Motorcycles and Musings

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  • Headers

    The visible upgrade with audible results. Specially bent, personally welded – it’s not a custom ride without them. Mystically tuned and often misapplied, the lusciously bluing tubes can change the character of of the engine dramatically. They’re not a simple bolt-on HP booster. There’s a compromise.

    The old time hotrodders I bothered as a broke youngster taught me backpressure builds torque – open exhaust frees revs. They stressed the importance of an holistic build – envisioning the vehicle in its final form – and choosing the parts deliberately, accordingly, for a proper final product.

    It’s easy to criticize today’s influencers and their ads as a cheap front – they’re just pushing for dollars – but the hotrod / modding world has always been resplendent with sponsor patches and prominent decals. The rare few have risen to a podium out of the shed.

    That’s where it gets tricky. Do you bookmark sites with stuff for your bike or car or truck because it’s what you’re envisioning for a perfect build or are you clicking and Apple Paying for Christmas Lights in July?

    Power numbers don’t mean much by themselves. Dyno results are Nutrition Facts on a can of Sprite. How are you riding the thing? How deep are you digging into the power? Are you pressing the bike’s limits and bored with its limitations? Is it a spec sheet diva or a tool for shredding? Does it need custom headers or are they some damn thing on a site that fits your bike and might get likes?

    Do you want it to sound dope af?

    I’m a huge fan of the XR650L. I love the stock exhaust. Black headers with the heat shield reminiscent of some 80s movie machine gun barrel and the black muffler with a narrrowing exit just exude functional style and simple effectiveness. But it’s woefully bottled up in the top end and sounds like a sewing machine. I tried a couple slip-ons and they sucked. Yoshimura was oppressively loud but high RPM power was wildly enhanced. DG RST – supposedly quiet – was loud at idle and suppressive in the top end – basically horrible.

    So I recoiled into stock pipes loyalty, rationalizing their simplicity, value, and aesthetics.

    Until one ride when I admitted it’s shit and ordered up an XRs Only full system – headers and muffler. I can sacrifice some mid-range for a howling top end. Snagging another gear while the tire is roosting the past with older soil is pure life.

    Fire and revs, please.

  • The Old Neighborhood

    Suited up with nowhere in mind, I hit some local favorite stretches for a short loop on a chilly afternoon. Days before Thanksgiving, traffic was sparse. I was mindful of cold tires and wet leaves while getting in a good lean on what could’ve been the last comfortable weather for months.

    I chased County Routes for miles entering vaguely familiar territory. “I think this comes out here .. or somewhere.” The carving and climbing became upright burbling as I slowed into a town I hadn’t cruised in years. I turned right. Immediately recognized the backroad alternative to the rush hour madness from my High School commute.

    It’s where I crashed my father’s 5 speed diesel VW Golf on my Learner’s Permit one morning. The right rear tire was low and as the road bent left, the rubber rolled under and the sooty hatchback fishtailed when the rim hit the pavement. I wasn’t experienced enough to pull out of it, over-corrected and ditched it – running the right front wheel into the end of a concrete pipe under a driveway. Brutal, finishing damage. He told the cops he was driving.

    I’m grateful to live not too far away from where these moments occurred. It was great to revisit the roads paved with such memories. They highlight how much I’ve learned and grown. Leaving town for home, I was filled with holiday spirit, thankful for my life experiences, feeling a renewed and appreciated relief when my father protected me from the cops that day. I owe it to him to survive him well.