Memorial Day Weekend Events!

SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE!

THIS WEEKENDS WEATHER IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE BEST IN YEARS. TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT!

GET OUT AND RIDE!

THE NLMC LONG RIDERS will be departing at 8:00 from The Shack Restaurant in Niantic, CT for a weekend ride to ROLLING THUNDER! All riders who wish to have a great breakfast should be there by 7:00 as this place really packs in a big breakfast crowd. Ride Safe Long Riders!

For those who like parades, NLMC members will be leaving Dunkin Donuts in Montville, CT at 8:30 Saturday Morning to take part in the Lebanon Memorial Day Parade. Patriot Guard Riders and any other club interested in joining us are welcome. Non affiliated riders are also welcome.

NLMC Parade Riders will also assemble at the American Legion Hall in New London, CT at 7:30, Monday Morning. Again, PGR Riders, other clubs and unaffiliated riders are welcome to join us.

The Donald Pittsley Memorial Run, previously known as Pappy's Run, will leave the Sprague Rod and Gun Club at 11:15, Sunday morning. Donald is a past president of the NLMC. We encourage all club riders not involved in Rolling Thunder to support this run. For those who would like a great breakfast, the chow line starts at 8:00.

Get out and enjoy this beautiful weekend!

As Always, Ride Safe and Ride Free

Ron

Going Deaf In The Wind 4th Installment

The Guzzi Years

As soon as I walked into the shop to pick up spark plugs for my Suzuki , two identical black Guzzi's caught my eye. I asked Burt about them and he said two buddies traded them in for GL1000's. They were the first one's in the shop and they had to have them.

I hope they were more happy with their impulse buy than I was with my CB750.

I pick out my goose, sat on it and said, "Sold!"

Now all I had to do is get my wife on board. No easy task.

When she asked what kind of plugs I bought, I told her Moto Guzzi, and a motorcycle came attached to them.

After a incredulous look, she stammered, "Who the hell makes Moto Guzzi motorcycles?"

"They make their own bikes! They're Italian!", I blurted back.

She threw her hands up in the air and said, "Now we'll have to buy a pickup truck to haul it home when it dies on the road!"

She had friends who owned Italian bikes and heard all the horror stories. She wasn't a happy camper.

A trip down to Burt Ives in Columbia brought her face to face with one of the best bikes I've ever owned. It was beautiful to my eyes: chrome and black pin stripped tank with black pin striped fenders. All she saw was the transverse V-Twin and said, "Don't the Italians know how to mount a motor in a frame?"

Old Burt saw I was in trouble.

With a sparkle in his eye, he ambled over to us and did what he did best. He flirted with her. She warmed up a bit and I knew I was home free.

After a bit of persuasion, I got her to take a test ride with me. Within five miles she wanted this bike. It had a great seat, solid ride and sounded like a 40's flat head Ford when taking it through the gears. It's distinctive sound was enhanced because it had "police" mufflers on it, less restrictive than the standard ones. I liked the rocker shifter, and the light vibration of the bike. It was the right bike for me!

My Guzzi took us on adventures and introduced us to long distance riding. I averaged 24,000 miles a year on her. I have many memories from those days.

One quickly comes to mind:

When I bought the bike, I knew I'd be putting a fairing and hard bags on it. I chose a Wixom, bat wing fairing for the look and Bates "Big Fats" hard bags for storage capacity. If you want to lay down miles, you have to be able to stow stuff. The fairing brings us to my first Guzzi tale.

I was heading home from work at dusk. Just as I passed Munson's Candy Kitchen, Home of Mega Fat Grams, I heard a loud PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS coming from my bike.

"CRAP!"

I rolled off the throttle, eased to the road shoulder and got ready for the familiar wobble to take hold. "What?" The bike didn't wobble. I got off and was relieved to find I didn't have a flat.

"WHAT THE HELL?"

I took off my lid, checked her over and shook my head. I couldn't figure out what happened to my bike. I decided I shouldn't have so many brews at work (I worked at a small auto parts store and my boss liked to knock down a few frosty cold ones before facing his wife). I joined him and discussed the hot topic of the day (IE the red head with big yams that walked past our store).

Well, I put on the skid lid and headed home.

10 miles down the road, in Columbia... PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"WHAT THE HELL?"

I pulled over, got off the bike and checked it out. With the motor off... PSSSSSSSSSSSS. "Man, I got to stop drinking! Period!"

I got on her, lit her up and blasted home.

I pulled into the walkway to my trailer, shut her off and ............. PSSSSSSSSSS!

My wife was at the door and said, "What's that?"

My response, "Thank God you heard it!"

A perplexed look came over her chubby face, then she understood. Both of us were going nuts in our marriage at this time and for all I knew, she was hearing stuff too!

After careful examination, I stuck my hand into the right side of my fairing. She shouted, STOP." Taking a small branch, she probed where my hand was heading.

CHOMP!

After a serious yank, she dislodged a bat from my bat wing fairing. I felt a moment of sincere love for my lady, shook my head, went into the trailer and pulled out a frosty cold one.

This was a truly great day in my life! I found out I didn't have to give up drinking beer after all!

To Be Continued

Ride Safe and Free

Ron

Going Deaf in The Wind 3rd installment

After an exhaustive search looking for a replacement bike for my Sportster, I finally decided on one of the first, sand cast case, CB750's to hit the area showrooms. I bought mine at Burt Ives Honda in Columbia, CT. Burt had sold me my ill fated Sportster, so he gave me a good deal on my new ride. Getting one at below invoice was unheard of as they were in great demand.

Mine was red and real eye candy for its time. I remember the rush of riding it home. It was fast, smooth, good handling for the day and had great electronics. The brakes actually worked and you could really see what was behind you in the rear view mirrors. I figured this was a good feature as this bike seemed to attract a lot of police cruisers.

It was fast! It ate up Sportsters, Triumph TT Specials and BSA Lightnings with ease. It was an incredible bike. But, it had one drawback.

To me, it just didn't feel like motorcycle.

It was just too smooth, too quiet, too wide and too top heavy. By this time, I rode for the fun of it and wasn't interested in impressing anybody.

I sold it for a loss, four months after I bought it. I don't regret that to this day. I was a kid, but I knew I'd eventually get into trouble with that bike.

I waited several months before looking for my next ride and I never would guess what I'd end up on.

Of all bikes, a Suzuki 500cc Titan!

Up until I rode this Suzy, I hated two strokes. They sounded like popcorn machines when off power and smoked when under load. Yet, they were undeniably fast and the Titan was a well made bike. It handled well at all speeds, was predictable and forgiving. I rode a lot of poker runs, made new friends and started to rack up a lot of miles. It was dependable, until a friend recommended I have his buddy, a mechanic at a local bike shop, go through my motor and enhance it's performance. I learned a valuable lesson. Enhanced performance often goes hand and hand with decreased reliability. I never got the bike sorted out after this guy got a hold of it. It kept eating spark plugs. After replacing them several times, around every 500 miles (once a week for me), I was getting frustrated. One day after work, I told my wife I was heading to Burt Ives to buy some more spark plugs. When I came home she asked me what kind of plugs picked up. I told her Moto Guzzi.

A Lively Conversation Ensued

-----------------------

On a sad note, sister Pat lost her dad and they'll be an Honor Guard Mission this Friday in his honor. Club Members, come to Thursdays meeting, check your e-mail or our web site for an update.

Ride Safe, Ride Free

Ron

2008 First Responders Run

Bikers gathered at the Brown Derby Pub under a beautiful, sunny a sky, looking forward to a good ride. We didn't disappoint them!

What followed was a great run, over beautiful country roads and a ferry boat ride across the Connecticut River. The ride ended up at The New London Motorcycle Club clubhouse where the riders were treated to good food, entertainment and a free raffel.

We would like to thank all riders who attended, especially riders from other MAPS clubs who showed their support for our event.

For pictures of this event, go to newlondonmotorcycleclub.com and click on What's Hot. Click on Club Sponsored Events, then click on 2008 First Responders Run.

Enjoy!

Ron

UPDATE ON POKER RUN

Poker Run

Sunday May 18th

Sponsored by The New London Motorcycle Club

Update

Sign up for the run takes place at the Brown Derby

Route 32 in Montville Connecticut

You can depart immediately after registering, or wait to ride with friends

The last departure will be 11:30AM

Our sweep riders will then depart, follow the route to our club house and let everyone know they are folding up the check points.

This ride includes: Free Pass to ride on

The Hadlyme Ferry Boat

Great Food

Free tickets to club raffle

AS OF NOW: Sunday's forecast looks good.

Rain shower are possible late afternoon.

This is a good weekend to ride close to home.

Come Join Us and Have A Great Time

Ron

Big Weekend Event

The New London Motorcycle Club is sponsoring a

Poker Run the Weekend!

Sign in Time: 10:00 - 11:00

Depart: 11:30

Location: Brown Derby, RT32, Montville, CT

Free Ferry Boat Ride Across the Connecticut River*

Good stops along the way

Last Stop: NLMC Club House, Moxley Road. Montville, CT

New Black Top Parking Lot at club house for easy parking!

Rain or shine, come and have a great time!

* Bridge Crossing if you prefer

Ron

Going Deaf In The Wind

Chapter 2

The Sportster Years

After a year and a half of riding my trusty little CB160, I was ready to move up to a bigger bike. When I started looking, I was like a kid in a candy store. In the day, dealers would actually let you test ride bikes and weren't all that worried if you took an hour to check one out.

My first stop was to visit John Laramie and Manchester Honda. He put up with me dropping by on a weekly basis and wasn't surprised when I wanted to try out some bigger bikes. First up was the original CB450 Honda.

Two things were readily apparent: the CB450 was a big bike for it's time and it was unmistakably a Honda (black tank, gray fenders). It had plenty of motor (it would walk away from a Triumph 500), handled good and was a fun ride. But, I didn't buy it. The first 450's were just butt ugly. So, I looked around the shop for something different.

The dealership also carried Kawasaki motorcycles. Two of them caught my eye. One was a sharp looking 500cc triple. You could get a speeding ticket sitting at a stop light with this bike. As he handed me the keys, John gave me "the look". I knew this was going to be a blast. I left the shop looking good, riding right and actually stopping for traffic lights. I kept a reasonably sane pace until I got onto I84. Then all bets were off. I opened this bike up and got the surprise of my life. Nothing! Well, nothing until I got her wound up, then all hell broke loose. It took off like a greyhound that got stung in the butt by a wasp! Man, this little bike was screaming. I figured I found my next ride. That was until I entered as exit ramp. Three little gremlins showed their ugly faces. 1. This bike was a flexi-flyer. Who ever designed the frame for this thing must of had a death wish. 2. This bike was so light, a pebble in the road almost landed me on my rear end. 3. The brakes weren't up to the power on tap. When I handed the key back, John gave me the all knowing look. I wore my experience on my face and didn't have to say a word.

After a few days later, I returned to try out a Kawasaki 650cc four stoke. This was a really neat bike. Not big on power, but smooth torque, good handling and, for me, it was eye candy. Kawasaki did a retro design of a pre-unit construction European parallel twin. The separate transmission case gave this bike a solid, no nonsense look. It would have been a good move up. But, my buddies talked me out of it. They just didn't like Jap bikes and I was tired of hearing it.

A few weeks later, I stopped out to see Burt Ives in Columbia, CT. Old Burt knew how to treat people. Burt, Ralph Strong and Freddy Marsh were the old school dealerships in our area. I liked the feel of the shop and ended up buying a 1964 Harley Davidson Sportster H.

The H model was a kicker, but had a battery instead of the Fairbanks Morse magneto the XLCH had. It was easier starting, had a milder cam and had plenty of punch for it's time. It was a "real" motorcycle: manual spark advance, no throttle return spring, hard clutch pull and a distributor that mounted on top of the right motor case. It shook, rattled and rolled. It had the sound, the look and the name. Finally, no one would make fun of my ride (except for old Indian riders). Now, nothing could hold me back. I was going to travel, see New England and find new adventures along the way........

Once I got it started!

This was the easy starting Sportster. But, I failed to mention, I weighed 128 lbs soaking wet. I know this, because there were plenty of hot summer days when I was soaking wet by the time I got it to fire up. Oh, it was really good at farting and belching flames out the pipes. My neighbors will attest to that. Once I got it started though (usually right after I threatened to trade it in for a Honda) the sound and vibes made me forget the pain in my right leg and I'd be off, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

That is, until something rattled off or just quit working.

I've had bazaar things happen while riding, but nothing prepared me for this machine. I knew Sportsters were noted for shedding parts onto the road. I had no idea how totally unreliable a bike could really be. Every ride was an adventure. One night, the head light fell off. On the road to Laconia, the carb vibrated loose. I held it snug with my knee until I got to a garage and replaced the machine bolts that shook lose. Looking in the rear view mirror was a joke. I could have a Mack truck on my tail and never know it. I couldn't corner it without sending sparks flying. I actually welcomed the day I blew a rod. Finally, I was free of the beast. More importantly, I stopped listening to what my buddies had to say and made my own choices as to what I rode.

Oh, I swore I'd never own another Harley.

I stuck by that for 37 years.

Now I own another one. They finally got it right.

However I went through eight different rides before I made the big jump back onto American Iron. I'm glad I did. Each had it's own personality and helped me build memories that carry with me to this day.

Life is an adventure.

My Sportster years drove this point home!

Ride Safe,

Ron

The Ultimate Low Rider

Invacare Tracer EX2

Finally, a seat height that lets me get my feet flat on the ground. I'm 5'4" and have been looking for a ride that would let me touch down solidly.

The good news: I've finally found a ride that lets be get a good foothold.

The bad news: It has 4 wheels and is a wheel chair.

It's a cruel, cruel world!!!

Oh, I know, they're a lot of low riders out there now. But, when you like riding back roads, you want to ride something you can lean into the turns with. That's a big part of riding, for me. I've seen too many guys lean hard into a turn, hit a bump, then have a memorable get off as their ride kicked out under them. So, I've learned to make due with seat heights that were available.

Looking back, I really didn't have much of a choice. Old school choppers looked great, but hard tails with kicked out forks and poor breaks just didn't fit my riding style.

No matter what I rode, it had to be fun to ride and handle well, to keep me happy.

Since I'm our of the wind for a few weeks, I figured it would be a good time to take a trip down memory lane.

This is the first installment of

42 Years: Going Deaf In The Wind!

Mid 60's

Some of my buds discovered Thai Stick, others Colombian Gold. I discovered you could really have a blast on a Harley Servicar in a farmer's field. Those old 45's sounded good once the mufflers rusted out and I never thought cow crap would ever get me in a wheel chair. I slung enough of it at my buddies on "scramblers", but they always got me back. I won't go there as it was always ugly. I knew I had to get a motorcycle, but my mom was against it. I lost my dad a few years earlier, so I had no one on the inside to pull for me. I did what every kid did who wanted to ride. I looked at mom and said,

"I don't want a motorcycle. I want a Honda"

Remember that, "You meet the nicest people on a Honda", ad? I latched onto that like a frog's tongue on a fly. It worked! I got her into the Honda Shop!

At a very young age, I learned the power of marketing.

Well, now that I got her into the shop and introduced her to a nice guy named John Laramie (he started Manchester Honda in a small shop on Center Street). She was impressed by his professionalism and his concern for starting me out with the right ride for a beginner. As he started to walk over to a Honda Cub 50cc, he saw the bilious look that came over my face and turned to a Super 90! My mind raced! I knew the 305 Super Hawk would be pushing my luck, so I ran over to a CB160, sat on in, and my feet touched the ground (almost). Well, she went along with it.

The day we went to pick it up, I was one proud and happy kid. After she dropped me off at the shop, she wanted to stick around to see me ride it. I told her not to worry, and a salesman told her he would check me out before he let me go. My naive mom gave me a hug, then went about her errands. It was a relief as I had no idea how to ride the bike!

The salesman took me out back into a small parking lot. He pointed out the throttle, the breaks and the shift lever. Leaving it on the center stand, he had me go through a few gears, get the feel of the throttle and the clutch, then had me move a few feet at a time, let go of the clutch and stop. When he figured I was ready, he had me go through a few gears, then cut me loose. Man, I was flying high!

I was a Biker!

After riding around 30 miles, I figured it was time to go home and take a break. I pulled into our garage, got off, and tried to get the thing on it's center stand. You see, that's the one thing they didn't teach me: pull up with the hands, push down with the feet. After finally getting it up, I called John and asked if there was a better way to do it than running backward, then slamming the center stand down. He laughed so hard, I think he broke a rib.

The following two years saw me ride that little bike to the scrambles in Grafton, VT twice and to Laconia twice. I enjoyed pulling up to my tormentors, watching them kick over their big twins until their faces turned kind of purple, then hit my start button, smile and take off before they could get into gear to catch me and kick butt.

Oh, I had to endure my share of kidding: Once leaving work I found papers under my bike (my buddies didn't think it was toilet trained yet) and once found it wedged between a Harley and a Indian Chief (my buddies were hoping a few cc's would rub off). I finally gave into the "There ain't nothing like cubic inches" brain set and sold my little, easy starting, good handling, reliable little bike. I traded up to a Harley Sportster!

The CB 160 experience taught me three things:

1. A 16 1/2 HP bike can take you on adventures, ride with the big boys (under 70), and get you home

2. You can crash, get hurt or kill yourself on a 16 1/2 HP bike, but you have to be incredibly stupid or work very hard at it.

3. Don't let anyone tell you what to ride!

Remember, I'm a Harley Owner. But, I stand by what I learned when I was a kid.

The bike that's right for you is the one that best fits your riding style.

Oh, and it helps if you're feet hit the ground.

Be Safe,

Ron