Choppers, Customs, so called freedom machines, 0-400 mile a year rattle-trap piles, stand in the garage and tinker anchors, a monument to drink beside... The list goes on, and I go on. Of course the generalizations are exclusionary, sometimes these little monuments run the run, do the thing, go. But mostly I see a culture (if you could call it that) of jump to conclusion caricatures. Bearded wipe me down Mann pants, speculative carb talk, hoard pile, pile-ons. Erector set visionaries.
These days I'd rather tie the 15 foot boat up to a pylon and shut it down. A slow current, full cooler and a place far away. On the right day, in the right place it can be other-worldly, on a good lake crappie. Instant trip to somewhere beyond the city. There's an modern addiction to checking in: The emphasis should be checking out, reset.
When the tie up spot gets old, collect the loose items and fire up old Mark 58. Four cylinders at 44 cu.in. of restless wind-me-up, or could be foul me out (depending on the day & temperament). Thick sloshing hi-octane 2-stroke mix, pressure pumped into ancient Tilloston butterfly carbs. At trolling speed you get anxious, can almost see the plugs turning wet and black. Push the lever forward toward peak RPM and you reach a harmonious drone too loud to talk over. A great thing these days.
Beyond romanticized water outings I've been finishing up a lightweight minimal bike. 1973 Cycleology Single loop frame, with a full Basiley built 1973 shovel-coner. Odd items like a 4qt. fiberglass oil tank, 11" 4-pot disc brake, SU carb. Various one-off machined bits from Jim, Casey and Kelly. Ceramic coated exhaust, too many paint layers on the frame (ready to chip!)
Maybe I'll get out and put 4 to 67 miles on it this year, really scrape those side danglers..!
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