from
sharing (a/k/a selling) my private customer data to parties outside of the Harris
family of companies?" That is true. But come on, Harris Bank preventing you from
enjoying direct marketing? That, my friend, would be a real crime.
- Right fork from my 2004 Kawasaki KX250
- Damping rod
- Damping rod holder tool
- Bastard file connected to DeWalt cordless drill
- China's best version of a 20mm wrench from Harbor Freight for
holding the end of #3 above - Second 20mm wrench from Harbor Freight set, which included two
20mm wrenches but no 19mm wrench (click here to see how you
turn a 20mm wrench into a 19mm wrench) - 19mm wrench
- Bottom end of compression valve stack
- Torque wrench
- 14mm Allen socket for removing/installing #8 above
- Medium strength thread lock for #8 above
- Best use for a picture of Britney Spears (my apologies to Jack
Johnson and Ivan Tedesco)
This, my friends, is how you service a set of forks in the comfort of your
own kitchen. For those who know me well and have keen observation
skills, a few questions might arise from this photo:
- Why did the King of Cheap purchase a $35 factory tool? (see #3
above) Answer: I got lazy. I could have made a trip down to the
farm and rigged up Dad's 12-ton shop press to compress the forks
enough to keep that daggone damper apparatus from spinning
inside the fork tubes while I torqued the valve assembly (#8
above), but the Internet and Ron Ayers Motorsports made it just too
easy (the handy PVC tool for the '03 KX250 didn't work on the '04
forks; otherwise, I'd have preserved my reputation for cheapness).
- What's the purpose of a bastard file? Answer: when you buy said
factory tool and discover that the factory didn't bother to de-burr
the inside of said tool and it doesn't fit properly around the outside
of the damper rod, you need the bastard file. And a drill helps.
Just another day in the life....
| March 4, 2008 |
This one's going to take some explanation, so let's break it down
into parts:
into parts:
| March 13, 2008 |
Another rite of Spring...the rebuilding of motorcycle engines. This
Kawasaki KX250 cylinder was actually the first of two to grace the surface
of my kitchen counter top, the other being the heart of my Gas Gas
300EC. Those odd-shaped metal pieces in the lower left corner are the
components of the most complicated power valve assembly I've ever
seen. Without the Internet at my disposal, those pieces would still be lying
on my kitchen counter. Thankfully, all parts found their places inside the
cylinder and the engine fired up just fine.
Racing season begins in 3 days....
Kawasaki KX250 cylinder was actually the first of two to grace the surface
of my kitchen counter top, the other being the heart of my Gas Gas
300EC. Those odd-shaped metal pieces in the lower left corner are the
components of the most complicated power valve assembly I've ever
seen. Without the Internet at my disposal, those pieces would still be lying
on my kitchen counter. Thankfully, all parts found their places inside the
cylinder and the engine fired up just fine.
Racing season begins in 3 days....
| March 24, 2008 |
What we have here is either the coolest thing I will do this summer, or
the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. This is a waiver of my rights
to claim stupidity as an excuse for riding my bicycle 471 miles across
Iowa within a 7 day period in July. The event is called RAGBRAI. Entries
are limited to 10,000 riders, who make overnight stops in small towns in
Iowa over the course of a week. It's big deal. However, apparently there
is some level of danger and potential pain involved in all of this. A
sampling of what I just agreed to:
So there you have it - mark this day on your calendar, folks...the day
John finally lost his mind, for good this time. Should be a hell of a ride.
the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. This is a waiver of my rights
to claim stupidity as an excuse for riding my bicycle 471 miles across
Iowa within a 7 day period in July. The event is called RAGBRAI. Entries
are limited to 10,000 riders, who make overnight stops in small towns in
Iowa over the course of a week. It's big deal. However, apparently there
is some level of danger and potential pain involved in all of this. A
sampling of what I just agreed to:
- "I realize that RAGBRAI events require physical conditioning." You
mean I have to pedal the bike? Myself? Crap. - "I am aware that the risk of injury or death is always present in
biking...." All these years, I thought injury and death only applied
to motorized biking. - "I acknowledge that I am signing this agreement freely and
voluntarily...." They got me there. I see there is no opt-out for
mental incapacity, otherwise there'd be no reason for anyone to
sign the waiver.
So there you have it - mark this day on your calendar, folks...the day
John finally lost his mind, for good this time. Should be a hell of a ride.
| March 30, 2008 |
It's arrived...the only totally new thing I bought for the 2008 racing
season (engine parts don't count). Thor supplied the chest protector (via
my hard-earned cash) and the number plate came from BRM Offroad. Now
everyone will know who they're passing in the woods.
season (engine parts don't count). Thor supplied the chest protector (via
my hard-earned cash) and the number plate came from BRM Offroad. Now
everyone will know who they're passing in the woods.
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| January - March 2008 |
The Kitchen Counter Archives