Heebie Jeebies for Girls on CBs, part 4!

 Although we've featured the CB160 before, found a new cool overview of one, thank tank gives it away although the speedo, headlight bucket, bars, etc., have been changed. Might as well talk about some evolution, since the CB160 sloper (sloping parallel twin, stressed member -- engine was part of the frame) gave way briefly to the CB175 sloper (adding a 5th gear), then the CB175 upright twin.

CB175 went from 1969 to 1973, and had a CL version as well (below, with scrambler pipes), and a CD version. My buddy Vargas has a killer example, in very nice shape, and we tried to source him some stock pipes since his were developing holes -- early Honda exhaust could be thin metal and sometimes poorly designed, so water pooled and rust holes developed. We went to an old junk collector with a yard full of bikes, by the name of Stan. Great guy, yard and house full of dog shit, raced Indians in the 50s, eccentric and cranky, but I've pulled some cool parts out of there. We found decent CB175 exhaust, although Vargas later decided against using it, but Stan wanted to sell the whole bike. For $200. Pretty much complete, no side covers and fucked up seat. How could I say no? 

Vargas got the exhaust for $60, so the bike cost me $140. I decided to get it running, and did the usual: plugs, points, carb rebuild, coat the tank, timing, oil change. The thing fired right up and ran through all gears. I had seen some glitter paint and I thought I would try it, so the bike became known as Gary Glitter (See blog posts here and here). Next were some nice bits: headlight bucket and speedo from a CB160 that I had lying around, clip ons that I get made, a mini-tach that I had for another project before I went another direction, cool  NOS old white grips, a cool looking cat tail light, and pod filters from Bob's, scrambler exhaust also from Bob's (those guys charged me like, $20 or something...), cafe seat old tank and "upholstered" with glittery gold fabric. I had to buy some thin metal tubing to make the pods work since they hit the frame, and rewire the battery into the seat bump, but that's standard shit right there. Probably had $250 in parts on top of the $140 entry fee. Got it dialed in and running killer, and blasted around the neighborhood for a few days. I kinda wish I woulda kept it, but the deal was it had to go, so I offered it up to friends for the "friends" price with no takers. Then I put it on craigslist for $1500, and sold it in a day to a new student at MMI, no haggling, cash on the barrel head. Wonder if his buddies at MMI gave him shit for having a tiny, glittery gold bike?

In 1974, Honda upped the displacement to 200cc and added a sixth gear, and made some cosmetic changes. The CB200s are sorta famous for the weird vinyl stripe down the tank -- some people love 'em, I think it's kind of hideous. They also had a cable-operated front disc brake.

 

Around 2000 or so, I picked up a CB200 for $50 on craigslist in Phoenix. Did the usual, got it running, but never got it registered or anything, mostly just tooled around the neighborhood. Roger came down from Colorado, and I wound up trading it to him for a tattoo. Easy come, easy go, I guess. Great little bikes, although Maaike's was a stubborn little fucker that took some time, effort and outsourcing.

Boring update, who cares, right?

 

So uh, yeah, fuck all to report. Arm is still jacked, so I am not skating or riding the motorbikes. Photo above is 6 weeks after the break, no surgery, no cast, but it looks like someone patched up my humerus with JB Weld. It's all good, gotta get it flexible first, then strong, then back on board.

 

Did get to see Fred SMith's band the Loud Ones play a record release show at the Taunton skatepark with Chuck Treece/McRad. Super fun, total blast, and above spokesmodel Big Tim blurs a grind while the band plays.

 It was rad to meet and talk to Chuck Treece a little, legendary dude, this is a Thrasher cover from May 1984.

Good buddy Gernot came from Austria to hang out, and apparently it was colder in Boston "than at the top of the highest mountain in Austria. That's some cold shit! Also in town: Brewce Martin, who I don't think remembers me right away when I see him. But when he realizes I work for Thrasher, it's non-stop, incessant "Hey, tell Jake Phelps a thing or two from me!", "That dude blackballed me!" "What's up with Jake Phelps, let's call him right now!" and other assorted jibber jabber until he leaves. Rad dude though, and Dug E. Death is in between 'em.

Now back to the regularly scheduled program of chicks on CBs? Shit, why not.

Le Container still killing it.

Le Container is a daily stop for me: art, design, girls, motorcycles, cars, etc. This one gave me a chuckle today.

Broken but Unbowed

 A month ago on my birthday, I maintained the tradition of doing my age in frontside grinds. There were no pools to be had, so I made do with the pool coping on the Orchard mini ramp. Skated with Dug and two kids, and I'm not sure what they made of my frontside frenzy, but they seemed cool with it. I made my 45, with one or two extra for good measure. I dropped in to do a frontside rock on the extension my next run, something I've done a bunch of times before, and watched as my front foot slid off my nose. I slammed super hard to my right shoulder, and thought I dislocated it. Couldn't get up off the ramp for 15 or 20 minutes. The guys made me a sling, and Dug took me to the ER. They said it was a small crack in the humerus, and that I had to go see an orthopedic surgeon the next day. Percocets helped that night. Next day, orthopedic surgeon in town says I need more x-rays, so I walk uphill, about a mile, in the snow. Then walk back, to find out that it is cracked all the way through. He'll be gone when I get back from my trip, so he says go see another ortho. He takes more x-rays, gives me a script for straight oxycodone without tylenol, and sends me on my way.

The next day I fly to Phoenix. Get wheelchair assistance, as I am out of my gourd. Check in at my hotel, and since I requested a room with a tub, it overlooked the pool we skated a few years ago when they were remodeling the hotel. Meg arranged a caregiver to give me baths every two days. Humbling.

Do some record shopping and hanging out. Went to Vargas' and noticed this: cover art from the Clash's "Give 'em Enough Rope". Someone scanned it and photoshopped the background, but I posted it as the original artwork for the record on Instagram and Facebook, and got some "No ways!", etc. I'm a dick.

 Hoss sent me this gem, the jizzmobile with Santa driving.

 Taylor found this at a thrift shop for a buck. I opted out of the viewing, but I understand in generated some (deserved) chuckles.

 Dinner with some of the AZ crew, miss these folks. O'Douls allowed me to stay on the heavy medicine and have something in my hand.

 First day in Seattle, I take the bus into town. Both my dad's cars have manual transmissions, so I can't take them. First stop, Pagliacci on the Ave. Overheard the guy behind the counter telling someone they'd been open 35 years. Thought to myself I'd been going there for almost that long. Good 'za.

 Bussed it to Fremont, and dug through the crates at Jive Time. Only got a couple records. Morris came to pick me up, and we boogied to Marginal Way.

 This place is shaping up, and has come a long way. Dudes there are holding it down. Wish I could've skated, but stoked to have rolled by.

 After family time, Christmas night was spent in Al's Tavern with old friends, and the comforting familiarity of their bloody Native American whale hunt mural. years of good memories in this place -- lived down the street from it for 4 years in the early '90s.

 Homebound, and the mountain was out.

 Dug drove my truck back home -- it had been sitting at his place since the night I broke my arm. Thanks pal!

The night after I got back, the Nervous Eaters played with the Real Kids. Both bands played kinda slowed down, but it was worth it to hear "Just Head" and "Loretta"...

 ... and "All Kindsa Girls", "Bad to Worse," and others. Also found out that the Real Kids' John Felice is from the 'Dick, as is Jonathan Richman!

 Then Snowpacolypse 2014 happened, bitter cold, and 14" or so of snow. I was homebound, but got out every day for a walk. Coldest temps I have ever experienced.

The Turquoise Tortoise is holding its own. Snowed in. Can't drive it anyway, can't ride my skateboard, can't ride my bikes. Four weeks out, my arm is healing properly but it'll be another 2 weeks before I can get aggro on the physical therapy. I try to console myself that since it's so damn cold I'm missing fewer skate sessions. But that thought is outweighed by the thought that I'm missing out on the few sessions that do happen.