Eleven Years, Over a Million Page Views

I started writing this when I got my motorcycle license in my early forties. The first post was in March of 2013 when I decided to get my learner's permit. From there I've tried to (as honestly as I can) describe my motorcycling experience. In that time I've gone through a bewildering array of bikes as I've figured out how I was going to enjoy this hobby. I noticed that the blog has just passed a million views (and messed up the odometer styled page counter), so thought it time for a review. Where have I wandered in the past 11 years of motorcycling? It all began with my Mum's passing and an opportunity to ride without panicking those around me.

The First '07 Ninja 650 seemed like a logical starting bike. From there I got my first fixer-upper in the form of a '94 Kawasaki C10 Concours. Getting that out of a hedge, sorting it out and putting lots of miles on it felt like a big win, but I was still learning and when the carbs went on me, I lost the plot with it. That's one of those 'Costanza moments' when I wish I could have a do-over - I've got the tools and knowhow now to sort them out!

The KLE dual sport was too small for me (couldn't get me to 100kms/hr which is dangerous on our increasingly crowded and impatient local roads), so it came and went. I also dabbled with an old Yamaha XS1100, but never got it road worthy so it doesn't make the list. Then there was the PW80 I got for Max which he wanted nothing to with, so it came and went. Neither of them cost me anything (I broke even on both) so, whatever.

With the Concours acting up and a dead Midnight Special in the garage, I was prompted into the '03 Triumph Tiger, which has been my longest serving machine (currently at 8 years and over 40,000kms travelled). The Tiger filled the gap for a long time and let me drop both the Yamaha and the Kawasaki. While the Tiger performed regular riding duty I came across a Honda Fireblade that had been sidelined for several years, got it for a song, fixed it up, rode it for a season and then sold it on for a small profit, which felt like a win.

During the early days of COVID the Tiger started acting up and I came across a 2010 Kawasaki GTR1400/Concours 14 for sale with low miles that had also been sidelined in a shed. I sorted out this complex bike and once again felt like my mechanicking skills had levelled up. With some extra contract work I'd done and the money from the Fireblade this step up to something more expensive didn't eat into savings.

The C14 and Tiger are both still currently in the garage. In 2021, as COVID lingered, I came across an opportunity to try a vintage restoration. I had a choice of several bikes and took one that was the furthest gone, which in retrospect was a mistake (don't get cocky, right?). I cleaned up this ratty old chopped 1971 Bonneville and got to the point where it sat in the corner of the garage because I'm too stingy to throw money at it. Lesson learned: if you want to go vintage, be prepared to pay through the nose for it and wait a lot for parts availability.

I let the Bonneville go this spring for what I paid for it (minus the new parts). It was a loss but it gave me something to do while the world stopped and I learned a lot. It was fun doing an archeological inspection of a machine that was almost as old as I am.

What's next? I've never owned a new bike before. Following my shear perversity in terms of motorcycling, I'm tempted by a Moto Guzzi V85 TT. Partly because of the character, partly because I think they're stunning and partly because it's so not everyone else.

I noticed the other day that the blog has passed a million page views. It took since March of 2013 (when I started riding) to pull it off, so that's just over 11 years, but a million is a bigger number than most people can conceive. Over the 4083 days this blog has been up it has averaged over 250 page views every day, which feels good. It provides information for people looking for details on some of the mechanics I've tackled, and it also gets good pickup on travel stories and bike tech. I'm hoping more travel stories are in the future.

Another story that popped up recently was the ride around Vancouver Island ten years ago. That would be the first time I rented a bike while away from home. It led to the Island Escape story in Motorcycle Mojo. What isn't mentioned there is that prior to my wife's conference we also rented scooters and went for an adventure to Butchart Gardens in Victoria.

More travel opportunities like that, or Max and I's ride through the Superstition Mountains in Arizona, or down to the Indianapolis MotoGP race would be fantastic, it's difficult to find the time though.

The other day I thought I'd get into the throttle controls on the Tiger and clean and lubricate all the bits (if you read this regularly you can guess where this is going). Everything plastic on this 21 year old bike is brittle and yep, the throttle cable adjuster broke. I've jury-rigged a solution, but like everything else on this bike, finding parts is becoming 'vintage difficult and expensive', even though it's anything but.

My biking decisions might be made for me if we decide to move. If we downsize into a condo or something without a garage I'd be tempted to clear the deck and get something new. At that point having something that someone else has to work on while it's under warranty would make sense. I don't know how long I'd be happy with no working space, but perhaps I'd end up getting in with a shop coop and having some space in a shared garage somewhere. My approach to motorcycling is quite isolating. A change in circumstances might be a good thing.

If every time I touch the Tiger to do maintenance (it needs regular TLC) the parts crumble in my hands, I don't know how much longer I can keep it going. I'd really like to get it to six figures but beyond that I'm not sure - perhaps turn it into modern art?

I'm still also keen to pursue trials riding and perhaps long distance enduro with an eye for finishing rather than beating up machinery to attain top speeds. I'd do track days but I live in Ontario, which doesn't make access to things like track days easy in a any way. Likewise with the off roading. It's about, but it's sporadic and they make it as difficult as possible. Living somewhere else might open up motorcycling opportunities that feel out of reach here in the overcrowded world of South Western Ontario.

50 Year Old Triumph Bonneville Restoration: Amal Carbs and the Fuel Tank

A place where logic, precision and cause and
effect still matter in a world gone mad.

 After the random weirdness of work, time in the garage with the old Bonneville is remarkably
straightforward and logical.  I suspect the bike was in the middle of a Captain America Easy Rider customization in the early/mid eighties when it got parked and time left it behind.  I got it from Brian's storage shipping container where it was out of the weather and raised off the ground.  I don't know where Brian got it from but I suspect it was always stored inside.  I battled with a mid-nineties Kawasaki that had been left outside back in 2014 and this much older machine is nothing like as seized, rusted and difficult to get into.

Anything that doesn't immediately loosen gets a bit of heat and then comes free without any headaches.  Not being in a rush and leaning on the spannering skills I've refreshed over the past decade is making this an enjoyable and meditative process.

The surface rust came off the tank with a bit of sanding.  I'm going to see if I can knock out the dent and then strip it all back.  I used Metal Rescue on the Honda Fireblade tank in my last project and it did a fantastic job of cleaning that unused and rust tank out.  I'll let it sit overnight and then do the power wash tomorrow and hopefully the tank'll come back to me.

The Amal carburetors on the bike are remarkably simple compared to what I've been up against before.  Last time around it was a bank of four last-generation-before-fuel-injection carbs on a '97 Honda Fireblade.  Before that it was a bank-of-four on a '94 Kawasaki GTR1000 and then another complex bank of four on an '81 Yamaha XS1100.  The old Bonnie's single Amal carb per cylinder is a simpler design from a simpler time compared to those complex Japanese four-pot carbs.

Airbox sleeves off.

Carb clean up with a fine wire brush and wd40.

Some aluminum corrosion in the bottom of the carb bowls but it cleaned out nicely.

They've been sitting for a long while, but all the hard parts look to be in good shape.

After an initial cleanup I'm going to break down each carb and clean the hard parts in a ultrasonic cleaning bath before reassembling with new gasketry from British Cycle Supply Co..

Ultrasonic bath bringing the carbs back to clean and ready to breathe for the Bonnie again.

My plan is to get the bike operational mechanically and have it going next spring having cleaned up and rust painted the frame and body.  Once it's operational I'll ride it for a season rough and get to know it before looking to a complete engine rebuild and deeper restoration of frame and body panels at a later date.

In order to get it back to rideable, these are the parts I think I'll need:

• 
  carb gasket rebuild kit x 2
  
• exhaust pipes x2
• mufflers x2
• ignition cables (and possibly some other electrics)
• headlight
• indicators
• battery
• head and sump gaskets for the motor (I intend to go in and clean things out/have a look around before I run it)

Fireblade Fountains

I finally got the carbs sorted on the Fireblade project (sense of achievement!) and when I fired it up they felt very responsive... but then a giant geyser of oily water spewed out of the valve cover exhaust pipe and hit the ceiling (!).  Never seen that before.

Rather than repeat the fountain, I put a pipe on it, ran it into a container and videoed the weirdness...

(it's a 360 video, you can move the mouse to look around - like at the oily water dripping off the ceiling)

So the fountain happened both times I ran it, and the stuff that came out looked like watery oil rather than oil with some water in it.  Next step:  drain the oil...

... which looks like water.  That's not good, and it's something I've never seen before.  Why on earth would anyone ever put water or coolant in an engine like that?

I've done head gaskets on cars before and I'm pretty familiar with the consequences of oil mixing with coolant.  It usually goes both ways (oil gets in the coolant, coolant gets in the oil, but the coolant looks brand new and the level is good.  When running there is no bubbling in the coolant overflow (usually a running engine will force gas and oil back into the coolant reservoir if there is a blown head gasket).  As amazing as this sounds, I think the idiot who owned this before me filled the engine with coolant instead of oil, but I really can't understand why.  It's either gross incompetence or he sold me a bike with a known blown engine, which is a pretty shitty thing to do.  Incompetent or nasty, not a great set of choices there.

Next up is actually putting oil in the engine and running it again.  I've got some used stuff out of the Tiger which is the right weight.  If it works, then the guy who owned this thing before me might be the dumbest human in history.  Once I've run the old synthetic out of the Tiger and confirmed everything works, I'll drain it and put some new stuff in.

My first sports bike has been a bit more baffling than the XS1100 (air cooled, nothing weird there other than the ownership) and the Concours sports tourer which had been through hell, but was owned by a guy who knew what he was doing.

The muppet who owned this bike before me will have me going top to bottom on it before I get it out on the road - I can't trust anything that was done to it.

Follow up:  the engine was full of gasoline because the petcock that portions fuel out of the gas tank had failed, causing the gasoline to run into the carbs, fill up the bowls and then dribble down the intake manifold into the cylinders, where it ran down into the engine.  This is evidently not uncommon on motorcycles because of the way they carry their fuel above the engine.  A new petcock, a carb rebuild and a couple of engine flushes and the 'Blade rides again.  Point to remember: check for leaking petcocks on older bikes!

My First Honda: Fireblade!

I've had a pretty diverse group of R&R  (repair & recover) motorcycles to date.  My first R&R bike was the '94 Kawasaki Concours ZG1000 back in 2014.  Purchased for eight hundred bucks and cut out of long grass to get it out of the field it was in, the Concours got sorted over the winter and put back on the road where it took us to Indianapolis and went on to over twenty thousand kilometres of mileage before I sold it on for what I purchased it for this past summer.

The Concours became my regular riding bike so I sold on the Ninja.  Eventually a KLX250 off road bike came into the garage, but didn't last long as I struggled to find ways to use it in Ontario: land of no fun.  That led to a too-quick purchase of a Yamaha XS1100 from an entirely dodgy kid that led me into the headaches of sorting ownership.  That experience has made me more cautious in buying used bikes.  The belief is that all motorcyclists are salt of the earth types, but that isn't my experience; shifty would be a better description.

So far I've been able to make money on my R&R projects, Shed and Buried style, but I don't make it easy on myself.  Both the Concours and the XS1100 were big, four carburetor bikes with spaghetti loads of vacuum tubes and complex wiring.  I've taken my time looking for the next project and tried to look for something simple, air cooled and single cylinder, but bikes like that don't come up often.  As the summer fades and winter approaches, it was time to commit to a new R&R project.

This 1997 Honda CBR900RR Fireblade came up on Facebook buy and sell.  I've found the local nature of Facebook's marketplace offers up interesting opportunities that you don't find on the hardened semi-pro sellers of Kijiji and Autotrader, where you are much more likely to find shady characters who sell a lot of crap.  This twenty-two year old non-running Honda got me curious enough to contact the seller in Alliston.

It turns out the bike had gotten tangled in a divorce and was then sidelined.  It was eventually used to settle debts between the estranged couple, but now it belonged to a non-rider with no mechanical experience who just wanted it gone.  Her new partner was trying to sell it for her, but with it not running he wasn't getting any calls.  A late nineties CBR in safetied, running condition was going for about $4000, he was asking $1200 for this one as is.

We exchanged a number of emails, both of us cautious as we'd both met idiots from online sales (it turns out the internet is actually full of idiots).  As we got to know each other I asked increasingly direct questions - was is repainted to hide crash damage? (no, the former owner didn't like the stickered stock look)  - why is it in this state?  (where I got the bad karma backstory this bike was unfortunately wrapped up in).  The last problem to solve was how to get it here.

During our give and take the seller offered me the bike for $1200 instead of $1300, and then said he could trailer it down to my place for $100, so I got it at asking price with a $100 delivery charge.  The bike showed up and we had a good chat and ended up being given a milk crate full of pears from his parent's farm too.  Bonus Honda pears - good deal.  This low mileage, non-runner seemed like a steal upon first look.  The paint's a bit rough, but for a 20+ year old low mileage bike, she cleaned up a treat.

I was told the bike was a non-runner due to the carbs.  As I got into the bike mechanically I figured I'd look at the fuel system as a whole rather than only looking solely at the carb since I didn't know how long it had been sitting.  I'm glad I did.  The fuel tank had a worrying amount of rust in it.  I talked to people on the Practical Sportsbike Magazine Facebook group (one of my go-to bike magazines and a great place to talk to DIY types) and got suggestions around various acid etching and chemical routes.

I went out to Canadian Tire aiming to get some industrial grade hydrochloric acid but found Metal Rescue Rust Remover, a water based environmentally friendly solution that neutralizes rust and prevents more from forming.  It also helps the tank retain its structural integrity whereas acid eats holes in it.  My first go at a motorcycle tank cleaning (I've been lucky so far and not had to deal with it) went well.  I left the chemical in the tank for about six hours before recovering it back into the bottle (it can be reused).  With the tank sorted it was time to look at the rest.

The vacuum operated fuel pump in the bottom of the tank was clogged and a mess, but it too cleaned up nicely.  With the big end of the fuel system sorted out, I turned to the carbs.

Compared to the buried in the frame carbs on the Concours and XS1100, the Honda's are a joy to access.  Having seen the mess that was the rest of the fuel system, I figured the carbs were crammed full of guck, and they were.  The only other issues seemed to be more about mechanical cack-handedness than wear.

Once on the bench I've been able to isolate some obvious problems.  I found a spring laying under the carbs on the engine case.  If you're fixing a carb it generally helps to use all the parts.  I also found that one of the choke pins were broken, so the choke was only working on three of the four carbs, and the choke cable itself wasn't attached correctly, so the choke was only moving about 2/3rds of the distance it should.  These are all things that would prevent the bike from starting properly.

Yesterday I took the float bowls off and had a look at the bottom end of the carbs.  The ethanol in modern fuel is not a good mix with older fuel systems, like carburetors.  Not only can it eat away at the rubber and gaskets in older systems not designed for it, but it can also leave varnish, and worst of all, it's a water absorber, so it can lead to corrosion in older, gravity fed systems.  If there was ever evidence of modern ethanol based fuels making a mess of a carburetor, it was here in this old Fireblade, where every carb bowl was worse off than the one before it.

Thanks to some judicious use of carb-cleaner, they cleaned up nicely, but does ethanol ever do a job on mechanical fuel delivery systems!  Fortunately, if I stick with super unleaded from most stations in Canada, it means I'm not running any in this old bike from now on.

I run super in my bikes anyway because they're very fuel efficient anyway so it doesn't cost much and, at least on the Tiger, the power commander means I can maximize power out of it.  For the Honda or any other carb fueled bike, you should be running super just to stay away from the ethanol.

Today I'm going to pull the tops of the carbs and have a look at the state of things (I'm hoping better than below) and finish cleaning them.  I'm also going to see if I can fix that broken choke pin on carb 4 or else I'm going to have to track down the part.  Bikebandit has it for $50US, but no one else seems to have one available.

There are other bits and pieces in this poorly looked after carb that are suspect.  Rather than use boot clamps to attach the carb to the engine, the muppet who owned it before me appears to have put some kind of rubber sealant on them and attempted to 'glue' them to the block.  This is stupid in all sorts of ways.  Bits of this rubber seal would deteriorate in the gasoline rich air-fuel mix and get sucked into the engine, and there is no mechanical connection ensuring the carbs are tight and leak free to the engine.  For a system that runs on vacuum, this is a disaster.

The boots have cleaned up nicely, so I also need to source some ring clamps for them.  The Honda specific ones are hard to find, but I'm hoping I can find some aircraft grade ones that are an engineering match and easier to source.  Oetiker Clamps, ironically based in Alliston where the Honda came from, do some nice, high quality options that I should be able to fit.

So much of mechanics come back to common sense.  The guy who owned this before seems to have had a startling lack of it.  I'm hoping for $1200+$500 in parts I can get this Honda humming and ride it for a year before seeing if I can double my money on it (unless we bond).  Safetied bikes of similar vintage with twice the mileage are going for four grand.  Even with all the work done so far, the bike hasn't cost me a penny in parts and I may be within spitting distance of sorting out this abused Fireblade.

Follow up:

Tops of the carbs were fiddly - the plungers are a pain to reseat properly, but I worked through them and all the top ends have been cleaned, though they were all in good shape as befitting a low mileage bike like this.  The nastiness was all in the float bowls.

I gotta say, I'm enjoying Honda engineering.  Kawasaki has a real heavy industry feel to it by comparison, though my Kawi experience is mainly on a big sport tourer and this Honda is built for one thing only... getting down the road quickly.  But this bike has an engineering elegance to it that makes it a pleasure to work on.

With the cackhanded way this bike has been worked on, there are a number of fiddly bits missing or broken. I was sourcing ring clamps (x8), a choke plunger and other odds and ends and found the price quickly creeping up.  I reached out to local bike breaking yards and only heard back from NCK in Woodstock, ON, who seem organized and on their game.  They have a donor carb in used, rust free (stored inside) condition for $250CAD.  That's within fifty bucks of where I was with buying bits and pieces and means I'd have a lot of spares I could always sell on after.  I'm going the donor carb route this week.

Oh, and Oetiker clamps got back to me and apologized for not having what I needed because (of course) the Honda's clamps are a special size and would require special manufacturing.  My quest for carb hose clamps continues.

NOTES:

One of the tricky bits of working on old bikes is getting the documentation you need to work on them accurately.  The internet is a gold mine for this.  If you're working on a late '90s Honda CBR900RR Fireblade, you'll find this handy:

1996/7 Honda CBR900RR Owner's Manual:  https://mototribu.com/constructeur/honda/1996/1000cbr/doc/revuetechnique_900rr.pdf

It has lots of good technical graphics in addition to all the specs you need.

***

I was also able to source the Haynes Manual for this bike from Fortnine on sale for only $35.  Most other places were over $40US, so finding that on sale was a good first step in this project.

At the moment I've got emails out to The Bike Yard in Caledon and Oetiker Clamps in Alliston.  With any luck I can source the bits I need and have this Honda purring even before the snow starts to fly, then I can spend the winter sorting out the other fluids and maintenance before it hits the road in the spring.

Five Years: Diversifying Motorcycle Experience and Finding Balance

After the first year on two wheels I began thinking about more challenging motorcycle projects that would diversify my experience.  Starting in year two I did my first away motorcycle ride, renting scooters and then a BMW around the southern end of Vancouver Island - that led to my first article being published in Motorcycle Mojo and gave me a lot of insight into variations in motorcycling.

In addition to pushing my riding experience in daring new directions (like riding two-up with my son on an unfamiliar bike on one of the most challenging roads in Canada), I also began looking for a bike that needed more than just regular maintenance to operate... a bike that needed me.

I discovered just such a thing toward the end of that riding season, a long dormant Kawasaki Concours that we had to cut out of the grass it was sitting in.  Something that old (twenty plus years at the time) had a lot of perished rubber on it, and when I finally got it up to temperature it also had a sizable oil leak.  The winter was spent getting a new oil cooler and lines, replacing a lot of rubber bits and otherwise getting this old warrior back on its feet again.

The Concours not only got me moving mechanically, but it also offered a real blank slate, something I've since realized is only available on well used bikes (unless you're loaded and like to pull apart new things).  I'd enjoyed the aesthetic restoration of the Ninja and was looking forward to doing the same thing on the Concours.  Getting an old bike and making it not only usable but unique looking has been one of the highlights of my motorcycling career to date, and a trend I intend to continue.  It's something that my current too-nice Tiger doesn't offer me.

The Kintsugi Concours became my go-to ride and the Ninja became my first sold bike.  It was difficult to part with something I'd developed such an emotional bond with.  I can understand why the people with the space and means hang on to every bike they buy.  Having beaten the selling a bike emotional roller coaster, I immediately went looking for another, but it took a while to finally find the right thing, and in the meantime the old Concours suddenly became less than dependable.

A KLX250 that couldn't do 100km/hr with me on it made me feel like I was overly exposed and under-powered while riding on the road, though it was a deft hand off it and gave me my first real off road experiences.  I held on to it over the winter and when there was finally a break in the never ending Canadian snow I thought this is the moment the KLX will shine, on dirty, just thawed roads - except it wouldn't start.  It was a lot easier to sell because I'd never fallen in love with it.  Getting $400 more than I bought it for didn't hurt either.

Later that summer I made my next motorcycle buying error and stumbled into an old Yamaha XS1100 sitting on the side of the road.  I ignored the three strikes against it (non-runner with no ownership being sold by a gormless kid) and purchased it anyway; I won't do that again.  I got lucky on the ownership - it was within a whisker of being a write-off and had a long and difficult history (I was the thirteenth owner!), but I was able to sell it on after sorting the ownership and just broke even.  In the process I stumbled onto a balancing act I hadn't considered before.

I love riding older bikes I wrench myself, but they aren't always ready to ride.  When the otherwise dependable Concours wasn't and my only other choice was an ancient Yamaha I'd only just freed up the brakes and carbs on, I found myself with nothing to ride as the cruelly short Canadian motorcycling season began.  I'd gambled too much on being able to keep the old bikes rolling.  With riding days so valuable in the Great White North, that wasn't a viable approach.

I still had most of the money from the Ninja sitting aside and my wise wife said to just focus on getting something newer and more dependable.  Maintaining that balance means having a riding ready bike and a project bike, and not messing up that equation.  To further complicate things, I'm a big guy so I needed a bike that fit, and my son was getting bigger every year and loved coming along, so I needed a bike that would fit us both.  Being the onerous person I am, I didn't do the obvious thing and buy a late model Japanese touring bike that runs like clockwork.

My daily rider suddenly popped up on Kijiji but it ended up being the most emotionally driven purchase yet.  Instead of a sensible five year old, low mileage Kayamonduki, I got bitten by a thirteen year old Tiger.  It was European, over budget, too old and with too many miles, but the owner was a young professional (nuclear operator!) and from the UK and we had a good, straight up chat about the bike.  I was honest about my position (the Tiger was out of my league but I loved it and wanted it), and he was straight up with his position (he was about to take it in to trade for a new Triumph at the dealership and even my lower offer was much better than he would have gotten on trade in).  I ended up feeling like I stole the bike for over a grand less than he was asking and he got more for it than he otherwise would have.  It was an emotionally driven purchase with a lot of rational oversight.

With all that good karma the Tiger has turned out to be a special thing.  I was only the third owner.  In thirteen years it had averaged less than 4000kms/year, and on two years the first owner had ridden it out to Calgary and back (seven thousand plus kilometres each time).  It had been power commandered (that had never come up in the purchasing discussions), indicating that the original owner had really fawned over this bike.  The guy I bought it off wasn't very mechanically minded and it hadn't had much in the way of regular maintenance, but then he hadn't used it much.  Within a couple of weeks I'd gotten it safetied, done all the maintenance and given it a good tuning - it has run like a top ever since.

It's an older, European bike, but fuel injection and a resurgent Triumph Motorcycles Co. using the latest manufacturing techniques means it's not a bonkers choice as a daily rider.  On the second year of ownership it fired right up after hibernating under a blanket in the garage, and it did again this year.  I've fixed some dodgy, plastic fuel connectors on the tank, changed the tires and done the fork oil and other fluids along with the chain, but other than the fuel fittings, it's all been regular maintenance.  The Tiger has been such a treat and it's such a rare thing (I've only ever seen one other) that I can't see myself letting it go.

Meanwhile the Concours became the project bike, but since I wasn't depending on it, the project took on new dimensions.  I stripped the old fairing off and ended up with a muscle bike like no other.  I've experienced some drift with this project and I think when I get it to a riding level I'll sell it with the aim to make my money back on it (shouldn't be too hard considering what I got it for).

I think the drift comes from biting off more than I can chew as far as tools I have on hand and time and a comfortable place to work.  If had welding gear handy and could do the fabrication I needed, I think I'd still be be pushing for an edgy completion to the project which has taken longer and has been more involved than I initially planned.  The heart is willing but I'm too tight money and time-wise to chase this big of a thing.  In the winter it hurts to go out in the garage and work on it and in the summer I'd rather be out riding.  Future projects might be more of a Shed and Buried/SPQR approach where I can get a bike sorted and back on its feet again, have some fun with it aesthetically and then move it on without losing any money on it.  Making enough on each one to keep me in tools and pay for the process would be the dream.

The sophomore years of motorcycling have been about pushing into more challenging riding opportunities.  From riding Arizona (another one that got published), to going to the last MotoGP race at Indianapolis to circumnavigating Great Lakes and Georgian Bay, I've gotten more and more daring and gone further afield with each season.

These years have also been about dusting off and expanding my technical skills and have seen me do everything from oil coolers to complete carburetor rebuilds.  The garage has gotten better and better in the process, though it's still bloody cold in the winter.  If I could find a solar powered heating system for the space I'd be a happy man.  If I had a heated, insulated work space about twice the size, I'd be even happier.  The other side of the coin is riding opportunities.  Living somewhere where you can't ride for 3+ months of the year isn't conducive to building saddle experience.  I'd be happier if I lived in an all year riding opportunity - or at least if I had access to such places over the winter here.

20 hours might have gotten me able to manage the basic
operations of a motorcycle - the Conestoga course was a
weekend with about 4 hours on bikes each day, then some
very tentative rides in the neighborhood got me to 20 hours.

At five years I feel like I've put a lot of time into improving my rider's craft.  I've also spent a lot of energy getting the rust off my mechanical skills.  What I most wish for the next five years is to maintain my hunger for more motorcycle experiences.  I'd like to try  a wider range of different bikes and types of riding and find a way to dig even deeper into mechanics.  This year I'm hoping to take an off-road training course.  In the future I'd love to find the money and time to take track riding, if not to pursue racing then at least to explore riding dynamics at the extreme end in a controlled environment.

If you put ten thousand hours into something you've developed a degree of expertise in it.  In each season I've tried to beat ten thousand kilometres of riding (and succeeded) before the snows fall.  Those fifty plus thousand kilometres have probably had me in the saddle for over a thousand hours and I've easily spent that again in the garage doing repairs and maintenance.  If feel like my motorcycle apprenticeship is well underway, I just need to keep finding ways to feed that expertise.

The light cover in the garage - a reminder...