Howdy there bastards:

Hey, i know it's been a whiles ince I posted and so heres a round of drinks for you all, but I just got back from a little test ride on my new piece of crap dirt bike. OK, so my hands are freezing to where a bunch of Jack hasn't warmes me up, and I can't type worth a crap, and mt tteeth are chattering so hard I can't hardly talk, so don't worry too mych about the typso, and let met ell the story, OK?

I was hunting in the want ads looking for a bargain dirt bike, so i could have something to fuck around with now that the quarry is pretty much closed for the next couple of months, so i got to have something to do int he meantime and there's plenty of little roads and struff around here. So a cpuple of weeks ago there was an ad for a '72 Honda SL350 in the Freebies section, and the ad says "runs" so I say "It's mine, baby" and I pick it up.

Well, shit, the guy should have paid me to take the poor beast off his hands, low miles but she was pretty beat up, and the tank and pipes were dent to shit and the seat was missing most of the stuffing, but the bastard started on the third kick, and it didn't smoke too bad and the brakes seemed to work well enough, and the pink slip had numbers that matched the ones on teh frame, so I took it off his hands and headed to the house.

It took a little work to clean up and put air int the tires and whatnot, but basically I got it to the point where all the lights work and the brakes will stop as long as the downhill isn't too steep, and so out on the road we go today for the first time, today.

I already had a place that had testzone written all over it, End of a road, leading to a hilly stretch, with a big open field, not too many rocks, and a fire trail so i figure this is the spot. I knew it was going to be cold so i packed a bottle of my favoriet unkel Jacky D, and I figured it was going to be some work riding so i had a sixer of Buds, and headed out with the beast in the back of the truck.

Good think i have a ramp. I got to the place and had a couple of hits off of Jack for courage, considering the only riding I've done in the past 8 years has been on Jody's old Moto Guzzi when we can get it to run, and here I'm getting on a dinkyass 350 chain drive twin to do some serious mud riding. Another couple hits on the Jacky and the HOnda's startiing to look like it'll just slide right down the ramp, so i get her unstrapped and the reamp readuy and start pulling the handlebars to back up trying to get the tires lined up.

Well, that's kind of a pain in the ass, so i decide to sit on the seat and push against the wheelwells and the next thing the back tire is starting to feel the gravity and the front brakes arent working to well in reverse, and I'm going downhill backwards and no place to put my feet for balance. Shit! Damn near lost it, but the ramp wasn't long enough for that and my feet hit ground just in time. That was enough to require a couple more hits of Jack and a beer for good luck. Damn right, a ceremonial Beer, I figured, just to get ready for the ride.

so things are lookiiign pretty good, with the puke metallic yellow honda and two wheels on terra firma, so i lock up the trunk, grab the helmet and backsack with Jack and Buddy, and fire up. Yeah, baby, this thing DOES run. I head off the edge of the road and screw the throttle on good and the ass end breaks loos pretty quick in the mud and wet grass, and starts to come around. Well, fuck that, I get another gear and climb on the throttle and now we're heading down the hell aiming right for a trickyt little set of of two foot boulders looking to smansh the hell out of the front rim/tire and leave me lookign to pack this beast up a hill without a winch.

well, this is no fucking good whatsoever, so I try a countersteer and hang a cheek off the seat and goose the throttle and she damn near goes sliding sideways down the hill but the assend finally comes around and now I'm heading back up the hill. there's a pretty good roost of mud and grass coming off the back tire, adn the front end is not exactly wanting to staty on teh ground, and I'm sort of getting the idea that riding in the mud isn't exactly the same as on the street. In fact, I'm just about thinking to bail this mother when the firetrail comes up, and I jump the berm and get some air, and then come down pretty clean heading in the right direction.

WEll, that calls for a celebration, so I hit the brakes and all hell breaks loose, and I got the forks crosse at one point sliding in the mud, but I get that all fixed and finally stop and get off. Unkel Jacky's still in the bottle, and I do my best to fix that situation. FUcking bud is mostly foam, but I manage to squeeze a beer out of two, and I can't tell if its sweat or beer that seems to be covering most of my skin. I decide it's sweat.

Time to get to the test. I figure I got the experience now, and if I could get out of the rocks and up to the trail, then I can handle the beast under the worst of conditions. So I get her going and head up the fire trail, doing about 40, mud not too bad, adn of course no traffic up here. Start to get a couple of nice views out over teh valley, and then the next thing I know, the firetrail takes a sharp left and ducks down the hill into a bunch of trees. I'm thinking this might be trouble, because wheere it goes down into a little gully, that usually means a creek, and sure as shit, no sooner do I think it than I see it. It's been raining enought so that even the little seasonal creeks are carrying water, but htis is more than that, and the rocks are sitting up in pools, and it looks deep. road takes a right turn at the bottom where it crosses creek and heads back up the next hill.

Note to self: Brakes are absofuckinglutely worthless. Choices: 1) Jump. 2) Lay it down. 3) Ride it through. Well, hell, I figure I didn't get here by quitting, and the creek can't be that deep since it's a fire trail, right? SO the little voice says "too many rocks and the Jack will break" and then it's time.

Deep. Wet. Big Splash. A couple of coughs, and as much throttle as I could roll on, and all is quiet. Water is cold this time of year. Almost made it across, but no such luck, the bastard died still in the creek.

Well, fuck, this calls for some helf from the unkel. First pussh this bastard out of the creek. Yeah, perfect. I'm soaked. It's plenty cold, dead ass in the middle of winter, and clea and there's a wind blowing and this isn't looking too good. Unkel Jack is important ans I pay attention to him for acouple of minutyes to figure this one out.

OK, so there's fuel, and spark and compression, that's all it takes to make a motor run, especially if they all happen just right. I'm putting my money on wet spark, so I pull off the plug wires because that seems like a good thing to do. THen I think "tools" because I'm going to need those, and I start rummaging around looking for the toolkit, kind of hoping the the beast actually HAS a toolkit, because I neever looked for one before. HERE we go! A crap pliars, a flop end screwdriver and a couple of metrical end wrenches. Well fuck, I could rebuild a motor with this stuff, right here on the sopt, and have enough left over spare parts to build a coffee pot if i had a stove to put it on.

This part of the story gets detailed, but between the crap tools, and the Jack, and my numb hands shaking from the cold and wet, I finally got the the beast started and all the stuff put away and no spare parts, I'm trying to get my hands warm on the exhaust pipes and somehow transfer the heat to the rest of me, 'cause I'm shaking and cold and wet, and finally figure out that I should head back to the truck. This time, I decide to find a place to cross the creek without taking a bath.

so I got back to the truck dn got the bike loaded up and made it home finally without too much trouble. I got to do a little modification to the Beast so i can ride it underwater, but looks like it'll work to me.

Later bAstards.