"When Did it Turn into a Freaking Fashion Show?"A good friend of mine works down at the local BMW/Ducati/MV Augusta dealership. As you may have guessed from the brands they carry, this is no ordinary, greasy-floored shop. It's one of those upscale joints that cater to what we working stiffs might call the financially comfortable, or maybe less charitably, RUBs (Rich Urban Bikers). I drop in from time to time to catch up with my buddy and because it's always fun to see how the other half lives. Besides, there's generally some interesting machinery inside, even though it's usually priced far beyond my means.
On my last visit to this bastion of conspicuous consumerism, I noticed a well-worn, mid-'70s, airhead BMW parked on the lift. Finding the old crock there wasn't a huge surprise; the shop does a fair amount of work on vintage bikes, particularly those flying the blue-and-white roundel. But what caught my attention was a sticker on one side cover that read: "When did it turn into a freaking fashion show?" Actually, it didn't say "freaking," but that's close enough for this magazine.
My reaction was to agree with the sentiments of the sticker, at least at first glance. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to appreciate how off base it was. For starters, I thought the sticker, though entertaining in a curmudgeonly sort of way, was disingenuous. After all, isn't a sticker commenting on fashion a fashion statement of its own?
To my way of thinking, fashion has always been part of the American motorcycle experience. At least it's been that way since the Model T Ford came along. The Tin Lizzie was cheap, reliable and able to haul a lot more than any motorcycle. It revolutionized the way Americans lived and traveled, and because it was so much better as a "sensible" form of transportation, it soon began to displace motorcycles from that role.
By the 1930s motorcycles in the U.S. were transitioning, at least in the public's mind, from utilitarian devices to ones with more sporting pretensions. Since then, motorcycles here have generally been considered more of a plaything than a practical device.Now, you can dispute the point all you want, but I think history is on my side. Just for fun I dug up an old motorcycle-accessories catalog from the 1920s. Among the ads for practical items like the Mesinger sprung-leaf saddle or universal reed-bodied sidecar (finished in Baronial stain, shellacked and varnished) were the same sort of geegaws and gimcracks we buy today. For instance, there was the S-C-R-E-A-M motorcycle whistle, "which will surely attract attention when attached to your exhaust." Or for the sartorially conscious, Halco leggings offered "over 150 styles available in either leather or canvas." Later catalogs list things like handlebar streamers, cat's-eye studs to insert in your seat or saddlebags and, of course, the ever-popular riding cap, complete with chinstrap and winged-wheel emblem. I'm also particularly fond of manufacturers' ads of the era (especially from Harley-Davidson) that portrayed smiling riders dressed in riding breeches, boots and neckties. If those weren't fashion statements, I don't know what is.I'm not really sure what had the Beemer pilot's knickers in a twist. Certainly the current crop of riders is better dressed and rides more exotic bikes than it did when his airhead was new. But that doesn't make them bad people, does it? When I started riding, most bikes needed major overhauls every 40,000 miles, helmets were open-faced and of dubious quality, and good riding gear was practically nonexistent. What dedicated clothing was available was basically limited to leather or waxed cotton (like the Model T, available in any color you wanted so long as it was black).
It wasn't much of a fashion show back then, though I'll admit that on occasion it was certainly a dog and pony show. Was it fun? Hell yes. Do I want to go back there on a full-time basis? Absolutely not.
I suppose that some people are attracted to motorcycles for what you or I consider to be the wrong motives. But my fervent hope is that while they may have come to the party for the costume or for the ego boost, they'll stay once they discover how much fun we're all having. Besides, who really cares? If someone has enough dough to indulge his every motorcycling fancy, more power to him. There's no law that says you have to buy into it or even be cordial to someone if you don't like it.
The bottom line is that everyone rides for their own reasons. In some cases, yes, it's to make a fashion statement. Now if that's your only reason for riding, I feel sorry for you. We all know there's more to it than that. But c'mon, tell the truth, how many of you can honestly say you can ride past a plate-glass window without admiring your own reflection?
Q&AIt PullsQ I have a '99 Nomad and do almost all of the work on it, including tire changes. It's fun, and I can save my hard-earned dollars. When changing tires I like to use the liquid balance. I've tried weights, but always end up with the front end bouncing and wobbling at higher speeds. My last two front tires have worn more on one side than the other. The bike goes straight when I take my hands off the bars, but starts to wobble just a tad, which tells me that the tire is not perfectly balanced. Tell me, should I spend the extra cash to have it done professionally, or is it possible to do it myself and get it right? Scott M.Via e-mail
A The short answer is that all tires wear more on one side than the other-it's perfectly normal. Understand that this type of tire wear, technically called scuffing, isn't influenced in any way by balance, so if you're having good results with a liquid-tire balancer, then by all means keep using it. The wobble may be caused by loose steering-head bearings, accessories that affect weight distribution, tire wear or, as you suggested, a slightly out-of-balance front wheel as well as numerous other mechanical issues. But as I say, that and the scuffing are two separate issues.
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Tech TipBroken-Bulb BluesHave you ever had a small, burned-out bulb break off in your hand when you tried to remove it from its socket? Usually the scene plays out with either the bulb shattering in your fingers, which can get nasty, or simply twisting clean off its base, which remains stuck in the socket. In either case you're now faced with the challenge of removing what's left of the bulb from the lamp without making a hash of things. Sometimes you can reach in there with needle-nose pliers and twist the thing out, but occasionally the bulb base is below the socket or a needle-nose isn't handy. In those cases you can use the handle of the small, plastic screwdriver nearly every motorcycle manufacturer includes in the on-board tool kit. Just stick the rounded end of the handle into the socket, bear down a little, give 'er a twist and the socket should walk right out of there. And when you install the new bulb, remember to coat the sides of the base with a copper-based, anti-seize material or, better yet, a little dielectric grease to prevent it from also seizing in its socket. | 
DynoJet's kits include a free dyno voucher, as well as an assortment of jets and a drill bit and sheetmetal screw to remove the pilot screw's anti-tamper plug. |  |
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The pointer indicates the main jet; the pilot jet lies beneath it. | 
This particular carburetor uses a plastic retainer that locks into grooves to secure the needle. The small hex is used to rotate the lock ring so the needle can be removed. | 
The instructions will detail where the needle clip and any shims should be placed. |
Press the clip into place with the closed end against a hard surface; push down firmly. | | |