The Poseidon Adventure: Part 5

There are events that can make a person flip out. There are people who flip out on a routine basis.

This was not one of those times, I am not one of those people.

Flipping out is a luxury. It’s reserved for those who don’t manage their own affairs. Flipping out is for fools, morons, weaklings, poseurs, and politicians.

More to the point, things had gone bad and it was important to keep them from going worse. I was soaked in ice water, standing next to a dead motorcycle, in the middle of nowhere. Sunset was approaching. Time to get a grip and manage the situation. This isn’t as easy as it sounds:

The brain says: “OK Curmudgeon, lets assess the situation. The bike seems…”

The body says: “IT’S SCREWED! IT’S FUCKED! I HAVEN’T EVEN MADE THREE PAYMENTS YET! IT’S…”

The brain says: “Nope! Aint’ going there right now. Time to prioritize…”

The body says: “THERE’S LESS THAT 250 MILES ON IT! THIS ISN’T PART OF THE BREAK IN PROCEDURE!”

The brain says: “Shut up! That’s not highest priority right now. You need to let me be in charge!”

The body says: “BUT…”

The brain says: “No ‘buts’. Pack your emotional outburst into a nice tight ball…”

The body says: “AND?”

The brain says: “…and hurl it into the woods.”

The body says: “Ouch. You’re mean.”

The brain says: “Whatever. Calm the hell down so I can fix this.”

The body says: “I concur. But… can we?”

The brain says: “Do a Star Trek monologue?”

The body says: “Please?”

The brain says: “Hell yes!”


Me: “Damage report!”

Bones: “You idiot! You just drove into a lake!”

Me: “Worf, Bones is too emotional. Throw him out of the airlock.”

Spock: “Worf isn’t even cannon. That’s a whole different cast.”

Me: “Worf, throw Spock out of the airlock too.”

Worf: “That’s not even Start Trek, it’s 2001 A Space Odyssey!”

Me: “HAL, chuck Worf, Spock, and Bones out of the airlock.”

HAL: “It’s done.”

Josua: “Would you like to play a game?”

Data: “It seems you’ve pissed off every Star Trek fan in creation.”

Me: “And fans of WarGames?”

Data: “There are no fans of WarGames.”

Me: “Good point. OK Zuckerberg, give me a sitrep.”

Data: “You have less than 90 minutes before sunset. But no sign of hypothermia yet.”

Me: “And no injuries!”

Data: “You can always start a fire if you need to, or walk out, but perhaps in 90 minutes you could…”

Me: “Unscrew this pooch!”

Data: “Your idioms are confusing… but yes.”

Me: “OK, let’s see what I’ve inflicted on this poor machine.”

Data: “First, you may wish to send a SpotX Message. If not for rescue, at least to communicate your location; in case you, as you say, screw the pooch again.”

Me: “Good point.”

I used a pre-programmed SpotX message I set for this situation: “Shit has gotten real. Do nothing, but please monitor this and other forms of communication in case things get worse.”

The thought of people carefully staying by their phone in case I really couldn’t fix my mess was a morale booster. Also, I didn’t want to waste my precious daylight typing detailed messages into the SpotX’s little Blackberry keyboard. That’s something to do later and at leisure.

I hit the starter and it turned over. I only let it cycle a half second because something reminded me to stop.

Data: “The engine may have water in it.”

Me: “Oh yeah, hydrolock. That’d suck.”

Hydrolock is when you put a liquid, which is not compressible, into an engine cylinder that’s meant for gases, which are compressible. You can hammer an engine to death doing that. I should’ve known to stay away from that starter!

I grabbed the right sidecover, which popped right off, and retrieved the emergency tool kit.

Data: “The tool set you carefully amassed…”

Me: “Is back at the garage. I already know I suck.”

The OEM emergency tool set is chintzy but it has a nice spark plug wrench. The TW is a “thumper”; that means it’s a one-cylinder engine. I had the plug boot pulled off and the plug out of there in no time.

The idea here is to cycle the engine with the starter. With the spark plug removed, the water (if there is any) has a place to escape. Thus, avoiding hydrolock and clearing the cylinder to operate properly in the future. It’s a thing I know about but have never had to do.

The bad part is that you’re using up your scant battery. Pros and cons to all things. I cycled a bit but nowhere near enough to drain the battery. That would have to do. (I wish the TW came with a kick starter but that’s something that 2020 models don’t have. It was a stock feature from 1986 – 2000 so there’s 20 years of people getting by. I’d love to install one as a modification. In the short term, I had plans to buy a battery booster in case I ever drained my battery. In the shorter term, I’d done neither.)

It turned over pretty good, I had hope. Then popped off the left side cover. Beneath this was an air filter, though I’d never actually seen it. It took just a few minutes to figure out how it was built and unscrew the cover. I was dismayed when a teacup’s worth of pond drooled out. The air filter was soaked so I started squeezing that Charmin like my life depended on it. I had to get the water out of it.

Data: “Your SpotX has a message; it is from one of your monitors. ‘What gives?’ How shall I reply?”

My alter ego imagination sent out a message to that particular person. “I was stupid. Bike’s dead. I’m not. Sunset soon, will get cold. Stay tuned.”

The response came back in about 5 minutes, pretty fast for satellite chatter. “Can confirm. Good luck dummy.”

I opened my luggage to retrieve my dry socks. I used them to pat down the airbox. I wanted it as dry as possible.

Suddenly I paused. Wow!

Data: “Your toolbox was waterproof even under extreme conditions.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s awesome! I didn’t expect that.” The bottom box, which I’d drilled and (I belatedly remembered) forgot to seal the drill holes, was moist but not wet. My cell phone and some tools and stuff were basically fine. The thinner box above it, which is unmodified and holds a delicate iPad, was bone dry. Excellent! The zipper topped case above that, which isn’t even supposed to be waterproof, was mostly dry. I’m sure if I’d left the bike in the water for an hour the contents would be soaked, but it held for a few minutes.

Data: “A successful pass of your first real world test for the luggage.”

Me: “I’m as surprised as you.”

Data: “There’s another SpotX message for you; ‘This is Scotty. Why am I not part of your monologue? And why the hell did you drive into a lake?!?’.”

Me: “Put that thing away. I’m going to fire her up!”

By then I’d buttoned up the airbox and was ready to roll the dice. This was the moment of truth.

It didn’t start. I was crushed!

Data: “Apparently you are getting the adventure you craved; good and hard.”

Me: “Nice use of an idiom.”

Data: “I endeavor to be more like a human.”

I waved him away, this wasn’t fun anymore. “Buzz off Pinocchio.” With that, my monologue was done and I was alone again. I really was screwed. I looked at the sky, the sun was sinking. I’d definitely done this to myself. I’d chose this purchase and activity. It was planned.

I leaned against a tree and wiped a cold, soaking wet hand across my furrowed brow.

“I guess…” I was speaking to myself, miles away from the nearest other human.

“I guess this was part of the plan.”

I circled the bike. There was firewood nearby. The sun hadn’t yet set. Now what?

Then I saw it. The spark plug boot was still disconnected.

I popped it on and the bike fired right up.

YES!

It seemed to be running fine. I hurriedly grabbed my things and packed up. It’s a cold-blooded little beast and I figured it would be best to let it warm up. On a whim I grabbed my cell phone and turned it on. Surprisingly, I had service. I called voice mail to Mrs. Curmudgeon. The thing about voice mail is that it’s instant. You don’t have to worry that the message didn’t go through.

Mrs. Curmudgeon: Blearily, “Whhhaaaaat?”

Me: “You can stand down. I got this. Just wanted you to know.”

Mrs. Curmudgeon: “Huh?”

It was then that I realized Mrs. Curmudgeon had been napping. She probably hadn’t read a single one of my SpotX texts. “I’m fine, I’ve got to go. Check your texts.”

I put on my helmet and rolled out.

The ride out was actually quite lovely. It was also several miles longer than half mile I’d guessed when pondering hiking out.

I was on pins and needles. Every tiny hiccup in the motor and I thought that might be the end of it. I didn’t hesitate when the trail dumped out onto a paved road; I never even left second gear. I hightailed it for the truck with the focus of a cruise missile. By the time I got to the truck, some 10 miles after my “event”, I had a bit of what I call “Harley Idle” but the bike still ran great. I guessed the wet airbox was interrupting the air supply a bit? Or maybe there was water in the gas line? For all I knew, there was a fish in the tank! Regardless, I’d slid into home base. SAFE!

Soon the bike was in the garage, I was in the shower, and the day was done.

I’d gotten my adventure… good and hard.

Posted in Spring_2020, Travelogues, TW200 | 11 Comments

The Poseidon Adventure: Visual Aid

In case my description was insufficient, here’s a visual aid. My motorcycle trip was completely the opposite of this.

Hat tip: Daily Timewaster.

Posted in TW200 | Leave a comment

The Poseidon Adventure: Part 4

The trail continued on its jolly way but now each rut seemed mildly menacing. Having sloshed, stumbled, and squished my way across a water hazard with all the grace of a drunk elephant, I wanted to get to the other side of this particular patch of trail without retreating. I was a little cold but not too bad. As soon as I found a real road, I’d hightail it for the truck, its heater, and the complete change of clothes that’s always stashed amid my truck’s clutter.

At the moment there wasn’t much I could do. My feet and legs were coated in filthy mud. I had dry socks in my luggage but what’s the point of dry socks in wet boots?

The trail was dry and passible and everything was looking great right up until it wasn’t. Just when I thought I was nearing the salvation of another road; I met the second water hazard. Just like the first, this one could not be circumvented.

At the first water hazard my choices were left, right, or retreat. Now my choices were left, right, or retreat into something that just kicked my ass. I considered my dwindling options for a few minutes. Things weren’t too serious yet. It wasn’t too late in the day, it wasn’t too cold, and more to the point I’d have to get myself out on my own anyway. Maybe the Dodge could traverse the last hazard but that’s an iffy proposition (I don’t own a winch). Certainly Mrs. Curmudgeon couldn’t pilot the behemoth though that mess. I needed to get the bike and myself back to civilization on my own. Even if I chose to walk out, that wouldn’t help. I’d not only leave myself with the problem of abandoned equipment in the forest but I’d have to waddle thorough one of two water hazards anyway.

Adventure is like that. It gets more interesting with each problem.

I sighed. There was nothing for it. I gave up all hope of keeping my feet on the foot pegs and resigned myself to a few minutes of messy chaos. There might be swearing and some spinning of the rear tire but it would be over soon. I plunged into the second water hazard.

Bad choice!

The first water hazard exceeded my abilities but a better rider could have done it pretty well. The second water hazard was just plain stupid for anybody. (Cut me some slack, I’m still learning what can and cannot be done with an off-road motorcycle.)

Things went pear shaped right away! In just the first few feet, the front tire fucking disappeared! I had no idea the water was that deep. I didn’t have time to register surprise because everything went to shit in a flash. When the front tire vanished, it sent up a wave in front of me and I gunned it to keep up with the wave; lest the water get too deep and kill my engine. This did exactly no good because the bike sputtered out immediately. Panicked, I put my foot down to hold things up. There was nothing there.

The bike and I went over.

It was a flat out, full-fledged, no holds barred, complete wipeout. I landed on my left side… underwater!

My God it was cold!

I popped up fast and with a minimum of drama. It’s not the first time I’ve received a surprise dunking in a pond and, sadly, it probably won’t be the last.

Apparently, I had the good sense or luck to leap off the bike because I was next to the prone beast and not straddling it and flopping around like a fish in a net. Happily, I didn’t get water in my full-face helmet but pretty much every square inch of the rest of me was doused. None of this bothered me. At the time I only had two thoughts. The first was to get my feet under me… which happened more or less automatically. The second was to rescue the submerged machine… which wasn’t going to happen automatically unless I had a magic wand.

Just a few seconds after going over I had my footing and shoved the bike upright. Which, in some ways was good news. In other ways, two seconds is an eternity.

I found myself standing balls deep in the coldest damn water this side of the Arctic; clutching the handlebars in a death grip and fuming. What had gotten over me? I was absolutely shocked at myself. How is it that I’d done something this unhinged? The bike was kaput, of course, but I clicked off the ignition and reached down to shut off the gas line. There wasn’t much else I could do at the moment.

Hoping for a quick escape, I pushed the bike forward. It didn’t move an inch.

I allowed myself a brief expression of my frustration. “Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”

After that very short break, I began struggling with the bike. I quickly realized the reason it wouldn’t roll was that it was still in gear. With some splashing and several awkward kicks at the shifter I got it in neutral. Then came several minutes of pushing and grunting. I didn’t expect the struggle. Dual sport bikes come in all sizes. A TW200 is about the smallest, lightest of the breed and yet it was still a lot of work to push it out of that quagmire. Perhaps, the mud was just too deep, or perhaps the water was an issue, or maybe my balance was a mess? All I know is I got some aerobic exercise out of the situation. If I’d purchased a bigger heavier bike like a BMW I’d probably have had to do something with ropes and pulleys.

It was surely no more than 5-10 minutes before the bike and I emerged. It felt like an hour.

Once on dry land, I set it on its kickstand and would’ve collapsed on the dirt next to it to rest…except ice water was still flowing off my back and down the crack of my ass and I didn’t think lying flat would help.

Yes, I said it. “Ice water flowing down the crack of my ass”. There are high points in life and this wasn’t one of them. What sucked is the predictability of it all. Aside from me, who had played his role in this little tragedy like a predestined automaton, who is surprised? I’d been like the character in every horror movie that wanders off alone to explore the creepy basement. What a doofus!

But it certainly had been a dramatic um… sinking. Is that not why I was there? Now I had an adventure on my hands! I’d stupidly created a true shitstorm out of a chilly spring afternoon. I was in a situation which held my complete attention. Is that not the true measure of life? In a world where everyone was fretting over masks and Governor’s proclamations and edicts about barbers and businesses, I had a clearer and more important situation to handle… I’d just ridden my bike to the bottom of a pond. Also, I was definitely an idiot. World. Class. Idiot!

I could stop now but there’s more…

Posted in Spring_2020, Travelogues, TW200, Walkabout | 9 Comments

The Poseidon Adventure: Part 3

Nothing lasts forever. Eventually I got to the end of my little road. I had crossed a small ridge and emerged several miles from my starting point. I was on a main road. Actually, when I say “main road” I mean a well-traveled and properly maintained dirt road.

Lucky for me, my track continued right across the main road and kept going. There was even another sign, “Minimum Maintenance Road”. I love those signs!

Unfortunately, things started getting rough now. The ruts were deeper and muddier and more imposing. Even the snowmobiles had avoided this area. But I didn’t mind, my little bike felt ready to handle anything. I glanced at the sky; it was getting late in the day. I had time for more exploration but within a couple hours I should be hustling back to the truck. It was sure to be very cold after sunset.

Soon enough I encountered my first real water hazard. Cue the ominous music!

It didn’t look too bad really. I’ve seen about a million YouTube videos of people blasting through stuff like this; easy peasy. My only question was whether I could get across with my feet on the foot pegs or not. My worst-case scenario was mostly just wet toes.

I got off the bike and paced about, weighing my options. It was impossible to go around. I could go on the left side. I could go on the right side. I could try to ride the ridge between the two ruts (which were submerged beneath the water where I could not see them). It didn’t seem that deep and the bottom was probably sandy. Of course, there’s the ever-present option of just plain chickening out. But I wasn’t too far from that maintained road and it wasn’t too late in the day so why not go for it?

I picked the right wheel rut, put it in first gear, planted my feet firmly on the pegs, and rolled confidently into the water. It took about three feet to realize every assumption I’d made was wrong. The bottom was not sandy! The front tire was not following an identifiable wheel rut! And there was no way in hell I was keeping my bike upright without deploying outriggers.

I got my feet down just in time for the bike to stall and lose momentum. The hot muffler sent up a plume of steam. My feet were instantly drenched.

Sitting on the seat of an immobile motorcycle in the middle of what now felt like a small pond, I pulled up first one foot and then the other. So much for that set of work boots! My feet were drenched and my boots encased in a three-quarter inch thick layer of muck. Captain Obvious decided he needs proper motorcycle boots and he should have purchased them a well before the ride.

Completely chastised, I thumbed the ignition and the little bike fired right up. The rear tire got modest grip but the front was just plowing along somewhat randomly. With steering more a suggestion than an order and the bottom obscured beneath the water, I couldn’t tell where the bike wanted to go. There was no chance I could just hop on and charge for shore. Defeated and embarrassed; I duckwalked my ride through another 30’ of water and slime.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I emerged on the other side. The thing about adventure that you don’t know what’s gonna’ happen. I chuckled a little bit to myself and thought that perhaps wet feet were the beginning of a learning experience. I sent out another text on my SpotX: “Stupidly rode into muddy mess. But all is well. Will buy boots soon.”

Wet and humbled, I rolled on…

Posted in Spring_2020, Travelogues, TW200, Walkabout | 4 Comments

Another Sudden Yet Inevitable Betrayal

Western Rifle Shooters Association, one of my favorite blogs, is down. I miss them. I hope they come back soon!

Scuttlebutt (1 & 2) is that WRSA was brought down by WordPress.com. Sounds like the usual gambit: “This post isn’t politically left of Trotski so we arbitrarily shut your blog down. Never forget we’re in charge, peasant. Next time vote as you’re told.”

For Fuck’s Sake! Why am I hearing this kind of crap in 2020? I’m more upset that WRSA didn’t avoid the obvious situation than WordPress.com acted like nincompoops. WordPress is a corporation in 2020, of course they acted like nincompoops.


My blog was on wordpress.com for six and a half years (a shadow still remains). I was dependent on them and decided it was unwise. I took pains to extract myself after witnessing corporate/media’s behavior in the 2016 election cycle. Who wouldn’t?

If you’re dependent on a corporate entity (or pretty much any large organization) the question is not if but when they’ll screw you. Eventually, SJWs will run the organization and you will do as Karen says or get fucked. If you haven’t yet learned that simple lesson in 2020… the problem is you. To quote my own blog on that very topic (from 2018):

No matter who owns the vise, don’t put your nuts in it!

That’s why I left WordPress. I did it in 2016. Here’s a four year old link to explain my reasoning:

I have no ill will toward wordpress. It’s just that I am dependent on them and dependency is Latin for “eventually dumb blogger will get deleted”

Is there a price to going you own way? Sure. Freedom is not free. Self reliance is a PITA. TANSTAAFL. Etc…

I pay for all my own stuff; in time and labor. Blog hosting is a PITA and I pay fees for hosting and to register my domain and other stuff. (Thanks to everyone for the donations that keep me going! By the way, if you ever have $5 and are wondering “what can I do with this fiver to generate fun stories”… I’m your man!”)

I don’t Tweet; which costs me a huge audience. Then again Twitter is obnoxious. Nothing wise was ever debated in 140 character slogans. It’s telling that they’re in a pissing match with the President of the United States. I don’t care if you hate Orange Man or not, any group that’ll jack an account around for shits and giggles when the account is the Goddamn President is out of control. If they can hose the Donald, folks like you and me haven’t a chance. Incidentally, that’s exactly Twitter’s reputation. They’re known for nuking bloggers and secretly rerouting traffic.

I also don’t F***book. That costs me a lot of publicity too. I setup an Adaptive Curmudgeon F***book presence but never use it. Facebook unnerves me; it’s built from the ground up as a snitch factory. Also Facebook is run by the Karen army. Getting kicked off Facebook is pretty much a given for anyone who thinks beyond a meme. They’d eventually throttle my presence for aggravated wrongthink. Plus the setup experience made me feel like a whore.

YouTube likes to demonetize people for inexplicable reasons that always seem to lean left (it’s almost like there’s a pattern). Thus, I won’t expand into video. If you’re wondering why there aren’t videos of me sailing into rocks or riding my motorcycle into trees… now you know.

I forgo an absolute mammoth amount of attention I might otherwise get. But I also keep my balls out of their vise. That the true condition of freedom of speech in American in 2020. So repeat after me: Corporations are not your friends. Don’t act like they care. How many shots across the bow do you need?

A.C.

P.S. It’s only fair I mention my use of these guys:

tipjar

Amazon

Are they corporate entities? Yes. Would they, therefore, love to screw me? Of course. Will they? Probably. Have they yet? Nope… but when it inevitably happens I won’t be surprised. I’m ready for it. (In fact, Amazon cut off one spigot of money a few years ago. When it happened, many blogs wen’t dark. I wasn’t among them. I was never Amazon’s bitch so I skated.) I still link to Amazon stuff and I still get a kickback that costs you nothing. So far they’re mostly about commerce and not politics so I can live with it. So by all means click on any Amazon link I’ve posted (like to the cool new toolboxes I bought), and then buy anything you want. If it’s something huge I get a big reward and buy liquor. If it’s small, I’m still happy and buy beer. Regardless, I never get too dependent on them. That’s the key, none of the three (Patreon, PayPal, Patreon, or Amazon) can kill my blog. Corporations act like nincompoops… don’t let nincompoops near the kill switch!

Posted in Uncategorized | 15 Comments

The Poseidon Adventure: Part 2

The day dawned clear and cold. I had cabin fever the likes of which would scare Jack Nicholson. It was cold, but sunny; close enough to summer for me. Time to ride!

I grabbed my keys, strode towards my garage, and then used every bit of my self-control to veer away… I had work to do. I spent the next six hours working and going slowly mad. Being an adult sucks!

By late afternoon I’d finished my work and it was time to play. It was about 50°. Summer hadn’t yet arrived and I was pushing the season. Well aware of the risks (and knowing that I was both inexperienced with off-road motorcycles and new to this machine) I decided to carry some extra stuff. I packed some extra clothes, an MRE, water, matches, flashlight, etc.… The usual survival kit for playing in less than ideal conditions.

I’m trying to train myself to leave a trail of virtual breadcrumbs with my SpotX. Mrs. Curmudgeon and a select few got my departing message; “Going off-road to explore. All is well.”

With that, I was gone!

I wasted some time wondering about country roads looking to start the true ride. Eventually I found my target, an imposing sign that said “Minimum Maintenance Road”. I’ve seen signs like that in many states and many places and I always hate passing one without investigating. It was finally my time to sniff about and see what I could find.

I found this particular sign about a month ago. At the time, the road was locked by deep packed snowdrifts. It had spent the winter as the domain of snowmobiles, and judging from the frozen tracks, snowmobiles had passed there in herds. As the thaw progressed, the snowmobiles gave way but the drift was still there and even walking that road would have been nearly impossible. By now, the ground was muddy but snow free.

And what a glorious road it was! I leapt at the sight and was a half-mile down the track before I calmed down and forced myself to stop. I sent another SpotX breadcrumb: “Min Maint Road. W00t!” These messages include navigation information. The more I send them, the stronger my habit of building that information trail will grow. I had my cell phone stashed in my luggage. I checked it was receiving my breadcrumbs. Interesting to know that I was still within cell phone reception. (Using a cell phone to test the SpotX seems redundant, but it’s the best testing plan I can think of.)

I turned the cell phone off and stowed it my waterproof luggage. Now the fun would really begin! It was a bit cold but I had heavy gear and was warm enough.

As soon as that sign disappeared behind me, everything was perfect! The road, just parallel wheel tracks from some tractors and a few ATVs, was easy but not too easy. My plucky little steed and I sputtered along through ruts that would hinder my huge Dodge and eat a minivan, but there was nothing too “technical”.

I rode slow and happy. I found myself humming in my helmet. I had the world to myself. Several times I stopped to enjoy the scenery and breathe the air of a forest slowly waking from a long winter. I wasn’t summiting a mountain or carving canyons, I was just chugging along amid grazing lands and old logging roads; just what I wanted.

This is why I bought the bike. Not to blast like a rocket but to saunter. Stress flowed away. Peace descended upon me. I smile at the memory…

Of course, you know there’s more. Stay tuned…

Posted in Spring_2020, Travelogues, TW200, Walkabout | Leave a comment

The Poseidon Adventure: Part 1

This is the post you knew was coming. The moment I started pondering the purchase of an Argo or ATV was the first step on the direct linear path to this moment.

A moth to flame, I.


Since you already know where I’m headed, I’ll start with the ending.

I leaned against a tree and wiped a cold, soaking wet hand across my furrowed brow. “I guess…” I was speaking to myself, miles away from the nearest other human.

“I guess this was part of the plan.”

Nearby, perched crookedly between some wheel ruts, stood my stout uncomplaining steed; my brand spanking new Yamaha TW200. It was filthy. Water was dripping from every nook and cranny. It was not running.

“There’s no getting around it.” I thought. “I sunk that bitch like a cannonball hurled into the Mariana Trench.”

Stay tuned…

Posted in Spring_2020, Travelogues, TW200, Walkabout | 1 Comment

TW200 Mods, Cargo Carrying In Style

Many posts on my blog are about how I’ve screwed up. Which, if you think about it, is where a lot of the fun in life happens for everyone. I’m just sayin’. Anyway, sometimes I get it right. This time I hit a home run.

I had to face the eternal challenge of motorcycles; “how does one carry stuff on in a way that’s waterproof, impact resistant, convenient, and well balanced… oh yeah, and do it cheap”. I came up with a solution that totally rocks!

I decided to repurpose Milwaukee Packout toolboxes. I’m happy as a pig in shit with my clever little idea! It’s cheaper than virtually any commercial motorcycle stuff, modular, tough, allows easy access, it’s lockable, and even looks OK. In my humble opinion, it’s better than something that would cost five times as much.

First, take a look at the rear rack I’ve already installed on my Yamaha TW200. The stock bike has no room and a load limit of “more or less nuthin'” so you’ve got to start by mounting a rack. I chose a CycleRack. It’s tough as nails and easy to install. Maybe it’s not the prettiest thing in the world but I’ll choose utility over pretty every damn day.

What I mounted to that nice solid base was a Milwaukee Packout. Here it is with the price tag still attached. I was doing a “test fit”. It’s perfect!

Notice how it doesn’t hang out over the edges? Yeah, that’s a feature! If (when!) I smash into a tree there’s about 3/4″ between the rack (which also sticks out a bit and protects some of the bike’s body cladding) and the load. I like that. It also means I’ve got access to the rack for tying stuff down. There are never too many “mount points” for lashing stuff to a motorcycle!

Milwaukee’s Packout ecosystem has about a zillion pieces that interlock like Legos. What you’re looking for is the 1/2 width pieces. That means the pieces which are designed to lock to either the left or right half of a bigger toolbox. The full width stuff is too unwieldy for a motorcycle.

The half width stack starts with either the Regular Milwaukee Packout or the thinner Compact Milwaukee Packout. Aside from thickness, the only difference I’ve found is the handle. The Compact Milwaukee Packout has a fixed handle and the Regular Milwaukee Packout has a folding handle. The two look fine when locked together.

Both lock to each other. Both come with five little cups to organize your shit (which I immediately removed). Both have watertight sealing gaskets and nice hinges and dual points that close it and a place to put a padlock. Neither handle is a problem when mounted to the motorcycle.

Miraculously, the Regular Milwaukee Packout fits exactly around the upraised bar on a CycleRack! It makes centering much easier and it’s a very solid place to mount. I suppose it even protects the Packout in case I back into a tree(!). It fits perfectly!

The bottom of Packouts are uneven. They’re almost exactly like a Lego in how they hook together. This makes drilling holes a bit of a chore. I did my best and it came out like this. In an unrelated note, my 20 year old cheap ass drill press died when I was doing this. All those mouse nests finally ate the thing. I’m in the market for a drill press now.

I bought plain u-bolts (stainless steel now that I think about it) for the mounting. They wrap around the CycleRack and stick up through the bottom of the Packout. I used locknuts to keep it there and splurged on a buck’s worth of little white protectors to keep my crap from getting scratched up. I could only fit the rectangular washer thing (what is it called?) on two of four mounts. I was worried about this but it has no impact at all. No cracks or vibration stress at all so far. I’m not sure if four mounts was necessary but I like to be extra careful.

Packouts stack like Legos… but better! Once you’ve drilled and mounted one, you just snap others on top.

The “Legos” can stack as high as you want. They all have the same footprint (which is about 10″ x 16 1/4″… I note the specs on Amazon vary a bit which is weird but the half width Packouts all match their footprint). The difference among the “Legos” is height. The Compact is about 2 1/2″ tall, the Regular is about 4 1/2″ tall, and there’s a Compact Toolbox which is a hefty 16″ tall.

The Compact seems weird but it’s absolutely perfect for an iPad. I have an iPad something or other… the middle sized one I think. With a modest case on it, the iPad fits width wise to absolutely the perfect amount. Not too tight, not shifting back and forth. I add one or two slim packets of baby wipes on top of the iPad and it’s the right thickness; it can’t bounce up / down. (And Baby Wipes are a damn good thing to have on the trail!) I added two Altoids Arctic tins and that locks it in the third direction. Just tight enough that it’s not squeezed but not bouncing around. (Pay attention here: this is Altoids Arctic tins… not regular Altoids tins.) Those things all work together incredibly well. I’ve got it setup so sweet I think I could drop this thing off a cliff and the iPad would be unaffected. Also, in a 2 1/2″ thick waterproof, ruggedized slab you’ve stashed everything to have an iPad (with Avenza for navigation), a clean ass, and fresh breath. That’s some slick packin’!

Aside from the iPad, a compact might be great for a small fishing tackle box. I’ll report back on that in the future. If, for some inexplicable reason you wanted to carry a pistol and had a perverse desire to have it in a box instead of a holster… that’s another good use of the compact. Though that probably only applies to folks in California?

The Regular is my main workhorse. Right now it’s filled with tools and matches and a knife and survival shit. I’ll sort out exactly what I need as I try things out.

The Compact Toolbox is too tall for my purposes. I’ve never seen one in real life. If you had an ATV, I’d say go for it and stack to the moon but for a bike it might be pushing it.

In addition to the “Legos” (which can stack infinitely high), there are pieces that must be “top of the stack”. These lock on top of “Legos” but you can’t stack on top of them.

I chose a Milwaukee Packout 15″ Tool Bag. It’s just about the right size. Ideally you wouldn’t need it at all on short rides but I’m still “getting my feet wet” (literally) and have been carrying a bit more than “minimal” until I get used to what’s needed and not. You access the Tool Bag by opening a zipper. It’s not waterproof but I can say I’ve splashed it plenty with mudpuddles and that hasn’t gotten my stuff wet. It’s fabric instead of hard plastic but it’s plenty reinforced. If you somehow tear it while riding it was probably in an act you won’t survive anyway. It’s that tough.

In the Tool Bag, I’m carrying snacks and an MRE, a water bottle, some maps, an old MSR bottle of spare fuel (I’ll refine fuel carrying in due time), and spare warm clothes. I could fit a lot more but the idea is to strike a balance between “prepared for anything” and “loaded like a minivan”. The Tool Bag has two outside pockets. It’s probably best to keep your water and gas on the outside and away from your clothes anyway.

If you stash stuff in the side pockets, clip it down with a carabiner or it might fly out. (Ask me how I know this.) Since this is “top of the stack” it’s a great place for light but bulky stuff. A sweatshirt or sleeping bag makes sense, but don’t get stupid and carry a bowling ball up there. The shoulder strap is removable (so remove it… now it’s a carabiner’s anchor) and the sewed on handles don’t get in the way while riding. (They might come in handy for strapping things down.) There are outside places to strap other things. A spare hat or whatnot might make sense there. Just keep the weight under control.

There are (as far as I know) three “top of the stack” options; Milwaukee Packout BackpackMilwaukee Packout Cooler, and Milwaukee Packout 15″ Tool Bag. There may be more but these are what I’ve seen myself. I’d be wary of open topped totes… your fond memories of a milk crate on a bicycle leave out the memory of all that shit flying out of the unsecured top when you ride hard. The cooler is awesome but I seldom carry beer while camping/exploring and prefer to carry stuff like jackets and dry socks.

The backpack might be awesome but it was a little more expensive so I chickened out and didn’t buy it. At the time I wasn’t sure how the Packout system would all work together when bolted to a motorcycle. Now I know it’s damn perfect. The backpack might be very cool if I wanted to step off the bike and go hunting. It’s about the size of a hefty daypack. It’s setup for electrician’s type tools but could be used as a hunting daypack just fine. (If you’re one of those guys who can’t endure hunting gear unless it’s your favorite flavor of camo, this might be an issue for you. I’m ambivalent about camo. I’m wonder how much of camo’s appeal is just for the humans buying it and how much it actually improves your hunting odds.)

Here’s my total purchase of two Regular Packouts (one is now drilled and bolted to the CycleRack), one Compact Packout. and the “top of the stack” 15″ Tool Bag. I can’t remember exactly what I paid for everything but I think you can have that whole set, and the u-bolts and some Altoids and whatnot, for about $100. Try that with a “made for motorcycles” Givi topcase!

The cool part is you can mix and match as you see fit. Here’s an in-motion test from an early ride with two regulars. I think I’ve already posted photos of a huge deer blind strapped on top of the one permanent regular? Get creative y’all!

So far I’ve mostly been using the permanent regular, the slim for my iPad, and the tool tote for food and an MRE. (Leaving the other regular home.) I can say that the three piece ensemble has ridden about 100 miles (about 50% off road) like it wasn’t even there.

Well that’s my big win of my motorcycle outfitting. The important part is that it’s summer! Get out there and play!

Posted in TW200 | 11 Comments

TW200 Mods, Front Rack

If there’s one thing every guy knows, it’s how to appreciate a front rack. [OK, that’s a dumb joke, but it had to be done.]

Putting weight on the front forks of a motorcycle is not necessarily wise. But some folks got in the habit of doing so and I think front racks just have an awesome Mad Max vibe that I can’t help but appreciate. I suspect the original idea was for when you’ve got a huge elk quarter on the rear and need a counterbalance to keep the front wheel on the ground. Or maybe that’s a bullshit story and I’m just believing crap I saw on the internet?

All I know is I very much wanted a front rack for several reasons:

  • It looks cool… zombie apocalypse approved.
  • If I need to grab hold of the front of the bike and physically drag it somewhere… like with a z-drag… I want a nice solid anchor point.
  • You can never have too much carrying capacity.
  • Did I mention it looks cool?

Unfortunately, a front rack is expensive. But as luck would have it, I found some fella on the internet that had bought a used TW and was trying to get rid of the front rack that came with it. I helped out, a few bucks changed hands via paypal, and $20 worth of shipping later I was looking at a used (not new!) rack on my workbench.

It came with no hardware. No instructions. It had a little rust, but nothing too bad. I got it for under half of what new would cost.

Here it is next to the skidplate I mentioned in my last post.

After a few days sniffing around the internet I figured how to install it. It took virtually no effort and it’s integrated into the front fork rock solid. It might actually protect the front a bit if I run into a tree or something… or not. Point is, it’s solid.

Also…

IT LOOKS COOL!

It’s not particularly practical. If I put anything heavy up there I might alter the steering balance. If I put anything bulky there I’ll block my headlamp. BUT IT LOOKS COOL!

I immediately tested it out and it was indeed handy. In these photos I’m lugging a big ass hunting ground blind on the back. I had a little propane stove in the blind and I couldn’t figure out how to carry it at the same time as the blind. Viola! Strap it down to the front with a cheap old bungee net and it worked slick as snot.

The little mule is shaping up to be an even better cargo hauler than I expected. This particular location is a stone cold bitch to get in there with an ATV. There are big rocks that hide in the grass to pound my ATV’s undercarriage and even high center it. The plucky TW is too narrow to understand the concept, it just zips to the left or right of any big rock and sweeps through just as fast as I can lift my foot out of the way and hang on. Wow!


I began a search for the perfect thing to carry on my new VERY COOL LOOKING rack. I came up with a Redcamp Wood Burning Folding Camp Stove:

Ignore for a moment that the wood stove appears to be hovering in space and the background has a hipster chick in a pretentious hat and a blonde eating a marshmallow that might be beat her in chess. The stove itself seems pretty solid.

I’ve used mine 3-4 times and been pleased with how it handles combustion. It’s pretty slick, you can have a fire in wind without hassles, and toss a bratwurst on the top for damn near instant lunch.

I got the large size. I’ve been wanting a stove like that anyway. I have an Ohuro “twig stove” that I’ve enjoyed but is also small and finicky. I simply have more carrying capacity when the bike does the work.

It’s too heavy for backpacking but folded up and zipped in it’s nice case, it should fit perfectly on the front rack. I haven’t tested it on the bike yet. I need better straps before I try. But all indications are I’ve found the perfect thing to sit right beneath the headlight beam and make camping more fun.

Here’s another photo. It’s stainless steel and fairly beefy. After you use it, it’ll lose some of the gloss. It’s a firebox, not a laptop. I give it the thumbs up for combustion, but haven’t tested long term reliability… then again it’s $35, not a lot to risk. YMMV

Posted in TW200 | 14 Comments

TW200 Mods, Skidplate

My little TW is said to be nearly unkillable. That said, me and Murphy’s Law have a long and storied acquaintance.

One of the very few weaknesses to a Yamaha TW200 is the low crankcase. You could conceivably smash the crankcase into a sharp rock and damage it. Realistically, this kind of event has a low likelihood of happening, especially since I am trying (somewhat unsuccessfully) to be mellow. Also, the good folks at Yamaha equipped the TW with a skidplate. Here’s the brand new OEM skidplate with a bespoke applied patina of organics:

Not a scratch on it. But it just looked too wimpy for my tastes. I wanted something better.

My reasoning is that I’m stupid. If there’s a sharp rock I’ll be drawn to it like a moth to flame. The second bit of reasoning is I travel solo. Normally off road people travel in packs. When one damages his or her ride, everyone else has a good laugh and then bails their fellow traveler out. No huge penalty for the mistake.

Not so for me. Just about any off road machine can get you far enough into nowhere that hiking out on your own is a solid gold pain in the ass. If you’ve ever had an unplanned 15 mile hike… you know it’s something best avoided. If you’ve ever hiked half of 15 miles before it got dark, hunkered down overnight by the trail, and continued on… you know it sucks. If it happened while raining… well you know.

So, to prepare for the worst and stack the deck in my favor using mechanical overkill, I ordered a upgraded skidplate from Ricochet. I can’t recommend this upgrade enough. It cost about $100 and you can find them on Amazon. (Note: Ricochet sells a zillion skidplates so make sure you’re getting the right one.) I can’t remember if I ordered via Amazon or directly from Ricochet but I think the price was the same either way.

If you’re the sort that cares about such things, you can get the skidplate with an array of powder-coated colors. It’s only about $20 more. Honestly, it would dress up a plain little TW quite nicely. However, I expect mine to be covered in mud 99% of the time so I didn’t bother with a color.

The replacement vastly exceeded my expectations. You could bludgeon a moose to death with this beast!

This is what the two look like side by side. I have no complaints about Yamaha’s design, it’s a $4,500 motorcycle and decisions have to be made. But the replacement is a bad ass improvement.

Installation was pretty easy. I wanted to use anti-seize on the bolts (which are included) but during the COVID flake-out I couldn’t get any. I plan to add anti-seize in due time… and I’ll probably forget all about it.

I can’t remember if the replacement bolts are metric or SAE. I am carrying emergency tools in metric sizes. I may, in due time, swap to metric just to be safe. Also two of the included bolts are monster Torx bolts. Nobody normal will have a monster Torx socket on the trail. (I had to order Torx sockets on Amazon and wait a week for delivery.) I’m not sure why you’d ever need to pull the skidplate (if you hit something hard enough to trash the skidplate… you’re already dead) but that’s something to think about.

In case you’re wondering, the skidplate doesn’t interfere with oil changes. Once it’s installed, just leave it on.

So, this is almost certainly overkill but I have no regrets. It even looks good.

BTW: This skidplate, like the rack, was funded by Paypal and Patreon donations. No shit guys, I really appreciate every penny.

Also, you might think I’m bolting a gazillion dollars of farkle onto this basement priced little motorcycle but it actually came in under budget and I’m almost done. Upgrading from basic OEM to Curmudgeon-approved death mule has been pretty inexpensive. For example, put a skidplate on your Toyota and then come back and look at what I did for under a C-note. Of course, there’s always more cool shit to add, but I’m not far from declaring it “good to go” and seeing how far I can get.

Posted in TW200 | 6 Comments