Tag Archive for 'motorcycle'

Mixing Business with Pleasure

In the past, I have always tried to keep itsallaboutthebike, well, all about the bike. Whether moto or bicycle related. I once have written about a backcountry ski strip one time (Natoconnect 2008), but since everyone on that trip was some sort of biker, I justified it. Since the origins of this blog were really an SEO marketing experiment, and since there is four feet of snow on the ground here in Park City, Utah, I am going to deviate from the mission statement and include a link to my December 30th, 2008 blog post on Utah CEO Magazine. It’s marketing related. I think it makes sense. With the economy looming large on everyone’s mind, we are all going to have to get smarter about how we do things.

Trust me. There is nothing I would rather do right now than saddle up the KTM, head south into the desert, and get a good head-clearing that only an adventure moto trip has the ability to do. Those days will come in 2009. And we’ll write about them next year. Happy and healthy New Year wishes to our readers, all three of you.

KTM 640 Adventure Engine Sprockets

I embarked on some maintenance and repairs of my KTM recently, and came to the conclusion that this whole internet thing, you know, blogs, and forums, and email, and websites and all, it’s really something. I would have been lost without the online community on KTM TALK, a forum for KTM owners and enthusiasts.

The basic issue: when you replace worn out sprockets on motorcycles, you generally need to replace both the back and the front. If both get worn to to the point where they start to resemble shark’s teeth, instead of symmetrical triangular profile, then you probably need to replace the chain as well. On high-end racing bicycles, road and mountain, you usually replace the chain frequently enough to avoid wear on the front chainrings and rear sprockets clusters. A new Campagnolo front chainring on my road bike costs more to replace than both front and rear sprockets on my KTM motorcycle. Go figure. The lighter the part, the more you pay. Chains, on the other hand are cheaper, and you can make cool hippie bracelets out of old ones, which is nice if you are a hippie. Go figure!

Back to the motorcycle: Both front and rear sprockets looked like shark’s teeth, so it was time to do the job. I used an online parts finder at KTM Cycle Hutt to open up a schematic of my bike and order the part online. This is the same system the local chumpshow uses to find and order parts. The parts showed up in a few days, free shipping, and I was excited to rip into this project. The problem is, the front sprocket I ordered didn’t resemble the worn one that was on my bike. That’s when I consulted the community on KTM TALK. Ask a question, get an answer. It turns out there is a thing called a “dampened front sprocket” with a massive rubber bushing that sandwiches the metal sprocket. These are only put on new bikes as a sound dampener to ever so slightly reduce the operating noise inherent in these Austrian-made gas-powered rattlers. They also do not appear on the KTM online parts diagrams. The replacement sprockets do not come with the rubber, because, once the bike makes it into the good old U.S.A., why does KTM care if it’s a little noisier? Point is, if I didn’t have KTM TALK, I’d still be scratching my head wondering what to do about these two rubber pieces that look like cross-sections of a hockey puck. I’ve had great luck finding answers on ADV Rider as well, and it seems like the good resources there also cross over to KTM TALK. Just a heads up, y’all. The world wide intraweb thing is pretty cool.

Learning From Mistakes: New Grips

The stock grips that came on my KTM Adventure 640 were paper thin rubber and offered no cushion or vibration dampening. After a full day of riding, when you feel like you have been straddling a two-wheeled 400-pound bees nest, your hands could use a little love. I bought some new grips from Sommer KTM in Deutschland last summer, and finally got around to putting them on this past weekend. What I learned is this: the easy things on motorcycles are not always as easy as one might think. Slow down. Take your time. There’s no rush. The hard things are not that hard to figure out, if you don’t have any other alternative but to relax, get inside the problem and figure it out.

When you install new grips on a mountain bike, both grips are the same size on the outside (OD, for “outside diameter”) and they are the same size on the inside (ID, for “inside diameter”). Motorcycle grips are not. Since the throttle handle is a floating sleeve over the bars on the right side of the handlebar, it has a larger OD, thus requiring a grip with a larger ID than the right side. But when you take the new grips out of the package for the first time, they look the same from the outside. When you are looking at two things your hands are going to spend a lot of time grabbing onto, you are focused on the outside (the shape, the taper in the center that will help keep your hands relaxed, the softness of the rubber that will help deaden the buzzing bees). You don’t look inside.

A friend told me to use grip glue, which I purchased from the Honda dealer in Park City, Summit Honda. There are two ways to keep your grips from sliding if they get wet: grip glue, or wiring. Grip glue provides some lube when you are first sliding these on, then it sets up like concrete and makes it impossible to ever change your grips again. Wiring involves tightly wrapping a few strands of thin gauge wire on the ends and in the middle of the grip, and twisting the ends so tight that the wire helps fasten the grips to the aluminum bars. I went with the glue. You see where this is going.

After putting the right grip on the left and realizing it would take a lot of glue to keep that grip from twisting and staying put, and after realizing there was no way in hell the left grip was going to stretch over the throttle sleeve, I quickly undid the mess I made by swapping the grips to their proper places. In the process, I made an even bigger one. With the smaller ID grip now correctly positioned on the left side, I muscled the right grip over the throttle sleeve using generous gobs of glue. A few twists of the throttle and everything seemed fine. A few twists later when the glue had set up, and the throttle would not return to neutral position like it’s supposed to. Stuck wide open, not a good thing on a motorcycle. I had to disassemble the throttle handle clamp, exposing the two throttle cables, slide the floating throttle sleeve back off the bar, and carve away the dried cement, followed by sanding with fine grit sandpaper. The good news is after putting it all back together, the throttle twisted and snapped back like butter. So the moral of the story is something like this: look inside, not outside, if you are truly to see how two things can be more or less the same, only different. And wear rubber gloves when working with glue.

A Really Close Call

I always assume whenever I start a motorcycle ride, to be aware that anything can happen at any time. It’s almost a given, and the tension of having this heightened awareness of potential danger lasts until I am on the dirt and away from traffic, intersections, stop signs and the like. After riding and racing road bicycles since 1986, I rarely have this same thought when I start out on a bicycle ride. More and more I am reminded that on a bicycle, you are more vulnerable.

Last night, I was riding with a group of six riders in Park City. It was the first Wednesday night group ride of the spring, and we were riding a pretty stiff pace the whole time. After climbing and descending Royal Street near Deer Valley, we rode back through town and started to make our way home towards Kimball Junction. We were moving along in a tight paceline on a wide shoulder, near the “white barn” in Park City. I was in the back of the group when suddenly the rider (Paul) in front and to my left was wrestling with his handlebars, as his front wheel swept from side to side. The tight, 6-person formation buzzing along as one unit in a straight line became 6 individuals dispersing in what limited space was available between the dirt should and the white line. In slow motion, I looked up in front of us to see 5 or 6 long sections of PVC pipe, airborne, guided missiles coming straight at us. The plumber whose truck this load fell off of continued on, racing away with traffic, unaware that he could have killed a cyclist, right there on one of Park City’s most travelled roads.

Apparently, Paul wobbled in the paceline because he was closest to the traffic lane, and one of the PVC pipes slid out from the rest and was dangling into our lane, whacking him in the back just fractions of a second before the whole load came off in front of us. It was because of this we were all able to react in time. Things could have turned out bad, real bad.

Needless to say: that plumber will no longer be my plumber.