ABOUTDAMNTIME!
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FINALLY!
Got the call yesterday. My new 2015 Indian Scout has shipped at long last. Gonna name her Sopowa (Blackfoot for "Wind Maker"). Plan to fetch her Saturday.
Stoked
“It has been a source of great pain to me to have met with so many among [my] opponents who had not the liberality to distinguish between political and social opposition; who transferred at once to the person, the hatred they bore to his political opinions.” —Thomas Jefferson (1808)
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We lived in an apartment long while ago. Went to the bike breakers, told him a needed a bike that's battered and cheap but runs good. Bought an ugly Honda CX500. No one ever messed with it 'cept the local mystery tire punching nut. He punched everyone's tires. Utterly reliable and a great ride.
It's like having a plain girl friend. No worries, not worth stealing and you get to ride.
Spring. Get on craigslist. Get a bike.
That is beyond doubt the best looking straight up off the page motorcycle I have ever seen.
"If you do not read the newspapers you're uninformed. If you do read the newspapers, you're misinformed." -- Mark Twain
She is a beautiful critter.
¨Only two people walk around in this world beardless - boys and women - and I am neither one.¨
Wasn't kidding at all, you name it then you have to christian it right?
Davis, you are such a great writer and riveting storyteller, you really should write a full-blown article about your experiences ordering, waiting, fretting, getting, christening and then rolling this bike--and then get paid handsomely for getting it published in a motorcycle or men's lifestyle magazine. I'd sure as hell buy the issue it was published in.
Nah, there's no money in good. Ever heard this song:
"I fought Gresham's Law and the law won."
What I love about Annie the big beemer bagger is she shifts like a truck. What I love about the KLR Biffy is she shifts like butter. Sopowa shifts like a butter truck. The shifter works with a solid thunk, leaving no doubt, meant to be shifted with your boot. Way I like it. But then, soon as shifted, the engine takes up right where it left off in the last gear, slicker'n deerguts on a doorknob. The power band is wide as a church door. Usually takes a bit to find the sweet spot of a new machine. Not here. Sweet from end to end. You feel like she could get along with two or three gears at most. The other three of her six gears are just for giggles. It was darn hard to make out the RPMs on the digital display with sun high; but, judging just by ear, she leaped eagerly ahead anywhere from 2500 to 4000. I don't think I wrapped her up much tighter than 4000 in her first seventy five miles. Never had to twist the grip much at all. Passed a couple of dawdling trucks on short straights. Shot ahead like she meant it. Not scary power like my Honda 919. Not magic carpet power like my V65. But plenty enough power to make me glad the seat has a scoop up in back to keep me sliding over the fender. Only took about ten miles to find the forward pegs. After that, a very comfy chair. I even cocked my achilles over the pegs to stretch legs full length. A nice deal. I am perched on two butt bones and taint; so I might want an Airhawk for real long rides. Brake and clutch levers are excessively far from the grips, and there's no thumb wheel to adjust the clutch cable. All her clutching takes place near the far out, and all her braking likewise; so both these could stand to be cocked in much closer. Brakes may still need to bed in; but so far, they are certainly no BMW brakes. I'll have to think ahead.
Fit and finish are impeccable with one exception. I crawled all over underneath Sopowa before signing papers. Wonderful attention to detail. Clean. Neat. Replete with Indian script I's. The one exception is the bags. When I look at her seat, stitched perfectly, finished with expert care... what a contrast to these shaggy edged straps on her bags, all naked of leather on their inner sides. The bags look way too big for the bike on the outside; but the peculiar shape of the inside, the crevice shaped bottoms, the narrow slot openings, the hook shaped obstructions in each slot near the tops, all makes it impossible to fit much duffle inside. The final indignity is the cheesy wee plastic clips that fasten the straps down. For a grand? You gotta be joking. And WTF is with these clip-on reflectors?
The cure? Fire up Sopowa's engine. Throb down the road. Heaven. What a marvellous burble. Smooth. Just a hint of a throb in the boots, imperceptible in the handlebars. Performance? A muscular motorcycle experience. Beautiful thing.
The front end feels harsh. The back end feels mushy. It may be that some soft sided Dunlops and a couple twists on the rear shock adjustors will cure enough of this to live with. Or maybe not. The infamous hot pipe was no issue whatsoever. Lots of Indian riders complaing they had scorched a leg. Not me. It may simply be that I spread my legs in manly fashion, rather than clutching them together like a shy girl in a short skirt. All I can say is, I do not see how this became a concern, cause no hot pipe ever came close.
Got home, parked, fetched my Aeromach rack from the front door where the mailman had leaned it, chatted with the redheaded Bearswatter, ... musta been fifteen minutes. Buddy came along. We drooled awhile. Then I pulled out the rack and began bolting it on. Musta been half an hour she had been parked. Here comes an ear splitting squeal like our ears were ringing. Crazy sound right out of an ether nightmare. Looked out in the driveway -- no ring there. Walked around the garage -- not there. Came back to the bike. WTF? Stuck my key in the gas tank lock and that ringing abruptly stopped. This must be what others have described as a whistle. Tell you, this cannot go on. Have to cure that. Tinnitis on steriods.
On the way home, stopped for a burger at Scooter's in Lititz. Picked a booth where I could admire her. Watched one customer after another have to pause and stare at Sopowa in the parking lot. Women as well as men. Downtown Lancaster, a fellow had to pull up beside her and roll down the window of his pickup, all effervescent in his praise. Suzuki crotch rocketeer had to pull up beside and rave. Undeniably lovely. Sex on wheels. What a unique red.
The bikes I grew up with all had good mirrors. Up and out on as much stalk as required. Excellent tools for situational awareness. The more recent bikes I've had have all provided relatively good views of my sleeves, but pisspoor sitrep. I just don't get the trend in mirrors. All they had to do was give these stems three more inches up or out or both. What's the big deal? Does anyone ever try these things out before rolling them out? Got the pull back bars and glad I did.
The best of this bike is what a marvellous mill.
The worst of this bike is my God what crappass bags.
That was some tasty Tequila from WaltBasil I christened Sopowa with last night. Tasty cigar, too -- Uppowoc Mataloto. All three together had me rambling. I'll write better some other time. Ride today.
These First World problems. SOOOO annoying.
(intentional sarcasm for the enjoyment of those who've heard local "experts" giving this advice; "never touch the front brake" )
"If you do not read the newspapers you're uninformed. If you do read the newspapers, you're misinformed." -- Mark Twain
Compare this to, for examples, the deadly HD high speed wobble, or the infamous TwinCam 88 cam-scratching, or Honda Goldwing cracked frames, overheating STs, and so forth. Heck, I ride a KLR which virtually has no brakes. After thirty years continuous production, Kawasaki still refuses to acknowledge the infamous doo-hickey failure on the KLR. A series of these bikes was produced in 2008 with cylinder bores OUT OF ROUND! fer cryin out loud. Would not admit a thing.
No. The sterling way Polaris handled this failure of the rear brake (which you don't get much stopping power out of a rear on any bike anyway) is what kept me waiting another month at a time when I was about ready to give them a piece of my mind and demand my money back.
The one thing they did not do was deliver... bike nor info.