BSA design repair PT. 1

I could drag this one out forever but I'm short on time. My father and I co-own Grumpy Unk's 1971 BSA Lighting 650. Unk hated the sidecovers and I agreed to help design some new ones that Dad would build. I think we're moving forward with that. I'm not a fan of the sidecovers myself and my favorite thing in the world to do (well, perhaps...third favorite) is design stuff. I'm not going to pretend I'm a better designer than say Fabio Taglioni or Leno Tonti but perhaps we can do better than Nigel Ramsbottom or whomever that came up with these three piece, steel and zinc die cast afterthoughts slapped on the side of the newly (at the time) redesigned A65 line.

The Bike in question. It's not that dark in person.

Okay, they're not that bad. I had one of these for a while and I've always liked the way they look bone stock. I do feel the looks could be improved a bit and in the spirit Hippocrates, I look first to do no harm. We won't do anything that can't be undone with some wrenches.

No idea where I got this one, no copyright infringement intended. 

Body by Fabio
No idea where I got this one, no copyright infringement intended.

Speaking of Fabio Taglioni. My guess is this is no chicken and egg deal here. The Brits needed cash to keep all of motorcycling alive in 1971. Down there in Italy they were building these beauties. I doubt the Italians were sending spies up to the land of blancmange to find out how to make a motorcycle look sexy. To play devil's advocate, I would think most folks would take the Ducati over the BSA any day of the week. Opinions vary but if you squint a little, the aesthetics are very similar. So what could we do to fix the slap-dash styling of the BSA? Hmmmm....we could steal those side covers. I'm speaking stylistically, of course. If I was a designer worth my salt I'd Photoshop those babies right on there. But that's not an option at the moment. Moving on. 

Holy crap that's cool.
No idea where I got this one, no copyright infringement intended. 

While we're squinting, if the PO of Unk's bike had just dumped a big-assed handful of metal flake in that baby blue paint, we'd have something like this. You know...sort of.

Happy Halloween and What I didn't do on my Fall Vacation

No, not gonna be all negative Nancy. I was hoping to get a little work done on the Sportster but it just didn't happen. I went down to the Grumpy Unk compound for a few days to help clean out the barn. Turns out Unk was a bit of a pack rat and not really into barn maintenance. I was supposed to have three or four folks to help me and we had big plans. Yeah, it was just me and the wife with a little help from Therapy Boy. Good kid, that one but he was nursing some bug so wasn't 100%. No big deal. The wife  took care of a huge burn pile and kilt' a snake with a pitchfork. Makes her sound tough but she felt horrible about it. She just meant to move it. My plan was to come back and get the garage dialed in for the winter and then spend a little time with my kids. I got a little done on the garage and there's never enough time with the kids. That means I didn't do squat on the Sportster. I have a deal pending on some parts and an idea or two for some other things but I need a place to work. The garage is a flippin disaster at the moment. The idea was to tidy up the drywall that was never finished...in 1977. And insulate the attic and exterior walls. I won't go into the nightmare that was blowing insulation into the wall. What a fiasco. The important thing is I need a warm place to work in the winter. The garage was just to drafty and cold last winter to get anything done. Boo Hoo, right? O.K., enough bitching. Soon it'll be winter so I'll get it all nice and tidy so I can work on the scoots and maybe get a few honey-doos done as well. Have a fun Halloween. Eat too much candy, life is short. Unk preferred gummy bears. I'm more of a chocolate guy.

More Uncles and motorcycles

Over the past weekend Mrs. Surly and I went down to Seymour to hang out and went to a little party in honor of my Crazy Uncle who passed away last year. We had a great time and with the help of my Old Man, we dragged back Unk's 1971 BSA Lightning. He wanted us to have it and now we do. Not sure how joint ownership is going to shake out but this would be the third BSA twin and fourth total BSA I have been the proud (or partial) owner of. One of my friends is a motorcycle savant and has a set of sleeved carbs for this baby. With those and a little TLC, I could have this thing running in a weekend. If only I had a weekend.

The Beesa in STB's pickup.

In an unfortunate coincidence, another uncle passed away a few years ago as well. He had a 1969 XLH Sportster. I eluded to it back in June of 2011. There was a bunch of stuff that we helped sell for my aunt but understandably, she wasn't ready to sell the scooter at the time. I respectfully asked for right of first refusal and long story short...I'm picking it up on Sunday.

There's a sporting motorcycle hidden somewhere in this picture.

So I've been trying to keep the garage and my life uncluttered and I wind up with half a motorcycle and a Harley. Well I suppose that since it's Independence Day here in the good old U.S. of A the purchase of some Milwaukee iron offsets the partial ownership of the BSA from jolly old England.

This would be the target. Pic lifted from The Zon

It certainly warrants it's own post(s), but this is what I'm thinking I'll do with the Sporty. The blue bike is what it would have looked like originally. The Old Man thinks the hardtail is a bad idea. I don't know why that would make any difference to him considering he has about 10 bikes and only one is rideable. If it's parked, what difference would it make if it's uncomfortable? Just kidding Chief. I think making something like the above would be pretty attainable without too much money being spent. Of course, I've said that before.

Happy Independence Day!

One year later

My Crazy Uncle has been gone for one year today. I miss the shit out of that guy. I was out working on my Honda and thinking about how much he would have dug my new scooter and we'd have gone riding together. Come to think of it, I was using some tools that a different uncle gave me. He was less crazy but every bit as influential. He used to drive me around in his 442 Olds. Cancer stole him too. Maybe they are hanging out together.

J.S.Mengel 

I love this picture.

So went on this ride sort of around the state. We got a room in Terre Haute and the next morning went down to the continental breakfast. It was pretty grim and offended Johnny sensibilities, such as they were. He suggests we go get coffee at the gas station. I'm thinking breakfast and coffee at the gas station are not really the same thing but he seemed adamant about drinking gas station coffee. So we load all our shit on the bikes and drive across the street to the Marathon station. There's a marquee on the front of the building and I catch a glimpse of what it says and start cracking up inside my helmet. A big van or something is parked in front of the sign so I just see it for a second and Johnny misses it. Still giggling to myself, I get a couple bottles of water for the trip, and a large coffee. Maybe some cupcakes or something, can't remember. He does his thing and we go outside to loiter in front of the no loitering sign. It's really more of a suggestion than a rule anyway. I'm standing there grinning like a dumbass. More than usual. Unk asks me what's so funny. I tell him when this van pulls away, take a look at the sign on the wall. Some lady comes out and moves the van a minute or two later. He walks over to have a look and loses it. He starts laughing his ass off. 

So we're standing there in the gas station parking lot about seven in the morning, drinking shitty coffee,  laughing like a couple of stoned teenagers. Now our friends Gymi, and Red were supposed to come with us on the trip. Things didn't work out so it was just me and Unk. He says, "Stand in front of the sign and we'll get a picture to send to Gymi". So I did. 

Straight from Unks cell phone.

So he sends the picture to Gymi and we drink some more coffee and tell jokes and try not to make eye contact with the schizophrenic urban camper who walks by. That guy was scary, he was engaged in a heated argument with himself. Seriously, he was fucking pissed. Luckily he was walking fast and more concerned with the voices in his head than the two motorcyclists speaking ill of the dead. So we finish up and get ready to saddle up and I look at him and say "What if Gymi's wife's name is Kathy?". He gets this blank look on his face for just a split second...and then starts fucking cracking up again. My face hurt I was laughing so hard. Gymi's wife's name is not Kathy, I checked. 

I hope Unk is hanging out with uncle Mark having a good time. They'll be sitting in some bag chairs, drinking coffee, telling stories...  Shit, I hope they run in to Kathy so Unk can tell her the story and they can laugh about it together. 

Rest in peace Uncle John. You too, Kathy. Whoever you were. We meant no disrespect, we were just a couple of insensitive assholes drinking coffee at the Marathon in Terre Haute.