Port Security finds stolen Yamaha after 34 years

LATimes

Let's hope they're as good at keeping out the bombs as they are at keeping in the beauties.

For the second time in recent months, the Department of Homeland Security has prevented a stolen collector's-item vehicle from being shipped out of the Port of Los Angeles.

U.S. Customs and Border Protection officers Wednesday returned a classic Yamaha motorcycle swiped 34 1/2 years ago off a Long Beach street to its surprised and delighted owner.

The motorcycle, still in good shape and running condition, was discovered in a shipping container destined for Lahti, Finland. A man there purchased it last fall on EBay from an unsuspecting Visalia, Calif., resident for $1,725.

As authorities returned McMeen's motorcycle to him, they had former Long Beach Police Officer John Finn hand over the keys. Finn, who retired from the department 16 years ago, took the stolen vehicle report Oct. 4, 1971, when a chain was cut and the Yamaha RT 360 was taken from outside McMeen's apartment on Nieto Avenue in Belmont Shore.

"I told Mr. McMeen we'd probably get it back," but not to expect it right away, Finn said.

I think that may qualify as the understatement of both centuries!

McMeen received a helmet from Long Beach Police Sgt. Dave Cannan, who reminded him that a helmet safety law had been enacted since the pilot's last California cycle ride. McMeen climbed aboard the Yamaha and gave it a couple of kick starts.

With a loud, lawnmower-like putt-putt-putt and a cloud of blue smoke, it started right up. He made several circuits around the impound lot.

A Long Beach police officer volunteered to help him crate the cycle for shipping today. It will be sent to New Hampshire by Amtrak rail. "They have a great shipping service," McMeen said.

Why not just fly it east in the baggage compartment of an American Airlines passenger plane?

"They'd lose it," McMeen said with a laugh.

He should know. Mr. McMeen works for American Airlines.

Descriptions

A customer came up with the best description of what the shop is like:

"You guys are a cross between American Chopper and Taxi."

Wires

Okay, I've noticed the popularity of the satellite radio services and hardware. A word of advice to those who've gone down that road, have it professionally installed in your car.

More and more, I have to get into cars where there are wires dangling from everywhere, wrapped around shit to take up the excess. This is not safe. It's not safe when I get into your car to bring it in the shop and the sat radio antenna wire lashes my foot to the brake or gas pedal. You know how I'm gonna untie myself, don't ya? Odds are, your shit won't work when I get out.

I don't want to be road testing your shit and the radio head falls off the dash and into my lap, or the wire you hung over the visor falls in my face at 50 mph. It's gonna piss me off if it does and you'll probably wreck your car if it happened to you.

The same goes for all the car adapters for your phone, fax machine, laptop, Sharper Image air freshener, vibrator, whatever. If it flops around when you make a turn, consider it unsafe. In an accident, every little piece of loose shit in your car becomes a missile. Get the crap off the rear deck, get the toys off the dashboard, and keep the wires out from around your ankles. I've said it a million times.

Your car is not your fucking living room, it is transportation. I wish I could fail a car for safety if there is too much crap floating around in it.

A squealing tire is a happy tire

Here's an article in the LATimes about "drifting". There's video as well.

The kids love this shit, but there's nothin' new about mashin' on the foot-feed and goin' sideways.

Ferrari Follow-up

There's stuff coming out about the crash in the previous post that's kinda fun and mysterious. From the LATimes:

The trail leads to a nonprofit operating out of a Monrovia repair shop. More puzzling is its police force and 'anti-terrorism' unit.

A few minutes after the crash, two unidentified men arrived at the scene, flashing badges and saying they were from "homeland security," according to Sheriff's Department officials.

Deputies allowed the men into the accident scene, where they spoke to Stefan Eriksson before leaving, Sgt. Phil Brooks said.

Sheriff's officials on Thursday said they now want to question them.

Heh. I'll just bet they do! Go read it.

This "homeland security" deal is turning into an all-purpose scam, huh? One of these days we're gonna hear about two guys who go into a convenience store: "We're from 'homeland security'. In the interest of national security, give us all your money."

Update:

Having just said that, then I saw this. Damn, I'm good!

So Speedy, So Exclusive, So Expensive, So Totaled

This is enough to make a gearhead cry. On the other hand, if you're rich enough to do this and not worry about the other Ferrari owners putting out a contract on you for desecrating a shrine, go for it. From the LATimes:

It was a SigAlert made for Malibu.

A red Ferrari Enzo - one of only 400 ever made and worth more than $1 million - broke apart Tuesday when it crested a hill on Pacific Coast Highway going 120 mph and slammed into a power pole.

The driver jumped out of the wreckage and ran into the canyon above, evading a three-hour search by a Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department helicopter and a mountain search-and-rescue team.

The crash did not result in serious injuries. But it sent shockwaves through both the tabloid and exotic car worlds as one group wondered if the driver was a celebrity and the other mourned the loss of a hand-built car revered by many as a work of art.

Read on. The owner, who blew very slightly but legally under the influence, claims he was a passenger and that 'Dietrich' was driving and ran away. Around here, it would have been a deer or an icy road. The trick is to get away so the cops don't catch up with you until the next day.

Here's the part that got me:

Ferrari owner Chris Banning, a Beverly Hills writer who is finishing a book called the "Mulholland Experience" that will touch on the cult of sports car racing on that mountain roadway, characterized the Enzo's destruction as "a tremendous loss" to the automotive world.

"He destroyed one of the finest cars on Earth, maybe the finest. It's like taking a Van Gogh painting and burning it," said Banning, who is a leader of the Ferrari Owners Club.

Hey, rich boys break their toys all the time. They probably get drunk and burn their Van Goghs too, just because they can. That's not the part that got me.

Back in the 60s, I participated kinda on the fringes of the MAD (Mulholland After Dark) Racing. It was fun. It was run what ya brung. Sports cars, muscle cars, bikes, whatever. There was some pretty good racing, and some not-so-pretty-good racing. Probably the best racer up there was Steve McQueen in his Cobra, although some pretty good SCCA club racers would show up from time to time. Mainly it was just normal bozos.

I've seen people lose control, splinter a guard rail, barrel roll off a cliff, end up an amazing distance down a steep hillside, exit the car unhurt, climb back up to the road, hitchhike back to the 'pits', borrow a car, and keep racing!

One time I took a friend's wife for a spin on my roommate's Honda. We rode from Coldwater Canyon, near where the pits were, to Laurel Canyon. It's maybe three or four miles. On the way back, the sky in front of us lit up in a green flash. We didn't know what that was all about until we rounded the next bend and saw a Mustang leaning nose-up against a power pole, with three or four other cars in attendance. If the guy hadn'ta had the decency to crash, we'd have rode right into an oncoming race!

Ah, memories. I'm going to keep an eye out for that book.

Doldrums

February is traditionally a slow month for us and this year didn't disappoint. We're usually done with the paying work by lunchtime, Harry takes 3 hour lunches, Indian makes his yearly pilgrimage to worship at Daytona, and PDB and I are left to our own devices.

So we're a couple weeks into the February doldrums and the shop has been reorganized, projects we've put off are getting done - making calls hounding customers to pay outstanding bills, going through the 'you never know' cans of parts and hardware culling the shit you never will use, cleaning in all the crevices we're too busy to clean the rest of the year, new shelves for the service manuals, redoing the parts inventory to keep up with changes, and trying to clean Harry's shit pile desk a little at a time so he doesn't notice - and doing little shit on our own cars. Needless to say, PDB and I still have too much free time. Not a good thing.

We've already designated Fridays 'Indian Sucks Ass Day' and annotated all the calendars and the appointment book. We make lewd - anatomically correct - snowmen and women, much to Harry's, and the mayor's, chagrin. And we play practical jokes. An empty plastic oil jug makes a hell of a noise when you screw the cap back on and put it behind someone's tire. Hooking the old bell for the gas pumps to the toilet seat - lift the seat, the bell over your head starts clanging - gets a rise out of folks too.

So by now, everybody is waiting expectantly for March, when the work will pick up and nobody has to look over their shoulders until next year. Well, except for the Indian. His life will be a living Hell for the next couple weeks because he has to pay for taking two weeks off and calling in every other day to remind us how warm it is in Florida.

I'm so glad

So many people in Africa want to trust me with hundreds of millions of dollars.

Oh so true...

This sign hangs in my shop. I just ran across the file for it and thought I'd share.

We do three kinds of work:
Good, Quick, and Cheap
You can have any two:
Cheap and Quick won't be Good
Good and Cheap won't be Quick
Good and Quick won't be Cheap

Believe it, Sparky.

Hacked

Click der biti foto to embiggen

I guess we've all heard about Guv'ner Ah-nold leading with his lip in a sidecar crash. Why not? He leads with his lip everywhere else...but I digress.

Anyway, I've read in blogs and elsewhere a lot of ignorant gibberish about sidecars in the wake of this incident. The most notable was a comment somewhere impugning the masculinity of sidecar drivers. Drivers, not 'riders'. Horse pucky.

I decided to set the record a little straighter as I have a little experience with "outfits" or "combinations", as the British call them. I've ridden outfits ranging from a '27 H-D JD with factory sidecar to my own '58 Ariel Square Four with a Busmar "double adult saloon" chair. That was a fully enclosed model with fore-and-aft seating for as many adults as you could cram into it. I once set up a Harley-Davidson for Willie G. Davidson to ride the Muscular Dystrophy poster kid around in. My Service Manager told me to "add lotsa extra lights. We don't want the kid to get killed!" Heh. I have many more sidehack stories...

The photo at the top of the post shows me doing a little research on the subject. The driver is my pal Larry. He was strong and fearless. I'm the 'monkey' and all I had to do was throw my weight around and hang on for dear life. It was fun, but very strenuous. The bike is a 650cc Triumph Bonneville, and it was fast. It was a little squirrelly too, but Larry only paid $200 for it, and could run with custom-built jobs that cost a lot of money. We beat some of 'em, too. Note the attempt to lengthen the wheelbase by use of a trailing-link front fork from a 250cc Greeves! Note also the custom "clearance" grooves in the gas tank. Perhaps one good tank-slapper did that? Who knows? Hey, whatever works. The picture was taken at Perris Raceway in California in the late '70s.

Sidecars date back to about ten minutes after the first solo bike rider's wife had a baby. They were considered family transportation in an era when most guys could afford a bike, but not many could afford a car. As cars became cheaper, sidecar use diminished as most wives prefer for them and the kids to ride inside something warm and safe.

The first sidecars were made out of wicker, hence the expression "chairs" for them. There were many variations on the 3-wheel theme. There were "tri-cars" with the chair mounted between two front wheels, the driver behind. In a crash, the passenger got there first. These were especially popular amongst guys who got to ride mouthy mothers-in-law around. God only knows how far they could make 'em fly by hitting the brakes real hard.

Sidecar rigs are very popular today in third-world countries and places like Siberia and China, where they are not only family transportation but also used as a means of power take-off to run water pumps and the like, anything you can run with a coupled shaft or a belt or whatever. Just think of Tod and Buzz running a water pump with their Corvette in Route 66 and you get the idea.

Sidecars in this country are mainly used by dyed-in-the-wool enthusiasts and folks with limited use of their legs. There are aftermarket sidehacks for nearly every model of motorcycle. The only currently available factory combo is the Ural from Russia, although I expect the Chinese copy of this Russian copy of the WWII German rig to be here soon.

A few words about driving a sidecar are in order here as I feel this may have had something to do with Ah-nold's prang. These things handle like neither motorcycles nor cars. You almost cannot turn one of the damn things with a steady-state throttle. In this country, the chair is usually mounted on the right side of the bike. This means that to make a right turn, you must accelerate the bike around the chair, or brake the chair, or both. To make a left turn, you must decelerate, or brake the bike, or both, so the chair will be going faster than the bike and want to turn. You can get real creative with all this. If you don't know how to do this stuff, pick your spot and try to hit something cheap!

Sidecar rigs are specially set up, too. The sidecar axle must be forward of the bike's rear axle. The chair's wheel has to toe-in for steering and lean outwards at the top (positive camber?) to compensate for passenger weight and the crown of the road. My old Ariel had the chair on the left and it always seemed to be pining for Jolly Olde England and trying to turn towards home. I'd pour malt vinegar on it and it'd act OK for a while. Also, the front end requires more rake so as to slow the steering and lengthen the wheelbase. Harley-Davidson made the capability to make this adjustment a standard feature on its larger FL models until just a few (to me. Ha!) years ago. They also offered a gearbox with three forward speeds and reverse.

If anybody thinks sidecars are for girly-men, go find one and get a ride in it. A racing one, if you can. Then, if you still wish to run your mouth, fine by me.

Hiatus

I'll be taking a hiatus from this blog for a while. Explanation.

More Ford

From the Alternate Brain Mail Bag, a reply to my email to Ford on their commitment to GLBT advertising:

Thank you for writing.

At Ford we value diversity among all of our constituents and pride ourselves on strong and clear values - respect for our customers, communities, employees, suppliers and dealers; acceptance of our differences; inclusion of different people with different perspectives; and integrity to always do the right thing. We value all people - regardless of their race, religion, gender, sexual orientation and cultural or physical differences. This is a strong commitment we intend to carry forward with no exception. We are pleased to clear up any misperceptions and get back to doing what we do best - building the best cars and trucks in America.

Thank you again for contacting Ford.


Respectfully,
Customer Relationship Center
Ford Motor Company [my emphasis]

Cross-posted at the Brain.

Classic Woodies

At my age, all my woodies are 'classic', but I digress...

This is an article in my local paper, the Sierra Sun, about preserving Lake Tahoe's maritime heritage. Good picture of some old Tahoe boats, and a link to the Tahoe Maritime Museum.

I like old anything: bikes, cars, trains, planes, boats, outboard motors, tractors, you name it. I guess it's because they were a lot newer when I was young. Maybe part of the nostalgia stems from the fact that we don't have to put up with them anymore, or they hark back to a simpler, less time-sensitive go-go-go society.

In the case of bikes and planes, the old ones sound better than the new ones, too.

Paul Teutul Sr.

Everybody's favorite New York biker is Paul Teutul of Orange County Choppers. There's an interview with him in Newsweek Online.

For a guy who loves building motorcycles, collecting muscle cars and has a walrus mustache streaming across his face, you wouldn't think Paul Teutul Sr.'s favorite beverage would be club soda. But then again his favorite smell is glue. And his best memory is getting sober.

NEWSWEEK: What's in your driveway right now?

Paul Teutul Sr.: Oh geez. I don't know if we have enough time. I have an assortment of muscle cars. I have a '70 GTO, '69 Camaro 427, a 1969 442. I have a '41 Willies, a '33 Ford Hot Rod. I have a 1960 Corvette, 2006 Z06 Corvette - that's a 500 horsepower 'vette, a limited number are made. I have a Mercedes AMG 55, I have a 1970 396 Nova Supersport, I have a 1967 427 Shelby, a 427 Cobra, I have a '67 396 Chevy Nova.

Life's a bitch, huh, Paul? (sigh) Read and enjoy.

Green cabs

Tami pointed me here. I'll be waiting to see how these hold up under the right foot of most NYC cabbies.

NEW YORK (Reuters) - Ford Motor Co. on Thursday introduced a mini-fleet of hybrid taxicabs to serve New York City, part of its push to promote cleaner, more fuel-efficient vehicles.

...

Service vs. Oil change

I get asked, "F-man, you talk about service every 3000 miles. What's the difference between a service and an oil change?" Well, my little Lugnuts, let me 'splain.

An oil change is just that. Unscrew the drain plug, drop the oil, unscrew the filter and replace, fill with oil, see ya. We don't do oil changes.

A service entails:

Drive car around the block to see how it drives.

Bring it in, check all the lights, wipers, and horn.

Put it up, remove oil filter, and start oil draining. Pull a front and rear wheel, check brakes and hardware, set tire pressures and check tire wear and condition, check for leaks or unsafe conditions underneath. Check exhaust system for leaks and damage, check suspension for damage and wear, and proper operation. Replace drain plug and filter. Lower car.

Fill with oil. Check condition of belts and hoses. Check fluid levels and top off as necessary. Check anti-freeze protection and adjust as necessary. Check for any anomalies under the hood (frayed wires, damage, etc.), and prepare report for customer. Finally, put a service sticker on the inside of the windshield so the customer knows (easily) when he/she sould bring the car back for the next service.

That'll cost you $50, money well spent for the peace of mind to know nothing unexpected should pop up. If you want anything less, go to Juffy Lube or Auto Spa.

That's the difference between an oil change and a service. What would you rather have done?

Since November is here

I'd like to take this time to remind you to have your car looked over by your local mechanic in preparation for winter (For those who live in LA, Arizona and the like, isn't it time you changed your oil anyway?). One thing I'm especially concerned about, in the areas where winter is a reality, are your tires. Have them looked at before it snows. If there's any doubt, get new ones.

A few links:

My post on tires.

Gord's post on winterizing your vehicle.

Gord's post on getting small engines in shape for the cold weather.

Be ready for winter driving. It could save you money and your life.

Nano-Nano

Using the parts inside a single molecule, scientists have constructed the world's smallest car. It has a chassis, axles and a pivoting suspension. The wheels are buckyballs, spheres of pure carbon containing 60 atoms apiece.

[. . .]

This is the next big thing in the health care industry and also the vehicle to build infrastructure in inhospitable climates. Just an aside, nanomachines can also be used as a weapon as I illustrated in Technocracy. Nanotechnology is the next frontier. I feel like I did when I was young, watching the Apollo missions to the Moon. Oh the possibilities . . .

Great thanks to the Renegade. Cross-posted at the Brain.

Not good

Auto parts supplier Delphi Corp became the largest auto firm in US history to declare bankruptcy when it announced it was seeking Chapter 11 protection for its US divisions.

While Delphi and its former parent company, General Motors, insisted that there would be no supply interruptions, the move is certain to reverberate across the industry.

[. . .]

This is not good from where I sit. Even though I bitch about Delphi's (and GM's) quality and their downhill spiral since 1973, this opens the door for even less dependable manufacturers. I'm of the 'Better The Devil You Know' school. Not only that, but GM talks bullshit when they say there'll be no interruptions.

[. . .]

Delphi may be the largest, but it is not the first US supplier to seek bankruptcy protection as a result of stiff competition from abroad and shrinking demand for American cars.

It employs some 185,000 workers, including 35,000 in the United States. [Link]

[. . .]

You know there will be layoffs, and while current year manufacture might not be affected. God help them if they have to retool a part thanks to recall. I remember in '92 (not long after Ford bought control of Mazda) the Probes of that year (built by Mazda) had a bad run of vehicle speed sensors. They started going bad a couple months in (December '91 -January '92) and the recall began shortly after. Some cars were inoperative for months until capacity could catch up with demand.

Also something to ponder, the American taxpayer will probably have to pick up the tab for Delphi's pension commitment.

[. . .]

Delphi, which lost $4.8 billion last year, said that the Pension Benefit Guaranty Corp. (PBGC) could take over the company's pension obligations, but the federal agency might not guarantee the full amount. For a retiree under age 65, the maximum benefit is $1,710.51 per month or $20,526.12 per year, an amount lower than the typical payout to Delphi workers.

[. . .]

This could be the beginning of the end of GM. Look for Buick and Pontiac to go the way of the Oldsmobile shortly, probably within 5 years.

The $800 car . . . the reasons

I got customers in this cycle. It pains me to see them agonize over whether to fix a car they promised me they'd only run for the summer, the winter, until I find another one, you've grown to love it, whatever. I have a guy with an '85 Olds Custom Cruiser or some shit. You know the one, the big fat station wagon with the redwood trees on the side. V-8 of course, carbureted, a million miles on it. 5 years ago, he bought it 'just to get him through the winter'. 5 years ago. He's put more money into the fucking thing in the last 5 years, he could have bought 2 new ones . . . cash.

Every year it gets harder to get it though emissions inspection and every year it costs him more money. We beg him to get rid of it. I offered him $500 bucks for it just to get it away from him. Nope. He's got thousands into it and he can't bear to walk away from the investment. Rule: A car is not, never was, never will be, an investment. I don't give a shit if it's a classic, antique, whatever, you'll always sink more money into it than you ever get out of it.

Like the guy with the 20 year old Coupe DeVille with the 4100 HT motor (junk when it was new; we say the 'HT' stands for 'hand-tight') and a million miles on it and would rather stick close to a grand into it for a water pump and radiator instead of taking the plates off it and calling the scrap yard. Sometimes it doesn't pay to be a good mechanic. If he'd go to some of the other clowns in the area, the thing would be in the junkyard by now.

Anyway, try to stay out of the cycle of dumping money into a piece of shit. If you can buy new, do it and get rid of it before the warranty runs out. If you have to buy used, get the newest car you can and try to stick to the solid nameplates. And always, always have your mechanic look at a used car before any money changes hands.