Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
sac·ri·lege
My Battery Went DEAD last week. All b'cos I turned my bike off, took the key out and accidently left the parking light on.
This kinda pisses me off about the Rocket 3 (and its the only thing right now) the parking light can be left on and the key removed by turning the ignition off all the way. That key position is just wrong to put the parking light switch at. As a rider you expect to be able to turn the ignition key off, turn your handle left, push the key and turn all they way and remove it to lock the bike. Guess what it does - leaves the parking light on.
This one afternoon, while showing my Rocket to a friend on a particulary sunny day - I did just that and completely killed my battery. I was riding to Death Valley the next day and it was past 7 PM when I discovered the problem. So I get my hands on a battery tender and 6 hours later - zip. The battery is completely dead.
So I did the unthinkable, the reprehinsible, the ugly, the most dastardly thing you could think of - I bought a harley battery from Peninsula Harley (about 0.5 miles away compared to Hattar Motors in San Rafael - about 45 miles away) and put it into my Rocket.
Somewhere out there is s a dead man spinning in his grave!
This kinda pisses me off about the Rocket 3 (and its the only thing right now) the parking light can be left on and the key removed by turning the ignition off all the way. That key position is just wrong to put the parking light switch at. As a rider you expect to be able to turn the ignition key off, turn your handle left, push the key and turn all they way and remove it to lock the bike. Guess what it does - leaves the parking light on.
This one afternoon, while showing my Rocket to a friend on a particulary sunny day - I did just that and completely killed my battery. I was riding to Death Valley the next day and it was past 7 PM when I discovered the problem. So I get my hands on a battery tender and 6 hours later - zip. The battery is completely dead.
So I did the unthinkable, the reprehinsible, the ugly, the most dastardly thing you could think of - I bought a harley battery from Peninsula Harley (about 0.5 miles away compared to Hattar Motors in San Rafael - about 45 miles away) and put it into my Rocket.
Somewhere out there is s a dead man spinning in his grave!
Monday, February 11, 2008
Bernie Buys a Bucolic Bike
My friend and collegue, Bernie found himself a steal on ebay. A '97 Kawasaki Vulcan with just 4K miles and in mint condition. Bernie works with me at my software company and he's pure genius. His passion for coding is matched only by his passion for beer and a good ride. So when he triumphantly announced to all of us (in his uniquely thick flemish accent) that he had bought a bike and needed a ride to go pick it up - I immediately volunteered. (My intentions were not all altruistic - I hadn't ridden my Rocket 3 with a pillion before and I was eager to see how the bike handled!!).
So with Bernie as my guinea pillion, we set off on a lovely Feb morning to Brentwood, CA from Palo Alto - a total distance of 130 miles roundtrip. Our trip took us over the dumbarton bridge to the east bay, a short ride on the 880 till Oakland and then onto 580 to Vasco Road. 580 is a nicer freeway than most. Most freeways are straight, flat and as interesting as Main St, Stillwater OK. 580 on the other hand is cut around a few hills (instead of through them) and makes for a nice ride around the castro valley.
The Rocket 3 as expected was sheer soufle! She chomped the tarmac in large mouthfuls. She sprinted from 90-110 MPH in micro seconds as I squeezed the throtlle. She whined as I barelled down the freeway with Bernie in tow. Bernie has a doctor's handwriting and he mistook his own written directions and we ended up going the wrong way on Vasco Rd. We passed the Sandia Labs and made a U turn towards the city of Brentwood after checking google maps on my blackberry (which uses highly complex and sophisticated Alien technology to pin point my location to within "1700 meters" using cell phone signal triangulation techniques - I was told that Larry Page himself thought up the algorithm right after he finished debugging "Deep Thought "and typed "make" to build and run the ultimate computer to the ultimate question - what kind of shag carpeting would look groovy on the Goooooooooooogle Jet?"
The last 20 miles to Brentwood took us through some amazing scenery. Lovely rolling hills with windmills as far as the eye could see. And the most gorgeously curvy road. Sensing a golden opportunity to learn how to corner my rocket 3 - I started to bank left and right to meet every curve just right. This bike is Mohammed Ali - she's a butterfly on the curves and a she stings like a bee on the straights.
Brentwood is a laid back little town (with a (sorta sleepy look). We picked up the Vulcan from Steve - an enormous human being wearing an even more enormous hawaain shirt. Steve has an interesting little auto dealership, he buys and restores old pickups and transforms them into collectibles. He does the occasional bike but old pickups are his forte. We rode back home through the serene pastures and hills of Brentwood with Bernie learning the ways of the Vulcan.
Somewhere on the way back ... I thought it was time to make a nice long road trip to an exotic place and it struck me - a ride to Death Valley CA.
Get out of my dreams, get into my Garage!
Sunday Jan 27th 2008 is a special day. It really is. B'cos that was the day that I stopped day dreaming, fantasizing that SOME DAY I would have a Rocket 3. Sunday Jan 27th was that SOMEDAY. 4:30 PM and I'm doing my weekly browse of cycletrader.com and I see the posting for a NEW 2007 Triumph Rocket 3 Classic with $2000 of accessories free. 20 minutes later, Doonga and I are furiously racing up US 101 to Hattar Motorsports in San Rafael (45 miles away from Redwood City). 5:05 PM and I stand breathless in front of what will be my bike - she is magnificent. A finer steed was not hewed out of steel. A dual tone (white/black) paint, massive engine block, 2294cc Displacement, 3 Cylinder, 140 Horsepower - behold the MOST POWERFUL CRUISER IN THE WORLD.
Prior to riding a Triumph, my riding experience was limited to the Royal Enfield Bullet (One of India's greatest national treasures right up there with the Kamasutra and Aishwarya Rai!). Now the Bullet is massive by Indian Standards (mine was the somewhat exotic 550cc engine) and has a gutteral yet bassy exhaust note (If James Earl Jones was a set of exhaust pipes - he'd be on a bullet). The bullet has a dry weight of around 380 lbs, the Rocket 3 in comparison is 705 lbs and close to 4.5 times in engine displacement. This looked like a machine that I MUST treat with a lot of humility and respect.
Valerie, the finance manager (turned sales person) seemed even more nervous than I was about (me) riding the bike home (it was raining 2.5 inches that weekend). Michael the chief technician gave me a short seminar on breaking the engine in and asked if I was nervous. I lie and say "Nah! course not". In Michael's own words - "anyone who doesn't get a little bit scared about riding this bike must be crazy". I sheepishly admit to be being a "little nervous".
I buy my gear (riding jacket, gloves, boots) and get ready to make the 45 mile ride home. The heavens are pissing down. I decide to do a practice run in the parking lot. I fire up the 2.4L engine. It seems kinda whiny (not throaty and gutteral) and my buyers remorse kicks in (for the record that was the one and only time I ever felt like I did something stupid). I click into First Gear and Ease the clutch on the horse and she takes off (Oh my fckg lord I've never felt torque like this). I ramble around the parking lot several times trying to build my confidence and courage to ride this monster of a bike home. Doonga suggests its time to get the show on the road. I ride the bike out of the lot onto the main road in second. Make a turn on to the freeway entrance, say a little prayer and twist the throttle. Immediately I know that I don't have the highly developed and fine motor control over my nerves needed to handle this throttle - a single degree of extra twist and she pounces ahead.
10 minutes later I'm on 101 South bound on the Golden Gate Bridge in complete awe of the sheer brilliance of the folks at Hinckley and my profound privileged life to own one of these utterly magnificent machines.
Its been almost 3 weeks now since I brought her home. In those 3 weeks I've ridden all over the San Fransisco Bay Area and done a 1200 mile ride to Death Valley, CA and back (A ride report soon I promise). But every time I sit on that saddle, every time I flick that ignition on, my heart starts to beat faster, my forehead gets sweaty and I breath shorter.
Its truly awesome when you realize a dream!.
Prior to riding a Triumph, my riding experience was limited to the Royal Enfield Bullet (One of India's greatest national treasures right up there with the Kamasutra and Aishwarya Rai!). Now the Bullet is massive by Indian Standards (mine was the somewhat exotic 550cc engine) and has a gutteral yet bassy exhaust note (If James Earl Jones was a set of exhaust pipes - he'd be on a bullet). The bullet has a dry weight of around 380 lbs, the Rocket 3 in comparison is 705 lbs and close to 4.5 times in engine displacement. This looked like a machine that I MUST treat with a lot of humility and respect.
Valerie, the finance manager (turned sales person) seemed even more nervous than I was about (me) riding the bike home (it was raining 2.5 inches that weekend). Michael the chief technician gave me a short seminar on breaking the engine in and asked if I was nervous. I lie and say "Nah! course not". In Michael's own words - "anyone who doesn't get a little bit scared about riding this bike must be crazy". I sheepishly admit to be being a "little nervous".
I buy my gear (riding jacket, gloves, boots) and get ready to make the 45 mile ride home. The heavens are pissing down. I decide to do a practice run in the parking lot. I fire up the 2.4L engine. It seems kinda whiny (not throaty and gutteral) and my buyers remorse kicks in (for the record that was the one and only time I ever felt like I did something stupid). I click into First Gear and Ease the clutch on the horse and she takes off (Oh my fckg lord I've never felt torque like this). I ramble around the parking lot several times trying to build my confidence and courage to ride this monster of a bike home. Doonga suggests its time to get the show on the road. I ride the bike out of the lot onto the main road in second. Make a turn on to the freeway entrance, say a little prayer and twist the throttle. Immediately I know that I don't have the highly developed and fine motor control over my nerves needed to handle this throttle - a single degree of extra twist and she pounces ahead.
10 minutes later I'm on 101 South bound on the Golden Gate Bridge in complete awe of the sheer brilliance of the folks at Hinckley and my profound privileged life to own one of these utterly magnificent machines.
Its been almost 3 weeks now since I brought her home. In those 3 weeks I've ridden all over the San Fransisco Bay Area and done a 1200 mile ride to Death Valley, CA and back (A ride report soon I promise). But every time I sit on that saddle, every time I flick that ignition on, my heart starts to beat faster, my forehead gets sweaty and I breath shorter.
Its truly awesome when you realize a dream!.
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