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newfast674 · 2 years ago

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motorcycleparts2day · 7 years ago

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olivereliott · 5 years ago

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The Divisionist: Federal Moto’s first BMW bobber

Some custom shops crank out the same style of build, over and over again. But for Federal Moto that would be terminal. Their crew is young, eager to experiment and wary of stagnation.

So when a local film production company approached Federal to build a custom bike, they picked a genre they hadn’t yet tackled. For their seventeenth project, commissioned by Divisionist Films, the Chicago workshop created their first BMW-powered bobber.

“Eight years ago we started off as a ‘cafe racer’ custom shop,” says founder Michael Muller, “and here we are now moving into the bobber genre. We want to be a diverse shop that isn’t tied to one style of moto … motorcycles are fun, who said you can’t play with all of the kinds?”

Federal started by sitting down with their client, and going through reference material to figure out what would hit the mark.

The resulting concept was a skinny monochrome bobber based on a /7 series BMW boxer. And as luck would have it, Federal had a 1978 BMW R80/7 laying around the shop and looking for a good home.

The R80 needed some love though, so Michael and Federal staffer David Pecaro started by rebuilding the 797 cc motor, five-speed transmission and Bing carbs. The work included new seals and rings, a new electronic ignition, and NGK spark plug boots and cables.

The motor was beautifully finished with a mix of ceramic paint and hand-polished touches. Federal also added custom-made velocity stacks, and custom exhausts with turned tips and a Cerakote finish.

The BMW’s running gear didn’t go neglected either. Federal grabbed the forks and six-piston Tokico calipers from a 2008 Suzuki Hayabusa, and hooked them up to an upper triple tree and steering stem from Cognito Moto.

A new set of 18” rims was laced up with stainless steel spokes from Buchanan’s, using a Cognito Moto hub up front, and they’re wrapped in Dunlop K180 tires. Federal also had the forks anodized black, and the rims powder coated.

Out back, the crew built a minimal subframe, with support for the solo seat and revised shock mounts. A new pair of 15” shocks now holds up the rear end. There are hand-rolled fenders at both ends too, attached to custom-made brackets.

For the fuel tank, Federal sourced a 1977 Husky 125 item—but it was pretty banged up and rusted. They tidied it, fabricated a new tunnel to match the BMW’s frame, and welded in a new cap tunnel and petcock bungs. The gas cap is a custom knurled aluminum part. Chris Paluch designed the subtle fuel tank graphics, which NSD Paintwerks then executed.

Right behind the tiny tank is a scant little bobber seat, upholstered by Dane Utech, a Chicago local, using suede and leather from Relicate Leather. Dane covered the ‘passenger’ pad too and did a stellar job—but you’d need to be brave (and petite) to take a ride on the back of this bobber.

One of Federal’s biggest challenges was the boxer’s stock Bosch ignition coils (they’re big, and usually sit under the tank). So the guys sourced a dual pole Dyna coil, and mounted it under the starter cover. They also rewired the bike around a Motogadget m.unit blue Bluetooth-enabled controller, stashing it away under the tank.

The bulky battery was replaced with an Antigravity Lithium-ion battery, which sits in a custom-made box just in front of the rear wheel. It’s been designed so that its back edge traces the radius of the rear wheel; a neat little touch.

In the cockpit, Federal fitted 7/8” Biltwell ‘Tracker’ bars, and a speedo, push buttons and bar-end turn signals from Motogadget.

It’s also sporting new levers, a set of OEM BMW cables, and Goodridge brake lines. A 5.75” lamp lights the way out front, and a small LED taillight is mounted to the swingarm.

Lean and purposeful, Federal Moto’s first foray into bobbers is a total knockout. If this is what it takes to stave off complacency and boredom, count us in.

Federal Moto | Facebook | Instagram | images by Daniel Peter

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countingdesaparecidos · 7 years ago

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Scene 1

[rough, first iteration... not a complete work...]

4 JULY :: 2130

At six-foot-seven, the broad-shouldered Mestizo instinctively ducked to clear the garage doorframe. On the other side, boxing gloves thudded against swaying heavy bags; competitors threw each other onto worn padded mats using well-practiced techniques. The mats' resounding smack preceded transitions through grappling and wrestling drills, scrambling for top position, chokes and joint locks.

"Sinclaire." Arms heavily tattooed with Native tribal designs spread wide to greet the visitor whose black leather jacket hid similar body art. "Where you been, brother? Word is a couple of detectives ID'd you on a test drive before experts at Chuy's Speed Shop could clean up your new ride."

Surrounded by walls of posters and plaques, the two exchanged an Area-323 racers' handshake. Every horizontal surface of the room was strewn with spare parts, tools and vintage auto memorabilia. "You heard right, Chuy. A certain charitable organization posted my bail. Unless I win tonight, they'll pledge one of my kidneys to an impatient rich kid in North Korea. I don't even get to choose which one."

"The kid or the kidney?" "Neither."

They laughed and stepped back into boxing stance. "Lo siento pero we all got bills to pay, homie. Nothing free in this world."

Chuy threw a light body shot to the mid-lower back, blocked by Sinclaire's elbow in a crouching sidestep followed by quick left jabs. At six-foot one, Sinclaire was smaller, but also more agile; the two evenly matched skill for skill in a round of spontaneous sparring.

---

Sinclaire turned and jogged across the garage, weaving between biodiesel injection tanks stood along the floor and partially disassembled engines slung from chains attached to the ceiling. Chuy followed the improvised path to a hydraulic lift at the garage's far side, lit by overhead LED lamps and covered in a beige drop cloth.

The lift descended to floor-level; headlights beamed forward as Sinclaire pulled the drop cloth with a toreador's flourish. The vehicle rose four inches from the floor, hovering with a quiet hum of electromagnetic superconduction.

"Karma HOV6. Electrodynamic suspension, Hayabusa electric-linear quad motors, Versa integrated lift system." Chuy squatted to assess the electromagnets' balance on the car's four corners. "Trying to be the black James Dean tonight?"

Sinclaire daubed grease-stained hands with the clean spot on a rag streaked by motor oil and engine assembly grease. "Best I could find on such short notice, Chu. As long as it makes my daily bread tonight... and Dean got t-boned by a station wagon on the freeway. Not in a street race."

---

High-heeled lace-up boots stepped gingerly down from the hovercar, accompanied by neo-perreo basslines that ceased with a cellphone screen-tap. "Suprise! Hola, Chucho!"

Chuy stood. "Que onda, Leni?" "Asi asi, como siempre." The heels clicked in dance-walk rhythm and the two embraced. "Isn't this a beautiful ride? I helped Mark boost it. Love these colors..."

Valentina ran fingertips along the freshly washed and waxed hood. Silver nanoparticles evinced a fish-scale shimmer as swirling pools of blue, gold and purple responded to the overhead light; in deepest shadow, the painted surface seemed to disappear.

Sinclaire headed to the workstation console a few metres away. "Valentina's a natural. Nobody can resist her." "I'm the best diversion ever made. You're luckier than you know, baby." Valentina joined Sinclaire to retrieve a telematics dongle from the workstation desktop as Chuy moved to the driver's side of the car, sliding in behind the wheel.

"The takeover's in an hour. You need more than a pretty paint job if you want to win tonight." Chuy plugged the dongle into the car's OBD-VII dataport below the steering wheel.

On the workstation's screen, an AltSocial private social media page contained only one post created earlier in the day: "@Yungsta213: Meet on Tuesday night. PM for location." The inbox showed sixty-three unread private messages. Sinclaire clicked a black-cat silhouette taskbar icon to raise the Freematics Hub server software window, then entered the car's newly updated password. They switched places, Sinclaire behind the wheel and Chuy standing at the workstation.

---

Chuy read the telematics configuration data onscreen. "Induction response on the rear left generator is a few milliseconds off. No surprise the HOV6 is hard to steer at high speeds."

Sinclaire resumed diagnostic checks and calibrations using a laptop connected directly to electric steering, battery array and power output management interfaces. "I've been thinking, Chu: our first-generation HVs drove through Pyongyang to circumvent landmines. You have any idea how hovercars became a thing for civilians with the stability profile of a helicopter in a typhoon?"

"Same reason people used to eat pig flesh and chopped-up cow, but acted like dog meat was some kind of barbarism: marketing."

Early fireworks went off outisde, not far from the garage. "Like Americans on July fourth, blowing up explosives as if world war is a soldier's holiday. Propaganda."

An M-80 explosion rattled the windows in the garage's upper floor; Chuy opened a phone app to check the surveillance cameras.

"Better to hear engines all night than see memories of squadmates on foot patrol split in half by IEDs, dead or dying one by one from enemy sniper fire..." Eyes closed, Sinclaire listened to the report of fireworks popping, crackling and booming.

Valentina kissed Sinclaire on the cheek. "Come back..."

Sinclaire's eyes opened, looking straight at the screen, checking the rear airbrakes on the HOV6.

Valentina stood from the car, walked over and sat on an old leather couch nearby, rearranging the phone's playlist. Soon the thumping basslines of neo-perreo became the background atmosphere, partially obscuring the sound of the fireworks.

---

Chuy frowned at the telematics simulation. "Slick ground at the takeover spot tonight. Oil and rain in the conduction grooves could give some loose brake readings, especially in a HOV6."

Sinclaire flipped the Maglev|Air switch. The electromagnetic hum became a whoosh of ten high-RPM electric propellers engaged along the car's undercarriage. Billows of dust and metal shavings swept into the air as the HOV6 wobbled slightly, re-centering its gravitational balance. Dashboard gauges oscillated wildly, then settled into neutral. "Manual stabilization. Vector, acceleration, altitude. Nothing I can't handle."

The switch flipped to "Off" and all fans went silent. The car snapped back to magnetic equilibrium in alignment with the etched ferroconcrete below. Fish-scale nanopaint glimmered an oceanic tide along the car's carbon-fibre panels amidst the workshop's dusty grit.

---

Chuy's voice echoed over the music. "You're ex-mil, though. Mechanical skills, too. Why not use the G.I. bill and go live the straight life -- engineering, university degrees and all that?"

"G.I. bill? I'll be lucky if I don't get merc'ed out here, Chuy. Army brass and I didn't exactly part on speaking terms." Valentina sat on the passenger's side, playing with a pair of pink fuzzy dice dangling from the rearview camera screen as Sinclair revved the engine. "Guys from my unit opened domestic security and enforcement firms, operations you don't hear about on the news; same homicidal maniacs running renditions and black ops across Africa and Southeast Asia. Nowadays there's just as much profit at home as overseas. Even Commerce City SWAT team is privatised."

Valentina gently squeezed pressure-sensitive hair filaments between thumb and forefinger, cosmetic gene modulation gradually changing diffraction gratings at the root of every strand. Decora fingernails raked through thick curly hair, hues spiraling from black to fire-engine red and settling on hot pink that matched the dice. The update was complete with a tousle of eye-level bangs under critical appraisal befitting a professional hairdresser. "Chuy, I've been telling Mark we should escape to Canada, but he won't listen. One of my girlfriends does passports, papers and everything."

Sinclaire involuntarily glanced up to the garage's windows a split-second after blinding flashes of light erupted into phoshporous-white sprinkles that drizzled down to Earth. "Try to cross the border with the wrong name, sexuality, gender or political orientation and get shipped out to indefinite detention in a corporate-run lockup."

Chuy nodded. "No due process. Desaparecido."

---

"Diablo... here we go again..." Valentina pressed the Sunroof button on the car's centre console and the fibreglass ceiling panel began to retract.

Chuy glanced at the security camera feeds on the cellphone app. "Those chinga puta madre ICE agents got half our families deported, remember, Leni? Now it's not just Chicanos -- Jewish, Polish, gays, refugees -- even Irish and Italian immigrants fresh off the boat."

Valentina unlaced and kicked off the high heels, then stood on the passenger's seat, popping up through the open sunroof. "Dear pastor Chuy." Valentina counted on the fingers of one hand. "Mark is half-Sicilian, my grandfather is German, and I'm darker than both of you. My stepdad was Muslim, and so am I." Valentina fanned out the five fingers toward Chuy. "Is that not political enough for you? Is the target on our backs not big enough? So can we skip the sermon for once?"

Chuy’s fury quickly deflated to voluble grumbling. "Guess who gets stopped four times more than any 'pure' white boy in Southern California...."

Sinclaire leaned out of the open driver-side door. "Hate to break it to you, but -- we steal cars for a living, Chu. You run a speed shop and unlicensed fight club for street kids like us. But there is a slim chance if you change the name to Latter-Day Church of Saint Chucho Santana, you might get a decent tax deduction. You should think about it."

Sinclaire and Valentina laughed; Chuy couldn't help but crack a smile. "Chingada," Chuy groused, immersed in the telematics readings while stretching out a stiff right shoulder. "Nice hair, Leni."

Valentina grinned. "Si, claro. It's good luck for tonight. Now we can't lose!"

---

4 JULY :: 2145

Valentina's idle hands traced a faint scar at the side of Sinclaire's closely shaved head. "Laying low is my only option, Val, at least for the next few years. This place is a prison without walls. Some people just choose not to face it." Sinclaire set the laptop to Sleep mode and closed the lid.

Valentina slipped arm-in-arm, cheek pressed against Sinclaire's shoulder. "So if you're wanted by mercs, known to ICE agents, and the outlaw scene is all you've got, you must really be as bad as they say, huh, baby? Guilty until proven innocent..."

Valentina stroked Sinclaire's chest, outlining three dog tags strung along a necklace of miniature ballbearings resting beneath a tight black t-shirt.

"Watch out, chica." Sinclaire growled, nose buried into the side of Valentina's neck, teeth gnashing and taking a playful nip of the soft perfumed skin. Pretending to scream, Valentina melted into giggles. "Maybe one day I'll tell you the whole story. Tonight is about winning this race."

Valentina's eyes shut tight as Sinclaire revved the engine near maximum, testing the power output. "I can feel it..." Valentina wirelessly re-coupled the phone to the car sound system, turning up the music to party volume while Chuy and Sinclaire completed last-minute adjustments on the HOV6.

The rolling thunder and lightning of Fourth of July fireworks sparkled and boomed outside.

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usamotorscycle-blog · 8 years ago

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Church Of MO – 2004 XB12S: Cheddarheads Strike Again

Whenever he gets a chance, John Burns likes to ramble on about how much he likes Buellmotorcycles. The old ones, the new ones, it doesn’t matter. He’s a fan of Erik Buell’s vision and its execution. Case in point? JB’s review below of the 2004 Buell XB12S. A self-proclaimed lover of the XB9S, riding a bigger, better version of the XB-S around Road America left a big smile on his face. Hell, he still speaks fondly of it today. Check out what he has to say about it below, and for more pictures of the bike be sure to click on the photo gallery. 2004 XB12S: Cheddarheads Strike Again By John Burns Apr. 20, 2004 Like S. Langhorne Clemens, who came in with Halley’s Comet and went out with it, I, JB, had my first racetrack ride on a Buell (RR1000, circa 1990) and maybe my last on one the other day at Road America up in the Great White North upon the new XB12–both R and S versions. I may be hanging up the spurs, kids. I’m 43 and no longer on the Up escalator of the ol’ learning curve. I’ve always been a danger to myself, of course, but on Road America’s tight little “Motorplex” track, which is like a paved version of the 80cc track at Lake Elsinore MX Park and where we rode the S version of the bike, I also took out the correspondent for the Canadian version of “USA Today” (that’s got to be some excellent bedtime reading).

Johnnyb @Elkhart Lake, demonstrating the distinctive Burnsian style of lawn mowing. That’s right, just as I was thinking to myself, damn these Buells turn good on the brakes… I locked up the front and took the guy out like a bowling ball heading into a tight little right. I also took a handlebar in the chest, and for the first couple of weeks afterward it hurt almost too much to smoke. Hence, I was all set to announce my retirement when the phone rang just now: Erik Buell calling to tell me don’t feel so bad, Johnny, our timers said you were going faster than Don Canet at the time… This is of course, complete and utter crap and I bet Tripp (Tree’-up) Nobles put him up to it–and yet I shall grasp at this straw and believe it forever.

A nice new longer stroke takes the XB to 1203cc. Check the fatter exhaust headers… It could be true, if DC was testing low-rev carburetion during one of those laps where I cut the course. In any case, I’ll take it and in a few years will no doubt even believe it. It’ll be excellent when Canet and me are in the retirement home. As you may have noted in these pages, I was already probably the biggest fan in all of motojournalism re: the XB9S (and to a lesser degree the clip-on equipped R model). Mainly what’s going on with the new XB12 is stroking that loveable old lump of an air-cooled twin from 3.125 inches to 3.812 (leaving bores at 3.5 inches), thereby increasing displacement to 1203cc. A set of stronger new knife-and-fork connecting rods carry tough new pistons through those elongated strokes. A new larger-bore (49mm) intake tract with a pair of revised injectors stoke the intenal combustion proceedings, while 1.75-inch exhaust pipes replace the 1.5-inchers of before and expire into a new muffler with an electronically controlled valve like the ones on Japanese literbikes. The end result of all that, Buell says, is 24 percent more torque than the XB9 in a flatter curve, and 103 crankshaft horsepower. It’s kind of like the difference, Erik Buell grins, between a big-block Corvette and a small-block. American engineering.

If you see a thing like this getting bigger in your mirrors instead of smaller, it’s a good idea to stop for gas or something… Apart from that, the XB12’s (and the XB9’s as well) get a few detail improvements but nothing particularly major (save the $1K bump in price to $10,995). If you’re wide you’ll appreciate mirrors on two-inch longer stalks. There’s a tougher new final-drive belt, a longer peg on the shifter, lower passenger pegs… er, I think that’s it. Aesthetically, the 12’s sport very cool “translucent amber” wheels which sort of glow in the dark compared to conventional gold anodized ones, and to an easily amused by shiny objects person like myself, the effect against the dark gray fuel-in frame is very nice–particularly set against my favorite thing about these bikes, which is that they are tiny.

Well it’s certainly no SV650 or VFR Honda, but there is a certain appeal. I could be biased, maybe I’m just overtaken by a wave of patriotism or nostalgia or something. My wife is from Wisconsin, but I like the place and the people there anyway. New bikes normally get introduced around January / February, which generally means press introes have to happen in Mediterranean or southern hemisphere climes, and I’m not complaining but the whole thing always winds up feeling a bit alien and jet-lagged. Buell does things differently, and so it’s the exceedingly lovely, green Road America in mid-June–right down the road from the East Troy Buell digs–and never mind that one of the fastest road circuits in North America might be the last place you’d want to showcase anything powered by what’s basically a Harley-Davidson Sportster motor.

Here, the XB12R goes around a corner. After all the highly regimented Japanese-bike launches I’ve been on, this one was like a family picnic, with Paul James the Buell PR guy showing un-PR-guy speed on the track, and Erik would’ve been out there too if not for a ruptured disc in his back which did not keep him from giggling like a big kid the whole time anyway. Even if the new XB doesn’t have the very latest in motive power, the very advanced things it does have in its favor mean it’s still an absolute blast to ride around the track, and 140 mph on the clock into Canada Corner, at the end of the long, tree-lined backstraight doesn’t seem particularly slow to me in my advanced state of decay. Like the XB9 but 24 percent moreso, the XB12 is sort of sneaky fast: The red zone on the tach is set at 7000 instead of 7500 rpm, and so there aren’t really any aural clues to back up the visual ones of the scenery hurrying past. Whatever. The slightly heavier yet still short-wheelbased, quick-turning little mass-compacted Buell is still one of my favorite bikes to flog whatever the venue. Dunlop D207 tires are passé at this point, even déclassé–and yet when I looked to see what kind of sticky tires we were riding on after a couple of sessions, there they were (special versions for Buell). It’s just such an excellently balanced little machine. (Buell says suspension for XB9 and XB12 is identical.) And just like the XB9, the thing is completely unruffled by bumps, and completely stable come hell or high water–amazingly so for a bike with a 52-inch wheelbase, 21-degree rake and 83mm trail. Must be some sort of highly advanced engineering going on here…

Here the XB9S, with actual handlebar and lower footpegs, goes around a corner. Through Road America’s big fast Carousel, the XB could carry as much speed as you could drum up on the way in, feeding in more throttle all the way around and not sliding so much as gravitating outside by the time you get to the exit. There toward the end of the day I was dragging the right footpeg feeler quite a bit–the only thing on the Buell you can drag without crashing on street tires, I think, and only when your knee puck is molten. I was thinking more aggressive brake pads might be a good thing right up until I locked the front in my aforementioned “accident” over at the kiddie track. Shifting is still the Buell Achilles Heel, and I have to say it seems a little worse on the heavier-crankshafted 1200. I mean, the bikes do shift, but with more effort than a Ducati or Japanese bike. Our XB9S got better with a few thousand miles on the odometer, and I also know you won’t be shifting the big 1200 nearly as much on the street as you do on the track, especially on a long, fast one like Road America when you’re trying to catch somebody… it’s all fine until you start trying to squeeze that last little bit of time out of the tube; if you’re not paying attention (and using the clutch a little bit), it’s easy to get hung up between second and third. I hate to say it, but you get used to the way the things shift, really, and the bikes have so many redeeming features… Page 2 By Johnny B Struggling for acceptance, getting it, having it yanked back from time to time… I think I learned more about people, and how things really work, in my year here at MO than in all the other years at other occupations. It was very interesting to go from a big print magazine to MO, with its somewhat checkered past and slightly irreverent editorial policy. When the shiznit hits the rotary oscillator, you find out who your friends are, and I like to think I’ve learned to recognize the signs for future reference. Look out for people, for example, who have tremendous respect for you. Be wary of those who are doing things to you for your own good, who’d like to help you but whose hands are tied.

And on a personal note… Trust people whose actions show respect, and those who actually do things to help you. “No Time for Sergeants” and Catch 22, it turns out, were not farces. If you are starting out in a professional career, study them carefully. When you rock your canoe, it sends ripples out across the lake, ripples that rock other peoples’ canoes. My favorite people in this business are the boat-rockers, all of whom are destined mostly to remain upon the lower rungs. Sad? Maybe not. I’ve had more fun over the years with those people than I ever dreamed possible–riding Hayabusas at Catalunya, R1’s at Valencia (and Catalunya too, come to think), Mille R’s at Homestead, pursuing lactating Croatian strippers in Rimini, hurling BMW’s into rushing mountain streams.

Burns’ Anthology I must’ve been on a couple hundred bike launches and extended jaunts while the Adults were stuck politicking in smoky backrooms, doing whatever they do to preserve the fiefdom. The internet is a revolutionary medium, period. As a low-tech sort of points and carburetors guy myself, it continues to amaze me how many people don’t believe it. Want to see your own work in print? Hell’s bells man, write it up, click on News, then Post Article — and you can be a published author the next day on MO, there to be instantly pilloried and underpaid just like a real magazine writer. Speaking of which, do you think for a minute that the run-of-the-mill motorcycle magazine writer has got anything on the Aerodynamic Head? On The Highwayman? Two words: Reader Feedback. Who wouldn’t pay $11.94 to watch Boehm and Kpaul square off in a battle of wits? Oh well, story of my life, really–big ideas, no execution. I know MO and a hot mug o’ Starbucks will be right there beside me in my new cubicle. I hope to continue to do some Cycle World stuff too. A man’s got to know his limitations, and maybe I am a better writer than I am an Editor. All I want is a slice of motorcycle now and then, not the whole damn pie. Say, what sort of retirement speech is this turning into anyway? I’m not sure if I’m retiring or not, really… but in case I am all I want to express is a huge and humble Thank You to all of you who caused my head to swell over the years by liking my “work” and taking the time to say so. Words can’t express how cool it’s been for a law school dropout seriously considering the US Postal Service to have backed into such a fantastic line of work, Phil Schilling you old dog. So, ah, wish me luck in the ad bizness. I may be back with my tail between my legs in a month or two. Thanks to the internet and MO, when I say I’ll be in touch I mean it. Go back to your homes, and if you make as good citizens as you have Morons, you’ll all do fine. —

Here is some guy named Craig Jones. He does reasonably proficient wheelies and things of that crazy nature.

Right, old-fashioned. Uh-huh, underpowered, whatever. This is a helluva fun motorcycle engine, and American too.

This wheel tire/assembly, complete with Buell’s Zero Torsional Load brake, is really really light. Simplify… Anyway, does Buell still market these as “Streetfighters” or what? In the typical Californian canyon, I’d wager, the XB12 should be just as excellent a tool and even better than the XB9–particularly the S model. (Personally, I can’t think of a reason to buy the R over it.) Right, it only revs to 7000 rpm, but there’s probably just as much torque at around 3000 rpm. In the new kink they built following the Carousel at RA, I can’t think of a bike that would be easier to turn in, flick back to the right instantly, and whack the gas back on hard, with less fear of disaster. The whole Buell just sort of rotates within its own axis–it’s that Buell Trilogy thing in action, low yaw and pitch and all that, achieved by keeping things at the ends exceedingly light–and the low-revving beast just goes Bwaaaa… and spins the tire a little without SPINNING the tire, and off you go down the back straight. At the end of the day, the Buell might not be the fastest way around the track if you’re an advanced rider, and the more advanced you are the bigger the gap would grow… but the big But is that if you’re not Mat Mladin or somebody, and have no real ambition of being him, the Buell is just easy to ride and hugely forgiving. Okay, forgiving up to a certain point of stupid, which I managed to exceed. But on the street, where there aren’t any high-speed straights–the tighter the road, the more fits this XB12 will give bigger more powerful bikes. Reliability-wise, I refuse to go there with you people again.

Craig says to keep your weight over the front when you’re burning up rear tires. The quality of these new Buells, beginning with the Blast, is apparently greatly improved. I have noted, maybe along with you, that scattered among the Buell “Reader Feedbacks” which slam Buell reliability every time the topic comes up, is a near-complete, yawning dearth of complaints from people who actually own new ones. At the end of the day it’s just refreshing, after a brat and some beers, to stroll from the lovely Osthoff Resort on the lake to downtown Elkhart Lake and pound some more beers with the ex-college football player types like Tim Osterberg and Dan Grein who built the thing, and who now have excellent raccoon eyes from being in the sun all day in fashion eyewear. Who knew those guys had brains too?

7000 rpm is good for a big-block Corvette. “It’s all about the low-rpm and the midrange, and in those departments it’ll be tough to top a 1203 Buell…” Abe Askenazi’s of Syrian descent by way of Mexico, but assimilating nicely and, in fact, breeding in the Wisconsin wild. More cheese curds anybody? I remember dancing, even, with a third-grade teacher in a tube top, and after that it all became a blur. In today’s corporate climate, the whole Buell attitude is hugely refreshing, and in fact it’s that David v. Goliath attitude that made the XB possible. Nobody told Buell they couldn’t build this bike. If Honda had tried to build an XB9/12, it would’ve wound up being a Pacific Coast with fuel and oil stored in an outrigger or something equally watered-down. And the fact that Buell does it with such an anachronistic engine makes it, to me, that much more interesting, and that much more an accomplishment. No doubt there’s a liquid-cooled Buell down the road, who knows when? In the meantime, I’m not getting any younger, I’ve got no time to wait–and anyway I like the air-cooled Ducati Monsters better than the quattrovalvole ones. Here in the world, it’s all about the low-rpm and the midrange, and in those departments it’ll be tough to top a 1203 Buell with a few choice aftermarket pieces, of which there are about a million. For those who say an air-cooled engine can’t pass emissions, Buell points out this one comes in “substantially below 2004 CARB/Euro II limits without secondary air injection or catalyst.” If I picked a Motorcycle of the Year for the Actual World, I have to tell you I think this one would be it. On the other hand, now’s the time to get a smokin’ deal on an XB9S… Click to Post

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totallymotorbikes · 8 years ago

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Church Of MO 2004 XB12S: Cheddarheads Strike Again Whenever he gets a chance, John Burns likes to ramble on about how much he likes Buell motorcycles. The old ones, the new ones, it doesn’t matter. He’s a fan of Erik Buell’s vision and its execution. Case in point? JB’s review below of the 2004 Buell XB12S. A self-proclaimed lover of the XB9S, riding a bigger, better version of the XB-S around Road America left a big smile on his face. Hell, he still speaks fondly of it today. Check out what he has to say about it below, and for more pictures of the bike be sure to click on the photo gallery. 2004 XB12S: Cheddarheads Strike Again By John Burns Apr. 20, 2004 Like S. Langhorne Clemens, who came in with Halley’s Comet and went out with it, I, JB, had my first racetrack ride on a Buell (RR1000, circa 1990) and maybe my last on one the other day at Road America up in the Great White North upon the new XB12–both R and S versions. I may be hanging up the spurs, kids. I’m 43 and no longer on the Up escalator of the ol’ learning curve. I’ve always been a danger to myself, of course, but on Road America’s tight little “Motorplex” track, which is like a paved version of the 80cc track at Lake Elsinore MX Park and where we rode the S version of the bike, I also took out the correspondent for the Canadian version of “USA Today” (that’s got to be some excellent bedtime reading). Johnnyb @Elkhart Lake, demonstrating the distinctive Burnsian style of lawn mowing. That’s right, just as I was thinking to myself, damn these Buells turn good on the brakes… I locked up the front and took the guy out like a bowling ball heading into a tight little right. I also took a handlebar in the chest, and for the first couple of weeks afterward it hurt almost too much to smoke. Hence, I was all set to announce my retirement when the phone rang just now: Erik Buell calling to tell me don’t feel so bad, Johnny, our timers said you were going faster than Don Canet at the time… This is of course, complete and utter crap and I bet Tripp (Tree’-up) Nobles put him up to it–and yet I shall grasp at this straw and believe it forever. A nice new longer stroke takes the XB to 1203cc. Check the fatter exhaust headers… It could be true, if DC was testing low-rev carburetion during one of those laps where I cut the course. In any case, I’ll take it and in a few years will no doubt even believe it. It’ll be excellent when Canet and me are in the retirement home. As you may have noted in these pages, I was already probably the biggest fan in all of motojournalism re: the XB9S (and to a lesser degree the clip-on equipped R model). Mainly what’s going on with the new XB12 is stroking that loveable old lump of an air-cooled twin from 3.125 inches to 3.812 (leaving bores at 3.5 inches), thereby increasing displacement to 1203cc. A set of stronger new knife-and-fork connecting rods carry tough new pistons through those elongated strokes. A new larger-bore (49mm) intake tract with a pair of revised injectors stoke the intenal combustion proceedings, while 1.75-inch exhaust pipes replace the 1.5-inchers of before and expire into a new muffler with an electronically controlled valve like the ones on Japanese literbikes. The end result of all that, Buell says, is 24 percent more torque than the XB9 in a flatter curve, and 103 crankshaft horsepower. It’s kind of like the difference, Erik Buell grins, between a big-block Corvette and a small-block. American engineering. If you see a thing like this getting bigger in your mirrors instead of smaller, it’s a good idea to stop for gas or something… Apart from that, the XB12’s (and the XB9’s as well) get a few detail improvements but nothing particularly major (save the $1K bump in price to $10,995). If you’re wide you’ll appreciate mirrors on two-inch longer stalks. There’s a tougher new final-drive belt, a longer peg on the shifter, lower passenger pegs… er, I think that’s it. Aesthetically, the 12’s sport very cool “translucent amber” wheels which sort of glow in the dark compared to conventional gold anodized ones, and to an easily amused by shiny objects person like myself, the effect against the dark gray fuel-in frame is very nice–particularly set against my favorite thing about these bikes, which is that they are tiny. Well it’s certainly no SV650 or VFR Honda, but there is a certain appeal. I could be biased, maybe I’m just overtaken by a wave of patriotism or nostalgia or something. My wife is from Wisconsin, but I like the place and the people there anyway. New bikes normally get introduced around January / February, which generally means press introes have to happen in Mediterranean or southern hemisphere climes, and I’m not complaining but the whole thing always winds up feeling a bit alien and jet-lagged. Buell does things differently, and so it’s the exceedingly lovely, green Road America in mid-June–right down the road from the East Troy Buell digs–and never mind that one of the fastest road circuits in North America might be the last place you’d want to showcase anything powered by what’s basically a Harley-Davidson Sportster motor. Here, the XB12R goes around a corner. After all the highly regimented Japanese-bike launches I’ve been on, this one was like a family picnic, with Paul James the Buell PR guy showing un-PR-guy speed on the track, and Erik would’ve been out there too if not for a ruptured disc in his back which did not keep him from giggling like a big kid the whole time anyway. Even if the new XB doesn’t have the very latest in motive power, the very advanced things it does have in its favor mean it’s still an absolute blast to ride around the track, and 140 mph on the clock into Canada Corner, at the end of the long, tree-lined backstraight doesn’t seem particularly slow to me in my advanced state of decay. Like the XB9 but 24 percent moreso, the XB12 is sort of sneaky fast: The red zone on the tach is set at 7000 instead of 7500 rpm, and so there aren’t really any aural clues to back up the visual ones of the scenery hurrying past. Whatever. The slightly heavier yet still short-wheelbased, quick-turning little mass-compacted Buell is still one of my favorite bikes to flog whatever the venue. Dunlop D207 tires are passé at this point, even déclassé–and yet when I looked to see what kind of sticky tires we were riding on after a couple of sessions, there they were (special versions for Buell). It’s just such an excellently balanced little machine. (Buell says suspension for XB9 and XB12 is identical.) And just like the XB9, the thing is completely unruffled by bumps, and completely stable come hell or high water–amazingly so for a bike with a 52-inch wheelbase, 21-degree rake and 83mm trail. Must be some sort of highly advanced engineering going on here… Here the XB9S, with actual handlebar and lower footpegs, goes around a corner. Through Road America’s big fast Carousel, the XB could carry as much speed as you could drum up on the way in, feeding in more throttle all the way around and not sliding so much as gravitating outside by the time you get to the exit. There toward the end of the day I was dragging the right footpeg feeler quite a bit–the only thing on the Buell you can drag without crashing on street tires, I think, and only when your knee puck is molten. I was thinking more aggressive brake pads might be a good thing right up until I locked the front in my aforementioned “accident” over at the kiddie track. Shifting is still the Buell Achilles Heel, and I have to say it seems a little worse on the heavier-crankshafted 1200. I mean, the bikes do shift, but with more effort than a Ducati or Japanese bike. Our XB9S got better with a few thousand miles on the odometer, and I also know you won’t be shifting the big 1200 nearly as much on the street as you do on the track, especially on a long, fast one like Road America when you’re trying to catch somebody… it’s all fine until you start trying to squeeze that last little bit of time out of the tube; if you’re not paying attention (and using the clutch a little bit), it’s easy to get hung up between second and third. I hate to say it, but you get used to the way the things shift, really, and the bikes have so many redeeming features… Page 2 By Johnny B Struggling for acceptance, getting it, having it yanked back from time to time… I think I learned more about people, and how things really work, in my year here at MO than in all the other years at other occupations. It was very interesting to go from a big print magazine to MO, with its somewhat checkered past and slightly irreverent editorial policy. When the shiznit hits the rotary oscillator, you find out who your friends are, and I like to think I’ve learned to recognize the signs for future reference. Look out for people, for example, who have tremendous respect for you. Be wary of those who are doing things to you for your own good, who’d like to help you but whose hands are tied. And on a personal note… Trust people whose actions show respect, and those who actually do things to help you. “No Time for Sergeants” and Catch 22, it turns out, were not farces. If you are starting out in a professional career, study them carefully. When you rock your canoe, it sends ripples out across the lake, ripples that rock other peoples’ canoes. My favorite people in this business are the boat-rockers, all of whom are destined mostly to remain upon the lower rungs. Sad? Maybe not. I’ve had more fun over the years with those people than I ever dreamed possible–riding Hayabusas at Catalunya, R1’s at Valencia (and Catalunya too, come to think), Mille R’s at Homestead, pursuing lactating Croatian strippers in Rimini, hurling BMW’s into rushing mountain streams. Burns’ Anthology I must’ve been on a couple hundred bike launches and extended jaunts while the Adults were stuck politicking in smoky backrooms, doing whatever they do to preserve the fiefdom. The internet is a revolutionary medium, period. As a low-tech sort of points and carburetors guy myself, it continues to amaze me how many people don’t believe it. Want to see your own work in print? Hell’s bells man, write it up, click on News, then Post Article — and you can be a published author the next day on MO, there to be instantly pilloried and underpaid just like a real magazine writer. Speaking of which, do you think for a minute that the run-of-the-mill motorcycle magazine writer has got anything on the Aerodynamic Head? On The Highwayman? Two words: Reader Feedback. Who wouldn’t pay $11.94 to watch Boehm and Kpaul square off in a battle of wits? Oh well, story of my life, really–big ideas, no execution. I know MO and a hot mug o’ Starbucks will be right there beside me in my new cubicle. I hope to continue to do some Cycle World stuff too. A man’s got to know his limitations, and maybe I am a better writer than I am an Editor. All I want is a slice of motorcycle now and then, not the whole damn pie. Say, what sort of retirement speech is this turning into anyway? I’m not sure if I’m retiring or not, really… but in case I am all I want to express is a huge and humble Thank You to all of you who caused my head to swell over the years by liking my “work” and taking the time to say so. Words can’t express how cool it’s been for a law school dropout seriously considering the US Postal Service to have backed into such a fantastic line of work, Phil Schilling you old dog. So, ah, wish me luck in the ad bizness. I may be back with my tail between my legs in a month or two. Thanks to the internet and MO, when I say I’ll be in touch I mean it. Go back to your homes, and if you make as good citizens as you have Morons, you’ll all do fine. — Here is some guy named Craig Jones. He does reasonably proficient wheelies and things of that crazy nature. Right, old-fashioned. Uh-huh, underpowered, whatever. This is a helluva fun motorcycle engine, and American too. This wheel tire/assembly, complete with Buell’s Zero Torsional Load brake, is really really light. Simplify… Anyway, does Buell still market these as “Streetfighters” or what? In the typical Californian canyon, I’d wager, the XB12 should be just as excellent a tool and even better than the XB9–particularly the S model. (Personally, I can’t think of a reason to buy the R over it.) Right, it only revs to 7000 rpm, but there’s probably just as much torque at around 3000 rpm. In the new kink they built following the Carousel at RA, I can’t think of a bike that would be easier to turn in, flick back to the right instantly, and whack the gas back on hard, with less fear of disaster. The whole Buell just sort of rotates within its own axis–it’s that Buell Trilogy thing in action, low yaw and pitch and all that, achieved by keeping things at the ends exceedingly light–and the low-revving beast just goes Bwaaaa… and spins the tire a little without SPINNING the tire, and off you go down the back straight. At the end of the day, the Buell might not be the fastest way around the track if you’re an advanced rider, and the more advanced you are the bigger the gap would grow… but the big But is that if you’re not Mat Mladin or somebody, and have no real ambition of being him, the Buell is just easy to ride and hugely forgiving. Okay, forgiving up to a certain point of stupid, which I managed to exceed. But on the street, where there aren’t any high-speed straights–the tighter the road, the more fits this XB12 will give bigger more powerful bikes. Reliability-wise, I refuse to go there with you people again. Craig says to keep your weight over the front when you’re burning up rear tires. The quality of these new Buells, beginning with the Blast, is apparently greatly improved. I have noted, maybe along with you, that scattered among the Buell “Reader Feedbacks” which slam Buell reliability every time the topic comes up, is a near-complete, yawning dearth of complaints from people who actually own new ones. At the end of the day it’s just refreshing, after a brat and some beers, to stroll from the lovely Osthoff Resort on the lake to downtown Elkhart Lake and pound some more beers with the ex-college football player types like Tim Osterberg and Dan Grein who built the thing, and who now have excellent raccoon eyes from being in the sun all day in fashion eyewear. Who knew those guys had brains too? 7000 rpm is good for a big-block Corvette. “It’s all about the low-rpm and the midrange, and in those departments it’ll be tough to top a 1203 Buell…” Abe Askenazi’s of Syrian descent by way of Mexico, but assimilating nicely and, in fact, breeding in the Wisconsin wild. More cheese curds anybody? I remember dancing, even, with a third-grade teacher in a tube top, and after that it all became a blur. In today’s corporate climate, the whole Buell attitude is hugely refreshing, and in fact it’s that David v. Goliath attitude that made the XB possible. Nobody told Buell they couldn’t build this bike. If Honda had tried to build an XB9/12, it would’ve wound up being a Pacific Coast with fuel and oil stored in an outrigger or something equally watered-down. And the fact that Buell does it with such an anachronistic engine makes it, to me, that much more interesting, and that much more an accomplishment. No doubt there’s a liquid-cooled Buell down the road, who knows when? In the meantime, I’m not getting any younger, I’ve got no time to wait–and anyway I like the air-cooled Ducati Monsters better than the quattrovalvole ones. Here in the world, it’s all about the low-rpm and the midrange, and in those departments it’ll be tough to top a 1203 Buell with a few choice aftermarket pieces, of which there are about a million. For those who say an air-cooled engine can’t pass emissions, Buell points out this one comes in “substantially below 2004 CARB/Euro II limits without secondary air injection or catalyst.” If I picked a Motorcycle of the Year for the Actual World, I have to tell you I think this one would be it. On the other hand, now’s the time to get a smokin’ deal on an XB9S… Church Of MO – 2004 XB12S: Cheddarheads Strike Again appeared first on Motorcycle.com.

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