My book "Lessons In Lunacy; Confessions Of A Motorcycle Nut" has been out of print for a number of years. To my knowledge my next door neighbor bought the last copy on Earth. So I thought as a Christmas Gift to my fellow riders I would post a story out of my book for your long weekend's read. Hope you enjoy.
Why Me, And The Steep End Of The Learning Curve
Years ago when I started in the nuclear industry as an Operator trainee I learned that there is such a thing as the ‘steep end of the learning curve.’ Academic types talk about a bell curve of knowledge where the student knows nothing (at the bottom) and progresses up the curve. The slope of the curve is determined by the amount of information needed to be digested during the learning activities. The average nuclear training day is about eight hours long and it typically covers a myriad of technically complex topics. In comparison to college classes (I have a BS degree from Kansas State University) nuclear training classes were like drinking from a two and half inch fire hose with a straight bore nozzle to college’s garden hose. Once you have gained some knowledge the curve’s slope flattens out near the top of the bell where supposedly ‘integration’ takes place by the student, but I have found that you can just as easily slide back down the slippery slope of ignorance back to the beginning.
A couple years ago I had offered to change bike tires for anyone needing it done because I have the tire fixture to do it and to be a nice guy (also I’m easily bored). I ended up changing a lot of tires (for friends, coworkers, strangers, strange coworkers, and relatives) that ranged from ‘I can see the wear bar’ to riding on the carcass. Most of these folks would just bring me their wheels needing new hoops so I didn’t have the joy of removing and reinstalling their wheels. So when my own 2005 Triumph Rocket III (daily rider) front tire finally squared off (which is bad) it was time to work on my own ride and enjoy the thrill of tire replacement. I buy replacement tires from a discount tire web site because they ship it to your door and I live in the country (which saves me gas) and I change my own tires to reduce costs (basically because I’m cheap). Now the last time I had replaced my Rocket’s front tire (a first time evolution putting me on the ‘steep end of the learning curve’) I was unhappy with my maintenance methodology (although it worked) for getting the front wheel high enough to clear my bike lift’s wheel clamp and roll it out from under the fender. To raise the front wheel sufficiently to clear the fender and the vice’s jaws was none too confidence inspiring since it put my 800+ pound Rocket at about 45 degrees on the lift’s table and waving like a flag. I had the bike strapped down in the back using ratchet straps and used my floor jack under the engine to jack the front high enough to get the tire/wheel to clear the jaws and the fender. Triumph built this bike with such a big engine it doesn’t use a frame, the engine is the frame. The front wheel was about 3 feet off my lift table and I had wood cribbing under the bike’s engine to support it while jerking and jostling the wheel out. I later used some of that wood to build my wife’s garden shed with enough left over to put an addition on the house.
So in an attempt to be proactive I purchased Flipmeister's Rocket III paddock stand (there is a web site for Flip) in hopes it would provide a more stable platform on which to wrench on my bike (it uses existing bosses in the rear sub-frame) and not get the front wheel in the stratosphere or stack a cord of wood under it to do it. So when Flip's care package arrived I was ready that Saturday to head up to my shop determined to replace my front tire using the paddock stand.
I have never used a paddock stand before, and Flip's instruction sheet was clear, concise (one paragraph) and easy to understand so I surmised it was no big deal, I didn’t need the instructions. That of course should have raised hackles on the back of my neck because simple in my universe doesn’t exist. I specifically bought his stand to use on my lift since it fits well within the lift’s table rails with enough clearance for the breaker bar to lift the bike without interference. I got the bike situated on the lift table with the rear tire centered over the lift’s tire hatch (or close enough maybe). I then installed Flip's Paddock stand incorrectly into the frame bosses per misread instructions, and used a piece of old carpet under the stand’s legs (cams) so I wouldn't take the lift table paint off and then applied grunt to lift the bike. Instead of the expected resistance (according to the note on the instruction sheet there is a lot of effort needed to raise this bike) lifting my 800+ pound motorcycle it rolled up onto the stand smooth as warm butter. Hmmnn, this could be trouble. The instructions said it was going to take a lot of effort (like standing on the breaker bar and don’t use a cheap breaker bar because it might break type warning, (no kidding)) since the rear wheel was going to be lifted off the ground. I could have just farted in its general direction and it would have popped onto Flip’s stand, it was that easy. This was scary. Just to be sure it was correct I gave the bike a little side-to-side and it was rock solid, stable and confidence inspiring. Now this was cool. It was also wrong. It was then I noticed the rear wheel was still flat on the table. Not so good. When I went to lower the bike to add some cribbing under the cams I saw one retaining pin on the stand had worked out about three-quarters of the way and was threatening to topple my beloved Rocket off my lift. Now I’m on the steep end of the curve and cleaning my shorts. I broke down and actually read the instructions and determined I was a complete idiot while Flip is really pretty clever. I reconfigured the stand pivot pins per his instructions this time and the pins remained firmly attached, go figure.
I should explain that I’m a Darksider. Some years ago I had gotten a little miffed that Triumph designated $300 rear tires I was mounting up only to have them last about six thousand miles. The center would be down to the carcass and the sides still had the tire mold nubbins. That was costing me a nickel a mile for rubber and it was only worn out in the middle, the sides were still new (color me irritated). That also meant I was putting a new tire on every year and in some years twice. That was more money flying out of my exiguous bank account for what amounts to a routine maintenance item than I was totally happy with (color me pissed). Therefore after some research and gathering of some opinions (which I noted from the forum were more bountiful than belly-buttons) I switched the rear tire from a motorcycle specific tire to a general car tire. Hence I went to the “dark side.” The OEM tire is a Metzeler ME 880 XXL 240/50R16, so I replaced it with a $125.00, 225/55R16 Bridgestone Potenza Grid. The aspect ratio of the car tire was enough to prevent the tire tread clearing the lift’s table on the paddock stand. Bummer. On the plus side it had 14,000 miles and still looked new. This hindrance however was not forecast when I put it on, rat spit.
Now my “plan” was to get the rear tire off the table so I could remove the lift’s tire hatch, then I would use ratchet straps to pull the back of the bike down and the rear tire would then recess into the table's hole propelling the front high enough the tire would clear the fender for removal and installation without getting the front end into my shop’s overhead. This was my “plan.” I thought it should take maybe 30 minutes, maybe an hour at the most to have the front wheel off. My “plan” however had no hope of working if the bike’s rear tire was still flat on the table preventing removal of the hatch cover. So now I'm on the steep end of the learning curve (again). I got a 2X6 piece of scrap lumber and placed it under the stand’s cams and then tried to use my breaker bar to lift the bike. I found all that resistance mentioned in the instruction note plus some they probably didn’t know about. I surmised after a few attempts if I used a 60 foot pipe extension on my breaker bar or perhaps borrowed King Kong (or his cousin Mighty Joe Young) for a day I might have been able to lift the bike onto the stand. Those pesky instructions were proving formidable. Short of erecting a tower crane it was going to be no soap as a one man show.
So it was time to bring out old faithful, my small floor jack. I cinched the front forks with tie-downs to the table for stability and then used the jack with a scrap wood 1X4 to lift the rear high enough to get the paddock stand with the scrap 2X6 under it, and then lowered it onto the paddock stand. Not exactly how Flip had designed it but it worked. The rear wheel was two inches clear of the table. That was sweet. I pulled the rear tire hatch cover and used 2 tie-downs on the K-Drive saddlebag supports to force the rear down and raise the front. Worked just like I knew what I was doing (cue the Twilight Zone theme). I didn't see any convenient place to locate tie-down hooks on the table to hold the front up so I used the lift’s scissors cross-member under the table as an anchor point. This attachment point was actually 8 inches forward of the rear wheel that was being pulled down into the table cavity. I pivoted the bike down using the luggage rack for leverage and then cinched the tie-downs to hold it in place. The front wheel was six inches in the air. How sweet.
So now I have the bike perfectly setup for front tire replacement. Now I could have done all the loosening of bits and bobs on the front wheel while the bike was still on a flat, stable and level surface with lots of support but that takes all the fun out of watching an 800+ pound bike bob around like a cork in a bathtub while you grunt and sweat to break over-torqued and seized bolts to remove hardware. It was during this phase of my operation that I really wish I had taken a class in physics in high school. Unfortunately that didn't happen. What did happen was the bike decided it was time to roll off Flip’s paddock stand while I was jerking on a front brake caliper bolt. Those tie-downs I had pulling the rear tire down into the tire hatch hole had put enough forward bias pressure on the frame that the bike rolled forward off the paddock stand (just like one normally rolls a bike off a center stand). The paddock stand cams rolled over while I was jerking around on the caliper bolts rolling the bike a foot forward on my lift. Convenient when the bike is 30" off the floor. All the stabilizing straps that had been twang taut went limp as over boiled spaghetti and the ensuing heart attack by yours truly watching his 800+ pound pride and joy teeter on flopping off the lift while not lethal, was disabling. I never appreciated until that particular moment what 800 pounds really feels like when you are trying to hold it up while off balance and endeavoring not to fill your shorts with a large brown crayon. I can say this feeling has the distinct texture and aroma of panic. I was truly thankful for two things. One the front tire vice on the lift had arrested the bikes forward momentum preventing the bike from rolling off the lift and two, that I had taken a healthy dump that morning preventing a LOCA (Loss of Crayon Accident) with the jolt of adrenalin that was surging through my sphincter. Without either one I'm afraid it could have been much-much worse.
So now I'm (again) on the steep end of the learning curve. The rear tire was now bottomed out in the hole down to the engine, the bike is completely unstable side-to-side and the front wheel is deep enough into the tire vise that the vice is pinching the cast iron front brake rotors like hold-down springs. This is not the kind of moment one usually wants to attend to learning opportunities. I had to either learn how to levitate the bike mentally or find a systematic way of re-stabilizing it as I reoriented it on the lift. To pull the bike back to clear the rotors required I get the rear tire out of the lift’s hole first, which required I get the bike’s rear end back into the air first, which required a stable bike first. This would be your standard definition of “quandary” and/or “conundrum,” as to what comes first, hence the steep end of the curve. This was going to be a 30 minute job (remember), or an hour at the most (i.e. the “plan”). I was now into hour 3, sweat was rolling down my face like Yosemite Falls and I was not even close to having the front wheel off. First things first, I lowered the lift to the floor. That way the bike would not try any half-gainer if it did dive off the lift (not that it would be damaged any less, or when I think about it, anymore). Next I pulled the bike as far back as I could get it without getting a hernia or rupturing my spleen. This effort almost cleared the rotors of the tire vice, almost. I stabilized the bike best I could and got a crowbar I keep for demolition and wedged it between the left brake rotor and the tire vice and forced the bike back far enough to clear both rotors. I then clamped the tire vice down until the tire rubber began to squeal for mercy. This finally stabilized the bike so it wouldn’t try any Greg Louganis tricks diving off my lift. I then used the floor jack to again raise the rear tire and reinstalled the hatch cover incase the bike found a way of misbehaving again. With that done I unclamped the tire and rolled the bike back to my original starting position. This time when I had it rolled up on the paddock stand I used 2 tie-downs to pull rearwards using the bike’s footboard rails strung to the back of the table to lock the paddock stand. This put strong rearward pressure on the bike frame so I could then use two tie-downs looped into these rear pulling tie-down hooks to pull straight down (not forward as before) to drop the rear and raise the front. This raised the front tire sufficiently again to clear the tire from the fender (once off), and this time the whole thing was stable as Gibraltar. Now as I bounced and bobbed the bike (because I refuse to learn from my mistakes) trying to remove bits and bobs that were over-torqued, seized and harder to remove than a six term Senator the bike stayed put. About four hours and forty-five minutes after I started my thirty minute job (an hour tops I was positive) I was rolling the bike off the lift with a new front tire mounted and balanced.
If I haven't mentioned it before the Steep End of the Learning Curve sucks out loud.
Why Me, And The Steep End Of The Learning Curve
Years ago when I started in the nuclear industry as an Operator trainee I learned that there is such a thing as the ‘steep end of the learning curve.’ Academic types talk about a bell curve of knowledge where the student knows nothing (at the bottom) and progresses up the curve. The slope of the curve is determined by the amount of information needed to be digested during the learning activities. The average nuclear training day is about eight hours long and it typically covers a myriad of technically complex topics. In comparison to college classes (I have a BS degree from Kansas State University) nuclear training classes were like drinking from a two and half inch fire hose with a straight bore nozzle to college’s garden hose. Once you have gained some knowledge the curve’s slope flattens out near the top of the bell where supposedly ‘integration’ takes place by the student, but I have found that you can just as easily slide back down the slippery slope of ignorance back to the beginning.
A couple years ago I had offered to change bike tires for anyone needing it done because I have the tire fixture to do it and to be a nice guy (also I’m easily bored). I ended up changing a lot of tires (for friends, coworkers, strangers, strange coworkers, and relatives) that ranged from ‘I can see the wear bar’ to riding on the carcass. Most of these folks would just bring me their wheels needing new hoops so I didn’t have the joy of removing and reinstalling their wheels. So when my own 2005 Triumph Rocket III (daily rider) front tire finally squared off (which is bad) it was time to work on my own ride and enjoy the thrill of tire replacement. I buy replacement tires from a discount tire web site because they ship it to your door and I live in the country (which saves me gas) and I change my own tires to reduce costs (basically because I’m cheap). Now the last time I had replaced my Rocket’s front tire (a first time evolution putting me on the ‘steep end of the learning curve’) I was unhappy with my maintenance methodology (although it worked) for getting the front wheel high enough to clear my bike lift’s wheel clamp and roll it out from under the fender. To raise the front wheel sufficiently to clear the fender and the vice’s jaws was none too confidence inspiring since it put my 800+ pound Rocket at about 45 degrees on the lift’s table and waving like a flag. I had the bike strapped down in the back using ratchet straps and used my floor jack under the engine to jack the front high enough to get the tire/wheel to clear the jaws and the fender. Triumph built this bike with such a big engine it doesn’t use a frame, the engine is the frame. The front wheel was about 3 feet off my lift table and I had wood cribbing under the bike’s engine to support it while jerking and jostling the wheel out. I later used some of that wood to build my wife’s garden shed with enough left over to put an addition on the house.
So in an attempt to be proactive I purchased Flipmeister's Rocket III paddock stand (there is a web site for Flip) in hopes it would provide a more stable platform on which to wrench on my bike (it uses existing bosses in the rear sub-frame) and not get the front wheel in the stratosphere or stack a cord of wood under it to do it. So when Flip's care package arrived I was ready that Saturday to head up to my shop determined to replace my front tire using the paddock stand.
I have never used a paddock stand before, and Flip's instruction sheet was clear, concise (one paragraph) and easy to understand so I surmised it was no big deal, I didn’t need the instructions. That of course should have raised hackles on the back of my neck because simple in my universe doesn’t exist. I specifically bought his stand to use on my lift since it fits well within the lift’s table rails with enough clearance for the breaker bar to lift the bike without interference. I got the bike situated on the lift table with the rear tire centered over the lift’s tire hatch (or close enough maybe). I then installed Flip's Paddock stand incorrectly into the frame bosses per misread instructions, and used a piece of old carpet under the stand’s legs (cams) so I wouldn't take the lift table paint off and then applied grunt to lift the bike. Instead of the expected resistance (according to the note on the instruction sheet there is a lot of effort needed to raise this bike) lifting my 800+ pound motorcycle it rolled up onto the stand smooth as warm butter. Hmmnn, this could be trouble. The instructions said it was going to take a lot of effort (like standing on the breaker bar and don’t use a cheap breaker bar because it might break type warning, (no kidding)) since the rear wheel was going to be lifted off the ground. I could have just farted in its general direction and it would have popped onto Flip’s stand, it was that easy. This was scary. Just to be sure it was correct I gave the bike a little side-to-side and it was rock solid, stable and confidence inspiring. Now this was cool. It was also wrong. It was then I noticed the rear wheel was still flat on the table. Not so good. When I went to lower the bike to add some cribbing under the cams I saw one retaining pin on the stand had worked out about three-quarters of the way and was threatening to topple my beloved Rocket off my lift. Now I’m on the steep end of the curve and cleaning my shorts. I broke down and actually read the instructions and determined I was a complete idiot while Flip is really pretty clever. I reconfigured the stand pivot pins per his instructions this time and the pins remained firmly attached, go figure.
I should explain that I’m a Darksider. Some years ago I had gotten a little miffed that Triumph designated $300 rear tires I was mounting up only to have them last about six thousand miles. The center would be down to the carcass and the sides still had the tire mold nubbins. That was costing me a nickel a mile for rubber and it was only worn out in the middle, the sides were still new (color me irritated). That also meant I was putting a new tire on every year and in some years twice. That was more money flying out of my exiguous bank account for what amounts to a routine maintenance item than I was totally happy with (color me pissed). Therefore after some research and gathering of some opinions (which I noted from the forum were more bountiful than belly-buttons) I switched the rear tire from a motorcycle specific tire to a general car tire. Hence I went to the “dark side.” The OEM tire is a Metzeler ME 880 XXL 240/50R16, so I replaced it with a $125.00, 225/55R16 Bridgestone Potenza Grid. The aspect ratio of the car tire was enough to prevent the tire tread clearing the lift’s table on the paddock stand. Bummer. On the plus side it had 14,000 miles and still looked new. This hindrance however was not forecast when I put it on, rat spit.
Now my “plan” was to get the rear tire off the table so I could remove the lift’s tire hatch, then I would use ratchet straps to pull the back of the bike down and the rear tire would then recess into the table's hole propelling the front high enough the tire would clear the fender for removal and installation without getting the front end into my shop’s overhead. This was my “plan.” I thought it should take maybe 30 minutes, maybe an hour at the most to have the front wheel off. My “plan” however had no hope of working if the bike’s rear tire was still flat on the table preventing removal of the hatch cover. So now I'm on the steep end of the learning curve (again). I got a 2X6 piece of scrap lumber and placed it under the stand’s cams and then tried to use my breaker bar to lift the bike. I found all that resistance mentioned in the instruction note plus some they probably didn’t know about. I surmised after a few attempts if I used a 60 foot pipe extension on my breaker bar or perhaps borrowed King Kong (or his cousin Mighty Joe Young) for a day I might have been able to lift the bike onto the stand. Those pesky instructions were proving formidable. Short of erecting a tower crane it was going to be no soap as a one man show.
So it was time to bring out old faithful, my small floor jack. I cinched the front forks with tie-downs to the table for stability and then used the jack with a scrap wood 1X4 to lift the rear high enough to get the paddock stand with the scrap 2X6 under it, and then lowered it onto the paddock stand. Not exactly how Flip had designed it but it worked. The rear wheel was two inches clear of the table. That was sweet. I pulled the rear tire hatch cover and used 2 tie-downs on the K-Drive saddlebag supports to force the rear down and raise the front. Worked just like I knew what I was doing (cue the Twilight Zone theme). I didn't see any convenient place to locate tie-down hooks on the table to hold the front up so I used the lift’s scissors cross-member under the table as an anchor point. This attachment point was actually 8 inches forward of the rear wheel that was being pulled down into the table cavity. I pivoted the bike down using the luggage rack for leverage and then cinched the tie-downs to hold it in place. The front wheel was six inches in the air. How sweet.
So now I have the bike perfectly setup for front tire replacement. Now I could have done all the loosening of bits and bobs on the front wheel while the bike was still on a flat, stable and level surface with lots of support but that takes all the fun out of watching an 800+ pound bike bob around like a cork in a bathtub while you grunt and sweat to break over-torqued and seized bolts to remove hardware. It was during this phase of my operation that I really wish I had taken a class in physics in high school. Unfortunately that didn't happen. What did happen was the bike decided it was time to roll off Flip’s paddock stand while I was jerking on a front brake caliper bolt. Those tie-downs I had pulling the rear tire down into the tire hatch hole had put enough forward bias pressure on the frame that the bike rolled forward off the paddock stand (just like one normally rolls a bike off a center stand). The paddock stand cams rolled over while I was jerking around on the caliper bolts rolling the bike a foot forward on my lift. Convenient when the bike is 30" off the floor. All the stabilizing straps that had been twang taut went limp as over boiled spaghetti and the ensuing heart attack by yours truly watching his 800+ pound pride and joy teeter on flopping off the lift while not lethal, was disabling. I never appreciated until that particular moment what 800 pounds really feels like when you are trying to hold it up while off balance and endeavoring not to fill your shorts with a large brown crayon. I can say this feeling has the distinct texture and aroma of panic. I was truly thankful for two things. One the front tire vice on the lift had arrested the bikes forward momentum preventing the bike from rolling off the lift and two, that I had taken a healthy dump that morning preventing a LOCA (Loss of Crayon Accident) with the jolt of adrenalin that was surging through my sphincter. Without either one I'm afraid it could have been much-much worse.
So now I'm (again) on the steep end of the learning curve. The rear tire was now bottomed out in the hole down to the engine, the bike is completely unstable side-to-side and the front wheel is deep enough into the tire vise that the vice is pinching the cast iron front brake rotors like hold-down springs. This is not the kind of moment one usually wants to attend to learning opportunities. I had to either learn how to levitate the bike mentally or find a systematic way of re-stabilizing it as I reoriented it on the lift. To pull the bike back to clear the rotors required I get the rear tire out of the lift’s hole first, which required I get the bike’s rear end back into the air first, which required a stable bike first. This would be your standard definition of “quandary” and/or “conundrum,” as to what comes first, hence the steep end of the curve. This was going to be a 30 minute job (remember), or an hour at the most (i.e. the “plan”). I was now into hour 3, sweat was rolling down my face like Yosemite Falls and I was not even close to having the front wheel off. First things first, I lowered the lift to the floor. That way the bike would not try any half-gainer if it did dive off the lift (not that it would be damaged any less, or when I think about it, anymore). Next I pulled the bike as far back as I could get it without getting a hernia or rupturing my spleen. This effort almost cleared the rotors of the tire vice, almost. I stabilized the bike best I could and got a crowbar I keep for demolition and wedged it between the left brake rotor and the tire vice and forced the bike back far enough to clear both rotors. I then clamped the tire vice down until the tire rubber began to squeal for mercy. This finally stabilized the bike so it wouldn’t try any Greg Louganis tricks diving off my lift. I then used the floor jack to again raise the rear tire and reinstalled the hatch cover incase the bike found a way of misbehaving again. With that done I unclamped the tire and rolled the bike back to my original starting position. This time when I had it rolled up on the paddock stand I used 2 tie-downs to pull rearwards using the bike’s footboard rails strung to the back of the table to lock the paddock stand. This put strong rearward pressure on the bike frame so I could then use two tie-downs looped into these rear pulling tie-down hooks to pull straight down (not forward as before) to drop the rear and raise the front. This raised the front tire sufficiently again to clear the tire from the fender (once off), and this time the whole thing was stable as Gibraltar. Now as I bounced and bobbed the bike (because I refuse to learn from my mistakes) trying to remove bits and bobs that were over-torqued, seized and harder to remove than a six term Senator the bike stayed put. About four hours and forty-five minutes after I started my thirty minute job (an hour tops I was positive) I was rolling the bike off the lift with a new front tire mounted and balanced.
If I haven't mentioned it before the Steep End of the Learning Curve sucks out loud.
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