338 Dead Leaves on the Ground

Yes, folks, that's what fall is all about:
Lots of dead leaves falling off the trees because it is gradually getting darker and colder around here.
Isn't nature so natural? ;)

Well, I went for a bit of a hike along some of the Pachaug enduro loop last Sunday (since I decided to take the day off from riding it on my WR-250FY), and now, I wish I'd have ridden it, instead, because I saw no other hikers out there to chat with about the lovely leaves on the trees.
Oh, well.
It was worth a shot.
I still get a chuckle when I remember the deer-in-the-headlights expression on the faces of these hikers when I approach them on my motorcycle.
I really do believe they do not realize they're walking on a legal motorcycle trail loop.

Today (Saturday), I'm heading on out to the ol' Pachaug rock pile nice and early, and will probably be on the trail by 10:30am.

-John

337: We're in Leaf Peeper Heaven

I don't live in or ride my dirt bike in New Hampshire, but I did borrow this pic from somebody else's blog without cropping the caption at the bottom.
If you think it's funny, they get the credit. ;)

Yes, folk, we are, indeed, in the season where the leaves change color.
That means that while I was out on the ol' Pachaug enduro loop riding my WR-250FY yesterday (and it was a good ride, too, and I rode well), I came upon a few little expeditions under way on the trails.
These were groups of people - looking very much like a school teacher bringing her classroom of school kids out on the trails as some sort of field trip - walking the very same trails that make up parts of the Pachaug loop.
What were they doing out there?
Well, what else? - getting their jollies by seeing the leaves on the trees.
Why is this worthy of getting out there to see?
Probably because they think it's so pretty-looking and it makes them feel like they're really doing something that makes them feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Personally, while I think the view of the leaves turning red, yellow, and gold can look mighty fine, I actually get a stronger feeling at seeing all this that winter is coming in a couple of months, and I'd better enjoy the above-freezing temperatures while I can.
And, while I like to walk the same trails I ride on at times, it really ain't to soak-in the scenery and marvel at it, but to better learn and memorize the details in the terrain that I would only otherwise see while riding that trail at speed.
So, if I come across some city slickers out there leave peepin' I just slow way down, wave and say, "Hello" as I putt by, and be on my merry way.

However, the facial expression I usually get from these wanna-be hikers is one of, "Hey! What are you doing out here riding that dirt bike? Can't you see we're trying to hike along, here?"
My immediate though is one of, "Why, yes, I can see that you are hiking along there...right along the official, state of Connecticut-approved Pachaug enduro loop motorcycle riding trail, my friend".

You see, I seriously doubt these people know where they are standing as I putt by and wave at them.
I'm willing to bet they think I'm some kind of nature-hating, scenery-wrecking, outlaw dirt bike rider who is out there messing things up for everybody else, and that I have no respect or admiration for the outdoors.
I'd actually get a kick out of it if one of these hikers gave me a snotty attitude like that.
Why?
Well, because I'd have to tell them that I'm the one out there on those trails every weekend, not them - I never see these people at any other time out on the actual trails.
Typically, they stay within sight of the SUV that got them there into the Pachaug state forest, and that means near the parking lot for cars.
So, there's no way in heck that I'd stand for that kind of a reception, one that I just very well may get some day, judging by the looks on these peoples' out-of-doors-for-once-in-their-lives faces.

So, today I may choose to not ride the bike, but instead, take a little hiking expedition of my own out onto the Pachaug enduro loop trails, hoping to run across more leaf peepers.
Maybe I'll be able to ask if they've seen anybody out riding a dirt bike past them. ;)

-John

336: Don't Wake Big Daddy

This is what will happen if we all were to ride our dirt bikes at the same time:

We'd wake up big daddy and really piss him off to the point that he'd probably use some silly excuse (that most dimwits out there would swallow hook, line, and sinker) to make dirt bike riding illegal from then, onward.

From time to time, I'll go to a motorcycle test ride website (a site that rides new models coming out and giving them all a thumbs up in order to please the manufacturer and get plenty of advertising in exchange) to see what they wrote about it.

One thing I'm seeing now, more than ever, is the constant reminding us all that we should keep the bikes just as they come off the showroom floors as far as the exhaust muffler and even airbox inlet size is concerned.

This is all to (supposedly) eliminate unwanted noise and keep overly loud dirt bikes off the trails and eliminate pissing-off the non-riders who also use the same trails for walking, pissing on trees, growing pot plants, and screwing their next door neighbor's wife while the neighbor is at work.

I'm completely against bikes that are too loud.

What constitutes a bike that is too loud?

If you want to put your fingers in your ears while it goes by you, that's too loud, especially if the retard riding it gasses it intentionally as he's near you because he thinks he's being a really cool macho man.

If a dirt bike is this loud, what the numbskull is doing is, basically, either using a muffler that's supposed to be used only on a race track like a motocross track (where there are no walking trails or houses or scenic vistas to stop and drool over while you fantasize about living back in 1801 when things were just so pure and simple (but, of course, you'd still expect to have your electric lights, TV, microwave oven, fast food joints, Internet radio, and your new SUV or sporty little car)), or the retard modified the original muffler to make it that loud.

Again, he did this because he's a numbskull and maybe even a simpleton.

So, what the motorcycle press has been doing lately (although the less sound = more ground slogan has been around since the 1970s) is telling us that we should be happy with how the bike sounds and (most importantly) how the bike actually runs and performs straight off the showroom floor.

I have a severe problem with this because my very own WR-250FY firebreather comes off the showroom floor totally choked-up in order to meet sound and noise and exhaust gas emissions standards and regulations that are ridiculously tight, stringent, and, basically I feel, meant to eventually squash the ability to produce dirt bikes at all sometime in the future when they make them even tighter.

The way my bike ran off the showroom would basically be an embarrassment to Yamaha Motor Co. if it's showroom condition was actually how it was supposed to ridden, especially by a rider who knows how to ride, and ride well.

In order for the bike to run as it should, you need to remove obstructions built into the bike at the airbox inlet, exhaust muffler outlet, unplug a wire from the electrical part known as the ECU, and change parts in the carburetor that basically supply more fuel to be burned and make some kind of power a 250cc dirt bike is expected to make.

I did these, and am completely satisfied with how the bike runs and performs.

So, what's the big deal?

These test review websites (and print magazines) are literally telling readers to leave the bike in at least semi-corked-up condition and just live with the poor performance.

In fact, they even write about how the bike feels weak and how it would be nice to have more power and better throttle response, yet they don't even mention that they could get that performance by simply uncorking the bike of it's silly restrictions.

They do this because they feel that big daddy (or big brother, or the US government) will clamp down and close for good any remaining legal off-road riding areas unless we all tiptoe around on wheezy bikes that can barely be heard running.

To me, this is a sad thing because I'd rather eat shit and die than ride my WR-250FY in the condition it was when brand-new.

Yes, it was that plugged-up and that lousy.

I know that you can uncork these bikes yet not have the noise it makes overly loud, and that is how mine is, so, why are we reading this stuff?

Unfortunately, it seems to me that it's because they're bowing to pressure from enviro-groups that threaten action like having riding areas closed down.

Closed down unless we never as much as make a peep or turn over a single stone laying on the ground, or, heaven forbid, kick up a cloud of dust as we ride by or disturb a patch of sand that hasn't been disturbed in 10,000,000 years.

Maybe, there are even some double agent back stabbers who are really environMENTAL fanatics working for these motorcycle test websites and magazines.

Yes, whenever I read this poor excuse for a motorcycle review, I want to throw up because I feel it is simply trying to appease an enemy that is going to eventually squash dirt bike riding for good, no matter how quiet your bike is, or how polite and courteous you are to others, or no matter how much ass you kiss.

I feel that they are simply buying a little more time while giving-in a little more, and a little more.

Off to jerk,

-John

335: Ambush on the Rockpile Trail

In a way, this is what happened to me while toward the end of my Pachaug rockpile ride yesterday.

I went for another weekend Pachaug enduro loop ride yesterday, and I decided to change things up a bit by doing something I hadn't done all year:
I left the house later so that I would finish the ride at dusk.
While this made washing the bike a pain in the ass since I'd have to rely on my outside porch light, it made the ride, itself, enjoyable since late afternoon and dusk favor my eyesight because there is little to no bright sunlight making me squint all over the place.
Because of the improved vision, I turned up the wick a bit and rode my favorite pine-needled sections faster than I have in a while, if not ever, and found that immensely enjoyable.
That, alone, made the ride worthwhile.
I can only imagine what it would be like to have what's considered normal vision, both in having 20/20 and not having trouble with bright sunlight washing-out details on the ground.

Another thing new that I did was adding yet another trail section that I believe I've never ridden before in my life, a section that is an actual part of the Pachaug enduro loop.
You see, there are a few trail sections that I skip every time I ride the loop because I think they suck and are not fun for me.
Typically, that means sections that are very wet and very rocky to the point that it's more of a case with putting up with terrain I don't like than getting some enjoyment out of it.

The thing that's different about this new section is that not only is it another section that is a part of the loop that I'd been skipping, but I believe it was not a part of the Pachaug enduro loop back in the days when I first rode it with some friends in the late 1980s, and the trail I'd been taking (allowing me to skip it) up until yesterday was actually part of the loop back then.
So, what I did was instead of turning right at a three-way intersection, I turned left, and this basically had me making a bigger clockwise loop to get to the same spot a few miles later.
I have to admit that the first half of this new (to me) section wasn't fun because it was similar to a snotty rock garden, but after that was past, it was enjoyable.

New England is synonymous with rocks, folks.

The title of this bloggy post and the pic to go along with it is in reference to what happened at about the 50 mile mark (the ride was 56 miles in total).
My ol' buddy Tim the squirrel defender and the outdoors man was, basically, waiting along one of the last paved road sections for me to ride by, and when he saw my headlight coming up from behind him, he pulled his car a few feet ahead and stopped it squarely in the path of where I'd be turning off the pavement onto the trail.

This was a drag because I didn't feel like stopping to talk with anybody, really, because it was already a few minutes before sunset and I did not want to spent the best minutes of lighting conditions just making small talk.
Not just because it was Tim, but no matter who is would have been.
However, I was still courteous enough to grant him his wish and did stop to chat for about five minutes before telling him I had to get going.
He wanted me to stay longer, but, he's a big boy, now, and I did not leave the house later just to waste the best part of the ride (lighting-wise) chatting about nothing important.

Of course, the fact that I'm a criminal and an asshole who did it on purpose in his mind for killing a squirrel with my Ford Ranger almost two years ago has some bearing on this, but, that's not the main reason I wanted out of there - I just wanted to continue the ride without interruption.
Period.
No matter who it was.

So, I finished the ride at dusk, and it was a good one.
I got the WR-250FY washed via the light from a single light bulb, and although it wasn't as thorough a job as usual, it was good enough.
The bike is currently serviced and ready for another ride on the rockpile loop, and odds are, I'll go today.
If I do, I'll probably edit this post with an update on how it went.

Hoping for no ambush,
-John

Edit:

Today's Pachaug rock pile ride went off even later than it did yesterday, to the point that I cut about 15 miles out of it for a total of 43.
The ride was pretty good and I feel like I rode good as well.
I made another decent pass through my favorite pine-needled section, although I believe yesterday's was a little bit faster, although at another favorite section I rode faster today than I did yesterday.
All-in-all, it was a decent ride out there today.

Next weekend, though, I'll probably leave the house at a more normal time so that I can both not worry about running out of daylight and be able to wash the bike in daylight, too.

Another good thing is that I did not run into an ambush on the trail. ;)

-John

334 Illiterate Idiots

Here is the real reason why some people claim that they don't need no stinkin' service manual to wreck - oops! - work on their motorcycles.
This person seems to be in the early stages of supreme idiocy, and is probably in extreme bliss since bliss is made of ignorance.

The weather on this Sunday morning is cloudy, and we had a short rain shower that wet the ground.
I plan on heading out to the ol' Pachaug rock pile to ride, once again, the ol' Pachaug enduro loop.
I'm feeling pretty good, got a good night's sleep, and want to have a good ride on the WR-250FY.
I'll be more cautious in the shadows where I don't expect rapid evaporation of the water on the ground (and the rocks and tree roots), but, I've done it plenty of times before in these conditions.

The above photo is my thoughts on the usual reaction most people have when they ask for advice when they want to fix-up the 1907 Schmencycle they just picked up.
See, the scenario is usually one where the guy gets a dirt bike for low bucks and has visions of roosting off into the sunset for a total cash outlay of something like $1.98 on that very same bike.
The catch is that the bike was bought for low bucks in the first place because it's a beat-up P.O.S., and it needs a lot of work and money to make right.

Well, the typical guy goes onto a message board, starts a thread about having picked the bike up for cheap, and asks other members for advice on fulfilling his off-road riding dream.
In other words:
He states that the bike has problems (usually isn't even in running condition) and asks how he can make the bike into a good runner that can be ridden and enjoyed - for low bucks.

When I answer, I'll always recommend he buy himself a factory Service Manual for his exact year and model of motorcycle.
This may sound like sound advice to you, but most of these guys looking for assistance take that advice like Dracula being asked to take a swig of holy water.
The usual reasons they don't like the thought of that are:

1) They cost too much
2) They are too difficult to get
3) They cost too much
4) They are difficult to read, follow, and understand
5) They cost too much
6) They "don't tell you shit, anyway"
7) They cost way too much, and this is a low-buck project, remember?

I laugh when the dimwit plainly shows he has no intention of picking up the correct Service Manual because, shortly thereafter, he'll be asking the very same questions that Hallmark the typical guy trying to get his bike running without having a clue as to what he's doing.
Yes, he'll scoff at spending the money for a book written about his very own bike, but he'll spend days and weeks on it trying to make it a go without one.

In the above seven reasons not to get a Service Manual (sharp readers can tell there are really only four), reasons two, four, and six are downright funny to me.
Why?
Because they are the kinds of things written by a complete illiterate moron, as shown in the above pic.

Where do you get a Service Manual for a 1979 Honda XL-185S?
Geeeeeeeeee, Bucky.
Did you try asking at a Honda motorcycle dealer?
Or, perhaps you were shocked that Wal-Mart didn't have a copy on the shelf, right next to the pantyhose and toothpaste (made in China), and gave up due to that traumatic experience.

Service Manuals being difficult to understand?
Sure.
As long as you have no idea on how to or inclination to gain knowledge and understanding by reading a book specifically written for the very same P.O.S. that your grubby little hands are molesting.
Perhaps you were expecting 497 full-color photographs per page explaining how you are supposed to reach for a 10mm wrench in order to turn a particular nut counter-clockwise in order to loosen it, Leroy.
Hmmmmmm, yes.
Maybe we all should wonder how that information was left out while we take a seat next to you on the blue bus, huh?

Reason six is basically an extension of reason number four, as this is what the numbskull shouts when he throws a temper tantrum because he's frustrated that he can't ride his low-buck P.O.S. after months of trying to get it working correctly his way.
Folks, what the dimwit really means is that in order for his inept brain to follow a Service Manual, it probably would need 497 pictures (complete with drawings of little puppy dogs running around chasing butterflies with human-looking smiles on their faces) just to show him how to remove the seat.
Since producing such a book would probably require 1,584,083 pages, I doubt that Leroy and his P.O.S. could afford it.
See?
He could afford and easily obtain the Service Manual as they are really written, but the one of his daydreams would be ridiculously expensive, not to mention impossible to carry around easily.

Off to the rock pile,
-John

Edit:

Today's rock pile ride out on the ol' Pachaug enduro loop was good.
There was water in the usual spots where it collects after a good rain (I wish it were like it was in July - dry as a bone), but that didn't pose too much a problem for me and my WR-250FY with the Bridgestone M22/M23 hard terrain tires.
Even though the tires don't work well in anything wet or soft, I got through those wet and mushy sections in one piece.

I really enjoyed my favorite pine-needled and whooped-out section today, even though I got the timing of a few whoops wrong and ended-up riding off the side of the trail for a moment.
No big deal because I just picked a spot where I'd make my correction and rode back on track without stopping.
Maybe someday I'll have the placement and shape of all of those whoops memorized, something that's hard to do when I won't see those miles of whoops until I ride through them next weekend.
Too bad I don't live right there.
Riding out to that section (and therefor, the whole Pachaug enduro loop) would be something I could do even after jerk, not just on weekends.

I'm looking toward going out there next weekend, and that's a good sign.

I also saw several illegals out there on motocross bikes and an ATV coming by in the opposite direction, so, I just pulled off to the side and waved until they all passed.
No real skin off my ass, just as long as we don't have a head-on collision someday.
That would suck - been there, done that.

-John

333 is Half of 666

The WR-250FY Firebreather just after being washed following today's Pachaug rock pile ride.
It was a good one, I'm glad to say.
Or, more accurately, write. ;)

I've read that the real meaning behind 666 is not that it means the Antichrist, but really is an esoteric (meant to be hidden from all the dumb people down below the supremely evolved bigshots with the truly mature minds) meaning for the ultimate in human achievement:
The New Man.
Or, when man has become perfected enough - through the use of superior intellect - to become god.
Notice I used a lower case g. ;)
Naturally, only those who have superior brains and the correct genetic makeup are capable of such things.

Today's ride in the ol' Pachaug rock n' roll pile was a pretty good one. I rate it a 7.5 out of 10.
That's not too shabby.
It could have been better, but there was a lot of standing water in the usual spots where water collects after a good rain, and that's what we got on Thursday and Friday.
Still, even though there were some slippery spots, I felt good and I rode in a decent manner and I enjoyed myself out there.
I'm looking forward to going out there again next weekend, already, and that's a good sign. :)

I also saw a couple of skinny trees that had been intentionally bulldogged down across the trail, probably by some skinny punk environmental fuckface retard bozo freak loser jerk.
These homos, assuming that they are truly irritated that guys like myself ride their dirt bikes on the LEGAL DIRT BIKE TRAIL, YOU GODDAMN IDIOTS, seriously need to get a life.
No, wait.
They need to get punched in the face, and then get a life.

I saw plenty of tire tracks out there, today, and also saw fellow riders at their trucks parked in the parking lot at the start of the rockpile loop, but I didn't actually see anybody while out on the loop, let alone ride with anybody else.
My ol' buddy Tim the Squirrel Defender called me just after I got the bike washed and told me that he was out there on his mammoth Honda XR-650R, as well, although he said he started his ride just after I finished mine.

Well, I guess it's time for beauty sleep.

-John

332 Fuzzy Little Critters Running Across the Road

You best be watchin' where you be steppin', little forest critters, lest somebody in an automobile squash the daylights out of you.

I have an ol' buddy named Tim who I used to work with, and more recently, have ridden dirt bikes with.
Tim fancies himself an outdoorsman, much more so than most people.
He feels he has a better understanding of how all things outdoorsy work, and has a better appreciation for it.
I believe that also includes me, even though I have literally lived in the woods all my life.
When we go riding together, he sometimes shows more interest in a bird that swoops down into view than riding the bike.
In fact, I believe that his riding a dirt bike is at least partially due to it being an easier way to cover miles and get out into the woods to observe, study, and admire nature.
It makes him feel good.

The reason I wrote that about my buddy Tim is because, one fateful day in February of 2010, we were driving down the road in my clammy ol' Ranger and a squirrel ran out in front of me.
I ran the squirrel over.
Tim reacted as if it were his own personal pet squirrel.
Basically, he became so upset over it, it drove a wedge between us and damaged our relationship.
Yes, folks, my running over a squirrel did that, and since that time, I rode with him a couple more times before deciding it was no longer feeling like a good time and worth the trip out to his neck of the woods.
Basically, Tim still feels that I need to be punished for running over the squirrel, and his way of doing that is acting like a jerk to me.

However, we still keep in touch via phone when he'll call about once a month on average.
I'd like to get together and do something we both enjoy - riding our dirt bikes - but not until I feel convinced it would be worth it.
Well, just last night, Tim called to tell me he's been scanning the classifieds for a Honda CR-F450X.
That's a Honda dirt bike that is, basically, the Honda 450cc version of my Yamaha WR-250FY.
That is, a dirt bike made for off-road use that is based on their motocross bike called the CR-F450R.
So, it's a CR-F450R with lights, odometer, 18-inch rear wheel, electric starting, softer suspension settings, and choked-up air intake and exhaust mufflers.
Once you get rid of the choked-up parts, you have an off-road version of their 450cc motocross bike.

I think this is great news because his current dirt bike, a 2007 Honda XR-650R - is simply a big, heavy tank for riding in the Pachaug rock pile.
In fact, most riders would agree that it's a pretty poor choice for that area since it's way more weight, mass, and size than makes sense out there, and the fact that it's a 650cc engine won't make-up for the weight and size penalty.
No, that big bike is meant for more wide-open spaces, and when he told me that he's thinking about a CR-F450X, I said that it was a great idea.
A CR-F450X would be a much better choice for the trails that we'd ride on, and would be much more enjoyable to ride.

If he ends up getting one of these bikes, I just may have to go riding with him again.
Hopefully, there aren't any kamikaze squirrels out on that day. ;)

Off to jerk,
-John