I know what you’re saying, ”What’s you being a failed loser tv anomaly got to do with me thinking you know what the fuck you’re talking about even regarding bran muffins, forget about global meteorology?” Nothing. It has nothing to do with it. Why would you even make that association? Is this how you treat a guest into your computer?….. with rudeness and accusations and dredging up the past? I haven’t brought up that incident regarding you and the goat have I? Ok, then, I think we have a calming inside the room then. And that’s great.

Now then: this site devotes a good deal of time incorporating chemists and meteorologists and schooled analyzers into all things weather-related, and these articles involve a lot of charts and numbers and percentages and thermometers and graphics and data and figures and column and pie charts and flow charts and timelines and core samples and reports and nuts and bolts and washers, and maybe dryers…….I don’t talk about any of those things.

I talk about you putting down your beer, trying to get to your feet, going over to the window and looking out of it and seeing if you see anything different out there than you are used to seeing out there at this time of year. Twenty years ago Al Gore was telling you that what you SHOULD be seeing out your window today is charred bodies, no plants, sand dunes, skeletons, tumbleweeds, dead birds and a Martian landscape.

You don’t see that do you. You see what’s always been out there, just doing its thing and trees and birds and clouds and, basically, the weather. You don’t SEE climate change you just HEAR about it. From news hacks and political hacks. No one else sees ANYTHING that the news hacks and the political hacks are apparently seeing. Well, THEY’RE not seeing it either. They’re just SAYING they are. Because they’re…..you might want to sit back down for this……because they’re lying. Why are they lying? That’s a different topic. This topic is the climate change lie. The LIE part of climate change is that you’re the reason it’s happening. Who knows, the climate could actually be changing. Who gives a shit? Fuck the ozone layer is my attitude.

Now, the lie that you are responsible for the climate change you don’t actually SEE any evidence of is bolstered by not just the lie but by deceptive vocabulary. Or in other words the same thing detergent packages use to convince you they’re saying something they’re not. Like “50% FREE” on a new larger size of soap powder. If it was REALLY fifty percent free you could extract half the contents and walk out the store with it. But you would get arrested except in California. Because it’s not actually 50% free. You get fifty percent more at the same price that the previous size held. I’m keeping this simple because I know you want to get to the cheesecake that infiltrates this yarn. I don’t blame you.

I wrote a 60,000 + “dictionary” that translates political and news jargon for everything under the sun that these two lying imbecilic segments of our imbecilic society use relentlessly. Below are just the words and terminology they are using regarding YOU being the reason THEY are seeing “climate change.” Which none of us NORMAL people can see. You don’t need charts and graphs to see that climate is “changing” you just need ME to show you that if it IS changing…..YOU’RE not the reason. The words THEY’RE using are to drill it into your head that you actually ARE the reason. Trust me: you’re not that fucking awesome.



3: HEAT DOME (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION)…… A sign of an impending “climate catastrophe.” (ACTUAL DEFINITION)…..High pressure system.



4: ARCTIC VORTEX (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION) A sign of an impending “climate catastrophe.” (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……Low pressure system: upgraded by the media etc to bomb cyclone



4.1: BOMB CYCLONE (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION)……A sign of an impending “climate catastrophe.” (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……Low pressure system. Used to augment arctic vortex which has been considered too uncatastrophic.



5-ATMOSPHERIC RIVER (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION)…… A sign of an impending “climate catastrophe.” (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……Rain.



12: GRAY SWAN CLIMATE CHANGE EVENT……At the moment I have no idea what this is. It’s that fucking nebulous. I never claimed to be perfect. Just this-far short of it. A routine internet exploration of whatever this is, after visiting many many sites in the manner of my usual employment of data searches, being a practitioner of Gestalt Learning Theory, what I have seen as being the common overarching thread is that a gray swan climate change event is a massive hugely disastrous freak anomalous “perfect storm times one thousand” ruinous weather occurrence that probably won’t ever happen.

What I have surmised from all this is that, politically, it will be used routinely in all future weather discussions to further bend the malleable listless mind of the listener into associating all weather, all the time, anywhere on earth with potentially horrific possibilities of bulging without warning into the word-of-the-age which would be a “catastrophic” somethingorother.

“Gray swan climate change event” is the only entry in this remarkable dictionary regarding which the compiler admits to being totally adrift regarding spotting landfall wherein a complete understanding of this strangely-poetic gibberish expression lies exposed and revealed upon the glistening white sands of a shoreline. Along with “attribution science” – a new science also defined in this list, both expressions are waiting in the wings to be eventually used everyday by every political and journalist hack on anyone’s payroll to bolster the already-full dumpster bin of Kamala Harris Level word garbage.



13: CLIMATE-CAUSED WILDFIRES (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALISM DEFINITION)……A reality (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……An agenda-driven fabrication to 1: promote Marxism and 2: to justify government-created shortages. Climate-caused wildfires are things that don’t actually ever happen on this planet. Do not confuse “climate-caused wildfires” with lightning-caused wildfires. Which actually exist. Climate-caused wildfires is part of the “new science of politically-decreed atmospheric reality,” touted by such titans of learning as Ocasio Cortez and Greta Thunberg.


27: HUMAN-CAUSED GLOBAL WARMING (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION)……A reality. (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……A fabricated imaginary meteorological scapegoat created by bureaucrats who are unable, or more likely unwilling, to provide the utilities and roadways and water supplies – the most important aspects of modern life – their respective citizenries have for some imbecilic reason entrusted them with providing…… and enthusiastically endorsed as fact by journalists because it amuses them to see ruination and spiritually excites them to write about it.

This sort of thing – that humans control the weather – used to be called “rain dancing.” At least when the Apaches and the Zunis were controlling the weather. Academically it was referred to as “paganism,” or “Pantheism” or “Animism” whereat primitive superstitious people such as lived in Ancient Persia and Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome attributed self-awareness and infallibly-wise willful motivation to plants and animals and terrain and sea and sky, and to anything else that doesn’t actually have these things.

Today these notions are mandatory, via government and the “press,” as religious belief systems whether you ascribe to them or not. Incidentally, from an American Constitution standpoint, not that it matters, these notions, that “the environment” is conscious, violate the “establishment of religion” clause in the Bill of alleged Rights.

In fact, the Constitution itself violates the establishment of religion clause and every Supreme Court Justice and Constitutional Law student in history knows that. Good luck getting them to admit it, they’d have to take a drastic cut in pay via an actual job.

32: HUMAN-CAUSED GLOBAL WARMING (CONT)……a technologically impossible achievement, even if intended, and proclaimed by journalists and bureaucrats and below-amateur unschooled meteorologists like Greta Thunberg and Al Gore to be actually in operation by accident!

Only the most primitive and/or the most narcissistic, and usually the most unemployable minds imaginable can manage to convince themselves that the planetary atmosphere of Earth is affected in any way by human activity. The sun and the earth’s atmosphere do not care what we do, especially since they both played a major role in the creation of humans and did it without any bureaucratic oversight by Chuck Schultz or journalistic oversight by The New York Times or ecological oversight by Greta Thunberg.

42: ATTRIBUTION SCIENCE (UNIVERSAL DEFINITION).……This goes into Biden-Ocasio-Harris levels of Pretend-Chicken-Little Hysteria so let’s get on board. Attribution science is a new “science” created basically overnight by a committee of UN doctrinaires who created “the pandemic” and devoured by journalists and bureaucrats as further proof – to you the idiot – that their – the journalists’ and bureaucrats’ – commands must be obeyed.

It’s a lie-bolstering “proof” that the insistent proclamations by Marxists in government and journalism that human progress – in America – and improvements of standards of living for humans – in America, Europe, Canada, Australia and New Zealand but not China, Persia, India, Indonesia and Japan – is heating the earth up……are now “proven to be true” by an additional non-science of Attribution Science bolstering the original non-science of Human-Caused Climate Change Science. Attribution Science now gives validity to “Climate Science.” Formerly meteorology. Attribution Science is now an addendum, “added proof” variation of “Climate Science.”

So, it’s one propaganda creation reinforcing another propaganda creation. This sort of thing is called childish make-believe under normal circumstances. It’s called demonic possession when adults do it in total seriousness in order to shunt the Industrial Revolution back to 50 million B.C. Now called BCE by the enemies of Jesus of Nazareth king of the Jews. Attribution science is a word combination that has no actual definition or even a reality. It has, rather, a function: to condition the mind more firmly to the fiction that humans affect the atmosphere and the sun and eventually, probably, the galaxy.

Specifically: this new overnight science – actually created by a “climate committee” – measures, via make-believe, or “modeling” as it’s called, how much any particular storm has been magnified from its normal energy to a higher energy via human activity. Which is not a science. It’s a proclamation. Actually, it’s lunacy. On purpose. To see just how fucking stupid you are.

So, there is now not just Climate Science, thus replacing meteorology, an emotionally neutral word being replaced with an expression rife with emotional charge, but there is also now “attribution science” added to “climate science” thus creating two new sciences to “study” (meaning “to create edicts for you to obey”) thus giving “human caused global warming” a reality so firm and unquestioned that it requires two entire “sciences” to fully unravel it’s catastrophic potential should you fail to obey the very non-scientific commands and regimentations being prepared for dump-page onto your head by “health advisors.” Whatever even in the fuck those are.



43: CLIMATE SCIENCE (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALIST DEFINITION)……Proof that humans in America, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and Europe are causing the atmosphere of the earth to heat up, soon to catastrophic levels. (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……The political left-wing progressive socialistic/Marxist, and now Islamic, via the UN, version of meteorology having as its scientific basis….. prophesy.


Its most fundamental axiom or tenet is that your use of a car and an air conditioner, and exhaling CO2 from your lungs, and using electricity, except for powering your non-“fossil”-powered car…. are warming the earth; the assumption being that a warmer earth is a catastrophe of enough import to warrant you living like a Tanganyikan veldt-inhabitant circa 25,000 BC courtesy of whoever is giving the orders at the moment.

At THIS moment it’s “health experts” in the UN: which is the current world government, currently being run – according to the Muslims, who quite proudly admit it – by Muslims. THE major declaration, pronouncement, edict, threat, whatever you want to call it, is that the earth is a greenhouse. The earth is 4+ billion years old and has never been a greenhouse before. But now it is. And it took a bureaucrat to discover this. Probably Al Gore, famous Cal Tech-Level atmospheric scientist bureaucrat Jabba the Hutt look-alike. In fact, as it turns out, Al Gore is wrong, the earth is not a greenhouse. Nor is it a fucking giraffe. (see greenhouse gas)



45: FOSSIL FUEL (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALIST/CITIZENRY DEFINITION)……Oil, coal and methane. (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……An imaginary – but proclaimed as real – fuel that does not actually exist. Coal and oil and methane, which do exist, are natural hydrocarbons found in the earth and probably on the moon where no fossils ever existed. That does not mean that any coal or oil eventually found on the moon will not be declared fossil fuel. Because there seems to be no cure for this delusion.



72: GAVIN NEWSOM JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT (DEFINITION)……The perfection of representational government in human form, Newsom being the most caring-for-others human being in history since Jesus of Nazareth king of the Jews.

(ACTUAL DEFINITION) The “governor” of California and the human embodiment of blithering, rictus-faced, imbecility and the poster boy for everything stupid that bureaucrats and journalists praise as essential for happiness.

Regarding his stupidity, for instance, Gavin Newsom is convinced that the air within the borders of California walls itself into a bent-rectangular column that is the exact shape of California, from ground level to the limits of the upper atmosphere. In other words, the air above the California terrestrial boundary lines….stays in place. It never moves beyond California. And that, via Newsom’s personal direction and commands and edicts, its temperature in the riveted-in-place stationary atmosphere (California’s) can be lowered, thus cooling the surface ground layer to where it can be safely trod upon.

Why California’s now-cooled air won’t drift out across the Pacific or drift over into Arizona is a question that no journalist will ever think to ask because journalists are duller intellectually than Karl Marx. To journalists and bureaucrats Gavin Newsom is an Apostle-level saint and the only entity in California who actually cares about people other than himself and therefore anyone who doesn’t revere him as a Savior is a selfish, antisocial “hater.” His every expression and facial contortion broadcasts “batshit” farther than Voyager’s present position in space from the earth. Making him, essentially, the perfect bureaucrat.



83: GRETA THUNBERG (PRESS/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION)……Child meteorological prodigy steeped in advanced preternatural understanding of the human threat to world atmospheric temperatures, yet fortunately blessed with a clear and infallible plan of action incumbent upon all humanity to follow if we are to survive as a species.

(ACTUAL DEFINITION)……Self-proclaimed teenage major climate and atmospheric super scientist and Fahrenheit and centigrade monitor/analyst who has probably never taken her own temperature due to ineptitude. How she has come by her expertise in meteorology no one knows so apparently the assumption is she is an atmospheric mystic of sublime insight. Her face seems to be devoid of skin muscles with the exception of the eternal wrestling match that seems to always be going on in the writhing flesh of her forehead.

Her emotional wrath regarding the refusal of “leaders” to obey her is unabating. When she is not screaming her demands of compliance to her wishes and commands and edicts – which are basically “Do something about this!!!” – she glares silently with what apparently is a scowl, though it could be delight, there is no way of knowing, her face is very similar everywhere in its absence of contrasting features, much like a large plate is.

To date no one has asked her where she comes by her certainties about how terrestrial climate and weather can be “reversed,” whatever reversing the weather could actually mean. She seems to want less heat although many of the “major” news and journalistic entities are insisting that “climate change” is now heating formerly cold areas and freezing formerly hot ones, which, it would seem to me is not climate change but merely climate relocation, which no one has yet explained why THAT would be a problem.

No one also ever explains why climate CHANGE is a problem, but the suggested hint is that without an abandonment of the industrial revolution the earth will burst into flame. Greta Thunberg, for all her fulminations and demands for obedience seems to possess not even one item of scholarly qualification for her monomania. Therefore, she is more than qualified to be the global-press’s go-to gal for global temperature prognostication. Idiots always know their own.





102: ATMOSPHERIC RIVER (CONT)………Rain. Atmospheric river is more menacing and ominous a word for rain than is, just, “rain,” – the effort being to make all normal earth weather into something heinously monstrous thanks to, according to the Marxists, which are basically everyone at this point, thanks to the Industrial Revolution making life easier for humans and thus endangering the planet that put them here. Nature is apparently suicidal. So humans – a creation of Nature – must save Nature from itself by the humans ceasing to exist, for this is the moral thing to do. According to sociopathic, inept, “influencers.”



111: HUMAN-CAUSED GLOBAL WARMING (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALIST DEFINITION) A fact and an existential threat. (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……A Kabbalah-indoctrination process designed to convince idiots that they are gods. It has nothing to do with meteorology or atmospheric science or trees or CO2 or cars or boats or batteries or light bulbs or the Amazon or hair spray or freon or anything else being tossed your way other than Kabbalists who have no actual jobs who are for some reason called “The Government” decreeing that we are mighty beings filled with powerful spiritual potential and weather-controlling superpowers who need to reclaim our rightful claim to godhood. Via obedience to perverse idiots and hair-sniffers-of-children on the public payroll.



113: WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER…….The official government announcement via the “pandemic” and the climate “crisis” that this is officially now a Communist, not just a socialist, Country. The only thing missing at the end of this slogan is the word “comrade.”



114: ATMOSPHERIC RIVER (cont)………..A more menacing, ominous word for rain, the effort being to make all normal earth weather into something heinously monstrous thanks to the Industrial Revolution and your air conditioner now destroying the earth.



125: CLIMATE SCIENCE (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALIST DEFINITION)…… The proof that humans are raising the earth’s temperature. (ACTUAL DEFINITION)…… Not actually one of the sciences, but rather a prognostication announcement based on nothing.

Meteorology is one of the sciences. “Climate science” is a government/journalist vocabulary-creation that has no actual texts or data or experiments or tested theories or examined hypotheses or anything else remotely scientific gathered together in anything that could be called collected research.

It’s just two words created by, probably Al Gore, who now looks like a Bantha, to convince you that you – being assumed an idiot – are supposed to think that “climate science” is something that is “proof” that you personally “are causing the earth to heat up.” Climate science has the same claim to legitimacy as a science as does political science: none.



130: EXISTENTIAL THREAT (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALIST DEFINITION)…..Everything that is functional or normal, either in existence or not, whether it is a threat or not, It doesn’t matter. The entire universe is an existential threat.

(ACTUAL DEFINITION) Any present-danger threat that’s actually in existence. As opposed to the ones bureaucrats and journalists claim are in existence: a list too long to put here. That something may be a threat does not mean it is likely. The sun is an existential threat: it COULD go nova. It IS one of the things that can go nova. So, it IS an existential threat. It’s just not imminent.

When a bureaucrat uses “existential threat,” it is calculated to lure you into assuming it’s happening now and can’t be stopped unless you IMMEDIATELY get in line with….(and THAT’S going to a long list.)




172: THE WEATHER CHANNEL (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION)……A television channel nation-wide devoted to the daily weather and weather-related topics. (ACTUAL DEFINITION) A purchasing coup by NBC, noticing that the weather was getting more viewers than traffic news, sports and entertainment. It is now the propaganda arm of America for voicing the catastrophe-hoax of human activity endangering life on earth.

Embedded in its ads for itself is the assurance that it is “the most trusted” source for weather. The implication being apparently that “all the other sources for weather” – whatever they are since there is only one weather channel – are suspect. Which tells me the Weather Channel is the only source for weather that’s actually suspect.

In addition to all the weather “reporters” on other venues routinely speaking about global warming as though it’s an ongoing human tragedy caused by humans, the Weather Channel creates hours and hours of specialty programming focusing exclusively on weather as it is affected by humans. We now affect the weather. Not the other way around. Weather is helpless against our mighty onslaughts against it.



184: GREENHOUSE GAS (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION)…… The destructive vapors of oil, coal and methane-use in machines and lungs. (ACTUAL DEFINITION)…….Two words assembled together in such a way as to put it into your head via relentless repetition by infinite human parrots including suddenly-genius first-graders, that earth is a man-made greenhouse, not a 4 billion year old mammoth amalgam of the entire periodic table.

That’s right, it’s just more fucking Marxism. The expression “greenhouse gasses” has been selected solely for the bizarre imagery that the phrase conjures: that the earth is not a successfully-self-operating monster of life-out-of-dirt, winding and wending its way through a galaxy of a billion stars and a trillion planets, no, it’s fucking a greenhouse: a big glass building with its already hot, wet, humid essence being further compromised by your car which is turning the earth into more of a place for lizards and spiders and plants that eat animals than it already is, and you are at fault because of your selfish need for “modern conveniences” while others die.

The “greenhouse gas” is proclaimed to be CO2. Even though CO2 is not a “greenhouse gas.” There is actually no such thing as a greenhouse gas. There is just CO2. CO2 is not a greenhouse gas. It’s just CO2. It’s never been…a greenhouse gas. It’s a CO2 gas. The expression “greenhouse gas” has also been selected via some random bureaucratic catastrophe-generator to be compiled into the New Weather Terminology of Death along with the sudden newly-appearing mysterious version of meteorology called “climate science.”

Meaning “the science you created and made necessary for us to investigate so that you don’t kill everybody.” Climate science. Greenhouse effect. Greenhouse gasses. Global warming. Attribution science. Gray swan climate event, Hotter. And hotter. Wetter. Droughtier. It’s a fucking mess.

Do you care??? No. You have electricity. So, YOU don’t care. (You’ll notice there is a worldwide sudden electricity problem in all the white countries.) You won’t stop stop using your air conditioner? We’ll shut off the power. You won’t stop driving your gas and diesel vehicles? We’ll outlaw oil. You’ll use our mandatory electricity vehicles. Which don’t work. We don’t care. We need you dead before you realize you don’t actually need us.

Eventually there will be something called “terrain science” that will explain why walking on the ground rather than just lying six feet beneath it as you should be is causing warts on the moon. Just like all the other things declared out of nowhere, claimed as fact and always suspiciously designed to handcuff human life, human happiness, human progress and discourage more cool stuff and to keep people glued to one spot.

Ya know, like Covid-19 successfully did.



190: EARTH (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION))……A fragile, delicately-balanced surface upon which we walk, sufficiently content to be a provider of endless arrays of life and pleasantness until humans intervened and who now threaten its very existence due to our voracious power and might and indifference to the effects and ruin we are imparting to it.

(ACTUAL DEFINITION)……A roaring engine of self-balancing physical laws which turned inanimate matter into self-reproducing life forms which multiply so fast and in more numbers than necessary in order to guarantee the continuance of life via random possibilities often pre-adapted to conditions that don’t yet exist should conditions change, in which we humans are one of the life forms.

We did not put Nature here. Nature put us here. Nature sets the rules. Not us. We discover the rules and use them to alleviate the threats Nature relentlessly presents in order to live more comfortably within Nature. We are not a threat to the earth. The earth is a potential, ongoing, indifferent, “doing its own thing” threat to us. Humans who are convinced they can affect or alter Nature are normally called “insane people.”



215: CLIMATE (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALIST DEFINITION)……Ten trillion cubic miles of atmospheric gasses encircling an entire planet that is controlled in movement and temperature by errant or conscientious behavior of a species of primate scattered randomly over a minute percentage of the surface, most of which members can’t control their dogs, much less the atmosphere.

(ACTUAL DEFINITION)……Invisible, transparent floating molecules and atoms circling the earth 100 miles thick, influenced entirely by the sun and gravity and planetary rotation and used as a respiratory agent by life forms on the planet surface, which in humans cannot be halted for more than two minutes or death occurs, leading one to conclude, if the concluder is not a fucking moron, that the climate controls us. Rather than us controlling it.



228: FOSSIL FUEL (cont) (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALISM DEFINITION)……Oil, coal and methane. (ACTUAL DEFINITION) ignitable carbon atoms that were never alive inside an animal or plant.



233: CARBON FOOTPRINT (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION)…… “A carbon footprint is the total amount of greenhouse gases (including carbon dioxide and methane) that are generated by our actions. The average carbon footprint for a person in the United States is 16 tons, one of the highest rates in the world. Globally, the average carbon footprint is closer to 4 tons. To have the best chance of avoiding a 2? rise in global temperatures, the average global carbon footprint per year needs to drop to under 2 tons by 2050. Lowering individual carbon footprints from 16 tons to 2 tons doesn’t happen overnight! By making small changes to our actions, like eating less meat, taking fewer connecting flights and line drying our clothes, we can start making a big difference.”_____The Nature Conservancy



235: EXISTENTIAL THREAT (cont) (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALIST DEFINITION)……Everything. (ACTUAL DEFINITION)…..A politically rampant utterance made primarily by liberals to declare something that isn’t an actual threat a threat. It’s a political lie in other words. The word “existential” is used to give it the cachet of “philosophy” since “Existentialism” – capital E – was hip at one time, a philosophical “outlook” on things rather than an actual philosophical system, that was a defeatist psychological go-to spirit of dealing with, basically, everything.


240:ATMOSPHERIC RIVER (cont) BUREAUCRAT /JOURNALIST DEFINITION……A terrifying and ominous new anomaly of global climate creating heretofore unprecedented chaos and woe caused by human-sourced co2 emissions.

end

No one can possibly ever know exactly when the first Harley-Davidson or Indian motorcycle became a custom chopper or bobbed street machine, but it is most likely that the stripped street bike trend started during the 1950s, at least that’s the most popular theoretical consensus.

Young, boisterous, motorcycle riding men who had recently returned from wartime duty in either the European Theatre or Pacific Theater were riding American war surplus machines that were both inexpensive and plentiful, those two adjectives almost always appearing in the same descriptive zone. Local small town motorcycle race tracks with dirt or clay surfaces attracted hundreds of thrill seeking spectators like flies to the proverbial dog poop, and those young men were eager and unafraid to risk their necks for a few dollars and small, dinky but shiny trophy on any weekend they weren’t required to be at their place of employment.

Most of the motorcycles competing in these local events were actually ridden to the racetrack in street form, then laboriously stripped of all unnecessary equipment. They were then ridden in competition rounds on dry dusty dirt tracks, only to have that same street equipment reinstalled for the ride home. My personal theory is that on many occasions that street equipment somehow did not get re-installed, with the owner rider deciding that the stripped (chopped or bobbed) version was just plain faster and more fun to ride without all that extra weight. Just a theory but it works for me.

The motorcycle seen here is a 1942 Harley-Davidson WLA was purchased sometime in the early part of this millennium. Historical facts about the origin of this machine are scarce, but I discovered this machine was purchased from an unknown seller who offered it for sale on E-Bay. That being said, it is not known who actually customized the motorcycle, but whoever did, seemed to want to emulate the kind of machine that would probably have been seen in the mid 1950s.

Take a long, studious look at this two-wheeler. If you’ve been riding motorcycles for more than 30 years you might just think, “that’s just a Harley-Davidson flathead 45. No power, I’d rather ride an overhead valve machine.” At least you might have thought that way back then. My mind-set was exactly like that 30 years ago when I was just starting my riding career. Times have changed and so has my thinking and opinion when it comes to two-wheeled things.

When I look at this motorcycle with my now somewhat experienced and mellowed riding perspective, I see a machine I would love to ride almost anywhere just for fun. At first glance it looks to be a genuine example of one of the early chopper, bobber motorcycles of the early 1950s, but a longer look reveals the modern electrical equipped installed contradicts that initial assessment.

This Harley-Davidson motorcycle is either a Chopper or Bobber depending upon your point of view. You say tomato, I say toe-motto. Bobber or chopper….I like it!

World War II surplus Harley-Davidson WLs and WLA model 45 cubic inch motorcycles were very reliable when not abused and when subjected to a regular maintenance routine including oil changes, tappet adjustments, and wheel/frame greasing routine.

The machine pictured here has had aluminum alloy cylinder heads installed, which results in a much cooler running motor when compared the standard cast iron cylinder heads. That rear wheel foot brake is mechanically actuated, as is the front brake (cable). A modern solid-state voltage regulator receives charging voltage from a late style two brush generator and delivers it to the battery. That tungsten filament headlight is OEM Harley-Davidson, no L.E.D. thingy here. An unmodified Harley-Davidson single down-tube rigid frame keeps everything organized. The three speed gear-box was/is standard with an optional 3-speed with reverse available for the three-wheeled 45 used by parking enforcement personnel of many municipal police departments. The foot clutch is of the “toe down engaged variety” whereas Indian motorcycles were exactly the opposite as stock being functioning as toe down disengaged units.

Harley-Davidson WLs were/are perfect for Black Hills South Dakota riding out on the miles and miles of unpaved county roads. The fat 5:00 X 16 wheels and tires have a large contact patch. The Springer front fork is perfect for dirt riding not being afflicted with the “sticktion” characteristics of a hydraulic-tube front ends. Smooth comfortable riding is supplied by that big butt tractor seat common to rigid frame machine as stock. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, that taillight is a Crocker manufactured component that looks awesome here, putting out plenty of light given the twelve conversion the electrical system has experienced.

This little Yellow Bobber sold for above $15,000 dollars at a recent Mecums auction. I considered this an astounding amount of money for a motorcycle that may have purchased for less than $50.00 when originally sold to the public. It is what it is, and the buyer here got his money’s worth.

If you’re looking to build a motorcycle resembling a vehicle of the late 1950s or early 1960s this may be a good machine to use a reference. Good luck in your search for early Harley-Davidson WLA or WL parts, they are becoming scarce as hens’ teeth!

U.S. Representative John Joyce (R-PA) along with more than sixty Republican cosponsors has introduced House Resolution 1435 “To amend the Clean Air Act to prevent the elimination of the sale of internal combustion engines.”

Titled the “Preserving Choice in Vehicle Purchases Act,” H.R. 1435 was introduced March 8 and is designed to protect Americans’ right to choose the technology that powers their motor vehicles, and the measure was introduced in response to the California Air Resources Board’s (CARB) plans to ban the sale of new internal combustion engine (ICE) vehicles by 2035. The Preserving Choice in Vehicle Purchases Act would restrict the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) from issuing any waiver for new regulations that would ban the sale or use of new motor vehicles with internal combustion engines (ICEs).

The bill follows action in August 2022 by CARB which approved new requirements on automakers that would effectively ban the sale of new ICE cars and light trucks by 2035 in favor of so-called zero-emission vehicles, like plug-in hybrid, full battery-electric, and hydrogen fuel cell vehicles.

Lawmakers supporting H.R. 1435 say it is important that the EPA does not permit CARB’s ZEV (zero emissions vehicle) mandate to take effect, as it could lead to 17 other states that have followed all or part of California’s previous clean-car rules adopting similar proposals.

EU LAWMAKERS APPROVE 2035 BAN ON NEW FOSSIL FUEL VEHICLES
The European Parliament has formally approved a law to effectively ban the sale of new petrol and diesel cars in the European Union from 2035, aiming to speed up the switch to electric vehicles and combat climate change.

The landmark rules will require that by 2035 carmakers must achieve a 100% cut in CO2 emissions from new cars sold, which would make it impossible to sell new fossil fuel-powered vehicles in the 27-country bloc.

EU countries agreed to the deal with lawmakers last October, but still need to formally rubber stamp the rules before they can take effect. Final approval is expected soon.

The car CO2 law is part a broader package of tougher EU climate policies, designed to deliver the bloc’s targets to slash greenhouse gas emissions this decade.

 

STATES CONSIDER ANTI-PROFILING, LANE SPLITTING AND HELMET LAWS
Legislatures are a hotbed of pro-motorcycle activity from coast to coast, with many states considering laws to prohibit anti-biker profiling by law enforcement, allow motorcyclists to filter between traffic lanes, and doff the lids.

Tennessee, for example, has two such legislative efforts: SB 1450 would create a four-year pilot program excluding adults 21 and older from wearing a helmet unless they are insured under the state’s Medicaid program (companion bill HB 0042 failed in House subcommittee); and companion bills HB 1454 and SB 0298 which “authorizes two-wheeled motorcycles to be operated between rows of stopped or moving vehicles in the same lane on certain limited access highways and interstate highways when the speed of traffic is 25 miles per hour or less.”

For most riders in the U.S., lane splitting is considered illegal, but more and more are considering legislation that re-examines the scope and possibilities of such maneuvers, such as Colorado’s HB 23-1059 that seeks to fund a feasibility study to determine what a safe lane splitting law for Coloradans might look like.

The bill is titled “A Bill for an Act Concerning Studying Permitting Motorcycles to Drive Around Motor Vehicles Traveling in the Same Direction” and, if passed, the study would be conducted jointly by the Colorado Department of Transportation and the Colorado State Patrol.

A new lane filtering bill is under consideration in Oregon again in 2023, and the text of SB 422 is substantively identical to a broadly bipartisan bill that was passed in 2021 to allow riders to operate between lanes of slow-moving traffic on a highway, but that bill was vetoed by then-governor Kate Brown. The biggest difference between then and now, is newly-elected Governor Tina Kotek, although she has not stated her position.

Lane splitting would still not be allowed in Missouri, but low-speed lane filtering in certain situations would be fine if HB 1046 passes. According to the legislative language, lane filtering “between rows of slow-moving vehicles” would be allowed within the state, but lane splitting between fast-moving traffic would not.

The introduction of this bill comes about two and a half years following the repeal of Missouri’s state helmet law. Nebraska has hopes of becoming the 32nd state with partial or no helmet laws, with the introduction of Legislative Bill 91 on January 5, 2023, which would exempt riders 21 or older who have passed an approved rider training course.

Meanwhile, bills to restrict the profiling of motorcycle riders by police are under consideration in Oklahoma (HB 2426), Kansas (SB 108), Missouri (SCR 3) and Texas (SB 616).

BANISHING KIDS FROM MOTORCYCLES
While some states require that a passenger’s feet touch the footpegs in order to legally ride on the back of a motorcycle, indicating adequate physical stature, New York and Georgia are attempting to take it a step further by restricting passengers by a minimum age.

A2690 in New York would “Prohibit children under the age of twelve from riding on a motorcycle,” while SB71 in Georgia states; “Manner of Riding Motorcycle; motorcycle passengers shall be no younger than 16 years of age,” and both bills have been referred to their respective committees where staunch opposition can be expected from rider groups.

 

ITALY TO LIMIT VEHICLE ACCESS PRIOR TO OLYMPICS
In 2026, Italy will host the 25th Winter Olympics, and with activities planned throughout the surrounding areas, the Italian government has kicked its Olympic preparations into overdrive with initiatives like the “Dolomites Low Emission Zone”, which stands to limit access to the mountainous region starting in 2024.

Under the proposal, aimed at “Lowering noise and carbon emissions prior to the 2026 Winter Olympics,” authorities would limit access to the Dolomite Mountains by instituting a reservation system to reach the passes by vehicle.

A government official told a German media outlet, “We want less noise, we want fewer emissions and that requires a new legal construct.”

While the local governments already got the ball rolling, the plan requires approval from federal ministries in Rome before moving forward. If approved, Italy could institute a vehicular quota for the Dolomites region with aims to “exclude particularly noisy vehicles and to set and comply with a maximum volume of traffic.”

Though officials cite the Milano Cortina Olympic Games as the initiative’s driving force, they also hope that the Dolomites Low Emission Zone has a lasting impact.

 

FRANCE PROHIBITS EV “GREENWASHING”
While EVs may represent the future of mobility, most electric automobiles, motorcycles, and e-scooters can’t fully stand by their zero-emissions claims, and for now, in France at least, manufacturers can no longer claim carbon neutrality if their production and recharging processes emit greenhouse gases.

Nearly all electric-powered vehicles produce no greenhouse gases directly, however, many mining and manufacturing processes emit CO2. The same goes for EV charging, which doesn’t draw from electric sources exclusively. Many EV naysayers cling to this conundrum as an argument against the imminent transition, but many OEMs can no longer make these claims in France. Instituted on January 1, 2023, the new law prohibits manufacturers from claiming a vehicle is carbon neutral if the same can’t be said of its production or recharging stages.

Up to this point, the country has championed EV-promoting bills, but the latest bill takes aim at the advertisement practices adopted by many electric mobility brands. Under Article L229-68, a company cannot claim that a product is carbon neutral unless it provides substantiation, and should an OEM maintain greenwashing verbiage in its advertising without the aforementioned proof, authorities have the right to fine the legal entity €100,000 ($105,500 USD) to ensure their customers are not duped.

 

TAYTAY INSTITUTES “NO HELMET POLICY”
The former Kingdom of Taytay in the Philippines has enacted an executive order forbidding riders from wearing helmets.

Back in 2009, Republic Act 10054, or the Motorcycle Helmet Act was signed into law in the Philippines, mandating all motorcycle riders, as well as their pillion (passengers), to wear a safety helmet designed specifically for motorcycle riding. But this year, Mayor Allan De Leon signed Executive Order (EO) No. 62, Series of 2023, which now “prohibits motorcycle riders, as well as their pillion, from wearing their safety helmets, masks, and similar objects while riding on municipal and barangay roads within the territorial jurisdiction of Taytay.”

The new law was enacted in response to the rising incidents involving “unknown motorcycle driving assailants” who “carry out crimes and escape arrest from police authorities,” and authorizes deputized enforcers to require riders and their pillions to remove their helmets, balaclava, or similar face covering while riding on city streets.

Motorcycle Rights Organization (MRO), slammed Taytay’s new rule, calling it “another knee-jerk legislation” that compromises the safety of motorcycle riders and their pillions. “Our lawmakers need to learn how to do research and study fair legislation before they even try to make the rules,” said Jobert Bolanos of MRO.

WORLD’S LARGEST CUSTOM MOTORCYCLE SHOW A HUGE HIT
“The Success of Motor Bike Expo 2023 Will Be Remembered,” say organizers of the ‘world’s largest custom motorcycle show’ reporting an attendance of 160,000 people and showcasing 720 companies from 35 different countries spread out over 100,000 square meters of indoor/outdoor exhibition space!

This homage to our industry also used 7 pavilions, 5 outdoor areas, and hosted breathtaking shows with “hundreds of demo rides, more than 100 scheduled events and more than 3,000 motorbikes on display.”

Motor Bike Expo is “a trade fair that focuses on motorcyclists and the use of motorcycle components, accessories, clothing [and more],” held annually in Verona, Italy.

 

NCOM CONVENTION RISES IN PHOENIX
The 38th annual NCOM Convention is coming soon, so plan now on being part of one of the largest gatherings of bikers’ rights activists in the world. To be held over Father’s Day weekend, June 16-18, 2023 at the Hilton Phoenix-Tempe, located at 2100 S. Priest Dr., in Tempe, Arizona, the National Coalition of Motorcyclists (NCOM) welcomes all motorcyclists to the “Valley of the Sun” for a convention of ideas on how to address issues of common concern.

Concerned riders are encouraged to attend and participate in the many meetings, seminars and group discussions that will focus on legislative efforts and litigation techniques to protect our riders’ rights and preserve Freedom of the Road. Agenda items will cover legal and legislative issues, with Special Meetings for Veterans Affairs, Women in Motorcycling, Clean & Sober Roundtable and World of Sport Bikes, as well as the Christian Unity Conference and Confederation of Clubs Patch Holders Meeting.

QUOTABLE QUOTE:

“We only have to look at ourselves to see how intelligent life might develop into something we wouldn’t want to meet.”

 

~ Stephen Hawking (1942-2018), Theoretical Physicist & Cosmologist 

 

The Tropical Tattoo Old School Chopper Time Ride-In Bike Show is definitely the place to be on Thursday of Bike Week.

Bikernet has been attending and promoting this event for a very long time because it keeps getting better and bigger.

 It is just a really cool place to be, the bike show has 26 classes and some wild handmade trophies and goody bags to go to all winners.

 This year’s Winners Are:

Perewitz Paint Award    Kenny MacDonald

 

Best Knucklehead           Jeff Grabau

 

 

Tino’s Choice                   Joe Shahady

 

Best Shovel                      Tommy Joslin

Best Evo                            John Siweckyj

Tropical Tattoo Choice     Brock Bridges

Best Sportster                  Daniel Heman

Roadside’s Choice           Zach Gostelli

Best Paint                         Gusher Cycles

Best Chopper                   Derek Spitsnogle

Best Bobber                     Rich Ruck

Tarball Choice                  Endless Phil

Bling’s Choice                  Eric Allard

 

 

 Cycle Source Choice       Garry Cutis

 Best Metric/Gorilla Pro Jeff Hartley

 Willie’s Choice                 Mr. California

Ed Kerr’s Choice              Warren Lane

Crowd Favorite                Myles Harris

 

Best Rat Bike                    PT Jungerman

 

Best Panhead                  Panhead Bob

 

Best Flathead                   George Casale

 

Eye Catchers in the show

 Now, while the Bike Show is going on out front there’s good food, beverages and music going on out back and on the sides of the building.

 

The other part of what people come to see is Roadside Marty and the Awards Ceremony. Roadside is an Old Friend, and I really enjoy watching him being humorous to the audience when he comments on the motorcycles and their owners between trying to get women to change into the t-shirts he and the group are giving out. I have seen it happen in the past but only got a quick flash this year.

 

https://veteranssupportfund.org/

 While it’s all happening and people are having a great time, there’s a reason for this event. It’s all about raising money to Help Our Veterans. All Profits go to the Veterans Support Fund!

I’m facing a number of challenges. I’ve also faced some pressure lately and I don’t like to associate pressure or stress with building motorcycles. Hell, I moved to motorcycle Nirvana in the Black Hills to duck the bullshit California riders face daily.

I thought I could just tinker in the shop in Sturgis for hours unencumbered, without anxiety or worry, especially in the winter. I don’t have a deadline for this bike, what gives? Hell, I don’t know. I started to lean on myself to get shit done, so that’s why I’m writing about it, so I face the music and stop. Okay, did it work? We’ll see. Here’s a thought from our Mindfulness Master in Australia:

Encouraging people to adopt a growth mindset, practice mindfulness, and build a support system can be effective ways to help them build their resilience and ability to handle stress.

A growth mindset is the belief that one’s abilities and intelligence can be developed and improved through dedication and hard work. By encouraging people to adopt a growth mindset, they are more likely to view challenges and setbacks as opportunities for growth and learning, rather than as personal failures.

This can help them develop a more positive outlook on life and increase their resilience in the face of adversity.

Irish Rich came over and suggested that I run a Sportster headlight and it just happens I dug one out of my headlight box. I’m using my Smithy Lathed more every week and my new Vulcan TIG welder. The bracket for the headlight caused me to use multiple shop tools from cut-off wheels, grinders, lathe, TIG, you name it.

A neighbor came by with an old taillight and I pondered mounting it to the sissybar or the fender. I was able to mount it to the fender after brazing to fixed the cracked body and then heating and bending. Irish Rich recommended using a Radiantz LED insert for the taillight, brake light. They are supposedly indestructible. So far they are out of stock, but I’m working with them.

I used a portion of the original front fender strap for mounting the fender to the sissybar. I still can’t mount the fender to the frame or sissybar until the driveline is aligned, but we’re getting close.

I made a front, under-the-seat,  fender mounting tab and spent hours on it. Now it looks like I won’t be using it. Actually, that’s okay. The newer version will be improved. I now have all the pieces and tools to make my copper and brass oil tank, and I needed to move that bracket.

I also made a seat tab and swivel for the front of the seat. I’m trying to use as many mechanical pieces as possible for an old machinery vibe. I made the rear mounting and spring system using a set of Panhead valve springs for suspension. I moved the seat back almost 4 inches for my tall self. Again, I wasn’t happy with some elements of the spring and support tab. I tossed it and started over. Same system but different components.

John M. came over and we tinkered with the pipes after we installed a mock-up Transmission. The pipes are very quirky. I can’t decide if I like them or not. The other issues include the foot controls and rider pegs.

I milled my crossover line and made progress, then decided to move everything forward several inches. I had a plan to avoid attaching anything other than the regulator to the front motor-mount to keep the single-loop VL frame as clean as possible.

I came up with a goofy strategy for the rear brake using old crank tools. This uses the cross-over tube and I made the linkage and pedal mechanism. The pedal will be behind the riding peg. It will take some getting used to, but it may be more convenient.

I came up with an alternate plan for mounting the rider pegs so they come out close to the center of the engine, but it took moving the engine. First, I removed the tacked-together pipes. With the Redhead’s help, I was able to rock the engine over and drop a couple of 3/8 bolts, ¾-inch long through two holes in the frame plate under the engine. I made a ¼-inch thick peg mounting plate and tack welded the 5/8-inch solid square stock rod to the plate. It worked, but I may need to adjust it.

I also feel a rider must be able to stand on his pegs in an emergency situation. I’m looking for additional support for the rider peg mounting.

Relax and enjoy the build I say to myself, and in many respects, this is a fun one. I have a plan for the paint, which I’m excited about. and I’m trying to make everything with unique products, more industry and less custom stuff including the kickstand.

I bought a weld-on bracket. It takes a ‘74 to ‘90 Sportster kickstand and spring. It’s way more expensive than a custom job, but it’s also way more mechanical and classic.

Paughco is shipping a stock replacement tool box strap and some pieces that might help with the pegs. I’m going to use a Paughco sparkplug holder for my ignition switch and circuit breaker housing. I’m going to make the battery box from a Harley side cover and mount it to the tool box strap.

I’m going to add leather tooling to the seat, leather straps to hold the oil tank and a leather engraved top to the battery from Dime Bag or Adam Croft leather works.

When I’m hanging with Hamsters and other builders the subject of unfinished builds comes up constantly. We talk about all the chopper dreams that don’t come to fruition. Whether it’s mental, resources, relationship, financial or baby obstacles, anything can be overcome and dreams do come true.

Maybe it takes a little longer or we need to save up some coin or find a used part. Maybe you need to find a more receptive old lady. Whatever the issues there’s an entire industry of guys and gals out there who want to help you make your chopper dream come true, so relax and make it happen.

Goddammit, this puppy is going to be cool or I’ll die trying, right. Hang on for the next episode.

Sources:

Atomic Dice

Clausen’s Machine Shop
Spearfish, SD

Dakota V-Twin
Spearfish, SD
www.dakotavtwin.com

JIMS Machine

McMaster Carr
www.mcmastercarr.com

Paughco

Shamrocks Customs
Sturgis, SD

S&S

Terry Components
Check on J&P Cycles

Nash Motorcycles

Colony

Black Bike Wheels
www.blackbikewheels.com

Barnett’s clutch and cable

Motorcycles were supposedlythe entry-level vehicles. So much more affordable than cars and people had tolearn how to drive a car. Whereas, people already knew how to balancethemselves on a bicycle –which now had an engine added to it.

Times change, and so doesfortunes of companies and global customers. Also, it is interesting to notethat two-wheel training might be so ignored in developed nations that Striderand All Kids Bike together offer and promote a national physical education programto teach kindergarten kids how to ride a bicycle.

Meanwhile, in developingnations in Asia and Eastern Europe, as well as parts of Africa, per capitaincome of citizens are rising. Hence, they are aspiring to buy their first carand relegate motorized two-wheelers to their low-income colleagues andneighbours. Car is a matter of prestige in many such cultures and the Westernconcept of class divide enters subtly into the socio-economic mix. At the sametime, a kid with a bicycle is considered a son or daughter of financiallyprivileged families.

Most adults cycling theredaily are the ones having no means to transport goods or deliver food tocustomers who have ordered it from local restaurants –by phone call and nowapps as well. On Sundays, the elite adults, young and old can be seen on theexpensive (and luxurious really) geared bicycles on highways for ‘exercise’. So,with their cars parked securely, they venture out in the early morning to getsome fitness with finesse after a work week in an enclosed office.

Yet, as always, motorcyclesand scooters are a big part of the life of salaried people in Asia and Africa.If not for commuting to an office, then to ship goods and food and transportpeople as well. Yes, Uber and some other similar apps were briefly allowed bymany cities to have paid passengers as pillion riders. By offering two-wheeledtransport, these apps were able to add or retain users –because car travel isof course expensive on Uber which depends on changing global fuel prices plusrush hour demand pricing. Motorcycles and Scooters made the app affordable.

Unfortunately, the idiots whobecame the riders and the snob-nosed citizens who became their pillionpassengers did not follow traffic norms. Many cities banned two-wheelerapp-based taxis. The riders were found riding rashly and even dangerously tocomplete minimum 8 to 10 trips per day for a decent income. The pillionsrefused to wear helmets worn by other passengers nor did they bring their ownhelmets while hiring such a service.

While on the subject matter,a timely movie has been made and released on this ridiculous concept ofGig-Economy where everyone except the company’s founder-owners andangel-investor make money and find joy in it. They are not legally liable forwrongdoings of their gig-partners, namely the people who drive you or deliveryour stuff, because those partners are not employees, they are ’partners’(strangely, without any perks or equity in the firm except their own vehicle& life). Watch out for the movie titled ‘Zwigato’ released in March 2023.

IMDB: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt21998526/

The film debuted in theToronto Worldwide Film Celebration, 2022. It is not so subtly named andreferences the two popular food delivery apps in India, namely, Swiggy andZomato.

Watch Official Trailer at: https://youtu.be/RCMxX6lWJcY

On the extreme end ofmotorcycling, NCOM and Bikernet reported how an African nation bannedmotorcycles because – bandits !!!

No! Not our resident rulingEmperor of Bikernet Empire Keith ‘Bandit’ Ball, but actual dacoits were raidingvillages and towns and looting people & businesses, as if it was Old WildWest with jungle law. It would make a decent spaghetti western movie if not adocumentary. 

Niger, Nigeria and Ethiopiaare nations mentioned in international news as having raiders on motorcyclesplundering in various parts of the respective nations. These are not largeV-Twins. They are light and fast motorcycles that are commonly seen (and stolen)in developing nations.

Refer: “Nigeria — the sixth most populous nation in world –is set to ban the use and sale of all motorcycles in an effort to hamper theactions of terrorist ‘bandits.’”

https://www.bikernet.com/pages/NCOM_Biker_Newsbytes_for_September_2022.aspx

 

Refer: Electric Motorcycles to help in WildlifeProtection

https://blog.bikernet.com/electric-motorcycles-to-help-in-wildlife-protection/

Suddenly, as motorcyclemagazines disappeared, among global gloom and environ-‘mental’ doom, there wasa revival of Polaris-Indian Motorcycle Company, turnaround of Harley-Davidson (onpaper?) through Jochen Zeitz’ ‘The Hardwire’ five-year strategic plan(2021-2025) and of course the gigantic growth in leaps & bounds of EicherRoyal Enfield motorcycles spreading its authorized dealerships in UK, USA &entering flat track racing under AMA.

Just as the world wasrecognising the perks of weekend motorcycle getaways and big V-Twin engines,there was also economic collapse, trade tariff wars and then the curse of theclimate. Everyone complained about the weather and then somebody actually didsomething about it. Like all solutions, the proposal was a ban. No more fossilfuels. No more emissions. No more manufacturing. No more custom aftermarketchops. No more accidents.

It’s a New Age. The Age ofZero (actually everything digital and in binary, 0s and 1s).

The March 2023 NCOM Newsbyteshas an interesting insight on how governments who were so dandy about ParisClimate Accords, may be realising its just another money-making scam byinvestors and bankers.

Bill Bish Reports on NCOMnewsbytes: “Instituted on January 1, 2023, the new law prohibits manufacturersfrom claiming a vehicle is carbon neutral (in France) if the same can’t be saidof its production or recharging stages.”

 

If entire gamut ofmedications and vaccines needs mandatory laboratory trial and testing beforebeing sold – and that too with prescription of a qualified medical practitioner– then it is insane to just grab the opposite pole and ask the world to join innude and carefree!!!

 

Internet of Things (IoT) isnot a cool fancy freebie that enables you. It disables you and all your choicesand decisions, for the rest of your life.

Customers buy and own theelectric vehicle. Yet he can’t repair it himself or at a local garage. He can’tadd, modify or remove stuff. Hell, he has a tough time reading the dashboard asif it was one of those ancient VCRs on which you needed a bunch of friends,neighbours and your kids’ help to record your favourite TV show.

If large battery consumptionis as bad as large SUVs, then maybe motorcycles and scooters are the solutionagain? Only, they won’t be the proud big V-Twins. They will look more similarto the world-record holding bestseller of all time, The Honda Supercub. 100ccto 150cc motorcycles and scooters and even mopeds are making a comeback.

Lostyour car to the repo man from the bank? Hey, they will issue you credit forbuying a motorcycle instead. Very affordable. Won’t cost you a lung & a kidney!Not comfortable using clutch and gears? Hey, the automatic geared scooters aremeant for you.

People even add a sidecar totheir scooter and that works like a charm. In fact, in India, you will rarelysee a sidecar on a motorcycle. They are all attached to the all-timebestselling scooter model, the family-friendly Honda Activa (150cc engine).

Carry yourself or carryluggage. ‘Two-wheeled trucks in another part of the world!’

Refer: https://www.bikernet.com/pages/TwoWheeled_Trucks.aspx

Enfield never really went outof business (‘technically?’) because even though the UK company closeddown, their licensed business in India thrived – with orders from military andpolice – and then civilians who liked to look macho on ‘bigger’, heavier bikes.

BMW decided to promote 310ccengines in Asia and it has had great success in its partnership with TVS Motorsin this ‘relatively’ small capacity motorbikes market. It’s the mostpopular entry-level sports-tourer.

For racing fans there is theKTM Duke 390 and its variants because Honda, Yamaha, Suzuki aim at commuters inthese markets with 100cc to 150cc variants. Even with racing colours, theJapanese bikes are not fooling anyone about the performance of these lame horsewithout power. It does not bother the Japanese brands because they want thevolume sales and they get it as easy as eating pie (or sushi). Bajaj is havingconsistent high volume sales by manufacturing KTM bikes.

Meanwhile, Mahindra group haspurchased rights to the brands BSA, Jawa and Yezdi. Already, Jawa Forty-Twomodel is popular and eye-catching with a twin-exhaust for a 290 cc engine.Yezdi Roadster however cannot seem to beat Enfield’s classic styling and brandvalue.

TVS purchased Norton brandsoon after Mahindra grabbed BSA but neither of them have realized lot of salesand maybe they don’t mass-produce these motorcycles because the demand just doesn’texist. Both BSA and Norton were to be big engine bikes to take onHarley-Davidson and Polaris Indian – but the world decided to pour cold wateron ICE engines.

Polaris shocked Americans byaxing Victory motorcycles and then surprised the world by successfully revivingIndian Motorcycle Co. They are also not too keen to compete withHarley-Davidson on small capacity engines. Harley-Davidson, after dancingaround in the shadows with manufacturing in Thailand and having assembly plantssometimes for completely built-up units (CBU) or for completely knockdown units(CKD) – then closing down offices & showrooms in many nations in 2020, notbecause of COVID but because of super-turnaround plan of CEO Jochen Zeitz – nowhas surprised one-and-all by releasing Benelli 350 cc engine motorcycles madeby QJ Motors of China having the label ‘Harley-Davidson X350’.

Apart from the money and thename, probably nothing American is in that X350 bike! Most likely, even themoney is from the Chinese partner, to sustain the brand name that has beenthrough enough stress in 120 years to suffer this on its anniversary.

Clearly, volume sales matterin automotive industry unless you are as exclusive as Lamborghini or a Bugattiluxury cars who consider it a grand success if they sell just 80 units in afinancial / calendar year.

To remain relevant to bothinvestor, employee, dealer and loyal customer, Harley-Davidson decided to sell‘franchises’ – like a burger joint to boost revenue. That’s what the deal with QJMotors looks like; that’s what the deal with Hero MotoCorp looks like – callinga spade a paid tool for digging your own grave.

Why not make a manufacturing oran assembly base in a few strategic stable locations and use that to sell morewhile retaining the century-old trust.

Yet, that is just thebeginning. Mature markets have plenty of demand for customization ofmotorcycles. Developing nations need other support such as a non-dealermechanic (just like your local garage / shop) who are more affordable, second-handpurchase legality, mandatory and optional accessories such as helmets,pollution control certificate, panniers and carriers for moving goods.

However, Harley-Davidsonchose a different option to go big.

They reduced their globalfootprint to focus on economically prosperous and mature markets. Hence byleaving some nations and selling their brand name to earn a buck – they havemanaged to cutdown their corporate financial liabilities & expenses &corporate governance issues –this small sizing made them bigger on a revenuegraph.

Here is an analogy. Imagineit this way – you have a large garden and you go around watering, controllingpests and caring for multiple fruit trees and flowering plants. They all givedifferent outputs at different times. Then, your Dad comes to visit and tellsyou how much time and energy you are wasting for an occasional fruit andflower. ‘Just work hard at your one job and business and you can just buy therarely usable flower or fruit of choice,’ he says. So your Dad and yourselfchop of all but one productive tree and plant. You sell the seeds from that andeat the fruits all for yourself. Now you do more with less!

Besides, Chinesemanufacturers were already ripping off so many designs from Harley-Davidson. It’sjust better to earn a few pennies and give one company over there the right tomake & sell Harley-Davidson bikes.

https://blog.bikernet.com/knock-off-motofino-streetboy-v-maxter-300-looks-eerily-familiar/

Triumph is one true-blue-bloodBritish brand which has made a strategic and technical comeback of allcomebacks. It’s like the sudden new found success with a blonde James Bond.With a new British owner, Triumph slowly but steadily proved its mettle inengines, chassis, modern technology, manufacturing and then spreading itsmushrooming showrooms globally. Whether it is the classic styling of itsBonneville brand or the huge power of Triumph Rocket 3 and the racing capacityof Speed Triple 1200 and off-road capability of Tiger 900 adventuresports-tourer – it has ‘triumphed’ on all requirements of its customers.

Triumph already noticed thegrowing global demand for middle-weight segment motorcycles being filled fastby Royal Enfield. They launched Triumph Trident 660 and then Tiger Sport 660 toslow down Enfield’s 650cc parallel twin-engine demand. It has been reportedrepeatedly that Triumph is partnering with Bajaj to release a smaller-capacitymotorcycle to take on Enfield’s dominance in middle-weight sub-750ccmotorcycles. Bajaj’s ‘Dominar’ brand, ridiculing Enfield as slow clumsyelephants, had flopped, failing to generate interest among long-distanceriders.

In turn, Enfield launchedmany variants of its top-selling Enfield Classic 350cc, Std Bullet 350cc,introduced Hunter 350 for city cruising, Scram 411 scrambler, terminated allits 500cc engine models to force owners to go for better designed 650cc engineson 1960s cool ‘Interceptor’ and the café racer ‘Continental GT’ models. Enfieldlaunched Meteor 350cc to replace their popular cruiser Enfield Thunderbirdwhich was axed from their line-up. Lately, they challenged the big boys withtheir best ever technical production and their most comfortable highway cruiseroffering – the Super Meteor 650cc. Never has there been a more expensivemotorcycle from Enfield than this Super Meteor parallel twin engine with threeprominent variants – Astral, Interstellar and Celestial.

What’s in store for gearheadsand motorcyclists? The new Age of Zero means you live with zero rights and zeroprivacy and zero wealth. You already pay for bottled drinking water. Maybe payingfor clean air is next. There are cities that already tax people if they bring afour-wheeler into the city – ‘traffic tax’. Paper currency causes deforestationbecause nations and banks just keep on printing them since metal coins arecostlier than the denomination embossed on them. You would be forced to bedigital in everything. Maybe in that futuristic world, you or your descendantswould have no use for money since bots (similar to Facebook & Google bots)tell you what you deserve on your smart couch / chair. An ‘electric’ chair!

We ain’t taking much into ourgraves. Let there be a few smiles and gratitude while reaching there. So, enjoythese two-wheeled beauties while they last. Even a Harley-Davidson Sportsterhas a much smaller carbon footprint than any American car owner’s car or SUV. Ifelectric is the solution, then let the customers and dealers realise itnaturally instead of an emergency enforcement like a bat out of Wuhan.

(Maybe then, if a flowergrows from your buried dead body, your grandkids could get some ‘royalty income’from its sale. Pray for an apple tree or something more prosperous to ‘grow’ onyou as your inheritance.)

I like the quote “Peopledon’t change when they have a choice. They change when there is no choice”.

Learning and educating is thekey to any acceptance of change. Education includes debate and research. True,we have only one planet. Yet we have a shocking range of experiences withelectric vehicles in such a short time. Clearly ICE engine vehicles arethousand times more refined than any existing EV. They have undergone a centuryof progress and usage and testing. Without enough pilot period time and phasedintroduction in infrastructure ready cities, these EVs would cause wastage ofeven more natural resources and that too in a record shorter period of time.

Instead of global warming,the term should be ‘global warning’. Haste makes waste. Ride easy! If you ride,feel proud. You use less resources, own less and are already a zero liabilityperson. LOL !

 

 

Bruno rode his performance Sportster hard along the Angeles Crest Highway daring sport bike guys to race him. He pushed himself to the brink of losing it over sheer cliffs or slamming into unforgiving rock walls. He refueled in Wrightwood a sleepy little mountain town just elevated enough to support pine trees.

He ate a greasy dinner in a dive café sporting stools made from hubcaps and tuck-and-roll booths. He stared at his chipped ceramic cup and pondered his life. He didn’t like what raced through his mind. The big question was what the hell was he going to do now? He kept riding and thinking.

While in the service he studied martial arts and close- quarters combat. Fit, young and agile, he trained, lifted weights and took care of himself. But after his girl left him while he was out of the country, he lost hope. He gained weight, started smoking and let himself go. His only joy was his hot rod Sportster, which he tuned, maintained and worked to increase the horsepower with cams and enhanced the handling with performance shocks, the best tires and tunable forks. Perhaps riddled with a death wish, he kept pushing the motorcycle and himself, as if one wrong move and all his troubles would be toast.

A couple of days passed and Diego called. “What gives?”

“I don’t know what to do, bro?” Bruno said.

“The girl is cool, we like her,” Diego said. “But we can’t keep her forever. Are you still living in your shop?”

“Yep,” Bruno said. “I need to work this week and I’ll get you some funds. Let’s meet at the long Beach Swap Meet this weekend.”

“Work on a plan,” Diego said and hung up.

The emotional pressure grew. He didn’t have a plan for himself, let alone Sheila and her child to be. He worked hard all week in one of the last remaining machine shops on signal hill and questioned every aspect of his life. Friday, he got paid and cashed his check.

Sunday, he crawled out of the cot he made and slept on, scrambled to make coffee and hit the road to the swap meet at the crack of dawn. He wanted to arrive while the vendors set up their booths and Diego was a regular, hauling motorcycle parts from the desert to sell in the city.

Bruno parked his glistening Sportster. It looked as good as it ran all metallic and chrome. He wandered through the swap buzzing in concert, like a hive of bees, brothers and sisters unloading their vehicles and arranging their wares in enticing forms.

Diego unloaded his rusting red ’55 Chevy truck set up a tent, and a long plastic fold-up table, while his wife, Maria, as cute as a shiny brass button covered the table with a black velvet cloth. She arranged hand-tooled leather wallets made by her desert connection. Sheila helped out, anyway she could, setting up folding chairs and getting coffee for the crew. She made little cheesy quesadillas to supply them with energy as the sun filled the morning air and they sensed a blistering day on the coast coming.

Bruno approached their designated spot. Diego always had the same corner location on the massive asphalt lot, marked with dusty chalk. “Que paso, amigo,” Bruno said to Diego who looked up from his ongoing task. Then Bruno’s green eyes connected with Sheila’s. Something magnetic passed between the two and she grabbed the table edge and pulled herself to her feet.

Bruno hurried to her side and they embraced and held tight for a long moment. He felt a connection he hadn’t felt in several years. He slipped Diego a wad of cash.

“Is there hope,” Sheila whispered in Bruno’s ear and kissed his cheek.

Bruno stared down at the warming asphalt at his feet and crushed a cigarette butt. It spoke to him of his life and he struggled to raise his eyes to meet hers. Her dark eyes were full of hope, sincerity and love for her growing child.

“If it isn’t Puto and the whore,” Pablo said and pushed Bruno away from the girl. He had his two soldiers at his side while he sported his full club regalia, including leather etched gauntlets running up his massive forearms with chromed buttons emblazed in the trim. His leather vest with fringe was tied in the center over his exposed chest. His hair was especially frizzed from the ride and his mustache looked like daggers pointing out from the corners of his mouth. He snarled in true outlaw form.

Bruno corrected himself. “Do you have the grand?” He asked directly.

Pablo snatched the laced leather riding crop hanging from his right hand and slashed it across Bruno’s face. “I told you muthafucker. We are not paying you shit.” He made a gesture to his lieutenants and they grabbed Bruno’s arms. Other members approached and beat Bruno unmercifully until his bloody bod lay on the pavement being boot-kicked and beat with bats.

Pablo took this as an opportunity to demonstrate the club’s street power to the locals. They punched and whipped Bruno, picked him up and shoved him to the front gate and then threw him out. “Comancheros Forever,” they shouted intimidating the crowd. Outside the gate Bruno reached from the sticky blood-spattered asphalt to the chain-link fence with a bloody hand sporting a freshly broken finger and tugged himself to his knees flipping off the club with his other index finger. “You motherfuckers owe me a grand,” he shouted.

He fell to the pavement, his face scattered with swelling bruises and lacerations.

The white Comanchero prez and another group of members approached Diego’s booth. He sneered at Sheila. “You shouldn’t have come around,” He leered at her and Diego approached.

“Keep your asshole buddy away from my club,” the prez said and spit on the warm asphalt. He nodded to one of his gang. The member stepped forward and drove a baseball bat into Diego’s gut. Diego folded in pain and dropped to his knees. His wife Maria ran to his side.

She helped Diego to his feet. Diego had a rough past, but his Latino heritage didn’t offer him bulk or size. Skinny as a rail he stood and his eyes lifted until he stared at the club prez, with dark eyes to the prez’s baby blue irises. “Why, are you afraid?” He said and ground he teeth. Another bat smacked him in the shoulder. Severe pain sliced through his body as he grabbed a tent corner post to catch his fall.

Maria grabbed him and pulled him away, “That’s enough, Diego.”

The members moved away pushing and barking at onlookers and threatening them with metal bats.

Bruno laid on the asphalt bleeding with a broken finger, bloody nose and a cracked rib. A stout Pilipino man knelt beside him and shoved a card in his flannel pocket. “You need to come to my dojo,” Sifu said and looked him over.

Later, in the afternoon Pablo returned to Diego’s booth. His thugs surrounded the area and picked at products and motorcycle parts in an intimidating manner. Pablo stepped around members and stood twisting one of his long black, mustache tenacles while sneering at Sheila. He grabbed one of Diego’s cards. “We’re coming for all of you.”

Three days later still bruised and bandaged, Bruno pulled up to an industrial building in Torrance not far from the LA airport to Sifu’s dojo. He struggled through a two-hour workout, but two days later he returned. “Come every Saturday.” Sifu said.

He gradually healed, worked hard and took cash to Diego every two weeks. He quit messing with his bike and riding like a bat-outta-hell through the hills. He expanded his living quarters in his shop, framed walls and drywalled a new bedroom. He hit the local antique store and Good Will locations for a queen-sized bed and a crib. Suddenly the redheaded loner had a mission.

He never missed Saturday at the dojo. While at work watching a spinning lathe in the machine shop, he question everything about his life. Terrified, he wasn’t sure what to do or how make it work. Sometimes he gazed at his Sportster longingly and just wanted to climb aboard and ride. As he painted the new rooms in his shop with his helper, he doubted his abilities to be a spouse or a dad. Something inside of him just wanted to escape, but something in her gaze gave him hope.

Friday night after being paid and cashing his check he rode east on the Santa Monica freeway, splitting lanes toward the desert. At the dusty, grimy intersection of the 10 and the 15 heading toward Vegas resided a massive truck stop and he rolled off the freeway to refuel his just over 2-gallon tank.

He pulled up to the pumps and kicked his chromed kickstand out and leaned his bike against the metal post. He started to refuel as he heard more bikes blasting into the lot as massive as two football fields of asphalt lined with idling 18-wheelers.

As they peeled into the lot, they were followed by a racing orange muscle-car, a Plymouth from the ‘70s. It sported massive slicks and the driver enjoyed the open space, burning-out and spinning in circles. The riders, three of them rode dangerously close to Bruno as they slid up to the adjacent pump. There were two Comanchero brothers and a prospect. One of them recognized Bruno. Pablo’s brother parked his chopper and drew his aluminum bat from a leather sheath strapped to his front forks.

“Puta,” he shouted and ordered his prospect to fill their bikes. The two patch-holders approached Bruno as he pulled the nozzle from his tank and replaced it in the pump.

“Pablo’s going to love this,” Ricky said and drew back for a swing.

Bruno replaced his gas cap and looked at his tank. No one fucks with a biker’s ride he thought to himself. “Did you bring the grand?” Bruno asked as his eyes lifted to meet the gaze of the oncoming outlaw. He quickly moved around his Sporty to confront moderate sized club member in all leather, his vest flapping in the desert wind the bat above his shoulder while he charged.

The other outlaw pulled a long straight blade from his black, stitched leather sheath and sliced it through the air. Bruno scarred shitless, learned from the martial arts master. It was time to test the lessons. He didn’t back down but ran at the man whose eyes widen and suddenly he questioned his motives, but that didn’t stop him. Committed he gripped the bat with two leather glove adorned fists and his grip increased as his engineer boots slammed against the pavement.

Bruno ran at the outlaw and drove his left hand against the man’s fists stopping the swing. As instructed, he let his hand slide out along the shank of the light metal bat until he reached four inches from the end, where he controlled the leverage. As he twisted the bat down, breaking the biker’s grip he drove his right webbed hand into the outlaw’s throat.

He took the shiny bat away from the Comanchero, spun 180 degrees with the bat cocked and hit a home run with the knife from the other punk’s leather grasp. As instructed, Bruno then held the bat in two hands, one at one end and one at the other as he punched the knife wielding biker with one end and smacked the chocking outlaw with the other.

The prospect refueling the bikes didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. He filled the brothers choppers first and started to move toward filling his Softail fatbob tanks, when he witnessed the two patch-holders losing the fight. He thought better, replaced the nozzle in the pump, jumped on his bike, tossed his prospect patch onto a member’s seat and peeled out.

The brother driving the muscle-car, spinning a burnout in the parking lot saw Bruno kneecap one of the outlaws with the bat. “Next time bring cash,” Bruno spat, stood and approached the other Comanchero who scrambled backwards on the grimy, oil-soaked, asphalt sporting a busted jaw. The pain excruciating, he didn’t want to have anything to do with the mad redhead and the metal bat.

Bruno approached the rumbling bright orange hotrod with Crager mag wheels. Fast Fred behind the wheel wearing his patch, his hands sweating, one on the slick laminated wooden steering wheel with chromed spokes to the center and the other on the stainless steel revolver.

“I’ll bet you have a big problem on your hands,” Bruno said the bat still in front of him like a warrior’s bumper, while he held each end firmly.

Fast Fred stared at Bruno and pulled the weapon back inside. “I’ve got to get the fuck outta here,” he muttered.

“Go,” Bruno said intent on the location of the weapon. “The cops will come and take care of your brothers better than you can. I won’t touch them again.”

“The prez is going to be pissed,” Fred said and shifted the car into first.

“He’s pissed all of the time. At least you got away with the shit,” Bruno smiled. “Tell him, if he paid me, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Bruno rode hard into the desert, while watching the city fade and the desert night come alive with stars. He didn’t care about cops or tickets, he just wanted to see his girl.

He slid up in front of Diego’s pad and Sheila ran into the desert sand to greet him. They hugged long and hard, holding on desperately for what could be, might be, and might not.

Diego came outside and Bruno gave him the funds. “My pad is almost finished,” he said holding tight to the girl, almost six months pregnant. “Can you guys go somewhere else for a few days?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Diego said. “Nobody knows where I live. We’ll be fine.”

“I don’t have a good feeling,” Bruno said. “I need to get back to my pad. They’ll be coming for me.”

Bruno kissed Sheila deeply. “It won’t be long now and we’ll be together.” He straddled his trusty Sportster and peeled through the sand and dust to the highway winding back to the Interstate and home two hours away.

Scared to death, he split lanes, dodged trucks and congested traffic back into the city. The club would have sources and intel. He had nothing. They had numbers and contacts, and he was a loner. They threatened, bribed, cajoled and beat on humble folks. Bruno had no one to talk to, except a Hispanic mud man and painter, illegal who helped out. He didn’t speak English, terrified that he might be deported any day.

He happened to be Bruno’s weak link. Long Beach drug gangs knew where all the illegals lived and extorted from them to stay silent about their whereabouts. The Comancheros drilled their drug connections for info and resources. Saturday little skinny Emilio didn’t show up for work.

Saturday night a van full of club members slid up in front of Bruno’s tin shop building crawled out of the van each holding a booze bottle full of gasoline with a rag fuse stuck in the end. Simultaneously, they lite their fuses and threw the bottles at the base of the building where the wooden frame was exposed.

The building burst into flames. Inside smoke and heat intensified and the fire spread to anything that would ignite from rags to trash cans and then oil. Lacking air to breathe Bruno woke as his new walls and insulation caught fire. He jumped out of bed like a startled roach running for cover. He crawled and grabbed a painter’s mask, then his clothes and finally his Sportster. He threw open the roll-up shop door and pushed this motorcycle outside just as more of the interior and a spare gas can exploded. Everything he had suddenly gone, he straddled his Sportster and peeled out.

As fire trucks approached, lights flashed and sirens blared, Bruno rode out of Long Beach.

Later that night four Comancheros and a van pulled up in front of Diego’s desert pad. Pablo climbed out of the van and indicted to his members where to position themselves. He strode under the shingled eves, warm at 2:00 in the morning and pounded on the door. Diego yanked the door open. “What the fuck,” Diego said.

“We came for the girl,” Pablo snarled, “or else.”

“Or else what?” Diego said

“Or else this,” Pablo said and even in the dark his long bowie-styled knife glinted in the moonlight as Pablo jammed it into Diego’s gut. The man stumbled back and fell to the floor. Maria ran to his side and cupped her hand over the bleeding wound.

Pablo indicated for his two lieutenants to enter the house and snatch the pregnant girl, who was in a night gown and barely able to grab an Indian blanket off the velvet couch she slept on. The brothers dragged her quickly out to the van and shoved her in the side door. Pablo spit on the concrete floor as Diego and Maria huddled, clutching one another. “That piece of shit puta knows where to find us,” Pablo said. “He better come with more than a grand if he wants to see the bitch alive again.” He turned and stormed out of the door. In less than five minutes the Comancheros came, accomplished their mission and hit the road.

The next morning Bruno woke-up leaning against the stucco Dojo exterior wall in Torrance, the sun warming his engineer boots. Two other bikes rolled into the parking lot. One was Sifu’s raked old-school chopper, all metallic with Chinese dragons, in gold-leaf inlaid on the tank and another stretched by Jesse James FXR with an extended glide and everything was performance and black except for a touch of pinstriping.

Bruno slipped his cell phone into a leather vest pocked quietly. Maria had called from the hospital.

“What’s up with you,” Sifu said.

“I’m done,” Bruno pulled his knees up and buried his face between them. “They’ve destroyed and taken all I had left.”

They worked out hard in close-quarters combat and weapons training. Bruno smelled of smoke. The discussion was as intense as the workout. After training, Mark took Bruno into Sifu’s office. While Sifu showed Bruno his private stash of weapons including several Browning and Glock pistols, Mark stepped out of the office and retired to the computer and phone behind the Dojo counter.

I have a class to teach,” Sifu said and took Bruno into his private quarters behind his office. “You need some rest.” The room contained a comfortable bed, no windows and a statue of Buddha on a makeshift shrine with a fountain of trickling water surrounding it and running over polished stones. He turned on some calming oriental music. “Lay down and close your eyes. When you get up, feel free to take a shower.” Sifu closed the door. He held the face of wisdom and wars, pock-marked, tan and thoughtful.

Three hours later Bruno stepped out of the shower. When he returned to the meditation room, he looked at the glowing Buddha as if the master spoke to him. He turned to the bed to see his pants carefully laid out on the bed. His smoke stained t-shirt was gone and replaced with thick black sweatshirt. The front was gold silk screened with a Chinese dragon and crossed swords. Also, a black leather thong necklace rested on the chest of the sweatshirt. It sported a highly detailed brass Dragon with a sparkling emerald in its eye and next to his pants was an engraved leather knife sheath. The same dragon and crossed swords was carefully engraved into the thick hide and into the shiny black lacquered knife handle. The Damascus blade was shaped in Japanese fashion and sharp as a razor.

Bruno dressed quickly, walked through Sifu’s office and passed the Dojo where Sifu taught another class of kids learning the basics. He stopped and bowed to the master with clasped hands. Sifu acknowledge him with his feet snapped together followed by a slight bow with his hands clasped and a knowing gaze.

As he walked toward the glass door entrance Mark stopped him. “You’ll need this.” He handed Bruno a small black tiny book. “This has all the intel you’ll need.”

Bruno opened the book to find only three pages of info. The first said, “Dinner at 6:00, and the address to a restaurant near the Irvine Industrial complex. “He can’t reach his phone,” was noted.

Bruno looked at his battered watch and tapped the cracked glass screen. His eyes were deep green, but clear and bright. It was closing on 5:00. He needed to ride.

He looked like a new man as he straddled his glistening Sportster and fired it to life. For the first time his black vest, with the new shiny brass dragon pin looked organized and almost military with the logo on the sweatshirt. His red hair and the emerald green pinstriped scallops on his tank matched the emerald green in the dragons’ eyes. He felt the weight of the Glock in his gun pocked and two additional 8-round clips in the other.

He rode like a warrior against the setting sun into the dregs of the city’s industrial complex to find Pablo’s regular coffee shop on the edge of the seedy district. He watched his time closely and approached from west as six Comancheros and Pablo rolled in from the east. Bruno sat side saddle on his clicking and cooling motorcycle as the brothers pulled into the parking lot and slid to a stop in front of the Crescent Wrench Café, wrapped in galvanized tin and adorned with old equipment and tools.

Startled, they snapped their kickstands down and grabbed at their weapons. Bruno stood, raised the sparkling Glock and took out Pablo’s two favorite lieutenants. The men screamed and fell against their choppers knocking them over, one caught fire. Another member lifted his weapon, thought better, threw it on the ground and road away. Bruno aimed carefully and took out his rear tire tossing the rider to the pavement. He got up and attempted to run. Bruno blew out a kneecap.

The fire fight was on and other members tried to return fire to no avail. Bruno wasted every last member, until Pablo stood alone his hands out to his side. “I don’t have a pistol,” Pablo said stepping back.

“Terrific,” Bruno said and holstered the Glock after replacing the empty clip. “You like knives, right.”

For the first time Pablo wasn’t absolutely sure of himself. But once Bruno holstered his 9mm, that snarky smirk returned to his face. Bruno was a smaller and less fit man. But now, like his opponent he held the appearance and stance of a warrior and as he yanked the Asian blade from his sheath. Pablo recognized a different situation.

Bruno approached and Pablo glanced around as if one of his members would come to his aid. He yanked his Bowie knife and the two men clashed. Pablo swung his knife violently and erratically, but Bruno moved with the attacks only slicing when the opportunity was sure. He cut Pablo’s massive forearm first, then sliced his flexing bicep.

Pablo suddenly lost the use of his left arm as his right hand with the knife drove at Bruno stomach. Bruno easily maneuvered the arm away from his target and sliced Pablo’s forearm wide open like he would slice a turkey leg. Pablo dropped his blade and Bruno stepped closer and slit the tendons at the bottom of his bulging muscle. The arm lost function as the bicep curled uselessly to his shoulder and he screamed, both arms dysfunctional.

Bruno stepped even closer. “A Billy badass who picks on women, huh?” He slid his knife between Pablo’s muscular legs and Pablo’s eye’s widened. “You’ll never see that broad again or your grand,” Pablo sneered but his dark eyes indicated fear and Bruno’s razor sharp knife cut through Pablo’s denims and cut his femoral artery deeply.

“We’ll see about that,” Bruno said, wiped the knife on Pablo’s pants and watched him collapse in a pool of spewing blood on the oil-stained asphalt. “Got a meeting with the president’s wife.”

“Wait,” Pablo began to plead as he bled out on the pavement and Bruno rode away.

Bruno knew the cops would be all over the café in minutes. He needed to distance himself quickly and his Sportster did the job. Some ten miles away he skidded into an old paint shop, surrounded with a galvanized tin fence for privacy. Mark waited with the prez’s wife, Tammy. She didn’t appear to be a biker broad. She lacked the rough exterior, more like a slick South Bay real estate sales agent or Victoria Secret model.

Bruno slid to a stop and Tammy ran to his side, “Bruno.” His ex who ran off when he served overseas wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close.

“What the hell,” Bruno said conflicted. “Wouldn’t you know it.”

“It’s not like that,” Tammy stammered. “I was lonely.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bruno said. “Let’s go.”

Bruno revved his faithful Sportster. “Get on.” He looked at Mark and nodded. “Are we cool?”

“Yes,” Mark said and the tall man strode to his stretched chopper, pulled a set of short bolt-cutters out of saddlebags and gave them to Bruno, who stuffed them in his vest. Mark tossed his leg over the custom tooled seat as the sun rapidly set in the west.

They both blasted out of the parking lot in the same direction, for a couple of miles then split. Another half mile and Bruno pulled into an empty slab building parking lot, stopped and lit a cigarette.

“You smoke?” Tammy asked her baby blue-eyed gaze searching Bruno’s features for clues to his thoughts.

“Last one,” Bruno said, puffed on the cigarette and tossed the pack in the bushes lining the parking area. He attempted to relax.

“What’s going to happen?” Tammy asked while remaining in the saddle. At 5’6” she was still hot although disheveled from the ride.

Bruno looked at her as if his entire life was dropped into a blender. He knew at this moment he could ride away with Tammy and maybe, but maybe wasn’t good enough. Her appearance didn’t answer the myriad of questions swirling through his brain cavities. He’d killed men and wasn’t done. Maybe more would die.

“Let’s roll,” Bruno said and kicked his leg over his custom Le Pera seat.

“But baby, can’t we talk?” Tammy whispered in his ear as they pulled into the street and sliced deeper into the industrial complex toward the Comanchero’s clubhouse surrounded by 6-foot chain-link fence.

He parked the Sportster a block away. Dark as they made their way to the back of the clubhouse compound, Bruno listened intently. The center of the industrial park on a weekend was quiet, except for Born to Be Wild blaring from the clubhouse speakers. He watched everything that moved. The tin shop was open. Lights and activity ensued inside. The back of the clapboard house was quiet and dark with a three-step landing leading to the back screen door. Worn and tattered the door latch was unhinged and the wooded framed door swung open slightly then shut with a clang.

Bruno didn’t like the disruption. He wasn’t exactly sure what the hell he planned to do. He knew his mission remained to free Sheila, but he had no idea how to do it. He studied the number of bikes in the lot and vehicles. He figured there must be a dozen or more members around. Freeing the bolt cutters, he moved to the darkest most hidden corner of the lot and cut at the chain link, one link at a time until he could push Tammy through the mesh and himself.

He moved along the fence toward the front of the clapboard house and the broad porch. He positioned himself across from the corner of the house. He could see into the shop, the front of the house clearly and the side, in case someone came around from the back. A floodlight glowed from above the shop door. Another from the shingled roof of the house lite up the bikes parked in two rows out front.

Bruno pulled the Glock out of his gun pocket housing a full clip, his last one and fired a round into the air. Suddenly members emerged from the house and the shop armed.

One member, a tall skinny kid saw Bruno and the woman and ran back inside hollering, “It’s him, and your wife.”

The prez, Erick Stratton came out onto the porch abruptly, followed by two members. “What the fuck?”

“You owe me a grand,” Bruno said, “and where’s the girl?” The fact that he stood slightly behind Tammy and was holding the shiny recently fired Glock held the troops at bay.

“Pablo’s dead,” Bruno said, “and so are his soldiers. What are you going to do now, Punk!”

“Fuck you!” the prez said and looked around at his troops armed and ready. “You don’t have a chance here. You should have known not to come back.”

“It’s just you and me,” Bruno spat and shoved Tammy away from him exposing himself. She stumbled and grabbed the highbars of a chopper to steady her, but she didn’t run to the porch. She stepped back, as if to separate herself from the prez. Bruno’s red hair flashed in the dim light, his vest flapped in the evening breeze and the brothers could make out the almost uniform flare of his golden dragons attire. “Mano y Mano muthafucker.”

Bruno holstered his 9mm and threw his vest open to reveal the slick Japanese knife sheath. “How about knives like Pablo?” Bruno spat, “or just a grand and the girl.”

The president eyes widened with fear, he stepped back from his power position at the edge of the wooden porch. His hollow fight was gone.

Sheila pushed open the tattered, front, screen door followed by the skinny messenger member who raised his hands high in mock surrender. The six-months pregnant, Hispanic sweetheart, still in her nightgown and wrapped in a colorful Mexican blanket stepped down off the porch landing gingerly.

Bruno ran forward to help her and a Comanchero standing outside the shop door jacked the slide on his pump shotgun. Just as quickly another distant shot rang out, and the rifle was knocked from his grasp. The brothers in unison looked around to find the location of the shooter. They couldn’t.

Bruno continued quickly to Sheila’s side and helped her from the last step. “Can you ride?”

She looked up at him as she moved into his arms. “I can do anything with you,” She said and Bruno led her away, but as he reached the corner of the aging clapboard building, he turned to Erick still on the porch looking frail. “You still owe me a grand.” Bruno said. “Don’t make me come back here.”

The prez glanced around at the other members and as if looking for back-up but none came. Members put their weapons away, relaxed and waited.

The skinny brother on the porch dropped his hands and reached into his pockets. He pulled out a wad of cash and ran off the porch. Another brother met him as the bottom step with a C-note, other brothers came forward with cash and before Bruno could reach the hole in the industrial fence the thin Comanchero approached with a serious wad of cash. “For the baby,” He muttered, bowed slightly and held the chain-link aside for their departure.

Bruno looked him in the eyes. “Comancheros forever,” he said, “Just get a new prez.”

 

I had the opportunity to attend the 15^th CONFERENCE ON CLIMATE CHANGE in Orlando Florida put on by The HEARTLAND INSTITUTE

While I have attended a lot of Seminars, Conferences, Legislative Sessions and Hearings over the years I have never attended one on Climate Change. –

 I will say the I was Very Impressed and Learned A lot about the subject. I am still learning as I also came home with a pile of books and other literature, which I am still going through.

 Bandit thought this would educate me more on the subject and it would be something the readers of Bikernet would be interested in. We do realize that there is so much going on in everyone’s lives, about so many subjects it is sometimes hard to get enough good information to understand and make a good decisions on.

After signing up for the Conference, I received a Conference Program in the mail. I started off by reading the Biographies of the speakers. WOW, Impressive and so many different backgrounds and experiences.

There were 2 Conference sessions going on during the same time throughout the day so had to choose carefully what speaker or speakers I thought would be most informative on the subject.

There are so many subjects to choose from. Is there really an abnormal climate change going on (What some want to call Global Warming, Climate Emergency or Climate Doom). Climate Forecasters’ are way above the person on TV telling you what they think the weather might be tomorrow. How is this climate change being recorded, what is used to record it, when and where is the recording being done? And what I was looking for, info about Fossil Fuels.

While TV and the news media has been pushing all kinds of stuff about Climate Change a lot of it just did not make sense. Much of it was coming from the Government and that made me suspicious. It has been my experience monitoring them over the years stuff like this is usually not the full story, or at the very least very one sided and most likely someone involved was making a lot of money from it.

 Logic would be to hear from people with opposing views, see what they had to say and if they had anything to back up their statements.

 There are so many books and other information on this subject. I am never going to be able to go through all of them. I have a few though that I will tackle. They contain a vast amount of information. I will share that and hope it will help those reading this make a decision on what is true and what is not.

 No matter what the subject there will be differences of opinions. Why Scientists Disagree About Global Warming is one of the publications I am going through.

Interesting is that it is from NIPCC – Nongovernmental International Panel on Climate Change and their Second Edition.

In the Preface: A frequent claim in the debate is that there is a “consensus” or even “overwhelming consensuses” of scientists embrace the more alarming end of the spectrum of scientific projections of future climate change. Politicians including President Barack Obama and government agencies including the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) claim “97” percent of scientists agree” that climate change is both man-made and dangerous.

This claim is not only false, but its presence in the debate is an insult to science.

As the authors of this book explain, the claim of “scientific consensus” on the causes and consequences of climate control is without merit. There is no survey or study showing ‘consensus” on any of the most important scientific issues in the climate change debate.

It is very interesting to note that NIPCC has no formal attachment to or sponsorship from any government or government agency. It also receives no corporate funding for its activities.

Key Findings

The most important fact about climate science, often overlooked, is that scientist disagree about the environmental impacts of the combustion of fossil fuels on the global climate.

The articles and surveys most commonly cited as showing support for a “scientific consensus” in favor of the catastrophic man -made global warming hypothesis are without exception methodologically flawed and often deliberately misleading.

Okay some big words there, but what it says in Biker and other common people language it is a Big Con and the government is involved up to their neck in it and continue to lie to the American people and the rest of the world.

A Publication that got my attention was Nothing to Fear – A Bright Future for Fossil Fuels by Donn Dears – The story of fossil fuels and climate change.

Usually when someone tells me nothing to worry about or fear I get a feeling that is kind of hard to explain but like maybe a sixth sense that is telling me I should be paying more attention.

Well in this case, the only fear I have is that more people do not know what is going on and that Fossil Fuels are GOOD.

It’s been confirmed, they have been around for a long time, they heat our homes, power our vehicles and are used in so many products we use every day.

Now it seems Mother Nature is causing some issues, because of people using and in many cases abusing things that affect her.

There is a group who is trying to convince us carbon dioxide, which is an invisible harmless gas that is released when fossil fuels are burned is bad and in some way is responsible for our climate emergency.

The fact is, fossil fuels provide the affordable and reliable energy needed to protect people from Mother Nature.

So, why do groups and the media want to get rid of fossil fuel? Well, I can think of a couple of reasons and the first would be money, Yea I hear you HUH?  

Stop and think about it for a minute, People all over the world make Big Money from Fossil Fuels. Just look at what happens at the gas pump and that is just the tip of the iceberg.

 The United States has plenty of Fossil Fuel yet it continues to buy it from other countries at all kinds of weird prices. I am not even going to open that can of worms right now.

If you can’t get in on the big money from fossil fuels, let’s see what we can come up and sell to the masses. Some of the things are:

We need renewable energy, so let’s build some wind farms. Wind is free and we can use it to make electricity. Unfortunately, a lot of Fossil Fuel is used making wind farms, including the oil used to lubricate moving parts. As I ride my motorcycle around our beautiful country, I see a lot of these wind farms. At one time I actually thought they might be an answer, and then I found out more. How often do they not work, parts break, birds killed, massive landfills with mill blades, with no idea how long it is going to take for them to decompose. In the meantime, folks are making money. But while the government forces wind, it causes additional issues. As it turns out, these issues could be worse for Americans, and we are forced to pay for them.

Makes me think of a Snake Oil Salesman? The government needs Climate Emergencies to force their mandates and money-making programs.

Alex Epstein was one of the speakers. I chose to attend his presentation. I was impressed and even got to talk to him briefly. In The Moral Case for Fossil Fuels, He exposes the anti-human, anti-mankind thesis. The primary criteria for evaluating energy should be whether its production and use benefits or harms mankind.

There are many other subjects like the problems and limitations of wind and solar energy. Lack of creditability and proposed legislation from the EPA and so much more.

So how does the Snake Oil Salesman sell his product? Well the advertising industry relies on some fancy wording. When they say no product is better than theirs, it also means there are products just as good, including products that may be lower in price and a better value. They keep repeating this over and over until they get enough people to believe it.

For example, keep telling people there is an issue with Global Warming and try to convince them it is from Fossil Fuels. Then move onto their answer: Wind Farms and Solar power.

Here’s what I learned. We’re jumping from the frying pan into the fire. The alleged cure could be or is worse than the sickness.

Think about all the adds you see about this Medication Cures This Illness and then follows a long list of side effects, way worse than the original sickness.

Once you understand the Solution wasn’t created to solve the problem but the problem was intentionally created for the solution to be rolled out, and then you understand the magnitude of evil in the people behind this.

One of my highlights of attending this conference, was to get to meet and have my photo taken with Gregory Wrightstone. He has numerous degrees and was accepted as an expert reviewer for the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. He is also the author of the bestselling book Inconvenient Facts – the science that Al Gore doesn’t want you to know.

I learned a lot, met a lot of very intelligent people who are experts in the field of science, got a vast amount of literature, met a Senator from Arizona named Frank Carroll who worked on the Motorcycle Lane Splitting Bill with my friend Michael Infanzon – ABATE of Arizona, a lawyer, numerous motorcycle riders and others.

 

Hopefully what I am sharing with you will inspire you to look into this further.

I would like to suggest you start with The HEARTLAND INSTITUTE  www.heartland.org

Dan doesn’t stop. He’s hitting events, building bikes, working with the Sturgis Museum and looking for vintage parts constantly. Plus, he studies the history of the bikes he’s building.

In this episode between blizzards in the outlaw hills east of Sturgis, SD, we cover the final paint for Dan’s 1914 twin.

Dan’s rebuilding the engine right now, while Tim Peterson of the Amazing Flat Earth Art Studio, in Spearfish, SD is handling final pinstriping.

Let’s back up to the Silent Gray Fellow base coats and clear coats for this project. The base paint work was handled by John from Lophat Customs in Keystone. “It’s a top-secret formula for the color,” said Dan. “I got the color from an old-timer in Milwaukee.”

If you like this color, Dan will share the formula.

As you can see most of the components are painted gray. Originally, they were sprayed with a heavy oil-based enamel. Over the years the process and the chemicals have changed from good to bad to much better with today’s acrylic enamels and amazing clear coats.

Note the rear brake drum. Harley was beginning to shift from a bicycle/cam based internal brake to an interior band, which didn’t last long. The bicycle-based brake was a mechanical challenge against the increased motorcycle horse power. Plus, there was a heat issue. Then they tested the exterior band over the drum, which had other issues. There weren’t a lot of paved roads at the time and dirt and debris could stop brakes from working. Hell, what about water, rain and mud.

It wasn’t until the ‘20s that they figured out the dual internal shoe, the cam and proper leverage to force them against the drum. I figured the rigors of WWI made the leading-shoe system critical.

Here’s where another restoration controversy rears its bizarre and historic head. Dan pointed out that if you lined up a dozen restored Silent Gray fellows, the colors of gray would vary widely. His gray seems rich to me and deep with a coat of clear.

There’s even more controversy stirred into the restoration pot. For instance, the factory took a restored 1914 out of the museum and freshened it up. Unfortunately, the painter pinstriped it with 1913 art guidelines. The pinstriping was slightly different from year to year. Of course, that meant that guys all over the country were following the factory restoration, and it was wrong.

The factory also installed the wrong neck patent decal. It should have been the oakleaf design on a ’13 and early ‘14s. A problem surfaced.

There are a myriad of similar issues including the fork cups. One year they were plated and the next machined. One year with a smooth exterior and the next with a step in the lip for a dust cover.

Up until 1916 the rectangular foot boards were made and the rubber pads glued, not riveted. Again, if you’re restoring a bike like Dan is doing and want it right, watch out. Dan bought footboards but had to weld and cover the rivet holes.

He made his axle nuts with hex stock, also center-stand nuts. He found the stock and the taps on eBay.

Okay, so up to ’13 the pinstriping was silver and red. Then in ’14 they shifted to gold and red. Check your decals.

We drove over to Tim’s art studio in Spearfish, and I noticed his chopper parked right next to his paint bench. It wasn’t fancy or a complete custom, but it contained a cool flair and terrific lines. I complimented Tim on his scooter and the bike’s history came to light. He’s owned it since it was new.

Tim attended the rally on this Shovelhead for 41 years. He hasn’t missed a year of having his bike parked on Main in Sturgis and he has the proof with 41 hash marks stripped on his frame.

Unfortunately, he broke down last year on the way into town, just off exit 17. His bike wouldn’t start and he returned home. It took him a week to figure out he had a collapsed lifter and correct it. I have always like solids…

“I like painting and striping bikes, much more that creating signage,” Tim said while taping Dan’s tanks. Unfortunately, Tim is the go-to guy for quality signage in Sturgis and Deadwood.

Many of his signs are amazing works of art, and he has the quality, abilities, products and finishes to make them last through the next blizzard or heat wave. When you see a knockout sign in Deadwood or at the Rally in Sturgis, it must be Tim’s work.

Tim’s retired from installing signs above the second floor on old buildings after he almost fell off his ladder during a Deadwood gunfight acted out on the historic streets. No more…

And if you’re in the market for a collectible today, the industry is expanding like mad, with remanufactured parts. Some are way more precision than the originals. We will take you through the process here, which should help with a purchase or my own project down the road. Fortunately, Dan is very open about his bike builds and experiences with products.

I’m getting to tag along and learn.

–Bandit