Good Ear Plugs

I can't stand the scream of wind past my motorcycle helmet so I wear earplugs when I'm riding.

I've tried a dozen kinds of earplugs and the ones I like best are "Western Safety" brand Disposable Earplugs, item 66217 from Harbor Freight. They cost 99 cents for three pairs.

My ear canals are long and narrow so I need long, narrow foam plugs that compress to a very thin diameter. I also need a material that doesn't irritate my ear canals. These long, thin. orange plugs do the trick.

What a ride!

I just took The Nun out for her first cruise after the 12K mile servicing. She did fine.

The odometer really only reads 11700+ but we just had some un-ride-able weather, making it a good time for The Nun to be laid up. And I wanted plenty of time after the 12K to make sure everything's cooking OK before the warranty is up in April. Two months should be enough time.

So far it looks like Moto Europa did a good job. The Nun runs the same as she did before the service.

It sure felt good being back in the saddle after almost two weeks. I was having some serious withdrawal symptoms but I got through it by reading motorcycle magazines and hanging out at the Triumph forum.

Tomorrow I get to ride some more. In January! I love St. Louis.

The end of the story about when my first motorcycle was stolen.

I'm beginning with the end of the story because It's the most interesting part. It includes the one and only time I've ever ridden on a Harley Davidson motorcycle.

I was 20. Thanks to one criminal, two stupid college kids and a substantial dose of bad luck, I found myself standing on a highway interchange clover-leaf on the outskirts of Chicago. It was sunny with temps in the high 90s, F. I was already sunburned and windburned from a long ride off-course in the college kids' convertible. And I had mild battery acid burns all over my lap from the new leaky battery I'd brought for the missing motorcycle. The acid destroyed the fabric of my jeans and they were slowly coming apart as I stood in the hot sun, futilely trying to hitch-hike the hell out of there.

Passersby honked and made faces and threw drink cups and yelled nasty things at me for a couple of hours. When I started seeing stars and feeling lightheaded I decided I needed a break. I walked to a gas station on the service road to enjoy some air conditioning. The attendant said "I thought you were going to die out there. I was about to come out and tell you to come in and get out of the sun for awhile." He got me a chair and tried to give me my cold drink free. I guess I looked as bad as I felt.

"Where's your bike?" he asked, pointing to the beat up white 3/4 helmet I was still carrying for no good reason. I told him the story up to the point where he joined it. I don't remember his name or what he looked like, but I'll never forget his kindness.

Somewhat refreshed, I returned to my spot on the clover-leaf and stuck out my thumb. A very short while later an angel from hell saved me. A big, hairy, bearded, Harley hardtail chopper riding biker pulled his noisy hog over. We had to yell to converse over the din of his machine. He asked me what happened to my bike. Stolen, I said. He asked me what kind it was.

I don't remember what I answered. It occured to me to lie, but I don't remember if I did. The stolen bike was a 250 Honda Dream, one of the least cool motorcycles ever built.

He told me to get on. I hastily buckled on my helmet and hopped onto the tiny passenger pad on his bobbed fender. Only one of my feet was on a passenger peg when he popped the clutch. I had no choice but to hold onto his big belly to keep from flying off. He accelerated as quickly as the old hog could do and soon his long, somewhat greasy hair was slapping me in the face. He reeked of masculinity; not a scent I'm fond of. It was not a comfortable ride. He saved my life.

About an hour later he dropped me off at a road house and then turned around and disappeared back down the way we came. I wonder how far he went out of his way to help me.

I had a pee, a burger and some coffee. When I was ready to leave, a rider asked me what I was riding. I told him my sad tale. He said he was breaking in his new Honda 750 and wouldn't mind taking me a little way in the direction I was going. He took me more than a little way.

I hopped off the Honda many miles later and the rider turned back. I think he was still in sight when a Moto Guzzi Super Sport stopped. This fellow lived a little farther down the road  than where I lived. He dropped me off at my door.

I had hitched from St. Louis to Indianapolis without a problem, but then found that my motorcycle had been stolen. I tried hitching back but one thing after another went incredibly wrong during the next 20 hours, culminating in my desperate situation on a Chicagoland clover-leaf.

Then my luck changed, and boy did it change. And now you know why I always smile and wave at chopper-riding bikers, even if they're too cool to wave back. I'm not sure if they're my brothers, but they're at least my cousins.

My addiction.

Hello.
My name is Nunrider.
And I'm a motorcycle junkie.

I had a life before I bought my Bonneville. I had a vocation, avocations, hobbies and pastimes. Now all I do is ride my motorcycle or think about riding my motorcycle. Motorcycling has ruined my life.

That's overstating it, but there's some truth in it.

When I bought The Chrome Nun, my 2008 Triumph Bonneville T100, in April of 2009, I had a number of interesting hobbies, including publishing, distributing and writing most of a popular humor newspaper in Central Illinois. Two months later I had one hobby: motorcycling. And things have pretty much stayed that way for nearly two years. I don't have time for anything but my totally necessary job and riding the Nun. I don't even write anymore, except for writing about motorcycling. And that's only when for some reason I can't be riding instead.

I'm not complaining. The reason that riding has taken the place of all my other hobbies is that it satisfies the needs that made them necessary. Riding a motorcycle on the high twisties is like a wonderful fantasy, except that it's really happening. And it's interactive, meaning that I'm writing the script as I'm living it. So why would I want to play a video game or watch a movie or read a book or even write a book when I can live/create an adventure?

I suit-up like a knight or a super-hero, then walk to my beautiful machine. I don't need theme music playing in the background because when I push the starter The Nun makes her own music. Then I turn out of the driveway with or without a destination, knowing that if some new road beckons I'll be ready, willing, able and eager to explore it.

And no matter what happens, it will be a new adventure. When you're on a motorcycle even the same old roads aren't quite the same from one ride to the next. Different lighting, temperatures and traffic patterns make each ride new. Like one stepping into the ever-changing river of Heraclitus, a motorcyclist cannot ride down the same road twice.

I was never a proper hippie, but whatever I am I resonate to some of the hippie philosophy. I enjoy being alive in the moment, awake and aware in the ever-changing now. And for me, that "now" is best during motorcyclng... and that other thing that requires a partner and privacy.

Please, tread for me!

I disliked the front Lasertech on my T100. It tracked badly and wobbled at 50mph. I also wasn't fond of the road-only rear radial that gave me poor traction on gravel, grass, etc.

Modern motorcycle road-only tires are like wrap-around slicks with a few rain grooves.

I replaced those stock Metzelers at 10K miles with road-only Pirelli Sport Demons and have much improved road performance. These are great road tires.

But I made a mistake. I should have tried Tourance tires.

I love exploring bad back roads, which means I encounter sand, gravel, grass, wet metal (going on and off river ferries) and even snow. The Demons are terrific on clean paved roads but they slide in every direction on slick or loose surfaces.

Tourances put less rubber on the road, so they won't hold pavement quite as well as the Demons and they probably won't wear as well. But they have tread! I miss tread.

And the Tourance rear tread looks kinda like a reptile, which is pretty cool.

If you ride only on relatively clean pavement, I highly endorse the Demons. They are great. But if you ever need to go off pavement, consider one of the dual-sport type tires.

Next tire change I'm buying Tourance. I just have to stay upright until then.

Two-wheel snowmobile

I rode yesterday in a light snow. It didn't stick on the ground but it made my face shield a mess.

I had already discovered that Pirelli Sport Demons are not snow tires, so I go home when things start getting slick.

Around dusk the evening before I was riding around the vicinity of Creve Coeur Park and saw two herds of deer. And they saw me. Deer sure do love motorcycles. They stop and stare, and sometimes approach me.

One time in Chatham, IL a deer walked right up to me, looking me up and down intently. Then he peered into my face shield and saw that I had a face configured like that of a predator. He jumped back and ran away at top speed.

I didn't take any photos during the last two rides because it was too cold to carry the camera. I wish I'd had it when I was stopped, watching the deer watch me. Maybe next time.

Product Review - Echo Quick Release Helmet Buckle

My new helmet is comfortable but fastening and unfastening the strap was a big hassle. The D-rings are flat and harder to use than round stock D-rings. And the strap has a snap to keep the strap end from flailing in the wind, but it's hard to thread the snap through the rings.

I decided to try the Echo Quick Release helmet strap fastener. And I'm so glad I did. I can fasten and unfasten my helmet strap in a snap. I love it. After a few test rides I cut off the excess strap and left one non-flailing inch.

I was worried that continual use might wear out the working surfaces but I've used this gadget for a full year and it still holds solidly. And I see no sign of wear on the latch surfaces. But even if it crapped out now, I WOULD BUY ANOTHER ONE!

That's right. If they only lasted a year I'd just buy a new one every year. I already got my money's worth. And it's still working great! I paid about ten bucks for mine but now I see them priced around seven or eight bucks. I'm going to buy two more; one for my other helmet and one for my wife's helmet.

This gadget is so convenient. Anything that makes it easier to use my riding gear is a good thing. Some of my past gear was so much trouble to put on that I actually decided against riding sometimes just because I didn't want to go through all the hassle of getting ready. Do you ever leave your helmet on at the store just because it's a hassle to remove and put back on? Get an Echo Quick Release!

IMPORTANT NOTE: The Quick Release works with straps up to 1" wide. I don't see a wider version on their website.

New Triumph Service Center in St. Louis Area

In the St. Louis area we have had only Donelson (St. Ann, MO) and RPM (Belleville, IL) as authorized Triumph service centers.

Moto Europa has opened shop on 3410 Locust St. in downtown St. Louis, MO. They are apparently run by the folks who run RPM, and they do have authorized Triumph techs.

I was recently given the following quotes for 12,000 mile service on a 2008 T100:

Donelson:  $450.00 - $500.00  parts and labor
RPM:  $360.00  
Moto Europa:  $450.00

And Moto Europa said they'll pick up the bike at no extra charge. Now I'm suddenly not so upset about the inevitable bad weather coming. When It looks like I won't be able to ride for a couple of weeks I'll have Moto Europa pick up my bike and do the 12K service.

(I'll just pretend the $90.00 difference between RPM and M.E. is a $45.00 charge each way for pick up and delivery. It saves my wife having to make two trips to Belleville and saves me waiting for days off work with good enough weather to ride the bike to and from Belleville.)

My warranty is up April 17, 2011 (the bike's a 2008 but I bought it in 2009) and I want to do a good shakedown cruise after the 12K service to check everything out.

I also want the tech to break loose and re-torque the camshaft bolts, even if the valves don't need re-shimming, because I heard the bolts are super hard to loosen the first time but not bad on successive servicings. And I'll probably do most of my own service after the warranty is up.

Goodbye Grafton Ferry

Silt buildup between the islands forced the ferry downstream and increased the trip length by about ten minutes. Silt cleanup was deemed too expensive and the ferry owners sold their equipment to the folks who run the Golden Eagle ferry into Calhoun County, Illinois from St. Charles County, Missouri. Grafton movers and shakers are exploring new options.

The photo above is from 2010, the first time I rode the Grafton Ferry. It was the first time I ever rode ANY ferry. The white cliffs in the background are along the GRR (Great River Road). There were lots of eagles out that day but I only saw them when I was riding so I couldn't photograph them.

The flat, gently-curving GRR is a favorite with BHB (big Harley bagger) riders. I prefer the twisties and hills in Calhoun County.

You can still ferry to Grafton, kind of, by taking the Golden Eagle Ferry to Calhoun County, then ride northeast to the free Brussels Ferry across the Illinois River at Pere Marquette park, a short way from Grafton.

It's a bit of a trick getting from the Golden Eagle Ferry to the Brussels Ferry. The Google and MapQuest maps are misleading and street signs are inconsistent over there. But if you zig-zag a path going northeast from the Golden Eagle Ferry you will eventually see signs that lead you to the free Brussels Ferry.

I visited Calhoun County about six times last year and I never took quite the same route twice. You can't get too badly lost because the county is bordered by the Mississippi and Illinois Rivers, creating a long skinny peninsula. The Golden Eagle Ferry is at the southernmost tip of the "peninsula" so it's always easy to find.

But if you're going to explore Calhoun, do it on a full tank of fuel. The only gas station around is in Hardin, 20 miles north of the GE ferry. Hardin hugs the west side of the Illinois River on the east side of Calhoun County.

I love riding in Calhoun County. It reminds me of the Ozarks. It's twisty and hilly and some of the roads are awful, just the way I like them.