At the request of the club, I wrote an article for the Vintage Japanese Motorcycle Club (VJMC) about my "Tour de Midwest" last summer on my '77 XS650D. Here it is below:
When I was 16 years old in the summer of 1970, my friend Jeff got access to a Fox mini-bike for us to ride in the local gravel pits and trails. Never previously having considered two wheeled motoring, I was completely hooked by the fun and adventure. Two weeks later, used some of my accumulated supermarket wages to buy a Yamaha trail bike and started reading the magazines and riding the road. Then I saw my first “dream” bike: Triumph Bonneville in candy apple red, with rubber knee pads on the tank, and twin chrome sausage pipes. Stunning!
Three years later was working in my summer college break as the parts man at the Yamaha shop. Drooled over the Bonneville clone that was the XS650, but felt that the RD350 was more my size. Ended up putting many thousands of miles on that little rocket, doing some drag racing and five years of club road racing (Ontario Motor Speedway, Riverside Raceway, and Willow Springs) when I moved out to California after grad school. This performance focus inexorably lead up the ladder to a ’78 GS750 and ’82 GS1100E, before taking a dip back towards maneuverability with an ’86 VF500F Interceptor, then getting it all with a ’99 R1, on which I continue to sport tour.
Then I retired and got the bug to revisit my teenage icons. First off, bought a Factory Five Roadster kit and built a ’65 Shelby AC Cobra 427SC replica, then spent three months and 16,000 miles lapping the USA last summer, thus satisfying my car guy bucket list item. This winter, it was time to do the same for the motorcycle list. So, after perusing Craig’s List for several weeks, finally found a relatively clean XS650. It was owned by a woman detective in Washington D.C. and had been recently painted in Robin’s Egg Blue. I drove down from Baltimore in my pickup truck, went for a test ride, and swallowed any residual masculine pride by purchasing my first “pretty blue” motorcycle.
It took about a month to wire brush and buff all the corrosion off the bike, then do a simple tune up (change oil and filters, adjust cam chain, adjust valves, clean and adjust the points). Also installed new chrome headlight ears, LED mini turn signals and associated flasher relay, and bar end mirrors.
At that point the bike was ready for a first ride, so off to the reservoir we went:
While my buddy PJ was painting his own Cobra replica, he offered to do my tank and side panels, so I ended up with this black beauty-hardly a full restoration but rather a functional clean-up:
Without further ado, and with only about 100 miles on the bike since I purchased it, it was time for a summer journey from Baltimore. Waypoints were to include the annual VJMC Rally at Spring Mill Park in Mitchell, Indiana; my friends Thomas and Chris in Philo, Illinois (husband and wife “stars” of a wonderful garage journal forum thread involving the restoration of a 1930’s garage
http://garagejournal.com/forum/showthread.php?t=51567&highlight=philo+illinois); 4th of July at my in-laws at their lake house in Lawrence, Kansas where I would meet up with my wife Constance and 20 year old son Chris; friends Mark and Gloria, who recently moved from Baltimore to Joplin, Missouri; the AMA Vintage Motorcycle weekend at Mid-Ohio Raceway; and finally the return leg to Baltimore. So, my bags were packed and I was ready to go:
One of my trip goals was to avoid boring interstates when possible, so the first leg of the journey required a transit to Winchester Virginia in order to pick up the gorgeous route 50 West. This great road traverses the Appalachians and meanders through diverse settings of small towns, forests, large towns, mountain switchbacks, and farmland, before becoming the interstate like “Appalachian Highway”. During this first day, I noticed that oil was starting to cover the bottom of the engine and frame, the inside of the megaphone exhausts, and laying a stripe on the left edge of the rear tire. So, I purchased a quart of motorcycle friendly oil at one of the NAPA stores, and topped up at every gas stop (about a 120 mile range for 3 gallons of gas, leaving a comfortable reserve and only a semi-painful butt). Searching for a Yamaha dealer for a replacement countershaft seal (my own diagnosis), ended up in Chillicothe, Ohio for the evening. The next morning, headed for Cincinnati where I eventually found an old school dealership with architectural character and a good supply of new old parts (Western Hills). Got the countershaft seal replaced while I waited, and was on my way to Mitchell in just a few hours. There still appeared to be leak coming from a missing tachometer cable securing bolt, so purchased some RTV with which to plug it up later in the day, which appeared to stop that leak.
The VJMC rally at Spring Mill Park was a blast. Tons of bikes, and since this was my first vintage bike rally, saw many of my 60s and 70s icons for the first time since back in the day. Great people, nice rides in the country, good food and drink at the dinners and after dinner hang-outs on the lodge’s back patio.
Sunday morning involved a 200 mile back country ride up to Philo Illinois. Thomas is a recently retired international airline pilot, who over the last decade restored a 1930’s country garage that he used to frequent as a child. I can’t recommend his previously referenced garage journal thread too highly. It’s one of the neatest web threads I’ve had the pleasure to read. Thomas and Chris hosted me for an afternoon during last summer’s “Tour de USA” in my Cobra, and we met up again a month later at the Road America Vintage Car races. During my morning ride to their house I noticed some low frequency vibration when I stopped for gas, and upon riding from house to shop upon arrival in Philo, heard some ominous squealing (metal on metal like a failed bearing surface?). Uh oh! I normally ride with ear buds playing iPhone music and narrated map directions, so have no idea how long that squealing had been going on. In the end, I just kept riding the bike, the squealing continued to varying degrees, and the bike got me home just fine. Will have to tear the bike down in the fall (always the plan) and see what I see.
Thomas and I drove up to Champaign Illinois to check out the final day of the annual Bloomington Gold Corvette gathering. It was slightly interesting to be able to see all the generations of the corvette at one venue. It appears that the availability of the new C7 has killed the resale value of the prior generation C6, as tons of them were available at fire sale prices. Got a short test ride in a C7, sampling the outstanding performance, but was a little claustrophobic regarding the lack of visibility from the driver’s seat. After spending the late afternoon chatting on the porch and visiting the shop, had a nice sleep in a 100+ year old house.
Woke up to rain. We looked at the radar weather map and waited until it looked like there was a window wherein I could miss the oncoming storm by shooting 50 miles south to route 70 for a 450 mile run out to Kansas. Wrong! About two minutes after leaving Thomas and Chris, the skies opened up. The worst storm I’ve ever ridden through. Torrential downpour and constant lightning strikes all around me. Flat farmland, limited visibility, and the cars and trucks were running 4-way flashers. I didn’t want to risk pulling over and getting rear ended, but just wanted to ride south into some sunshine. About an hour and a half later I got my wish and exited out from under the front into light overcast and then bright sunshine. My outer surfaces dried off in minutes, and even the wet socks within my boots were dry within an hour. Then came the most uncomfortable 8 hours of the trip, droning across route 70 in 95 degree heat, stopping periodically for gas, hydration, and oil top off.
It was great to arrive at the lake house and be welcomed by my wife, son, and myriads of in-laws. The dive into the cool lake after hours of vibration and baking as I rode into the sun was one of life’s singular pleasures!
I spent the week replacing the dead battery, visiting the hardware store for various missing bolts (that I had neglected to notice during my mini-restoration), adjusting the chain, and cleaning the bike of dead bugs and accumulated surface oil. As a family, we boated, water skied, watched fireworks, spent a day at a water park, and did our annual bonding.
Then it was off for another short 200 mile ride down to Joplin, to visit a fellow Cobra owner who had moved there from Baltimore. Mark and Gloria found a great home in a golf course community for a very reasonable price, compared to back home. Turns out that Missouri is a far more retiree friendly Place than Maryland (big surprise, that-not!).
PICs:
1. The bike after mini restoration
2. "My bags are packed and I'm ready to go..."
3. Back home and ready to get comfy!