Sunday, August 24, 2014
Jillian's first game of golf!
Jillian has had a set of clubs since she was very young. She has hit balls out in the field at Grandma and Grandpa's, and been to several putting courses, but never played an actual round. Jillian and I decided to try out "The Kid's Course" here in Gladstone.
Basically it's a 9 hole Par 3 course in which anyone is invited to play,
including children. Jillian played better than me. Sure, her hits
weren't as far, but they were definitely more accurate.
Jillian after completing her first hole EVER!
back swing...
impact...
follow through!
Overall cuteness
Circus Camp!
A couple of weeks ago, Jillian attended Circus Camp. On the last day they presented the parents with a circus to show off the skills and tricks they learned.
Monday, August 18, 2014
2002 Kawasaki Concours vs 2012 Harley 883 Sportster.
"What?", you say? How is a comparison between a 2002 Concours and a 2012 Harley 883 Sportster even possible? Well, I'll start from the beginning.
Four friends, D, Frannie, and Tim, and I, set off on Sunday for what would have been a beautiful 500 mile ride through Washington and Oregon. I was the only one on a Connie and the others had different makes of newer Harley's. We started by going into Washington and riding Hwy 14 along the Columbia Gorge. If you ever visit the Gorge, don't even bother with riding the Oregon side. We were met with a nice 2 lane highway full of curves and rolling hills that started in forested landscape and ended at high desert. The Connie worked well, but I wish I had a little more airflow. The heat from the engine was getting a little annoying the further we rode and the more the day warmed up. At Hwy 97 we went south into the high desert canyons Stopping in Madras, OR for gas.
After 200 miles and about 5 miles south of Madras, D pulled over because of a wobbling rear wheel. After checking it over we determined that a faulty rear wheel bearing was to blame. The Harley Fat Bob was a 2009 with about 14K miles and still under warranty, so obviously we had no spare parts. We were at least able to limp at 5mph to a KOA about 500 yards ahead to sit in some shade and grab some water and snacks. Several phone calls and 3 hours later, a friend with a trailer arrived and we had D's bike loaded, a plan to get it to the shop, and we were ready to get home. The problem… 4 riders, 3 bikes, and only my Connie will fit 2 up.
Now, I'm fine with my masculinity, but not comfortable enough on the Connie to ride 2 up. D, on the other hand, has plenty of motorcycle experience that includes racing, owning a Connie and 2 up riding. Being the confident friend that I am, I offered to ride on the back. D wasn't to keen on this plan so Frannie offered her 2012 883 sportster to me and said she would ride on the back. This is where the comparison begins…
I hopped on the tiny Sportster and realized this is the low edition with the low and short seat… and no highway pegs. Now, at 5' 7", I'm not a tall guy, but this was a little too short. Oh well, whatever it takes to get home. Next step was to adjust the mirrors… they wouldn't budge. Check for controls and find out the turn signals each have a different switch, left turn is on the left side of the bar and right turn is on the right side of the bar. Alrighty then, let's start her up. HOLY CRAP! The vibration is killing me after 15 seconds and I haven't even got it into gear! This is going to be a LOOOOONG ride home. Within the first 5 miles of hitting the highway I'm already tired. There is no screen breaking the wind, just me and my mesh jacket. Damn, I should have put the liner in my jacket before heading off; it's right there in that saddle bag… on MY Concours… in front of me. I guess I'll get it at the next gas stop. Luckily that won't be too far with this little peanut tank. I look at my mirrors to check for our third rider, Tim. Well, good thing the mirrors didn't adjust, because the vibration makes them useless anyway; everything looks like a Monet painting. No, way more abstract; maybe a Pollock?
After a few more miles and searching for a SIXTH gear, I came to realize that the Sportster had a sweet spot for highway cruising… 60mph. At that speed the vibration just magically reduces. It never goes away, but it gets pleasantly more comfortable. Problem is the 2 other bikes want to go 65 to 70mph. Luckily we start to drop into the Deschutes canyons and this is where the little bike really starts to "shine?" Ok, it's more of a "luster." It's easy to throw into the corners and if you pick the right gear, it can be a bit of fun. There's plenty of torque to get back up the canyons, but upon coming out, the others speed up and the wind blows me around. After about 115 miles, I have to pull over to gas up. Wait, I… can't… move. I peel myself from the small bike and walk like an 89 year old man to MY Connie while my friends laugh. At least I can have some comfort in knowing that the couple on my bike are in full leather and sweating to death from the heat radiating up from its engine. Frannie then informs me that my bike is, "…soo smooth, it feels like your floating on air." URGGGGG. If only I could stand up straight.
After getting my jacket liner from my Connie's spacious saddle bags, and D and Frannie, shedding as much as they can, we head back west toward Portland on Interstate 84. Then it hit's me; no, not a bug, or vehicle, but a memory. Back in the 90's I owned a Suzuki Intruder with a similar seating position. If I just slouch down, push my crotch to the front tip of the seat, straighten my arms completely and do my best "Easy Rider," impression… hey, that's a little better. At least my head isn't being tossed around like a bobble head doll. Now I'm in a groove. Wait, why is Tim passing us? He want's to pull over? ARE YOU KIDDING ME, I just figured this out! Into the rest stop we go, only to find out that his 2014 Harley (yes, it's this years model), is giving him an electrical warning. Turns out that it has to do with his brake lights, and decides to keep riding. Back on the road we go, my body feeling like I have been in a 12 round fight with Mike Tyson, yet as each landmark goes by, showing me I'm closer to Portland, the happier I get. Entering the city limits… "YES!" We're exiting onto I-205… "Thank the good Lord above." Exit off the freeway and into city streets… Now this is where the little Sportster feels at home. As we pull in to D's driveway, I feel a bit of hope come back. We all made it safe, had a hell of an adventure and a good laugh. I did my "old man" walk to my friends, gave hugs and goodbyes and swung my leg over the Concours.
WOW! Feel this plush seat! Turn it over, "Is this thing on? It's so quiet." Engage the clutch, put it in gear, and sigh. SMOOOOOTH. Short ride to the house and enjoying that big screen blocking the wind. What's that? A little heat radiating up from the engine to keep me warm as it get's dark. Two stops from the house and I turn on the left turn signal and find that the back one is not working. Must be a light out; I'll fix that when I get home. As I take the lens cover off, I notice it's not that the bulb is burned out, but it came out of the socket! Plug it back in and works like a charm. It must have gotten shaken loose being too close to those Harleys.
Four friends, D, Frannie, and Tim, and I, set off on Sunday for what would have been a beautiful 500 mile ride through Washington and Oregon. I was the only one on a Connie and the others had different makes of newer Harley's. We started by going into Washington and riding Hwy 14 along the Columbia Gorge. If you ever visit the Gorge, don't even bother with riding the Oregon side. We were met with a nice 2 lane highway full of curves and rolling hills that started in forested landscape and ended at high desert. The Connie worked well, but I wish I had a little more airflow. The heat from the engine was getting a little annoying the further we rode and the more the day warmed up. At Hwy 97 we went south into the high desert canyons Stopping in Madras, OR for gas.
After 200 miles and about 5 miles south of Madras, D pulled over because of a wobbling rear wheel. After checking it over we determined that a faulty rear wheel bearing was to blame. The Harley Fat Bob was a 2009 with about 14K miles and still under warranty, so obviously we had no spare parts. We were at least able to limp at 5mph to a KOA about 500 yards ahead to sit in some shade and grab some water and snacks. Several phone calls and 3 hours later, a friend with a trailer arrived and we had D's bike loaded, a plan to get it to the shop, and we were ready to get home. The problem… 4 riders, 3 bikes, and only my Connie will fit 2 up.
Now, I'm fine with my masculinity, but not comfortable enough on the Connie to ride 2 up. D, on the other hand, has plenty of motorcycle experience that includes racing, owning a Connie and 2 up riding. Being the confident friend that I am, I offered to ride on the back. D wasn't to keen on this plan so Frannie offered her 2012 883 sportster to me and said she would ride on the back. This is where the comparison begins…
I hopped on the tiny Sportster and realized this is the low edition with the low and short seat… and no highway pegs. Now, at 5' 7", I'm not a tall guy, but this was a little too short. Oh well, whatever it takes to get home. Next step was to adjust the mirrors… they wouldn't budge. Check for controls and find out the turn signals each have a different switch, left turn is on the left side of the bar and right turn is on the right side of the bar. Alrighty then, let's start her up. HOLY CRAP! The vibration is killing me after 15 seconds and I haven't even got it into gear! This is going to be a LOOOOONG ride home. Within the first 5 miles of hitting the highway I'm already tired. There is no screen breaking the wind, just me and my mesh jacket. Damn, I should have put the liner in my jacket before heading off; it's right there in that saddle bag… on MY Concours… in front of me. I guess I'll get it at the next gas stop. Luckily that won't be too far with this little peanut tank. I look at my mirrors to check for our third rider, Tim. Well, good thing the mirrors didn't adjust, because the vibration makes them useless anyway; everything looks like a Monet painting. No, way more abstract; maybe a Pollock?
After a few more miles and searching for a SIXTH gear, I came to realize that the Sportster had a sweet spot for highway cruising… 60mph. At that speed the vibration just magically reduces. It never goes away, but it gets pleasantly more comfortable. Problem is the 2 other bikes want to go 65 to 70mph. Luckily we start to drop into the Deschutes canyons and this is where the little bike really starts to "shine?" Ok, it's more of a "luster." It's easy to throw into the corners and if you pick the right gear, it can be a bit of fun. There's plenty of torque to get back up the canyons, but upon coming out, the others speed up and the wind blows me around. After about 115 miles, I have to pull over to gas up. Wait, I… can't… move. I peel myself from the small bike and walk like an 89 year old man to MY Connie while my friends laugh. At least I can have some comfort in knowing that the couple on my bike are in full leather and sweating to death from the heat radiating up from its engine. Frannie then informs me that my bike is, "…soo smooth, it feels like your floating on air." URGGGGG. If only I could stand up straight.
After getting my jacket liner from my Connie's spacious saddle bags, and D and Frannie, shedding as much as they can, we head back west toward Portland on Interstate 84. Then it hit's me; no, not a bug, or vehicle, but a memory. Back in the 90's I owned a Suzuki Intruder with a similar seating position. If I just slouch down, push my crotch to the front tip of the seat, straighten my arms completely and do my best "Easy Rider," impression… hey, that's a little better. At least my head isn't being tossed around like a bobble head doll. Now I'm in a groove. Wait, why is Tim passing us? He want's to pull over? ARE YOU KIDDING ME, I just figured this out! Into the rest stop we go, only to find out that his 2014 Harley (yes, it's this years model), is giving him an electrical warning. Turns out that it has to do with his brake lights, and decides to keep riding. Back on the road we go, my body feeling like I have been in a 12 round fight with Mike Tyson, yet as each landmark goes by, showing me I'm closer to Portland, the happier I get. Entering the city limits… "YES!" We're exiting onto I-205… "Thank the good Lord above." Exit off the freeway and into city streets… Now this is where the little Sportster feels at home. As we pull in to D's driveway, I feel a bit of hope come back. We all made it safe, had a hell of an adventure and a good laugh. I did my "old man" walk to my friends, gave hugs and goodbyes and swung my leg over the Concours.
WOW! Feel this plush seat! Turn it over, "Is this thing on? It's so quiet." Engage the clutch, put it in gear, and sigh. SMOOOOOTH. Short ride to the house and enjoying that big screen blocking the wind. What's that? A little heat radiating up from the engine to keep me warm as it get's dark. Two stops from the house and I turn on the left turn signal and find that the back one is not working. Must be a light out; I'll fix that when I get home. As I take the lens cover off, I notice it's not that the bulb is burned out, but it came out of the socket! Plug it back in and works like a charm. It must have gotten shaken loose being too close to those Harleys.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Meet Beau
We took a drive to Hood River to meet a dog named Beau. After an hour
of meet and greet, we agreed that we would foster him for a minimum of 2
weeks. He's quite handsome, about 8 years old, great with other dogs,
cats and kids. In the short time we have had him he has really grown on
us. His past owner died unexpectedly. You may be seeing more of Beau in
the future.
Gladstone cruise in
Gladstone had a car show so we checked it out in the morning to check out some cool cars. Jillian got to sit in the front and back of an old 1920's Paddy wagon.
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