Electric Motorcycles.........Oh Goody

Is there just no escaping the "greening" of America!? From our "Community Organizer in Chief" to the maniacal recycling eco-thug brats of Cub Scout troop local 9, it seems that everyone is out to "modify" my behavior when it comes to carrying out their environmental jihad to save this great big blue orb from.......well, from me....and you. Jeez.......people, can we just give it a rest?

The Zero.......sexy huh?

Apparently not..........if the "we know what's best for you crowd" gets their way (and enough fat government grants to fund the madness) electric motorcycles will be coming to an outlet near you, and soon. Oh joy. Yup, companies like Zero (could they be referring to my interest in their product I wonder?) and Brammo are busily toiling away in a selfless quest to break our "addiction" to oil and the inherent evils of internal combustion. Really?

Before we examine the dubious benefits of electrified two wheeled transport, may I just take a moment to reflect on the utter idiocy of that whole "addicted to oil" argument that human hating lefties, and their handmaidens in the lamestream media feel compelled to beat us over the head with? Fact is, all modern economies are petroleum based, oil is the lifeblood of the world as we know it........nearly all technological advances of the last hundred or so years, our standard of living, individual liberty, even our very personal health depends in no small measure to the availability of cheap (relatively) and abundant energy.........energy in the form of oil. Do we say humans are "addicted" to food, water, and shelter? Of course not, they are simply fundamental elements critical to our survival........as is oil fundamental to our "economic survival" for the foreseeable future. Wishing it otherwise won't make it so, sorry Sunshine.

 Besides, where are we gonna get all this wonderful "clean" go juice anyway? Think about it, we've got a president and CON-gress that couldn't organize panic on a sinking submarine in charge of formulating our nations "energy policy". The result so far? No new oil, no new natural gas, no new coal, and no new nukes. Let's see, that leaves us with bovine flatulence, left-over organic cooking oil, sun-light and warm breezes. Perfect. All of those aforementioned "green alternatives" account for less than 10% of the nations total energy grid. And the best minds on the planet say that it won't be possible to get that number above 25% in the next twenty years, regardless of policy or technical breakthroughs. Groovy.........guess we'll be burning a lot of candles in the meantime (if it's not a Spare the Air Day of course). There isn't a lack of oil, there's a lack of will. Are there any grown-ups left in DC?

Transformers................get it, Transformers!?

Oh, and just wait until the backpack and flip flop set realize that the feds are gonna have to make up all that lost gas tax revenue somewhere..........hmmm, a kilowatt/hr tax maybe, how about a miles driven tax (CBO's already on that one), or perhaps a "plug-in" surcharge..........that sounds nifty. Perfect "motivation" for getting all us sheep on those bullet trains to Fresno don't ya know? Remember, it's not about the environment at all......it's about the good of the collective trumping the rights and liberty of the individual. I'm just saying..............carbon credits anyone??

But what about electric motorcycles? What indeed. The fundamental issues with electric bikes is the same one that has plagued cars for years, and why you're not driving one right now.........limited range, charging time and power. Given the current state of battery technology you can either have power (and to be honest, electric motors are very efficient in terms of delivering gobs of instant power) or range, but not both. Want maximum top end? You're only gonna get twenty minutes of run time. Want to ride for three hours? Well then prepare for a top speed limited to about 20mph. It's just the way it is..........and more so given the design imperatives of a motorcycle........there's only so much in the way of battery weight that's practical. Which brings us to charging.........how many of us are going to want to ride for 30 minutes, only to have to spend the next two hours charging the bike? Yeah, I thought so.

Damn........

The only environment where I can see current technology having even a remote chance of success would be in a highly dense urban setting. Short trips, lots of time to charge........if you can actually find a charging station that is (and no anarchist punk is gonna make it his life mission to snip all those charging station cords, no way.......heh, heh, heh). Scooters.........that's your motorbike EV of the future. Maybe.

As for larger machines.........say an electric Harley Dyna, I dunno. As Yogi Berra said, "prediction is hard, especially about the future". I for one have very little interest riding a machine that could have been built by Kitchen Aid......A proper motorcycle should possess just a bit more character than say, my fridge.

I want the clatter of valves, the rhythmic slamming of pistons, the reassuring cadence of a V-Twin exhaust burbling at idle.........not the soulless whine of a blender. I want the sensory overload that is four stroke internal combustion........suck, squeeze, bang, blow.......just as God intended. Keep the appliances in the home........not on the open road. Let's just hope that if the enviro-nazis get their way, and it's electric bikes for all, Apple will come up with a "moto-sounds app" so I can at least still hear what a motorcycle used to sound like..........let's see, here's a good one; Harley Dyna, straight pipes............dammit the future sucks...........

Sturgis By The Numbers....And Some Random Stuff

Total number of miles ridden - 3,341 (this is my mileage, "door to door", other folks in the group would have slightly different totals)

Number of states visited - 6 (Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, and South Dakota)

Number of times the group (or members of the group) were pulled over by the law - 2

Quarts of oil burned on the trip - 0! (Take that all you Harley Haters......that includes a nearly twenty year old machine too!)

The number of times the group had to breakout the rain gear - 0 (it was a charmed trip, no doubt)

Total number insects sacrificed by our chrome and steel - 376,987 (this is only an estimate)

Motorcycle accidents witnessed - 1 ( the dude survived)

Random Thoughts -

"As much as the Harley crowd takes flak for being "posers" (after twenty years in the business I can tell you that Harley riders don't have a monopoly on that charge), once you get waaaaaay out on the open highway, the vast majority of the machines you see are indeed Harley-Davidsons; apparently there's a fair number of "real riders" among the Harley fraternity."

"Once you get within about a 200 miles radius of Sturgis, the whole "rider wave" thing goes out the window. It's not that folks don't want to throw a welcome wave to their fellow riders..........it's just that there are too damn many, your hand would never be on the bar.

"When coming into Sturgis always avoid exit 32, instead head down to the Deadwood cutoff (I think it's exit 30) there's far less traffic. And the first chance you get bear left, and try to use Williams or Park street, plenty of parking and no traffic."

" A good number of folks that attend the Rally are new or "low mileage" riders.......keep your head on a swivel, cars aren't your only concern."

Uh oh, looks like Nate got busted

"If you look like a Hollywood stylist put together your "biker duds", you'll probably never be mistaken for the real deal"

"Chaps...........for cold weather folks, if the mercury is over, say 65, leave them in the saddle bags."

"It's super cool that many of the local hotels/motels provide towels to wipe down bikes.........not cool that some are poly blends (only use 100% cotton), very bad for the finish."

"Score a shirt from Pee Wee's.........trust me, way better than the tons of "official" souvenir crap you'll find on Main Street."

Stunting Sporty, don't see that everyday

"Bike Week is in Daytona, Sturgis is a Rally...........there is no Sturgis "Bike Week"..........better toss that t-shirt!"

"I'll just never get that whole "Boss Hoss" thing...........a V-8, OK, so what."

"Hands down the best breakfast of the trip was had at "The Cowpoke Cafe" in Lovelock, if you're going through town, stop in and say hi to Rosa."

"If you have any interest in American Firearms, the Buffalo Bill Museum in Cody is a must.........give yourself some time."

"The Full Throttle Bar has some of the best bartenders in town, forget the fact that they're all incredibly hot, they're friendly too!"

Mark, Nate, Vince, JP, and Hank....until next time!

"There are few experiences in life that can rival a 12 day road trip with close friends..........life is short, round up your buds and get out and ride. I'm glad I did, thanks guys.........especially Vince, you made it happen."

Sturgis Or Die, Day Twelve....Home Again

Last day. It's a hard admission to make, I don't want this thing to be over, to be done, not just yet. The five of us have jelled, we're a unit, we ride as one, and we're riding well, we're ready for whatever the road and circumstance throw at us. When we're not riding we're laughing, or eating......both activities that a sane person can't really get enough of, and I don't want to give that up.  But the cold truth is....last day, time to ride home, back to our separate, "real world" lives. It's sunny, perfect really, but not my mood. I'm gonna miss all of this. Riding everyday, new people, new sights, new adventures........we were explorers, men on the move. Damn.

We've got some miles to throw down, nearly 500, so there's no time for a leisurely breakfast, it's 7:30am and we're firing up the machines, Nate gives JP a shove and the Dyna chugs to life, they got this bump start thing down! We pull out into the cool, high desert sun, it's not blazing yet, but it will be.

Nothing fancy today, it's pretty much highway 80 straight west across Nevada, up and over Donner Pass, down through Sacramento.....homeward bound. No long stops. We cruise along at about 80mph, there's little traffic and we only see one trooper. Gas and go. Breakfast today is in Winnemucca, a sort of casino/diner joint. Local kids are playing around the entrance while their parents throw down nickels and quarters hoping for the "big" payoff. No beautiful people here, the place is a last chance, last hope for folks without much of either. It could be me, but there's something just a little bit sad about the whole scene. We walk into the diner, friendly servers, lots of food....pretty good too. A hostess, probably a babe during the Kennedy administration, strode up and asked, ".....whose jacket is that on that Harley?" We look through the window, it's JP's. "You know, kids here are just like kids anywhere". We get the message, JP walks outside and removes the temptation. Nice lady.

I have to say that throughout our odyssey I was struck by the number of people, and not just fellow riders, that admonished us to "be sure and ride safe". Genuine concern, it was nice, and it happened a lot. No sideways glances, no disapproving stares.........for the most part the fact we were bikers started folks talking, our motorcycles initiated smiles, thumbs up and approving nods. We were, for a brief period of time the embodiment of freedom and adventure, and people recognized it. It was humbling and very cool, all at once.

Finishing our last real meal together, maybe we take just a bit more time, tell just one more story, laugh about something dumb one of us did. Last day kind of stuff. The check comes.....one for each, we finally got that down, only took ten days! Fueled up, body and bikes, we roar west. Strong crosswinds make themselves felt all the way to Reno, but we're seasoned high mileage veterans now, no big deal. We're making good time. Good I guess.

Vince, JP, Nate, and Mark....last stop

It's "Hot August Nights" time in Reno, there's hot rods everywhere, I'm gonna have to come up and check this out sometime. We decide to pull into Reno Harley Davidson to have a chat with their techs, just to see what they thought about the Dyna's current "issues". Good chance for a cold soda too, and a gander at the bikes, never a bad thing. Their service manager tells us what we already know, it'll take hours to diagnose the "stumbling" problem, and even if they can, they aren't going to have the parts to fix it (the Dyna's almost 20 years old fercrissakes). If we wanna get home today we're gonna have to steal a line from Vince's favorite biker comedy and "just ride!" (the name of the movie has been deliberately omitted by the author simply because I hate it, so there!). So it's gloved fingers crossed and west we go......

We gas up in Boomtown before we begin the accent up the pass. Only 20 miles to the summit, if JP can keep the Harley moving, we're in the clear. We decide on a more mellow pace, no more than 65, we don't want to push our luck, or the Dyna. I take point, Nate on my six, Vince and Mark flank the boy. We're a unit now.

The miles click off, JP stays fixed in the rearview, so far so good. Not much farther, Donner Lake to the left, we're gonna make it, no "mechanicals" this trip! Up and over the summit, just an easy roll home now. It's cool at this altitude, feels great. It'll heat up again soon as we descend into the foothills. In a day filled with "lasts", we stop in Auburn for one last gas stop. This will be the final time of the trip that we'll be able to talk to each other (OK, Vince and I have the Chatterboxes, but you get the idea), share a laugh, just hang out. We have some cold drinks, snap a group pic, and it's time to go. Handshakes won't do, it's hugs all around, it's been a hell of a trip, better than any of us (including the Sturgis Vets in our group) had imagined. The weather, the roads, the bikes, the scenery, Sturgis.........it was all perfect. An adventure of a lifetime.........but not quite done yet.

Nate's Road Glide front and center

Still some miles to under our wheels. Head west on 80 through Roseville, skirt the edges of Sacramento. Mark stays on 80 as the rest of us turn south on "the five", he's heading to Winters. It's funny what a trip like this can reveal about others and ourselves. I've know Mark for years, well over twenty to be honest, and yet I had no idea about his encyclopedic knowledge of western history, but it sure enlightened our journey. Funny what you learn.....

Down 5 we go, boring, lots of traffic, smells like cow shit......I could be done with this. Exit onto highway 12, straight shot to Rio Vista, then left on 160, we're nearly there. It's super windy, it's the delta, welcome home. Vince and I talk a bit, I tell him what a great job he did in planning the route, hell, he planned the whole adventure! Great job my friend, great job. Over the Antioch bridge, I take the Brentwood exit, so does Nate, he's got some friends to see. One last glance over my left shoulder, Vince and JP motor pass and wave, on to Pittsburg and home.

I make my way through town, turn down my street and park in front of the house, and just like that it's done. Over 3,341 miles in 12 days, an adventure of a lifetime with four of the finest people a guy could ever know. Last day? No way, we're gonna do this again...........there's no "last" about it!!!

Maybe It Is Just A Club Afterall

Spend enough time in the Harley world and the topic of "motorcycle gangs" or more correctly, clubs is bound to come up. From cheesy B-movies (Quentin Tarantino's "Hell Ride" being a notably exception to a generally awful genre......it's deliberately campy, sexy, and it works, put it in the queue), the latest best selling "undercover" expose', high profile busts, rival club wars, to the local charity poker run, motorcycle clubs have played an integral role in American biker culture for over sixty years.



I'm thinking this is one bike you'd want to leave alone

 Whether many of us want to admit it or not, the mere sight of "outlaw" bikers is enough to evoke a multitude of sometimes conflicting emotions; fear, envy, loathing, and if we're really honest, on occasion, a desire to tell the man to #&$ off and join up ourselves. And why not? The "outlaw" biker is free, living life on his terms...........they don't bother conforming to the norms and conventions of the typical suburban square. They make their own rules........taking what they want, when they want, the rest of us be damned.

Respect. The "outlaw" biker's very existence demands it.........and we give it, if for no other reason than we know they won't abide by our overly PC notions of civility, so we may just be in for some trouble if we don't. Had one too many at the local watering hole, and want to test your sand.......while I wouldn't advise it, the gents with the colors over in the corner will oblige you every time. It's a very grown up version of the school playground, only these guys never back down. Show them respect, and you'll get it. Stay out of their business (and trust me, they're so not interested in the slightest in yours), and they'll stay clear of yours. It's as simple as that.

But here's the deal, where does a club end and a criminal gang begin? Are all club members, regardless of their individual records (and more often lack thereof) worthy of seemingly endless local and federal investigations, harassment,  and surveillance merely because they chose to join an organization a bit less benign than the Kiwanis  I'm not so sure. And I'll tell you why.
Simply put, the case against the clubs just doesn't add up for me, at least not all of it. For starters, if one were going to consistently engage in act of criminality, why wear a "uniform" that tells John Law just exactly who you are? Typical crooks like to be a bit more stealthy don't ya think? I can't recall members of the Mafia sporting "La Cosa Nostra" stick pins, or seeing them meeting in clubhouses with a giant logo over the door. I'm just saying. If our "outlaw" friends are all really criminals, they must not be too bright, which brings me to my next point.

Club members strolling on Virginia St. during Street Vibrations

Drug Money. Read any article about motorcycle "gangs" and inevitably you'll come across statistics of the amount of drug activity, prostitution, and extortion rackets they control, the figures are always in the tens of millions of dollars. In my home state of California, the biker clubs are high profile targets....... it's claimed that the clubs control over 75% of the meth trade! Wow, that seems like a lot (warning, on the topic of drugs, your humble scribe is waaay out of his depth, having never done any drug stronger than Advil), at least it would surely bring the club a ton of dough. Right!?

It doesn't seem so. During my years in the motorcycle business, I've had the opportunity to work and interact with more than a few members of the various clubs, both as customers of the business, and as promotional partners for various events. And here's the shocker, I've yet to meet a rich club member, as a matter of fact, all the ones I know have day jobs, some really difficult jobs, some well paying, but mostly blue collar. Never seen one driving a Bentley, none that I know live in tony neighborhoods, and most don't even have high dollar custom Harleys. That just doesn't conform to my ideal of drug kingpins that are knocking down millions of dollars a month!? Where's the beef...........when you're pulling down big money, it shows.......especially in the world of the average drug dealer. I know, I've seen Scarface, come on, not even a mansion!?

Lastly, it seems that no matter how extensive (which is code for damn, that cost the taxpayers a ton!) and sexy the undercover sting, it never really nets anything. You know, like actual convictions. A few guys get carted off to the joint, spend the night and are back out on the street.....waste of dough. Well, except for the book or movie deal the undercover cops manage to score, but that's another story. The fact is that in the vast majority of cases, the allegations are never proven out......unlike in other areas of organized crime investigations.

Boozefighters boogie at the Full Throttle

So what's the story, are all club members just misunderstood choir boys relentlessly hassled by the man? Hardly. No doubt there are individual members that do their share of criminal deeds, and let's face it, club culture is gonna be much more tolerant of such shenanigans.....these guys are not saints, and they'll tell you so. I'm just saying that the high visibility of the average club makes them by far an easier target for law enforcement "attention", more than their actual "crimes" would warrant. If this weren't the case, I think we'd see far more of the aforementioned stings resulting in major jail time.........seems logical.

Looks like the "truth' is once again occupying the middle of the road along with that white line and dead skunk. For the record, the average club member is one bad hombre, best to steer clear. You and I, no matter how romantic it may seem, will never be club member, and that's for the best. The very fact we're not means it wasn't the life for us.........and that's fine. But what it doesn't mean is that all those folks that willingly choose the "outlaw" biker lifestyle and join a club are criminals. Not by a long shot. Sometimes a club really is just a club...........

Sturgis Or Die, Day Eleven

By the looks of the parking lot and the bikes (with the exception of mine.....it was covered this time!) it had rained quite a bit overnight. The sky is grey, but the forecast isn't calling for any rain, which is a good thing because we've got some miles to do today (420 to be exact) and some high mountain passes to climb. But first thing first as they say. Need food.

With Vince still in full hibernation mode, I struck out with the lads to score some grub. Nothing fancy, just something to get us going until lunch, last nights fantastic Mexican food feast was still keeping any serious hunger pangs at bay. Just a snack. We stop by the Harley Shop to score a cool "Jackson" t-shirt. The joint was staffed by an amazing array of young lovelies…….coincidence, I think not, and don’t care. Only wish I had my camera handy!

Doughnuts, that would be good.....the lads stop at a Taco Bell (no breakfast burrito for me.....not enough Zantac left), I hit a gas station convenience store for some tasty powdered doughnut gems.......sweet. I also pick up a travel mug that Vince had spied the night before..........he's been adding to his collection throughout the trip. Hey, everybody's got to collect something right!?

Our crew, plus one, at a gas stop somewhere in Utah

Walking back to the hotel, looking at the surrounding mountains, clomping along the wooden sidewalks, catching the friendly waves of locals and tourists alike, I'm thinking this is a place I have to get back to for a more lengthy "look see". Jackson is an amazing place, might even be a place where one could move...........just maybe. Oh, and in case you were as confused as I was; "Jackson Hole" refers to the surrounding area, whereas, "Jackson" just refers to the town itself. There, just thought you should know. Whatever the name, I'll be back, there's no doubt about that.

Returning to the hotel, Vince and Mark are loading up their motorcycles, it's just about time to hit the road. The grey is giving way to more sun, and the temperature is cool, this promises to be a good day. we'll be long gone by the time the predicted afternoon thunderstorms appear. Ready to go, Nate gives JP's Dyna a push, it fires right up. It seems that the new battery didn't fully cure the machines starting issues....something in the starter itself is hurting. But no worries, as long as Nate's legs hold out we're all good.

We head west on highway 22 and over Teton Pass (8,431 ft summit). It's an amazing road with plenty of breathtaking vistas, sheer cliffs and forest........some of the grades are 10%! On the lower portions of the pass, on both the east and west side are some of the most amazing homes I've ever seen.............guess other folks have found out what a fantastic corner of the world this Jackson Wyoming place is.....damn. We cruise along drinking in the scene as it unfolds curve to curve.

The bikes won't get much rest today....too many miles to cover

Dropping into Idaho the temperatures begin to rise, off come the jackets, on go the vests, some opt for just a t-shirt. Our luck with the weather gods continues! Our luck with the mechanical gods, is giving us just a bit of a test however. On a gradual upgrade along highway 30 just west of American Falls, JP's machine begins to lose power and bog. My Chatterbox squawks a warning from Vince, a quick glance in the rearview confirms it, headlights pulling off to the side of the road. Dammit!

Nate and I are stopped about a mile ahead of JP, Mark and Vince, with no way to turn around we wait. I can hear Vince talking to JP trying to diagnose the issue with the nearly twenty year old Harley. "It just started bogging out" was JP's response. There's not much we can do here, we need to get the thing moving and see if we can get it looked at in town......any town. Staying cool and calm Vince tells JP we're gonna have to do the best we can and "ride around the problem" until (and if) we can get it repaired. Time to suck it up. A quick push and the Lowrider fires up, we're back on the road...........but nervous, this is no place for a serious mechanical. JP rises to the occasion and keeps the bike moving, heading west.

JP hoping that the Dyna goes the distance

Next gas stop; Rupert, Idaho. Rupert is a special place for us,  it's the home of one Cal Rayborn II (yeah, the son of THAT Cal Rayborn). Cal raced for us years back, and gave us lots of wins and championships at Sears Point Raceway in the AFM Formula Pacific series. Too bad we won't have time to look him up. Gotta figure out what's up with JP's machine. Pulling into a gas station we assess the situation.

Taking a closer look we find that the petcock appears to be cracked, and is leaking a fair amount of fuel. This could be the problem........at least it's a problem we can deal with. A quick application of some Super Glue, fingers crossed, we think we may have saved the day. Time and miles will tell. Heading west we see what could be the first serious weather threat of the entire trip. Fairly active cells are developing with lots of lightening and precipitation. We might just have to break out the raingear after all.

By the time we hit Twin Falls, it's looking really grim.......the good news? JP's bike is keeping pace and running well......all hale Super Glue!! We're on the edge of a thunderstorm and taking some hits.....hail hurts when you're wearing fingerless gloves! Off to the south, and not too far away, it's pouring waterfalls of rain....same to the north, but the road directly ahead is eerily free of serious downpours....charmed we are. A few miles more and we turn south on 93 at Twin Falls, across the Snake River Gorge.....wow is that thing deep.......is that a golf course down there!? And what's with the wind sock on the bridge.......just then we get smacked with a sucker punch of cross wind....guess that's why.

All the while the weather is clearing and we remain dry. JP's Harley hasn't missed a beat. It's all good. Motoring south on 93 we cut a swath through the high desert of northern Nevada.......sage brush, rock and sand for as far as the eye can see. It's desolate and beautiful, and with the exception of Jackpot, a border town just south of the Idaho state line, there's very little evidence of civilization. We "two lane" it all the way to Wells, where we hook up with highway 80 for the short hop to Elko. It's been a great day of riding; amazing scenery, some fun roads, and just a little drama. One more to go and we're home.........

It's Time To Give Something Back.....Earthquake Relief For Japan

Any of us that have had the privilege of toiling in the motorcycle industry (yeah, like that's really work, but I won't tell if you won't) know the debt we owe the Japanese people...........quite simply, if it were not for the "Big Four" (Honda, Yamaha, Suzuki, and Kawasaki) the powersports industry in the U.S.A. would not exist as we know it today. From technical innovation to mainstreaming the sport of motorcycling the Japanese have been at the forefront.

Even if you've never thrown a leg over a machine from the land of the rising sun, they've influenced your ride (and most likely for the better) in some form or fashion. Your passion for motorcycling (yes, that means you too, Harley-Davidson riding badass), has been fueled by the good folks in Japan, and now they're hurting.

We've all seen the horrific images of devastation; massive debris fields, upended cars and homes, scores of newly homeless victims and the lurking threat of a smoldering nuclear power plant. It's easy to be overwhelmed, or worse yet desensitized by the none-stop news feed. But the fact is, the Japanese people need our help, and the help of the world (Japan's status as a first world country does not preclude the necessity of outside assistance..........think Katrina)

My suggestion would be to give what you can to the American Redcross (www.redcross.org/JapanEarthquake) or Samaritans Purse (www.samaritanspurse.org) , as they have been an active partners in organizing relief since the quake struck. You can be absolutely confident that your money will go where it should and do the most good. And the next time you ride, you'll feel just a little bit more connected to brothers you never thought you had..........

Bug Off, It's Spring Baby!

Moments before impact

Ahhh the telltale signs of spring; chirping birds, income taxes, new Real Housewives of the OC episodes, trying to remember where the gym is.........and bugs, &%$# bugs!! Apologies up front to all you Chromies still mired in snow, dealing with early flooding, and coping with freezing temperatures........but you bought your ticket, you knew what you were getting into so deal. It's sunny out here on the left coast ("left coast"....how appropriate is that!?) and we're riding my friends.......well, actually, we never stopped, but I don't want to rub it in...........heh, heh, heh.

Insects, bugs, the flotsam and jetsam of the air, big liquidy puss sacks of splatter and rock hard exoskeleton armoured mini missiles, winged suicide angels..........infinite in number, less intent on survival than your average jihadist, they lurk just out of sight, hovering in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to grimly carry out their singular "mission" to extinguish their pathetic, fleeting existence just that much sooner. Preferred method of execution?

Death by motorcycle.........whether they off themselves on your faceshield, jacket, or bike........it really doesn't matter, they'll find you, and when they do, they'll pull you into their macabre dance of doom.......we're all powerless against their fanatical fatal onslaught. We can only hope to deal with the grim aftermath as best we can.

A tad dramatic? Yeah, maybe, but cut me some twine here, how else am I gonna get you to slog through a missive about bug removal........really, how? In my former life as motorcycle industry insider (ah, those were the days.........) I had the opportunity to sample all sorts of goodies; from jackets to boots, chains to communicators, as well as, all manner of chemical and potion that passed itself off as "cleaners". Some of these products you've heard of, others never made the light of day, and usually for good reason.

I'm happy to report that most "over-the-counter" cleaners on the market do a reasonable job of living up to their claims, and I have no doubt that all of you have a particular favorite that has served you well over the years and miles. But when it comes to bug gut removal, yours truly has found one remedy that performs far better than all the rest..........bar none.

Wanna know just what that magic potion is...........wait for it, wait for it.......hot water, and a 100% cotton towel. Yup, that's it, what, you were expecting some tiger blood and sulphuric acid elixir!? Look the fact is that nothing does a better job of clearing insect remains from your machine than hot/warm water (works even better when the bugs have had a chance to petrify before removal), just dip one end of the towel in the water, rub of the bug juice, and wipe dry. Done. No harm to the surface, painted, chrome or otherwise, which can not always be said of chemically based cleaners.

Don't ask me why, but the H2O method is less prone to streaking and really buffs up well on chrome, while common cleaners and waxes take much more effort to ensure they don't spot or streak. Just try it, and you'll see..........and if you employ my decidedly low tech (and so very "green", upon completing the task simply use the remaining liquid to water the foliage, you're feeling better about yourself already, huh!?) you'll be shocked by the results..........eww, starting to sound a little "infomercially", time to go.

So get out there and ride dammit, and the next time you're faced with buffing up the "killing fields" that is the front of your motorcycle, you'll know what to do..........no thanks necessary, just doing my job. Oh, one last thing, always resist the temptation to wipe a fresh kill from your faceshield while riding, I can assure you that whatever visual impairment you're suffering will be tripled by your efforts......trust me on this one..........