We've got 10 straight (and beyond?) days of rain forecast.  I think my willingness to ride in rain diminishes each year, particularly if it's on routes and roads I've ridden for years.  I don't mind so much the rain during a multi-day road trip, it's part of the game.  

So rainy days become, hmmm, what to do days.  

I bought a pair of Thorogood 6" boots about 12 years ago.  They've been resoled once but are great for cool to warm weather riding and I like them because they are decent for hiking, which I like to combine with mc riding when I can.  Cleaning, aquaseal and polish bring them back to life and make them decently water resistent.  The dark brown will lighten up over a few days.

Hi guys, does anyone knows how the syncro/balance of the injectors can be made to a 2017 RS NA? The place on the injectors where the adjustment screws has to be is sealed with a ferm metal cap. Is sealed only for European models because of the EURO norms reasons and without being able to increase the fuel flow, or... all models are the same(sealed cap) with no possibility of syncro/tuning/balancing?

We don't always get to look at the Forum every day, so new posts or threads are often missing after 24 hours from last post, and unless you remember the thread's exact name, you may not be able to find them.

I think they should stay up for several days, maybe a week.  That would encourage more interaction.  Maybe title it as 20 Latest Posts, or This Week's Posts.

There's a garage near me advertising petrol at 99 octane and no more than 5% ethonal. Like the sound of no more than 5% ethonal but unsure of 99 octane.
It's nice to see a garage tell you the % of ethonal in there petrol as most garages won't. As I say what's your view on the 99 octane. 
nick.

Hi all,

I was giving my CB a wipe-down last night, and when I got to the swing arm area, I noticed that the small speed sensor wire was loose from the brake hose. Turns out that the little black clip that holds the wire and clamps it to the brake hose was loose. When I tried to reattach it to the brake hose, it broke into two pieces. 

Not a huge deal, but I didn't want the wire to be loose. I zip-tied it to the brake hose and searched for the part number for the clip.

It's HONDA PIPE CLAMP 11152-KS4-003 (R2244)

Ordered two from Ebay to have a spare once I replace the broken one. 

Check your speed sensor wire, folks!

Looking forward to sharing my riding and looking after my bike experiences with you all. Any advice I can give and any help I will undoubtedly need. Have we many members here in Rutland Enland.
nick.

I woke up early Thursday and lay in bed.  The window was open and it was cold in the room.  I listened to the wind whipping outside and imagined how windy it must be on the Potomac River bridge.  I heard a flock of geese calling as they flew overhead.  Heading south, I was sure, since they are the smart ones.  My bag was packed, and my plan was to hop on the motorcycle and head for the hills one more time this season, and return the next day.  What was I thinking?  I would probably freeze my butt off, riding for hours just to get to the fun roads.  I would give up two days that I could spend fixing the truck, painting the fence, or doing any of a hundred other jobs.  I would set a poor example for my kids.  I would be Dad, the weird guy who leaves his responsibilities behind to ride into the hills again, alone.  My plan made no sense.  I got out of bed, put my gear on, and loaded the bike.

The morning star greeted me as I rolled east for a mile before turning Northwest.  It was a clear morning, and I didn't have to battle with a fogged visor.  After turning south on 301, I remembered to stop and get a photo with the T-rex, an opportunity I missed last time.  The other thing I remembered this time was my transponder, which was packed in my bag and would save me a buck fifty on the bridge if it worked.

   

I rolled over the bridge and the wind was no concern at all.  The sun was up now, and it reflected in the mirrors.  I was happy for the sunshine, as it was a cool morning.  I had extra layers on top and bottom.  I took the curvy road to Fredericksburg and stopped at the same bakery as last time.  After one savory and one sweet croissant, and a cup of coffee, I continued west.

   

   

This time I went through Culpepper, avoiding the main road by taking a parallel street.  I rolled through Sperryville and stopped for a break in Luray.  I bought a cup of coffee in a shop called Broad Porch.  It doesn't actually have a porch at all, but it has a small deck in the back overlooking the creek that runs through town.  I relaxed and took a long phone call.  That delayed my trip a bit, but the great thing about having no real destination or schedule is that you're never really lost or late.

   

   

I took 675 out of town, keen to try a new route over the next two ridges.  The road condition was decent.  At the top of the first ridge there appeared to be a scenic view, but cars were parked too tightly to fit a motorcycle in between, so I rolled on.  I passed through Edinburg and found myself behind a truck full of USDA-approved cluckers stacked to thirteen-nine.  Fortunately this wasn't Wolf Creek Pass and the truck turned off without incident.

After the next ridge I cruised into Wardensville, taking a couple of minutes to check out the town before exiting westward.  An old man walking on the sidewalk gave me a thumbs up.  On 48 west of town, the road turned into a four-lane divided highway.  I stopped at a place labeled "scenic view," thinking I had not taken many photos so far.  But it was less scenic than everything else I had seen that day, so I departed without even putting my feet down.

I grabbed a milkshake in Moorefield and moved on through Parkersburg, where I had stayed overnight on a trip last March.  South on 28 past a bunch of cabins and lodges on a fly-fishing river, then right at Yokum's and on to Elkins via 33.  I stopped at Elkins to call a couple hotels in Sutton, because I did not want to venture that far and find nothing available.  Good thing I called, because nothing was available.

   

I decided Buckhannon, WV would be my destination and I rode 48 there.  I found myself somewhat unenthusiastic at the end of the day.  Perhaps finishing the ride on a long stretch of divided highway, and finding the hills dully colored in mid-October was not what I had envisioned.  I thought, what am I doing here?  Maybe I am just wasting my time.  But my attitude was remediated after I found a clean hotel, a tasty dinner, and a beer.  When the hotel clerk heard that I was motorcycling for no good reason, he recommended I take 20 south in the morning, which was already my plan.

   

In Buckhannon, the DQ is closed in October.

   

I woke early the next morning.  I realized I hadn't checked my tire pressures before the trip, so I went out and found them 4-5 psi low.  I wiped the dew off the bike and actually took the seat back into my room so it wouldn't get wet again while I suited up.  I aired up the tires before leaving town, paying for air for the first time in my life.

I was surprised to hit a little traffic leaving town, but I shouldn't have been.  I had forgotten that some people have to go to work and school on Friday.  I passed a place called the Clutter funeral home.  It struck me that funeral homes always have the oddest names, my personal favorite being the Nash and Slaw funeral home in VA.  South of town I saw a sign that said Adrian Water Board.  I don't normally go in for torture, so I continued south.

   

The traffic thinned and the road improved, just as the clerk had predicted.  Two or three times I caught up to a rig pulling a construction machine, and stopped for a minute to create some space between us.  It was a good morning.  It was very cool at only 43 deg F, but I was bundled up and riding a nice road.  When the sun broke through it was glorious, although I occasionally had to slow down due to the strobing of the sun through the trees.

   

After an hour and a half of enjoyable riding, I arrived at Webster Springs.  I parked at Vicki's (Vickie's?) and when I opened the door, every face turned toward me and every conversation stopped.  There was no "Please seat yourself" sign, but eventually I did so out of sheer awkwardness.  A woman eventually brought me a menu and I asked for coffee.  I had a breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and a large biscuit with butter and jam.  She refilled my mug two or three times with that weakish coffee that places used to serve.  My total bill with tax came to $9.01.  I paid in cash and she gave me the penny.  I checked the calendar on the way out to make sure it wasn't 1985.  I'll definitely be back.

   

Outside as I suited up, one of the locals recommended a particular route past Snowshoe, and it was the exact route I had in mind.  I zipped out 15, then 219, and 66.  The sun was shining, the roads were perfect, and I was enjoying the extra measure of confidence in the turns that I can never quite reach on the first day.  Whatever doubts I had the day before about wasting my time had long since vanished.  It was a beautiful morning in a great place, and I was riding.

   

   

When I rode into Cass, I found an arrangement of old white wooden homes lining both sides of the street, all of them identical and joined by wooden sidewalks.

   

I saw plumes of black smoke ahead and wondered if someone was burning tires.  As I got closer, I was stunned to see that the smoke was coming from two steam engines preparing to leave a station.  I hopped off for a closer look just in time to watch them depart.

I'm not sure how to embed the videos, but here is a link:
https://imgur.com/a/kiFip4P

As I got back on the bike, the engines let out a prolonged whistle with full steam, a soul-stirring sound.  I continued north on 92 and spied a huge radio telescope of the Green Bank Observatory.

   

   

Random WV question 1:  What is this?
   

Random WV question 2:  Why do so many folks have an IBC tote sitting by the road near their driveway?  Sometimes with the top cut off, sometimes not.  I must have passed over a hundred of them.

Back to our adventure: Then I took 28 north and 33 east.  I rested briefly at the Brandywine General Store and had a cup of coffee.  It was afternoon, but as on the previous day, I elected not to remove any layers.  I only switched out my cold weather gloves for regular gloves.  I continued east on 33 through Harrisonburg.

   

   

Past Stanardsville I found a nice motorcycle road to avoid the highway.  It ran through Scuffletown and joined 20 west of Orange.

   

East of Orange I took a road which bypassed Wilderness, but it was afternoon and traffic turned out bad.  I ended up in crawling traffic with no room to pass on either side.  I turned the motor off on the downhill part.  Traffic cleared finally after I passed a four-way stop.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and I arrived home an hour after sunset.  The two-day trip was over 700 miles, and the bike was flawless.  I'm eager to go again, but I think my next multi-day trip will probably not happen until the spring.  Thanks for reading, you've been very patient if you made it this far!

For the past few weeks, Mrs. G and her brother have been on vacation in Kyoto and Yokohama.
She loves sending me pictures of motorcycles wherever she travels, knowing that I like to see what people ride in other parts of the world.

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i am needing help designing drawing a tone ring to be laser cut from stainless the od is 137mm id is 102mm 60 rectangles of the 3mmx8mm size rounded corners also on the od i am going to need 4 ears with mounting holes 136mm center to center  ill have measurements for their id soon 

this is for a possible wheel swap for a 17inch rear wheel  and a 17 or 19 inch front      here is an example their are 60 flats on the ring on the cb1100 not holes if that makes sense 

Decided to recognize Christopher Columbus' explorations by plotting my own route to the "Far East".   OK, so only as far east as the shores of Lake Michigan will allow, but did discover a few new places along the way.

Rain was forecast for early afternoon, motivating me to get up early with Cheryl who did not have Columbus Day off.   Since I'd be riding alone, I brought a cigar along and tossed the Monday Wall Street Journal in my bag with a bottle of water.  My mission was to explore various lakefront parks/beaches where i could comfortably, if not legally, conduct my morning routine of reading the paper while enjoying a cigar, usually conducted on my back deck.  Not as adventurous as Sig. Colombo to be sure, but at least my motives were pure.  

First Stop:  Lloyd Beach, Winnetka, IL
A lovely beach, really a boat launch area, with several small picnic tables that would have suited my needs perfectly except that they were fairly exposed and I was looking for something a bit more sheltered in case of rain.   Still, I may have stopped here were it not for the prominent "No Smoking" signs directly between where I would be sitting and the Winnetka Police officer who was seated in his vehicle in the parking lot.  Maybe on some other ride, I will take a chance on having my cigar here; it's a quiet spot with great views of Chicago's skyline and I like that I can pose my bike so close to the water here.  Side note:  the building in the background of the third picture below is the Village of Winnetka Power Station -- My bike was in the shop or this would have been my Sept, 2025 entry for the Photo Challenge..    Although, these were suitable accommodations, it being the first stop and under the surveillance of local law enforcement, it was time to carry on the voyage.  







Second Stop:  Glencoe Beach, Glencoe, IL
The park area for this beach is on top of a bluff with a reasonably treacherous ride down to the waters edge - damp sand on a steep single-lane road with 3 switchbacks.  There's a"landing" before the last switchback from which I could survey the beach.  I did not see any seating in close proximity to where I could park and, lacking any real incentive to continue downward, I turned around on the landing and headed up to a shelter that is probably 20' below the top of the bluff and 100' above the beach.   The shelter would provide the cover that I was still seeking and it was remote enough so as to not bother any other park-goers.  What it lacked, though is anything remotely resembling comfortable seating and a reasonably unobstructed view of Lake Michigan.  I was able to get a decent picture for the Oct, 2025 Photo Challenge.  I continued northward on my expedition along the winding part of Sheridan Road, stopping briefly at Rosewood Beach in Highland Park (no photo) which has lovely views, but any possible seating area was a decent walk from the parking area and I was looking for a spot in short distance from my bike. 







Stops/Drive-bys north of Glencoe Beach:
In addition to Rosewood in Highland Park, I hit Moraine Park, which had plenty of seating, but no view at all of the water.  I also tried the Fort Sheridan Forest Preserve (no seating near parking) and Fort Sheridan National Cemetery (only seating was in the memorial area and it would be disrespectful to listen to music and smoke a cigar there).  I continued the quest on into Lake Forest.

Third (depending on how you) Stop:  Forest Park Beach, Lake Forest, IL 

I had never stopped at this beach despite having ridden past it dozens if not hundreds of times.  Like most beaches on Lake Michigan north of Chicago, Forest Park Beach sits at the base of a high bluff.   The road down to the shore was wide, paved, and gradual, unlike Glencoe Beach. They obviously did or redid the hardscapes here within the last few years; everything was clean and looked new.  I did not see any picnic benches, but there were dozens of park benches along the meandering paved walking path which is 20 yards from the water.  Not a perfect spot, but the only people around were doing a photo shoot of a Porsche and they put their vehicle right on the walking path so I figured I'd do the same.   Parked my bike next to a park bench; got out my water, paper, cigar, and cutter; put on a Herbie Hancock album on Spotify; and settled in for a relaxing hour or so.  One passerby asked me about the bike - he was in his early 60s and told me he had KZ440 in college that he rode from Colorado to Illinois in one day.  It's interesting to me how people start up conversations with me when I'm on a ride who would never talk to me if I was just a guy sitting on a bench with a cigar -- except that might stop to tell me that its a no-smoking area.  I saw 4 different people go for a swim in Lake Michigan.  The weather's been unusually warm here, but the water temp is pretty chilly.  Good for them, I say.









Finished my cigar, my Herbie album, my news paper, my conversation with my KZ440 guy, and hopped on my bike for the return to my homeland (or just home...but trying to keep the Columbus connection here).   As I was riding back toward home, I began contemplating lunch as people of a certain age tend to do.   There's a great taqueria in Highwood that turned out to be closed because it was Monday, but just a couple hundred feet south from there is The Mean Wiener, which obviously is a hot dog stand.  Perfect stop for me.   Turns out that Mean Wiener expanded their menu, maybe many years ago to include a variety of Mexican fare AND their Monday special is a $5 burrito with one's choice of taco meat inside -- I went el pastor for this mine.  As I was leaving, a mom and a little girl, maybe 4 years old and in her PJs were walking out of the restaurant.  The girl, her name was Lucy, I think, was staring at my bike and talking to her mom.  I gathered that she has one of those little electric "motorcycles" at home and was fascinated by bikes.   I let her sit on the CB1100 on the side stand and she was frustrated that she could reach the right handle bar.  I told her that she was "a natural" and should learn to ride motorcycles as soon as possible, mainly just to get a reaction from her mom, which it did.  Anyway, my hands were full holding Lucy on my bike so I didn't get a photo.   They didn't walk away when I helped her off and started to get geared up.   Lucy wanted to see me ride away, which was adorable and disconcerting at the same time -- the last thing I needed if i dropped it on some gravel in the parking lot was judgy looks from Lucy.   






The rest of the return trip was uneventful and, while it had rained at home, I never felt a drop on the road.   My search for a sheltered spot was not only in vain, but unnecessary.   I was able to find a new (to me) "land" in the form of Forest Park Beach, engaged with the native peoples, and charted a course for future journeys to and from "The East".