I’m having a lot of fun fabricating a climate controlled passenger motorcycle trailer for my pit bull, Moose, to ride in. I have a few weeks to go before it’s complete but it’s really starting to take shape.
I started with a Harbor Freight Tagalong trailer and discarded the helper spring leaves during assembly to smooth out the ride. I’m fabricating the fairing by hand with West Marine resin and fiberglass cloth. The clear windscreen is a $26.00 Kage Racing P505C Clear Windscreen for 2005-2006 Honda CBR600RR’s ordered from Amazon.
My prototype cooling system will be a marine bilge pump sealed antifreeze system with reservoirs submerged in insulated ice tanks and piped to a small automotive heater core with a 120mm computer fan to blow cold air through it into the cockpit. As the entire system is sealed and the ice tanks will be isolated from the inner hull there will be no evaporation, no humidity, and no danger of Moose getting exposed to the coolant. I will post further updates and details as I reach milestones in the project.
Standing on the balcony overlooking the river flood plane below our rented house in Bandera, Texas, I was itching for sunup. The sunset was beautiful, and the small herd of wild deer jostling each other aside as they worked for their share of the grain Robin had strategically piled in the back yard were a joy to watch from so near a vantage point, but I was there for one thing and one thing only: the ride.
We had arrived and unpacked in a stellar former ranch house that had been up converted into a two story with a massive master bedroom and bath over the car port, where the gleaming Yamaha Road Star Silverado and Triumph Rocket III now waiting for morning.
While the rest of the family finished their wildlife observations and settled into the great room to watch TV I slid into the king size bed upstairs and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I awoke shortly after sunrise and within an hour Mike and I were in our saddles and pointing our bars north to the Three Sisters Hill Country Scenic Drive. I had the GoPro Hero mounted on the front right dresser bar and snapping a pic every thirty seconds as we leaned and accelerated through 150 miles of curves, hills, and valleys.
We made it back to our “base camp” well before dark and had a nice barbeque dinner in downtown Bandera. Within a couple more hours we were all nestled back into the rental house and watching the NRA 500. I wasn’t able to make it through the entire race, as I had consumed my nightly regimine of pain killers for my fractured vertebrae and soon had to drag myself back upstairs to dream of the hairpin turns and majestic rolling Texas hills I’d ridden over mere hours before.
The final day of our trip was spent breakfasting at the Old Spanish Trail Cafe and browsing the local antique shops prior to loading up the cages and heading home.
I said a forlorn goodbye to Moonshine as she disappeared into the distance on Mike’s trailer. She will be staying in his capable hands in Tyler untill I’ve recovered from my upcoming spinal surgery.
Perhaps I’ll be able to squeeze one more ride in this weekend before I go under the knife next Tuesday. I may just drive to Tyler Friday night in the motor home and do a one day swamp or piney woods ride before she get’s locked away in Mike’s garage for the next several months.
One-hundred-eighty-seven days, thirty-four minutes, and two cigars.
That’s how long it’s been since I’ve planted my butt in the saddle of my Triumph R3 for a good long ride. I’m probably going to have to take up smoking.
Two weeks ago I stopped in at Eurosport and Tony was nice enough to pull me into the shop so I could see what was being done to my bike.
There’s a reason that surgeons don’t allow family to come in and watch when they are meddling around with the innards of a loved one on the operating table. Motorcycle mechanics should have the same basic rules.
Seeing my precious in a hundred or so pieces made me feel nauseous. I have full faith and confidence that Tony’s crew knows what they’re doing, but I’d just as soon not see behind the curtain again. The only parts I could readily recognize were the front forks and wheel propped up forlornly in the corner, and the barren frame on the lift in the middle of the shop floor.
The guys are working hard to re-assemble Moonshine after replacing a few gears and linkage parts inside the gearbox. I’ve told Tony I’m desperate to get some riding in before my back surgery in late April. After that it will be another six months of no riding.