The KLR is the anti-type of a Harley. Its a beautiful soul with an ugly
face.
A couple of Mammoth trip notes. Big clash of cultures again this year as
they had a Harley street bike fair the same weekend as the MX races. Saw a
few KLR's tooling around the area as well. Meet a guy at the June Lake/395
gas station (forgot his name) from the Santa Barbara area, who bought a new
KLR a couple of years ago. Took it in for the 500 mile service, and shortly
thereafter starting heard strange rattling sounds. Within a few hundred
miles the motor seized. When he opened it up he found that the mechanic had
over tightened the adjuster bolt, and broke the doohickey. $1900 to rebuild
the motor with no warranty. Never got the name of the dealer, but I assume
it was in the Santa Barbara area.
Watched McGrath race a few days. That man is a genius at choosing lines,
and getting around an MX track. He controls a dirt bike like Jimmy Page
writes and plays guitar music, poetry and precise motion. Also put about
350 miles on the mighty XR, on the huge trail system they got up there. The
MX bikes were having a hard time staying close to me on those 4th-5th gear
fire and jeep roads/trails. What an awesome place!
Russell
-----Original Message-----
From: Chris [mailto:kingsqueak@...]
Sent: Monday, June 28, 2004 9:02 PM
To:
DSN_klr650@yahoogroups.com
Subject: Re: [DSN_klr650] ugliest bike NKLR
If you mean an ugly soul, the pure character of the bike, my bike may
be a candidate.
It is certainly not one of the polished jewels of the bed and
breakfast circuit that some listers have. No, my bike does not get
the Harley toothbrush cleaning treatment.
It is certainly not one of the battle scarred veterans of the
single-track wars. My bike has the unfortunate luck of having an
owner who isn't yet up to that treatment. It will have to wait for
me.
Rather, my bike sits, mostly stock, a bunch of band-aid add-ons to
make it practical. Not cleaned, sun bleached with warped plastic.
Rarely washed unless I have to work on it extensively and only then to
spare ME from the dirt. Torn fork boots, stock tires, a bash plate
without a single nick on it. The killer, it is a '97 and only has
about 9k miles on it with barely over a thousand since last August.
My bike has a tortured soul.
I think the only worse insult I could give this poor machine would be
to stick a GPS on it, taunting it, with the thought that it might
someday go somewhere.