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I solved the curse of my 1150. I discovered that the dowel that mates the rotor to the starter clutch is shorter than the the depth of the hole it resides in. From vibration the dowel would back out of the hole machined in the rotor and fall flushly into the hole on the starter clutch. Ahhh. So I had a local machine shop friend saw me off a little spacer dowel to sandwich inbetween the rotor and the starter clutch. No more shearing of bolts. Now I can go on a long ride somewhere, which I did.
This July, I departed on a 2 day trip to Mt. St. Helens from Bellingham Washington. Some of the best roads in Washington.
It was a nightmare getting there. It was hot for the NW, in the low 80's. My route took me through some great twisties, but included some short stints on I-5. A 15 mile traffic jam was my present. I exited to find 150 car lineups at lights. My trip came to a halt.
I stopped at Lowe's to find out my exhaust bracket had broken off. In to rig up some fix. Link chain to the rescue.
Off I go, the day wasting away in traffic. My planned route takes me on routes that seemingly don't exist. U turns, dead ends, dirtroads. I end up going down arrow straight boredom roads to get to the west side of Mt St. Helens, when my original route had me twisting and turning my worries away.
I finally end up at the lead in road to Mt. St. Helens. I gas up and run into to 2 guys riding back from Vancouver B.C. to LA. They spotted my 83 Katana as I pulled in and were pleased to see one still on the road. One guy was on a Hayabusa the other on a ZXR12. Nice rides for the long haul.
It's now 8pm, its light till about 10. I think it was about 65 miles to the top.
Now, there's is no one around, I have the road to myself.
Unbelievably perfect glass smooth pavement big, big sweepers that keep on sweeping. I'm getting into a groove. 4th to red, click 5th 6-7rpm on the brakes hard, down shift to 4th, rev to red 5th again. I'm getting amped just typing about it.
This road was triple digit bliss with no side roads and no people. The ole Kat felt pretty stable at these speeds, but it is neccessary to use a lot of rear brake with those wimpy single pistons up front. The steel lines up front help abit, along with the 1230 slugs slowing the engine down off the throttle.
The Works Performance shocks out back, a half inch longer than stock and the progressive fork springs and number three on preload of the 80 1100E style fork with axle in front of the fork instead of on the end , I think help put more weight on the front end. Whatever, it was working flawlessly, no "moments". I get to the top, the light is waning, I switch facesheild to clear to blast back down, just laughing to myself about how amazing this road is. I pass a few cars on the way down, but the last one I pass I get this feeling the driver is of the conservative sort and didn't appreciate me passing him over the ton. I think he has a cell phone, I start getting paranoid. About 5 miles later I slam on the brakes a pull a uwee, there's a dirt road with a gate that I can sneak around. I park it and set up a tent for the night.
This trip, however, I decide to pack light. Too light as it turned out. I brought a fleece sleeping bag, really only meant for the couch. No clothes other than the short sleeve shirt and underwear I was wearing under my leathers. No sleeping pad, rocky dirt road, elevation 2500-3000. Can you say dumb ass. I can. I froze, well not really but I was very cold, uncomfortable is a better word. I was waiting for it to get light.
When it did, I was off to the east side to do Windy Ridge. Probably 180 miles of turns lay ahead of me, These corners are more in the 50-80 mph range with 35mph tight ones up in the blast zone. The beauty of this road is the visibility of up coming corners. You can see 5-6 turns ahead and the pavement is excellent, but not as good as the mirror glass west side. I get to the top at 9am, I think to myself that was too quick, now I have to head home. I rail back down in a good groove again, its hard not to be on this road. I get to Packwood and decide if I should go through Mt. Rainer National Park or stay on the east side and head up to North Cascades Highway.
I decide to go through Mt. Rainer on Saturday morning in the middle of Summer. Strike one! I should have known while waiting in a ten minute line to get in that there were too many cars for what I had planned. I was spoiled by the lack of traffic at Mt. St. Helens.
I proceded to lug it behind a string of tinted windowed minivans and SUV's up these beautiful swithchback and hairpins shouting profanities inside my helmet. I was about to snap, what was I doing here, what was I thinking coming here. I was frustrated with my poor judgement. I made it to Paradise viewpoint, but it was a total drag.
Curses again, not with my bike, but with cars and people. I head over to Sunrise in hopes of finding less people. Wrong again. I'm heading up Cayuse Pass and see a string of sportbikers go by. I give them a wave. The speed limit is 35mph, much too slow for the lay of the road, in my opinion. A ZX-9 goes by the other way he gives a wave then a twirly with his hand. I thinking what was that, oh maybe a cop is ahead I think. I look around anxiously for one for a couple miles, nothing and not many cars either. I'm going 65mph uphill on a pretty good grade. I approach a white Chevy truck, I'm gaining on him fast, there's a double yellow line, but the road is straight, I pass him. Out of my peripherial vision I notice some writting on his door panel. Hmmm, was that a park ranger? No, could it be? Is that what ZX-9 guy was twirling about? Oh well damage is done, I thought as I banked into a nice uphill sweeper. About 2 miles up I approach a junction in the road, all the while wondering if that was a ranger. I downshift several times for the stop sign. What this, another park ranger out of his rig waving for me to come over. Oh man! Kick stand out, engine off, helmet off. "What did I do" I think full of guilt from my suspicion. A white truck comes around the corner rapidly and pulls over behind me.
Not a happy camper steps out of the truck. Late 40's- early 50's. He has been disrespectfully violated in his park. He didn't have an ego either! He doesn't say much, but just starts writting on the back hatch of the truck.
I try to poke a little humor his way. "You're just writting up a warning, right?" No, I'm issuing you a ticket. He was flipping several carbon copies over. I'm thinking this really sours my trip. I'm 37 with a wife and 2 kids and I feel like I'm 17 again. Getting in way too much trouble on my old 1980 GS 750ET. I was very bad on that bike and I feel very bad right now.
He issues me my ticket. He was all business, no fun and games here, especially since I'm on his turf. PASSING ON A DOUBLE YELLOW, WRECKLESS DRIVING AND NO INSURANCE. Thank you, thank you very much. I tell him, "it is my understanding that motorcycles don't need insurance in the state of Washington" I actually get him to laugh. He says "Haugh that's a good one, I haven't heard that one before." I start to think to myself did they change the law, maybe I am wrong. I wasn't.
I ride out of the park with all the wind out of my sails, just flappin, a Subaru Impreza is breathing on me hard going downhill at the designated 50mph. I pull over and let him pass. Curses, a car passing a bike, I don't have an ego either anymore.
A few months later, I go to court. Suit tie the whole bit. I appointed a Lawyer. I didn't realize a Wreckless was so stiff. And to think the thought crossed my mind to "run" out of the park. Well it turns out, the Federal Court being a National Park and all decided without me knowing it until I arrive at the courthouse, that two of the violations had been dropped and my 3 tickets had been reduced to a Negligent.
I was fully guilty of that, but had that been just a white truck I passed, none of this would be happening. So I didn't have to appoint a lawyer to plead guilty. Thanks for telling me that. The fine was $160 and my lawyer didn't charge me, eventhough, he had to drive half hour to get there. He told me to do something nice for someone sometime.
Two weeks later, I get pulled over for failing to signal 5 times. I have no turn signals on my Kat, I usually use hand signals when neccessary. I hope you folks have better luck on your supposed getaways. Carter
This July, I departed on a 2 day trip to Mt. St. Helens from Bellingham Washington. Some of the best roads in Washington.
It was a nightmare getting there. It was hot for the NW, in the low 80's. My route took me through some great twisties, but included some short stints on I-5. A 15 mile traffic jam was my present. I exited to find 150 car lineups at lights. My trip came to a halt.
I stopped at Lowe's to find out my exhaust bracket had broken off. In to rig up some fix. Link chain to the rescue.
Off I go, the day wasting away in traffic. My planned route takes me on routes that seemingly don't exist. U turns, dead ends, dirtroads. I end up going down arrow straight boredom roads to get to the west side of Mt St. Helens, when my original route had me twisting and turning my worries away.
I finally end up at the lead in road to Mt. St. Helens. I gas up and run into to 2 guys riding back from Vancouver B.C. to LA. They spotted my 83 Katana as I pulled in and were pleased to see one still on the road. One guy was on a Hayabusa the other on a ZXR12. Nice rides for the long haul.
It's now 8pm, its light till about 10. I think it was about 65 miles to the top.
Now, there's is no one around, I have the road to myself.
Unbelievably perfect glass smooth pavement big, big sweepers that keep on sweeping. I'm getting into a groove. 4th to red, click 5th 6-7rpm on the brakes hard, down shift to 4th, rev to red 5th again. I'm getting amped just typing about it.
This road was triple digit bliss with no side roads and no people. The ole Kat felt pretty stable at these speeds, but it is neccessary to use a lot of rear brake with those wimpy single pistons up front. The steel lines up front help abit, along with the 1230 slugs slowing the engine down off the throttle.
The Works Performance shocks out back, a half inch longer than stock and the progressive fork springs and number three on preload of the 80 1100E style fork with axle in front of the fork instead of on the end , I think help put more weight on the front end. Whatever, it was working flawlessly, no "moments". I get to the top, the light is waning, I switch facesheild to clear to blast back down, just laughing to myself about how amazing this road is. I pass a few cars on the way down, but the last one I pass I get this feeling the driver is of the conservative sort and didn't appreciate me passing him over the ton. I think he has a cell phone, I start getting paranoid. About 5 miles later I slam on the brakes a pull a uwee, there's a dirt road with a gate that I can sneak around. I park it and set up a tent for the night.
This trip, however, I decide to pack light. Too light as it turned out. I brought a fleece sleeping bag, really only meant for the couch. No clothes other than the short sleeve shirt and underwear I was wearing under my leathers. No sleeping pad, rocky dirt road, elevation 2500-3000. Can you say dumb ass. I can. I froze, well not really but I was very cold, uncomfortable is a better word. I was waiting for it to get light.
When it did, I was off to the east side to do Windy Ridge. Probably 180 miles of turns lay ahead of me, These corners are more in the 50-80 mph range with 35mph tight ones up in the blast zone. The beauty of this road is the visibility of up coming corners. You can see 5-6 turns ahead and the pavement is excellent, but not as good as the mirror glass west side. I get to the top at 9am, I think to myself that was too quick, now I have to head home. I rail back down in a good groove again, its hard not to be on this road. I get to Packwood and decide if I should go through Mt. Rainer National Park or stay on the east side and head up to North Cascades Highway.
I decide to go through Mt. Rainer on Saturday morning in the middle of Summer. Strike one! I should have known while waiting in a ten minute line to get in that there were too many cars for what I had planned. I was spoiled by the lack of traffic at Mt. St. Helens.
I proceded to lug it behind a string of tinted windowed minivans and SUV's up these beautiful swithchback and hairpins shouting profanities inside my helmet. I was about to snap, what was I doing here, what was I thinking coming here. I was frustrated with my poor judgement. I made it to Paradise viewpoint, but it was a total drag.
Curses again, not with my bike, but with cars and people. I head over to Sunrise in hopes of finding less people. Wrong again. I'm heading up Cayuse Pass and see a string of sportbikers go by. I give them a wave. The speed limit is 35mph, much too slow for the lay of the road, in my opinion. A ZX-9 goes by the other way he gives a wave then a twirly with his hand. I thinking what was that, oh maybe a cop is ahead I think. I look around anxiously for one for a couple miles, nothing and not many cars either. I'm going 65mph uphill on a pretty good grade. I approach a white Chevy truck, I'm gaining on him fast, there's a double yellow line, but the road is straight, I pass him. Out of my peripherial vision I notice some writting on his door panel. Hmmm, was that a park ranger? No, could it be? Is that what ZX-9 guy was twirling about? Oh well damage is done, I thought as I banked into a nice uphill sweeper. About 2 miles up I approach a junction in the road, all the while wondering if that was a ranger. I downshift several times for the stop sign. What this, another park ranger out of his rig waving for me to come over. Oh man! Kick stand out, engine off, helmet off. "What did I do" I think full of guilt from my suspicion. A white truck comes around the corner rapidly and pulls over behind me.
Not a happy camper steps out of the truck. Late 40's- early 50's. He has been disrespectfully violated in his park. He didn't have an ego either! He doesn't say much, but just starts writting on the back hatch of the truck.
I try to poke a little humor his way. "You're just writting up a warning, right?" No, I'm issuing you a ticket. He was flipping several carbon copies over. I'm thinking this really sours my trip. I'm 37 with a wife and 2 kids and I feel like I'm 17 again. Getting in way too much trouble on my old 1980 GS 750ET. I was very bad on that bike and I feel very bad right now.
He issues me my ticket. He was all business, no fun and games here, especially since I'm on his turf. PASSING ON A DOUBLE YELLOW, WRECKLESS DRIVING AND NO INSURANCE. Thank you, thank you very much. I tell him, "it is my understanding that motorcycles don't need insurance in the state of Washington" I actually get him to laugh. He says "Haugh that's a good one, I haven't heard that one before." I start to think to myself did they change the law, maybe I am wrong. I wasn't.
I ride out of the park with all the wind out of my sails, just flappin, a Subaru Impreza is breathing on me hard going downhill at the designated 50mph. I pull over and let him pass. Curses, a car passing a bike, I don't have an ego either anymore.
A few months later, I go to court. Suit tie the whole bit. I appointed a Lawyer. I didn't realize a Wreckless was so stiff. And to think the thought crossed my mind to "run" out of the park. Well it turns out, the Federal Court being a National Park and all decided without me knowing it until I arrive at the courthouse, that two of the violations had been dropped and my 3 tickets had been reduced to a Negligent.
I was fully guilty of that, but had that been just a white truck I passed, none of this would be happening. So I didn't have to appoint a lawyer to plead guilty. Thanks for telling me that. The fine was $160 and my lawyer didn't charge me, eventhough, he had to drive half hour to get there. He told me to do something nice for someone sometime.
Two weeks later, I get pulled over for failing to signal 5 times. I have no turn signals on my Kat, I usually use hand signals when neccessary. I hope you folks have better luck on your supposed getaways. Carter
I have never ridden a bike on the west side of the Mississippi River, but some day soon before I get to old, I hope to do the Northwest. I hope you have better luck the next time. Until later,
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