Motorcycles: Going "Green" Without Going "Weenie"

Americans have yet to come to terms with motorcycles in the same way that most of the world has.  Many countries are teeming with motorcycles.  In some, they outnumber cars by a wide margin.  However, to many people in "the states," motorcycles are still relegated to the bottom of the transportation hierarchy--somewhere above hitchhiking--and are often still seen as purely recreational.  I have a hard time understanding why this is, but I have a four theories:
1.) Space:  No, not the final frontier, but rather the distance between our "sea to shining sea."  Motorcycles, no matter how comfortable, are conveyances that can never offer the comfort of an automobile.  Traveling a long distance on one has historically been the province of only the most iron-butted of individuals.  Studies have shown that the average daily round trip for American workers is an hour-and-a-half.  That is a lot of time to spend in the saddle of a motorcycle, and bad weather is hard to tolerate for a commute that long.  This drastically limits a motorcycle as a consideration as a sole means of transport. 
2.)  Stigma:  This reason, despite its potential to be the #1 most important, will remain innocently un-ranked in this assessment.  In America, motorcycles are ridden by rebels and those who want to look like rebels.  They are ridden by those who will ride through a blistering hailstorm, and by those who wear similar gear, talk tough, but only venture out on the weekends.  Either way, as a rule, they are not ridden throughout the week by your neighbor the computer programmer.  Fifty years ago, fathers wouldn't let their daughters date a guy who showed up on a motorcycle.  It was this sort of "rough" characteristic that motorcyclists had to live with, some enjoyed, and many have tried to emulate.
3.)  Spoiled Rottenness:  There is a good reason that motorcycles are often shoved into the realm of recreation by average Americans.  We're spoiled.  Unless men or women is crave the unbridled exposure to nature and mechanical goodness that motorcycling offers, we as Americans have no other reason to pursue such seemingly base forms of passage.  In other countries, the length of the average commute is shorter, the streets are narrower, the parking at home is nearly nonexistent, and the budget is often tighter.  In American, motorcycles are often the 2nd, (if you're single) 3rd, or 4th vehicle in the lineup. 
4.)  Risk:  Despite our nation's rebellious heritage, the similarly risky nature of motorcycling is a bit off-putting to the majority of U.S. citizens.  Today's American seems to be very safety conscious.  Insurance statistics are quoted, personal anecdotes are shared, and demeaning comments are made by relatives.  After all, a personal injury suffered while on a motorcycle could jeopardize the well-being of an otherwise discerning individual after a fine day of eating at Burger King, watching Jersey Shore and propping one's self up with the latest prescription drug or energy drink.

How can motorcycling rise above such cultural funk?  The "green" movement may hold the answer.  Today's motorcycles (even the big V-twins) produce fuel mileage numbers that challenge the most technologically advanced hybrid cars on the market, often for one third of the price (or less if you buy used).  Despite the persistence of "HOV" lanes, the truth remains that most people travel to work alone.  There are plenty of used motorcycles available that get over 45 miles per gallon, so why waste our resources to build a $30,000-40,000 hybrid car that sports 4 seats (three of which will go unused on a regular basis) when a $2,500 motorcycle will do?  Forget the crazy Lithium batteries, nasty sticker shock, and college professor stigma.  It's time for the "green" movement to embrace something that has been here all along--the humble, enjoyable, economical motorcycle.

The Ford Ruster

I said that I would be updating this blog with projects I've undertaken, but I really dropped the ball. First of all, it should be noted that taking 15 credits a semester while trying to raise to toddlers is project enough for most people. Secondly, the fact that I haven't posted anything on a blog doesn't mean I haven't done anything. Take, for instance, the '98 Ford Ranger (the "Ruster") that I bought for $20.00 from my brother-in-law. It was running on three or four out of its six cylinders, had a blown head gasket, and the exhaust ended right under the cab. It was a lovely combination. After a few hundred dollars were spent collecting parts, my brother and I dove into the engine bay.
Here is the engine torn down to the block (we didn't touch the bottom end--pistons, rings, etc.)


New gaskets and new heads going on:


Ready for intake:


Intake manifold and rockers on. Ready for...everything else:


Valve covers, and a bunch of other stuff, haha:


This is it, almost ready to fire:


And running!


Here is the quick list of parts replaced:
-Heads
-water pump
-top end gaskets
-head bolts
-all fluids
-spark plugs, cap, rotor, plug wires
-pushrods (a couple were bent, and one was just laying under the intake manifold in the valley pan)
-new rear leaf spring shackles (old ones were so rusted they were literally not there anymore)

That's all I can think of now. It has been a while, and the truck is still running great. It blows some smoke and uses a bit of oil--looks like the rings were toast, but I'll live, and so will the Ruster.

With my own two hands...

There's a great book written by Matthew B. Crawford called Shop Class as Soul Craft which is a must-read for any man (or woman) who has marveled at the workings of a machine (especially one with an internal combustion engine) and attempted to fix it himself. His arguments for the intellectual merit of skilled trades and craftsmanship are superb, and I often found myself jotting my agreement in the margins. He tackles our throw-away culture head-on by preaching the forgotten, yet still true, value of knowing how one's "stuff" works. Anyway, read the book if you get the chance. You won't regret it, and you'll probably end up saving a bunch of money while simultaneously learning more about the things you take for granted in your life. For those who have more dollars than sense, this book should at least serve as a wake-up call that their definition of "knowledge work" needs some adjustment. If your mechanic (or plumber, or electrician, etc) is practicing a trade that pays $60,000+ a year and you are forced to admit that he knows 100 times more than you about automobiles, what about his trade is not knowledge-related? Is it because he works with his hands and gets greasy? Is it because he smokes or uses foul language? Come on, folks; we all have those capabilities, and many of us would gladly use them to make as much as some mechanics, but truth be told, most of us aren't smart enough. Some of you are probably thinking, "I know some mechanics, and there is no way they qualify as smart." Maybe not--not by today's definition of smart--but who would you want working on your Boeing 747 before takeoff; a doctor, lawyer, teacher, accountant, or greasy professional airline mechanic?  The answer to this obviously-rhetorical question is the latter, but why? Because mechanics are educated and Crawford does an excellent job of detailing his own "gearhead" education in the book. This is the man who left a position as the executive director of a Washington think-tank to start his own motorcycle repair shop, because the work was more fulfilling; more tangible. Fascinating stuff.

After roughly six years of college education, and a pending Master's in Secondary Education, I have to say that my most intellect-challenging, brain-stretching moments have been under the hood of a car or bent over the minute passages of a disassembled motorcycle carburetor. That revelation has persuaded me to add a new aspect to this blog: the "Projects" label. Rather than speak abstractly about cool cars and motorcycles as some unattainable mystical unicorns, I'll endeavor to work on, or build them myself. Along the way, I'll try to document the process and present it here. Wish this "grease monkey" luck.

March '09 Car of the Month

1966-1972 Lamborghini Miura
Some things are just beautiful. Oftentimes, no matter how quirky or dangerous their personalities or tendencies, their outward appearance redeems them in a way that makes the rest a formality. This is true in almost every area of life. Take the great white shark. The beauty of its form, as it cruises gracefully (and quickly) through the water, is awesome to behold. The fact that it might potentially be cruising toward Richard Dreyfuss and Roy Scheider in an old fishing boat is almost forgivable. After all, it's a shark! They are beautiful, powerful killers (but hardly ever man-eaters).

Now, there are exceptions to this beauty thing. Some things in this world are so offensive that beauty alone can not save them. It would be too easy to give human examples, so consider the DeLorean DMC-12 for a moment. Production began in 1980 on the car that would enjoy fame as "the Back to the Future car." After selling 8,900 units, it became obvious to the public that the car, although really cool looking with its stainless body and gullwing doors, was garbage. Its Renault V6 made about enough power for a large lawn mower, and the handling characteristics and reliability were horrid. So John DeLorean had beauty with his car, and squandered it.

The Italians don't make that mistake very often. In fact, most "car guys" would be hard pressed to name a Fiat, Ferrari or Lamborghini that was universally condemned as an unlovable car. At the very least, they are those beautiful creatures that might take some flexibility to live with , but are oh-so pleasant to look at and listen to. The Lamborghini Miura is no exception.

Actually, as far as older supercars go, the Miura is relatively easy to live with (chance of engine fire and high-speed front end lift). Those minor deficiencies were more than compensated for by a body that goes beyond stylish. Its beauty is timeless. Imagine yourself as a car stylist working with Lamborghini on a new version of the Miura. Then take a look at the following photos.

I don't know about you, but I would find it pretty tough to come up with an improvement to these lines. That is why I find it hard to believe Lamborghini did a Miura concept car in 2006--if only as a tribute to its past (picture below).

So what makes the Miura so desirable? Would it have sold as an expensive, beautiful piece of stationary art? No way, and one thing is for sure-- the legend and mystique of the Miura would be nonexistent without its mid-mounted transverse V12 engine. Producing 345hp in its early years, and graduating to 385hp by 1972, the engine was enough to compete with the best. It was part of the reason journalist L.J.K. Setright called the Miura a "supercar," which is widely regarded as the first time the word was used. Some have argued that another publication used the term in 1966 to describe the Chevy II. If so, big deal. The Chevy II may be a lot of things, but it will never go down in history as a supercar, because it isn't one. The Miura, however, will always be known as a supercar. It still holds the visual appeal to give pedestrians whiplash double-takes 50 years after it was made.

They say that architecture is the most fragile of mediums for an artist, with buildings slowly being fatigued and decomposed by the elements. I'll give it a close second to automotive styling. Not only do the elements eat away at your art, but it stands a good chance at being destroyed in a violent collision with another rolling masterpiece (or an old lady in a rusty Chevy II). Beyond those things, an automobile is subject to the fickle environmental trends and fashion "sense" that have screwed up entire decades (see American cars 1975-1985).
The fact that so many of these cars have survived 5 decades of those things and can still be called beautiful is a great accomplishment in this "medium." Besides, what painting makes a sound like this?

March '09 Bike of the Month

2009 Yamaha Vmax
Well, it took Yamaha a couple of decades, but they finally gave us an all new Vmax. The people at Yamaha knew that they had a pretty good thing going with the old Vmax, and they also were aware that their customers knew the same thing. The new one would have to display improvements in every aspect--power, braking, handling and looks, while maintaining a reasonable cruiser comfort level. Above all, the look and feel of "riding an engine" had to be carried over.

I am happy to declare that the new Vmax delivers the goods on every front. Why should I be so happy, even though I can not afford one on my meager income? I delight in the basic principle fulfilled here. Despite the attempts of enviro-weinies, lawyers and insurance companies to curb noise, risk and fun, the buying public showed demand for such a motorcycle. Then Yamaha produced it. That makes me happy. If current legal and economic trends continue, this motorcycle could stand as the zenith of sport cruising for a long time. It's that good.

Here are some indicators to go by:

- criticisms against its outstanding performance numbers are mainly voiced by those who compare it to the upper echelon of "superbikes," (Suzuki Hayabusa, Kawasaki ZX-14, etc.). For those unfamiliar with the names, those are bikes that are built specifically for sport and/or racing, with comfort being sacrificed for peak performance.

- The 2009 Mini Cooper S (a small, four passenger sporty car) has 172 horsepower/177 lb-ft. of torque, and a top speed of 139 mph. The Vmax has 200 hp and 122 lb-ft. of torque.

- A vein popped out of Al Gore's forehead when he discovered such a bike could still be produced.*

Yamaha is not shy about letting the pubilc know just what this bike is about. Check out the video of the grand unveiling:



Wondering what it may sound like on the street? Well, I wondered. So here:



And that brings up my favorite part--the sound. Ah yes, the sound. If this bike (and the original 1985 version) had been constructed around a high-horsepower inline 4 cylinder, it would have been lost to the sands of time after a few years like most of the bikes it debuted with. Luckily, the R&D guys at Yamaha saw fit to endow it with an engine that overflows with character, and a sound that bridges the gap between the thump of a V-twin and the scream of a race tuned V8.

If I had to choose a motorcycle to ride every single day, this would be the one. It has something for every situation, and more than something for most.
Like Chevy's latest Corvette Z06, it seems that Yamaha set out to create a machine "that does more things well" than any other in its class. 'nough said.

*This may or may not have happened

February '09 Bike of the Month

1985 Yamaha Vmax

In 1984, one of the gnarliest motorcycles of all time hit the streets. The Yamaha Vmax and its 145hp(!) V4 easily asserted its dominance as the sport cruiser. 145 horsepower. That may not sound like a lot to those not into motorcycles, so let's put this into context:

-In 1985, Harley Davidson's "big twin" bikes were making 64hp.

-Harley's current horsepower king is the V-rod (featuring the "Revolution" engine) Horsepower? 121.

-Only the newest and most expensive super-bikes have gotten closer to the 200hp mark.

Speed and power were not the only goals of Yamaha's R&D team. They wanted the bike to tap a market of individuals interested in V8 muscle cars; essentially hot-rodders. To that end, the bike was marketed as just that--an "American Hot-Rod." Now, anything can be marketed as a hot-rod, but the Vmax more than lived up to the title (never mind the "American" part). Every gear head knows that there is more to a hot-rod than big power and speed. It has to have "that feel," and "that sound." This bike has both in spades. As Donald "Duck" Dunn says in the classic Blues Brothers, it has a sound "that could turn goat p*** into gasoline." It turns out that a well-designed and tuned V4 sounds a lot like a V8 due to firing order, and that would be a great conversation piece by itself. But when the throttle is cracked wide open in any gear, the line between the two engines becomes a bit blurred--along with the scenery. Take a listen to it here. Skip forward to the 1:15 mark of the video.

The Vmax featured a performance enhancement called "Vboost," which kicks in at 6000 rpm and opens butterfly valves, allowing each cylinder to be fed by two carburetors instead of one. There is nothing like riding or driving a vehicle that seems to "come alive" at a certain rpm, and the Vmax is certainly no exception. The complexity and size of the intake system, with its twin side scoops, made it necessary to move the fuel tank. It was relocated under the seat--hence the odd-looking hinged bump between the driver/passenger seats. The Vmax featured a drive-shaft final drive instead of the typical chain, which helped with reliability. The design of the bike was basically unchanged for over 20 years, which is a near-miracle in the motorcycle industry (Harley is exempt here). The bike has garnered a huge following, with dedicated support and fan sites the world over.

Below are two pictures, one of the 1985 original, and the other of a 2001 model. Can you pick out the differences?

After the 2007 model year, Yamaha decided to "bite the bullet" and completely redesign the Vmax. This left many enthusiasts wondering whether or not justice could be done to the absolute menacing attitude of the original. I will leave you hanging until next month, when I will cover the new one in depth.

I have heard it said that the Vmax may not be a sport-bike, with its upright riding style, but staying ahead of sport-bikes isn't hard. Just pin the throttle and spray everyone with road debris and chunks of rubber!

February '09 Car of the Month

I have decided that the best way to force myself to write about something fun is to schedule it--then make that schedule public. So here goes. Every month I will choose a "Car" (or truck) and "Bike"(motorcycle) of the month. This way I get to do one of my favorite things in the world: research car or bike information. Then I will try to tell you something that you may have never known about that vehicle. These vehicles may be old or new, as long as they have that certain combination of power, style and uniqueness. Although I grew up primarily loving classic Mopars (Dodge, Plymouth, Chrysler), I will not let my bias show through here. I hope you will enjoy this process halfway as much as me.

Car of the Month, February 2009: 1969 AMC Javelin

I grew up loving a car that I never met. My Dad would regale my brother and me with tales of his youth, and the car related adventures he had. The stories that always captivated me the most involved a certain blue and silver AMC Javelin, with a 343 V8 and 4-speed. It had been modified by a previous owner with a mystery combination of parts, and made a "bit" more power than stock. Sometimes my Dad would tell the story and get a "far-off" look in his eye, perhaps recalling the screaming engine, the road trips with friends, beating a Corvette in a race, or watching it drive off into the distance for the last time. No matter what he thought about the car, I was left with an indelible impression of the car as a complete freak of nature and a lot of fun to drive. 'Nuf said. Now to the details.

AMC (American Motors Corporation) was a company with multiple personalities. Formed in 1954 by way of a merger between the Hudson and Nash car companies, American Motors was a company that specialized in change. The merger may have happened for purely financial reasons (Nash and Hudson execs knew that merging would cut costs and provide a unified front against the competition of the "Big 3:" Ford, Chrysler and GM). The irony is that, although their plan succeeded, by the mid 1960s the company was over-spending again. Cars like Javelin, AMX and Rebel Machine--their best cars-- were produced as a desperate attempt to gain some market share in the rapidly expanding "pony" and "muscle" car markets.

No matter what people may have thought about the image and future of American Motors, there was no denying that these new cars were nothing to sneeze at. The Javelin, introduced in 1968 as a somewhat tardy entrant to the "pony-car" market, was a success. With an in-line six cylinder as the base engine and four optional V8s, the Javelin was appealing to a wide range of speed needs. Unlike some of its contemporaries, the Javelin and its 2-seat brother, the AMX (released later in the 1968 model year) were fun to drive with any of the available V8s. This is part of what made the pony cars (early Barracudas, Mustangs and Camaros included) special. They were small and light enough that a small V8 such as the base 290 2-barrel in the Javelin (200hp, 285 lb-ft of torque) could motivate them to adrenaline-releasing authority. This led to many a surprised muscle car driver at the stoplights in local towns. You can imagine the embarrassment of the guy who spent big bucks on a Corvette, big-block Chevelle or Hemi Charger eating the dust of a "lowly" Javelin. The 290 (which also came in a high-output four barrel version: 225hp, 300tq), was by no means the dream engine in these cars either. A screaming 343 was available in 235hp, 345tq and 280hp, 365tq variants. The pavement-shredding top-of-the-line was the 390 (315hp, 425tq). With all of these combinations available, as well as suspension, transmission and paint options, the Javelin could be made into a unique automotive statement. In 1969, AMC decided not to mess with a good thing, and they only slightly modified the grill and other cosmetic aspects. For the AMX, they also offered what they called the "Big Bad" colors (eye-searing hues of green, orange and blue, pictured above) which were all too appropriate in the late 60s.

And this is where it all comes down to personal preference. If I was a twenty-something in 1968, with a wad of cash and an AMC dealership nearby, I would be driving home something similar to the car pictured below. A 1969 Javelin 390 4-barrel, "Go-Pack:" 4-speed, "twin-grip" rear end, 8000 rpm tach, heavy-duty cooling and disc brakes. The allure of these performance options is easy to understand, but as is often the case, it is the intangibles that make a car special.

To me, there is something purposeful about the spartan interior of a Javelin. Greeting the driver are a few gauges in a simple dash that matches the color of the entire rest of the upholstery. A big chrome Hurst shifter with cue ball shift knob rises from a black rubber boot, secured right on the carpeted center hump by a chrome metal ring. No center console, no cup holders and no form without function. The minimal sound-deadening material is a blessing from God in this car, because the drivetrain makes all of the right noises. The signature whine of the 4-speed transmission rises and falls with rpms and is a reminder, even at low speed, that this is not your grandfather's Buick. The high compression 390 starts from a low mellow burble and rises to drown out the transmission whine (and anything else) with a scream that fills the cabin. The "twin-grip" rear end transforms any intersection into an opportunity for the driver to leave his or her mark on the world--two strips of rubber at a time.

So why choose the Javelin and not the shorter, sportier AMX? For one thing, the AMX is a 2-seater, which is great most of the time, but those extra two seats in the Javelin are perfect for scaring the driver's friends into a concern for their eternal destination. On a more relevant note, the Javelin was the car that AMC decided to enter in the SCCA Trans Am racing series in 1968. The race-prepped Javelins were awesome, and they proved reliable as well. AMC went on to win in the early seventies, with such notable racing personalities as Roger Penske and Mark Donohue involved. The AMX, although successful in many drag racing arenas, was never a road-racing champ, and therefore ranks lower in its allure to me. If I were to restore a Javelin right now, you can bet that it would more closely resemble the actual race-prepped Mark Donohue Javelin (see pic below), than its showroom cousin, the "Mark Donohue Edition" Javelin (2500 were built in order to "homologate," or make the Javelin admissible in the 1970 season with certain engine equipment).

The Javelin and AMX are still cars that confuse people that are used to seeing late model Mustangs and Camaros all their lives, which is part of the fun. It's especially fun if they are driving one of those cookie cutters when you leave them in the dust at a stoplight.

These were cars that, within a year of being on the market gave the best offerings from the "Big 3" a run for their money--on the streets and on the track. That is impressive, to say the least.