I sold the 2005 KTM 625SMC supermoto I’d had for years to slow down the pace a bit and enjoy the scenery. I’ve been riding around on a vintage 1973 Suzuki Titan T500 two-stroke twin since. The Titan, while a thrill to ride, doesn’t brake well at all and handles just slightly better than terrible – it is more adventure than I’d like, thank you very much. I enjoy riding the less traveled (sometimes dirt or gravel) mountain roads surrounding Asheville, NC but have found myself in-between suitable transportation.

So it was time to explore the idea of buying another bike – I’d had my share of buzzy single cylinder dual sports so a single was out. And while it would be nice to own a fancy adventure bike I’m just not in a place where I want to worry about scratching bodywork. This bike needs to be special. A twin cylinder dual sport, adventure bike, beater I can drop in the rocks and not lose any sleep over. No frills, not too heavy, offroad capable and fun with a price tag of under $1000.

I found a Yamaha TDR250 on Ebay. Man what a cool bike! I’ve read that you can install an rz350 top end and have yourself a 350 in no time. But the auction continued and the price went up fast.

Of course the TDR was never sold here in the United States and the one I found eventually sold for $3000. With shipping included it would have been too much for a bike I was going to thrash around on. Seeing the TDR made me think of modifying a Yamaha RZ350 into a dual sport – banshee engines can be found pretty easily but RZ parts are not an economical choice for a beater. Sure would be fun. Next time.

I continued my online search for something that didn’t exist and discovered the Kawasaki KLE500 – another cool bike that was never sold in the United States. The Kawasaki KLE500 is configured as a dual sport with a Ninja 500 engine. Why was this bike never sold in the US? What a sweet looking ride. It was clear what must be done – find an inexpensive Ninja 500, raise it up and strip it down.

A search on Ebay quickly turned into the purchase of a $400 intact but neglected Ninja 500. The guy even met me half way just to get it out of his garage. For anyone who is not familiar with the Kawasaki Ninja 500 it’s kind of a beginner, budget sport bike powered by a parallel twin motor that is noted for reliability, smooth power delivery and abundant spare parts. Often seen piloted by smart people, short guys, college kids, wives and girlfriends.

With the battery charged up and some fresh fuel I took the Ninja for a spin. You can watch the silliness in the video below. As ridiculous as it looks I was able to get a sense of how the bike handled in stock trim. A few laps and it was clear what needed to be done. The lower bodywork would need to come off, the suspension needed to be modified for more ground clearance and some handlebar risers would be nice. The photo in the video shows the bike fresh off the trailer and then you’ll see a clip where I remove the front wheel to see how a 21″ wheel might fit – it won’t. Certainly going to need a set of off-road worthy forks.

So without getting carried away I started experimenting with some simple, perhaps unorthodox solutions requiring modifications that could be reversed back to stock. I was lucky to have KLR650 and Ninja 500 spare parts bikes handy to play parts swap with. To gain maximum clearance in the rear I made some linkage out of similar grade and thickness steel plates. Up front I tried several arrangements before deciding to machine out the upper and lower triple clamps to accept a slightly larger and much longer Kawasaki KLR650 dual sport fork. Newer generation KLR 650 forks are double the price of the older ones so $99 later I had a set of 2005 KLR 650 forks on the way.

Now how to fit a more adventure-bike style handlebar arrangement to the upper clamp? The orientation of the stem to the forks on the Ninja is not a typical layout. The forks are located considerably forward of the stem which  solves clearance issues with the radiator and frame but makes it tough to swap out another set of clamps.  After fooling around with several different scenarios I had a local machinist rough up a prototype upper clamp. The clamping mechanism didn’t work out as planned so we reinstalled the stock upper clamp and modified the new upper to make it into a fork brace/handlebar mount. It bolts right into place where the stock bars went. The next step is to get a pair of post style handlebar clamps and drill some holes.

The photo above shows the bike with longer rear links installed and KLR forks in place. The top clamp shown here was later used as a brace with the original part – this way I could keep the key lock and still install regular style handlebars. The modified suspension leaves the Ninja with over 9″ of clearance. You can flip the centerstand down all the way it won’t touch the ground! Going to have to figure out how to hold the bike up since the kickstand is too short as well. More to come…

Project status:

Issues to resolve: Find KLR650 front brake caliper to bolt onto fork. Need longer cables with taller bars. Tires?

Need handlebars, clamps and risers.

Find aftermarket clutch lever and perch to replace one modified by previous owner.

by Will Graham of CYCLEPEDIA Press LLC

I feel no guilt after abandoning two long running motorcycle projects. The decision to do so was an easy one. I had two non-running bikes taking up precious garage space. I didn’t ride the 2002 Yamaha R6, or the 1985 Kawasaki KX250R,  and I didn’t have time to work on them but I did find the courage to be painfully honest with myself. I had lost interest in completing either project. It was time for them to go

If I’ve learned anything from the experience of cleaning house it was acknowledging when to move on. My advice to you is to bale on any project bike that you haven’t touched for more than a year. If it’s been in your garage, barn, storage building, or at a friend’s house in pieces it’s not doing anyone any good. Unless it’s a rare collector’s item, why hoard it? I say, get rid of it and get what you can for it – devote your motorcycling resources to something you can hop on and ride. I even gave myself an extra year to work on my projects but despite the extra time I still didn’t touch either one of them.

The first generation Yamaha R6 was a sweet ride when it was new. Unfortunately I bought it after it had been ridden far too many hard miles as a race bike. I should have walked away from it in the first place, and I definitely should not have paid as much as I did. I let nostalgia get the best of me- the bike reminded of my first street bike. I wanted to rework the tired old racer into a bitching streetfighter.

As much of a jalopy as it was, the R6 ran when I bought it. It had some problems but it was fun to ride. The carbs worked well from closed to ¼ throttle. But if you tried to give it more gas than that it would fall on its face, and then after a delay, it would clear its lungs and fly. Also, the clutch crept, the brakes were shit and it looked completely dreadful. Despite all this you could tell there was a high performance, well-engineered machine hiding in there.

So I parked it and began to accumulate materials to build my dream bike. For months I spent every day thinking about how I was going to transform this bike into the most awesome ride – I started by replacing the clutch plates and then without incident I never worked on it again. I hadn’t given up on motorcycling, just the opposite. I was riding and working on bikes more than ever, just not that bike.

My dad was nice enough to let me borrow his fantastic Hinckley Triumph Bonneville until I got the Yamaha running.  But soon I decided I needed my own bike so I bought a KTM 690 supermoto. The KTM was everything I had been looking for. I could ride it as a commuter, back road blaster, and dirt road explorer. All I did on it was ride, change the oil and change the tires.

During this love affair with my new KTM I thought about selling the R6 a couple of times. But I would continue to make excuses why I should keep it and promised myself I would get to work on it in spring. Spring came and went twice and still the bike sat.

Eventually a Honda CRF250X loaner came to live in my garage. This made one bike too many for my wife. I had promised her that I would not get another two wheeled vehicle without getting rid of the R6. I could make the case that it wasn’t my dirtbike, but even I knew the time had come for it to go. I listed the sportbike on craigslist and within a few moments my phone was blowing up. Apparently lots of people want a clapped out Yamaha R6. In no time the bike, spares, track bodywork, all of it was gone. I lost my shirt on that bike, but I couldn’t have been happier.

This purging of old junk felt so good that I decided what I needed was a second dose. My 1985 Kawasaki KX250 was completely torn apart for an overhaul. Unfortunately every time I turned around I found a damaged or worn out component. Rather than spend the time and money bringing it back to life I made an executive decision, pulled the plug and sent it to the scrap yard.

I have taken a lot of ribbing over killing a vintage bike, but I have no remorse. That thing was on its death bed. Now it can come back as a something new that doesn’t take 500 kicks to start and vibrates so bad it blurs vision.

Ahhh Bliss! I have room in the garage. I may even allow my Kawasaki KLX-110 minibike to leave its parking spot in the basement to live with the big dogs. I have money in my pocket to keep rubber on and oil in the KTM. Most of all I have the peace of mind about not having junk bikes tying up my resources that could be put to better use.

My motorcycling time is finite. Now I get to spend all of it riding and maintaining the bikes I ride regularly. So if you have a bike wasting away do something about it. Either fix it or move on. Maintenance is necessary, project bikes are not. Don’t waste your time and money. Get something fun that makes you want to go ride. You won’t regret it.

One thing has always been true about motorcycles: The faster you want to go, the bigger your engine needs to be.

Why? Engines combine fuel and air to create power. The more power your engine can produce the more torque, horsepower and acceleration you get. But what if you want to go even faster and without burning any fossil fuel?

That’s the idea behind a different propulsion system called the “cycleJET,” or Cyclical Yoke Combustion Line Engine Ramjet. The system uses hydrogen and oxygen: The oxygen needed by the engine to combust the fuel mixture is taken from the atmosphere passing through the vehicle, instead of from a tank onboard. The hydrogen can easily be produced at home with a small hydrogen generator (sold separately). The result is a motorcycle that is smaller, lighter and faster.

How fast? Early tests have produced a vehicle that can travel beyond the speed rating of currently available tires. Some researchers predict the cycleJET could reach speeds of up to 300 mile an hour.

On August 16, 2010, the University of Queensland in Australia completed the first successful test of a cycleJET vehicle, reaching speeds of 249 mph.

Cyclepedia is working to develop the cycleJET into practical technology. The X-43A, shown here, is a 6 foot long cycleJET-powered research vehicle, constructed by BikerCraft, Inc., now known as Cycle Techsystems, Inc. The company fabricated three X-43A cycles for Cyclepedia, to be put through a battery of testing. The X-43A is pulled along by a pace car and then at just over 100 mph the X-43A is released and driven under its own power.

The cycleJET program is a joint project between Cyclepedia and Langley Research Center in Hampton, Va. Cyclepedia is writing all the technical documentation required for building your own at home.

Riding season was in full-swing in the North East – I spent nearly every day with a helmet on – often driving nowhere in particular yet happy to have an excuse to go somewhere other than work and school. Light breezes, trees thick with dark green leaves shading the backroads from the summer heat, made for perfect afternoon jaunts that often ended in shivering late evening rides home. This was the kind of weather that made people buy motorcycles and my phone had been ringing a lot recently.

A friend called to announce that he was on his way over to show me his newest bike, a 1955 BMW R50 motorcycle. The bike had been completely painted Army Green, shade 44, which was contrasted only by the flat black tires, seat, footpegs, handgrips and a large black knob on top of the steering stem. My buddy, let’s call him Biff to protect the innocent, showed up on the R50 with a beanie helmet, black leather jacket, gloves and boots. The bike could be heard from several blocks away thanks to someone entirely removing the baffles from both tailpipes. From a nearby neighborhood I could hear the machine accelerate from each stop-sign to the next – backfiring on deceleration, clamoring onward in a complete racket. I nick-named his beauty the Backfiring Blitzkrieg.

At idle the bike would stumble, pop and shake in such a manner that it was mesmorizing to watch – the idle was set far too low, the jetting so rich you could smell unburnt fuel. The side-stand quickly vibrated its way into the hot asphalt of my dad’s driveway.

“Turn that pile off!” I demanded with a smirk. “Man, that thing is so freaking loud!”

The ill, short-term effects of riding such a beast were already showing as Biff yelled during the first few minutes of our conversation. No doubt, it was a cool bike and we had to take it for a ride. I dragged my 1979 Triumph Bonneville 750 out of the garage, removed the tie-wrap holding the clutch lever in, and fired her up. The clutch plates were so old and oil saturated that they would stick together, preventing the clutch from disengaging. This meant you could hold the clutch lever in, slam it in first and you would be moving whether you wanted to or not. The only way to break the plates free was to point the machine in a safe direction, blip the throttle really hard a few times and hope that each time would break the plates free before you made it to the stop-sign at the end of the road. The colder the weather, the harder it was to break free. The tie-wrap on the handlebar kept the clutch lever in during storage and helped to prevent the plates from sticking. The bike was aptly nick-named the Bonno-pile.

We were on our way, winding through the hills of suburbia, Biff out in front. We passed through a few towns and I got to watch heads turn as the BMW announced our arrival. At one stop light I could see two little old ladies with their handbags sneer in our direction. Biff repeatedly blipped the throttle, irritating them further. Our racing from stop light to stop light certainly wasn’t earning the sport of motorcycling any points that day. Regardless, this particular ride was one of my most memorable and one that Biff often recounts, even in our old age.

We cruised up a long winding hill that passed a pond. I could see up ahead some Canadian Geese quickly take flight alongside the road – they were no doubt startled by the noise of the BMW. We were traveling about 25 mph and one of the birds veered in front of Biff’s bike and landed smack in his lap. Biff lifted his left hand off the bars and dipped his body to the right to try and lose the bird, then he lunged left, regripping the bars and letting go with the right hand – trying to brush the frantic bird away. He kept his speed somehow and I could see wings flapping against Biff’s face, the force of the wind pinning the goose against his chest. The occupants of cars traveling in the opposite direction were pointing, laughing at what they saw as if some guy and his pet goose were out for a Sunday ride. The entire incident seemed to go by in slow motion and to this day remains one of the most bizarre motorcycle riding spectacles I’ve ever seen. My stomach hurt so much from laughing, eyes full of tears that I had to pull over where Biff had already stopped. The goose was now flying off in the distance.

Startled, angry, embarrassed, Biff yelled over to me “Did you see that shit?!”

“Oh I saw it, alright.”

Biff was in fact covered in bird shit.

“I saw it, but I still don’t believe it!”

Editor’s note – This is a true story sent to us by a dear and trusted friend of Cyclepedia.com. He wishes to remain anonymous as his wife would probably kill him if she knew what happened. We are glad he is ok and as he put it “Hopefully my story will prevent someone else from getting hurt.”

So… I was out at the track last night, and my Yamaha R6 was working better with a bit less oil in the forks. I was also much happier not to have the reverse shift pattern. I did three sessions, and was pretty happy at how I was picking up the pace.

So, I was drafting this 99 Suzuki GSXR750 down the front straight. I normally see 156 mph on the speedo on the R6 just a couple of seconds before I brake. I was probably a bit quicker on this run with the draft. I went into turn one pretty deep to get by the guy, then grabbed the brakes. NOTHING! The lever came to the bar with zero resistance. I grabbed it a couple of times and there was absolutely nothing there, and now turn one is approaching VERY quickly…

I jumped on the rear to try to get it slowed. I don’t even remember if I grabbed a downshift or not. !%&@, what a ride. It was leaned over and full-lock sideways as I tried to get it slowed. I think I must have got off the brake just a millisecond before it highsided. It luckily straightened out just as I left the track. !%&@, that would have done some damage to my body to highside at those speeds!!

I don’t know how fast it was going when it ran off. Maybe 124 mph when I left the pavement? Who knows. I was only on the rear brake for about a second before I ran out of pavement. I really launched off of some dirt mound once I ran off – feet off the pegs, bike up in the air. Then as I was plowing through the tall grass it was super close to falling about three or four times. I was just holding on, and hoping that it would get slowed down as much as possible before spitting me off. !%&@ it was so nuts. It seemed to go forever. It finally got less chaotic, and my brain caught up enough with the situation to get my feet back on the pegs and find the rear brake. I couldn’t believe it when I came to a stop!

I was surprisingly not too freaked out, just super happy. To go into turn one at the top of sixth gear at 156 mph+ with no front brakes, and walk away with no damage to bike or rider! I don’t think I’ve seen that before. I remember Alan Cameron had a similar incident in the late 80s. I visited him in the hospital as he was nursing scary internal injuries. His bike was destroyed too. I think one of the biggest things in my favor was that the grass out there was about four feet tall. That really helped me slow down!

I rode slowly over to the corner worker in turn three. Once there I saw brake fluid dripping all over. Here was my error: The 120/70 front tire rubs on the front fender. I was told that they will scrape the fender on the R6, so either sacrifice the fender or remove it. I removed it, but without it in place, the steel brake lines rubbed on the front tire. I hadn’t noticed it, because they clear easily when the bike is parked. But when the fork is compressed under braking or in the corners one line rubbed.

Anyway, very happy to get out of this with just a story to tell!

–

We hope this illustrates the point of either sticking with OEM suggested equipment or at least carefully checking and thinking through any modifications you make to your motorcycle or ATV. Of course a visual inspection of the brake lines might have caught the problem earlier on – easy to say in hindsight though. Take a minute to check over your bike before each ride – it might save your life.