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This needed to be reposted as I've just learned that only a few people stepped up and took care of their extra burden. Lance and Darryl have put a huge effort into getting this done and I find it quite insulting that there are people in this community willing to take advantage of these 2 hardworking generous guys. How many other people here would literally spend thousands of dollars of their own money to get some cool stuff for the small group of buyers here? The answer is very few! Does it suck that the price went up? Of course! Is it fair to make these 2 nice guys bite the big one for the sake of a dozen ppl saving $32? Uh no!! Let's get this done folks. It's the right thing to do, and it may just bring that wind back to the sails of additional header production.

Well after nearly 2 1/2 years I finally put the final touches on my VFR750. I have waiting since 1990 to own one of these pups and today is the day she is ready for the road Being in Canada there were not that many sold and fewer survived in good shape. I purchased mine 2.5 years ago and being from a province that does not have a safety inspection program I went through the whole bike to check and upgrade any issues Forks rebuilt Front brakes redone with new pads, fluid etc New tapered steering head bearings Rear brakes redone with new pads, fluid etc Clutch flushed with new fluid New plugs Engine coolant replaced New thermostat with new rubber hoses Upgraded the regulator with a Roadstercycle FH020AA Regulator, bypassed the old regulator plugs and wired into stator as close as possible, ( now 14.4 volts at battery ) and the new regulator has no heat where as the old regulator you could hardly touch Rebuilt the fried starter relay wiring The carbs were completely stripped with new gaskets, o rings, fuel lines etc etc, Shimmed the carbs for a little richer mix The bike had an aftermarket seat cowl and I was lucky enough to find a as new one sitting on a shelf As you may have noticed the side stand cover is missing but I am in the process of repairing the screw mounts and she will be 100% 1990_VFR750.MOV

I was late to slo1’s original post offering a new rear caliper mount for 4th and 5th Gens, but by the time I found it, eyrwbvfr had come up with a very nicely designed easier mounted adapter. So I jumped on it, having years ago swapped front ends and done the crossover line to link up the three pistons on the rear caliper, but not really liking that whole thing. Unmounted stock caliper with the crossover line: What a beautiful looking piece: Mounted right up perfectly, mounting holes were exactly right and a couple spare bolts I had laying around: This was the orientation of the bleeder and banjo coming from a Duc 1098, but upon disassembly I noticed that everything was perfectly symmetrical including the holes for the bleeder and banjo. Both are the same size and conical at the bottom, so they are interchangeable. Good clearances all around: Split the caliper for thorough cleaning, totally symmetrical front to back (as mounted): When I did the front end conversion and the crossover line to the rear I had the original mounting bolts drilled for safety wire since the fronts were and the rear basically never has to come off. By the same token, it basically is never looked at to ensure everything is tight. I could use the original already drilled bolts, but I still needed 2 new bolts to mount the caliper to the adapter. I could get drilled stainless from ProBoltUSA, but the ti are right there for a few many dollars more. Since I am getting 2 new drilled ti bolts, I should get all 4 so they match. Better go ahead and get some new ti caliper assembly bolts and bleed screw while they are apart. Why not get a drilled titanium banjo bolt? Safety first! That's where it all kinda went pear shaped on me. I ordered the ti bolts on June 30. After a week I emailed to see where they might be in the process and was told that the bleeder was backordered until 7-19. On 7-26 I called to ask again and was told the final parts were due in and would be shipped on 7-29. Finally got shipping notice on 7-31, fully a month after I ordered! So they came in today (8-2) and I got everything assembled: Ok, I'm no pro at safety wiring but I don't think anything is going anywhere... I haven't had a chance to ride it yet. Definitely have to "bed in" the pads, but it bled out pretty easy. I'll likely fit some sort of abrasion shield on the line there in the last pic where it touches the hanger. Notice that I swapped the banjo and bleeder from the earlier pics. Also, I took both calipers to the post office to weigh them on the scale there. 3 lb, 2.4 oz for the stocker with all bolts and the crossover line still attached. Brembo caliper with all titanium bolts and the adapter bracket mounted was 1 lb, 7.8 oz! (Pads included in both weights)

I recently returned from my annual trip to Laguna Seca and the World Superbike races, and am planning a more detailed write-up. But I need to finish editing my photos & videos first. In the meantime, some notes from the road of this 13 day ride. Total cost for 13 days, with motels split 2-ways: US$1550 Fuel: US$307, averaged 42 mpgUS, 51 mpg-Imp, 18 km/litre Meals: US$450 Motels: US$710 (my half of 12 nights) Nasty wx (rainstorm e. of Missoula & forecast of thunderstorms for 3 days in the Yellowstone area) nixed our plan to ride Beartooth Pass & Chief Joseph Scenic Byway. And earthquakes made us bravely rethink getting south enough to ride Angeles Crest. Hottest temp. according to my VFR was 31℃ / 88℉ Yamaha FZ1 measures oil level, not pressure as God intended Hwy 89’s Monitor Pass is a fantastic road, Hwy 41 out of Atascadero is a peach, and Hwy 25 s. of Hollister is a gem. And the Pacific Coast highway - well, it is near perfection. (see below) Lorne Taking 5 along California's Pacific Coast Highway, on a switchback just north of Jenner.

August 6, 2019 The Crash It’s been 28 days since I crashed in the mountains west of Redding, California on July 9th. It’s high time I write about my experience as it involves so many more people than me. Besides that, long before I was a rider, I was a professional writer/reporter and still love to write—I have had plenty of time to reflect upon my crash and a close brush with death and thought some of you, especially those of you who were with me and helped me out of the creek and those who helped stabilize me and to recover, might like to know how things are going. I also have a greater circle of friends and family who would like to be brought up to date on my recovery. I will be posting this to my Facebook page and of course to VFRD, the place where my circle of riding friends began and several of them were with me and witnessed the crash. To be honest, writing is a respite from the mind-numbing content on TV. I’m not saying it’s all bad, just mostly all bad. I normally work on my feet all day and being bed-bound and chair-bound makes me feel like a Labrador locked in a kennel. I need to get moving. Since there are many angles and aspects to the crash, the lead up to the crash and the aftermath-- which continues, I’m going break this up into several parts as I realize most folks don’t have as much time to read as I now do to write. But to get the important part out of the way, I’m doing pretty darn well. Of course I have a lot of people to thank for that, but my wife Pauline is my angel of mercy. We’ve been married 40 years and I’ve never seen anyone so unselfish, so nurturing and so worried about the health and contentment of everyone around her. The fact I was not killed when I could easily have been killed that day and that God has allowed me to return to my wife, to my life, to my kids, grandkids and friends, is what has kept me in good spirits throughout the ordeal. Pauline looks after me, is beside me, cooks good nutritious food for me, gets my pills ready for me, helps me inject blood thinner, dumps my overnight urine bottles, and scolds me if I try to push my recovery too fast. I cannot overlook the fact she’s also handled all the paperwork involved with the doctors, hospitals, insurance, disability income forms, etc. I broke my pelvis in four places, my left scapula, two ribs and had deep bruises along my thighs, seemingly bruising me to the marrow of my bones. I also have this thing along my upper left thigh/hip area called a hematoma. This is a big slab of spongy flesh where the muscle was tenderized and the blood vessels are engorged with blood and it’s exactly where a good set of hip pads should have been, the only failing in my otherwise full complement of protective gear. My riding pants have Kevlar patches and knee armor, but no hip pads, I was scanning the web for a set just before my trip but didn’t find what I was looking for. I had minor road rash, a result of running out of road and spilling over a boulder embankment said to be somewhere between 20 and 30 feet high. The people who winched my poor old bike out of the creek told my step daughter Sarah (who took care of the extraction of the bike from the creek), it was all of 30 feet, but who’s counting. All in all, there was little pain as long as I didn’t move my legs or pelvis, but when I did have to move I had to move very gingerly, I didn’t realize the pelvis connected so much to so much. Now I know. When the nurses slid me off a gurney onto the CAT Scan table the pain was excruciating, when they slid me off the Cat Scan table back to the hospital bed I bellowed out, and when they prepared me for surgery and got ready to slide me from my bed onto the operating table I pleaded with the anesthesiologist to knock me out first and he complied. Sweet dreams. So today, 28 days later, that crunching, grinding sound in my pelvis is mostly gone, thanks to two oversize titanium screws going from one side of my pelvis into the other, and to healing of the slighter fractures. The deep thigh bruises are feeling better, my scapula is now bolted back together, and titanium was needed as the “displacement” was just too great to allow it to heal on its own. The hematoma is getting smaller every day and the ink-black bruises along my back and inner thighs are either gone (back) or light and fading (thigh). I can get around on crutches better than Pauline and the doctors probably like because they worry I will try to do too much too soon. I don’t see why I can’t use my lawnmower as a walker. I’m planning on putting down my hickory hardwood floor before I go back to work, I suppose I should wait until I get the ok from my doctor, or three weeks, whichever comes first. Don’t worry, Pauline won’t let me do anything stupid. Part 2 to follow.

NGK Tech bulletin points out the fact that plugs are not bare steel rather they are Zinc or Nickel plated to prevent seizing... so no lube is needed...

I installed the new headers and I just want to thank the two fine gentlemen who generously donated their valuable time and not insignificant effort to get these headers fabricated, built and shipped. I cannot stress how much better the bike pulls now, especially after around 5k rpm. I hope everyone who ordered the 1st batch of 5G headers chips in to not only help defray the extra costs not anticipated but to reward these 2 guys who did all the hard work. And man these new headers look great! Sent from my SM-G955U using Tapatalk

There was an "interbellum" of some 11 years that were spend looking for greener pastures..... Same rear, 32 years later....

Part 4 recovery and reflection We’re more than a month out from the crash as I write this conclusion today. The farther my temporal distance from the crash the more I wish to stop looking back and focus ahead, thus is the reason for the lengthy gaps between these episodes. Writing about the crash, the lead up, the details of the crash and the aftermath has been a catharsis and has helped me gain a positive perspective on the saga. One thing to note is I gained a newfound appreciation of our level of civilization. I am often a critic of what many are recognizing as a collapsing civilization, the recent mass shootings are but one example. But civilization was there for me when I needed it most, from my friends, to the first responders, the ambulance’s quick arrival, the officers shutting down the road, the helicopter crew, the hospital staff, the orthopedic surgeons, and my family coming to retrieve me. I was not alone at any time. We all complain from time to time and with various levels of intensity how society is failing, but sometimes when an unexpected emergency arises it’s nice to know society and the structures of civilization are in place to mitigate physical damages and provide comfort and reassurance for mental and emotional anguish. I regret that my brief lack of concentration affected so many people. The ride that Derek and Craig Sample had planned so many months before was only partially experienced because of my crash. I hated having to make the call to Pauline, but thought it best she hear from me. She could hear my voice and knew I was more or less ok when I told her I was calling from the hospital. Wanting to see her again was one of the things that gave me inspiration to fend off the Grim Reaper in that creek bed. I also have two wonderful grown children with wonderful spouses and wonderful grandchildren that I was determined to come home to. It was recognizing that I would indeed survive the traumatic, violent crash and would be allowed to continue enjoying my life and family. That is what allowed me to be upbeat and positive, something several people commented on. I never became depressed emotionally. I do regret the whole affair, regret losing my motorcycle, regret the bother I caused everybody and the expense that accumulates with such an accident even though I have good insurance through my work. I regret curtailing the group’s planned rides and generally bumming everybody out. If my crash serves as a reminder to other riders to reign it in, just a little, to intersperse lighter paced sight-seeing with high concentration canyon carving, then I’ll take solace in that. I’m not sure I could have landed in a better place than Redding Mercy Hospital. Everybody spoke very highly about Dr. Osborne. I particularly enjoyed being cared for in the ICU by Adrianna and Jason. I’ll never forget Adrianna coming into my room and walking up to the big window and peering out across the rolling hills—a free spirt who preferred to roam in nature but chose the confines of a building in order to help people. Jason attended to me at night, we hit it off very well, even better when he learned I was a land surveyor. He loved to explore the outdoors and we talked of navigation and I told him of the two types of compasses we use, bearing compass and azimuth compass and explained the similarities and differences. He was very appreciative and wanted my recommendation for a brand, I told him a Silva Ranger, probably in azimuth as most recreation maps are azimuth. He ordered one while I was there and he was eager to learn about declination and how to orient a map and compass and run a fairly accurate heading toward a destination. While all this was going on Pauline and step daughter Sarah were driving down from Duvall, about 20 miles north east of Seattle. I wasn’t expecting Sarah to come down, but should have known, she’s always there for everybody in our extended family. When I originally called Pauline, and after she calmed down a bit, I told her my plan. Get the pickup, put our air mattress in the back, load it up with blankets and pillows, and please come get me. Instead, Sarah brought Pauline down in her late model Jeep Cherokee and fetched me home. Sarah spent most of day after she arrived in Redding taking care of my expired motorcycle. We had to pay $1,000 to a towing company to winch out of the creek and put it in impound. They wanted even more but Sarah talked them down. I never thought I’d have to pay to get rid of my ole’ girl, but that’s the way it is sometimes, a brief lapse of concentration, a simple mistake can have compounding consequences. With two substantial titanium screws going through my sacroiliac, I felt ready to go home. My clavicle and all the other healing issues could be done at home. We left the next day, anxious to get going, paperwork and whatnot delayed our departure until around 4:30 PM. Loaded in a very comfortable passenger seat, pain killers doing their job, we almost immediately found I-5 and headed north. Leaving so late and heading north in northern California turned out to be beneficial as traffic was light all the way home. We had one gas/pee stop and 10 hours later I was hobbling from the car up the walk to my front door. Pauline and Sarah are my angels of mercy. My clavicle is now set with a titanium plate, per Dr. Osborne’s stern directives, it was imperative that I find a good Orthopedic trauma surgeon in my area (Seattle) to continue monitoring my pelvic region and operate on my broken clavicle. Sarah and Pauline found a good one, Dr. Marshal. I’m now two weeks out from the clavicle operation and set for another visit to the doctor on Thursday to see how I’m mending. I feel good, most all the bruises have faded, the deep bone bruises are diminishing, and the hematoma on my left thigh is slowly vanishing. My pelvis has to heal right and proper before I can put direct weight on my right leg and the trick now is to be patient and not push it too fast. In retrospect, as I have had a lot of time to review and analyze my ordeal, my primary thought is feeling grateful for not being seriously hurt: I could have broken my back, shattered a femur, broken my neck or died. I was immediately aware I’d been at once unlucky to have crashed and lucky that my injuries were not as bad as they could’ve been. Although I was in shock at the creek, I was cognizant my friends were there and concerned greatly about my condition. I’m sorry I wasn’t fully aware of who all braved the steep bank to come to my aid but I appreciate the risks you all took. I am grateful for the help holding and stabilizing the stretcher. I apologize to my riding friends for severely altering well laid plans. I was moved when everybody came to the hospital to check on me. I saw the video and must say stuff like that makes you feel you’re not going through your ordeal alone. The old saying is there are two kinds of motorcycle riders, those who’ve gone down and those who are going to go down. For years and tens of thousands of trouble free miles I was certain I would not be going down. After my slow speed crash at about 75,000 miles or so I realized I could go down and when it happens it’s sudden and unexpected. After I started riding again after my broken ankle was mended I realized I was never going to be the same indestructible rider as before and whenever I spotted gravel on a paved road, my heart raced as I knew what could happen. With this crash I told some people, including my wife, that I was done with motorcycling. I simply don’t want any more titanium in my body. Not that I believe crashing is inevitable, but I know now it’s possible. I don’t like being laid up and feel crappy I’m letting my workmates and bosses down. They need me as this is our busiest time of the year and I’m the surveyor with the most experience they send to all the most challenging jobs. While mending here in Duvall, the Seattle area has been particularly hard hit with motorcycle fatalities, six deaths in one 24 hour period. One accident stood out as extra cruel when one motorcycle rider crossed the center line and crashed into another motorcycle going the opposite way and both died. This was along the west side of the Hood Canal road, one of my favorites whenever I head south and west of I-5. Just before our California trip seven motorcyclist were killed in New Hampshire when a drunk driver pulling a trailer crossed the center line. Last winter I was cruising at the speed limit in Rainier Park when I felt a breeze on my left ankle, I looked down to see if my pants were covering my boot, they were, when I looked back up an elk was crossing the road right in front of me. I hit the front brake so hard I’m lucky my tire didn’t wash out, I don’t have ABS. Why I was lured to look down the same time the elk chose to cross the road is one of those things that make you wonder. I’m not a religious person by any means, but I do believe there is a spiritual reality behind this materialistic existence. My philosophy is fairly simple. I believe there is a universal harmony and the trick is to get your personal harmony in tune with the universal harmony. The more these come into synchronicity the more harmonious one’s personal experience is and this blissfulness radiates to those around you. Was there a cosmic reason for my crash? Many people just believe people run into bad luck from time to time. I’m not going to argue one way or the other. All I can wonder is did my crash serve as a notice to my friends who witnessed it directly and will seeing what can happen with just a moment’s lapse of concentration help them refocus and give them greater appreciation of the inherent dangers of motorcycling? I’m not the one to answer those questions. I’m also left to ponder what really happened with that dream/near death experience at the creek. Was I meant to peer into the other side and report back, assuring everyone who reads my account that there is indeed more to follow? Again, I don’t know for sure and wouldn’t argue this perspective one way or the other. I’m not sure what I experienced and wouldn’t waste much time trying to make any steadfast conclusions and try to convince anyone of anything. I only know what I experienced. Which leaves one question, would I ever get another motorcycle and ride again? Perhaps, but not anytime soon.

Fixed my cheapo screen extender which had lost one of the locking pins by copying the remaining one and 3D printing another. Rather pleased with that...

Taken during a pit stop on a trip to Lacrosse WI from the twin cities.

I just turned over 10K on my 2016 Multistrada 1200 S. 160hp, 100-ft-lb torque claimed, at about 525 lb dry. rwhp probably 135. But with a button click you can dial that back to 100hp. It's a computer on wheels; traction control, wheelie control, abs, electronic suspension front and rear, angle sensors. The four available riding modes can all be customized by changing any of the settings and saving it to your own custom configuration. The 1200 changes are done through the bar controls, the 1260 that came out in 2018 also lets you change and save set ups through an app. It's got so much torque it's a blast to ride and in the right gear/rpm will get you to triple digits like now, if you avoid the small flat spot in the middle of the rev range. And it's got real electronic cruise control, cornering lights, gear indicator, and on and on. At idle with stock exhaust I think it sounds a little like a Briggs and Stratton lawnmower, but when the throttle cracks open it's got a roar that's intoxicating. I plan to pay the Termignoni tax and put a proper exhaust on eventually. It is a tall bike and carries that weight higher than a VFR. For me, not growing up on dirt bikes, the position and spread out bars were a change but I've gotten used to it after lopping an inch off each side of the bar. It tours with ease, the wife enjoys it immensely, the bags look good on it, and the bike looks good with them off. I get a solid 40 mpg every single tank. But it wouldn't be Italian without a few little things. The right front fork seal is on it's second leak, the fuel gauge is on it's way out, both common problems. My (used) bike came with a 5 year all expenses paid warranty, so it hasn't cost me anything except a couple trips to the dealer. The heated grips were useless, replaced with a $40 Symtec kit. The biggest complaint is wind buffeting at the shoulder and helmet, which equates to noise, another common complaint, I'm on my 3rd screen with some screen offsets that's helped a lot. It's really grown on me and I can see having it long term. The 2018 1260 had some improvements but not enough for me to switch. However, apparently Ducati is set to announce a V4 Multistrada in October, probably due out late next year along with the V4 streetfighter they've already previewed. Rumor is the V4 Multi will get some form of active radar and be well over 170hp. Given all that, my '99 VFR is just as good of a bike, probably because it fits me like an old pair of leather shoes that just get more comfortable with age.

Well, if this is an RWB lovefest I'm in!

I still havent registered my 6th gen. But I bought a Suzuki GS450 and a BMW. They are both groovy. Discuss.

Been on here randomly for a few years just asking dumb questions. Sold my rc51 and my crf450 supermoto before I got married 7 years ago (Big mistake! Not the marriage part but selling my bikes. I want them back, well the one that wasn't totaled after the idiot crashed it and wanted to buy the spare parts that I was including with the bike but he was cheap... live and learn). I love singles and twins and never should have sold them but always wanted a V4 and growing up when the RC30 and RC45 where debuted I wanted to complete the trifecta. Can't afford a rc45 so I picked up a 95 vfr750. Already had a gsxr front end although I can't stand the three spoke wheel. Also, it has the 8 spoke wheel from the 3rd gen. Rode it 2-3 times in a matter of a couple weeks then parked it in the garage for at least a one year+ slumber. We had a baby girl 14 months ago. Been buying parts here and there to "try" to make my 45 dreams come true and things just started to come together! I have a NC35 tail but my taste kinda changed so don't hold it against me. I can always swap out the tail for the nostalgia. I'll post more pics and if anyones interested on parts and quality I'll share that too. Sucks being old when a iconic bike like an rc45 has been forgotten!

Looks good.I like bronze better though.

He's my role model, or should that be roll model?

I have DSG frame protectors on mine, I got them through Gerhard THURN The mounting is the long engine mounting at the front and the engine mounting bolt behind it, the Delrin blocks mount onto billet alloy blocks that come through the slot in the fairing

The Crash Part 3 With over 300 miles of tight mountain roads ahead of us, the procession left our hotel in Redding a little earlier than the day before. I had misgivings about changing my mind that morning leaving Jake to ride alone to Lassen Volcano; I also was happy to ride once again with my VFRD friends. We fell in line and made our way out of Redding onto the roads northwest of Redding, eventually taking highway 3 past Trinity. We all stopped at a junction of Highway 3 and Forest Service Road 42N17, Trinity River ran more or less north to south, just east of the junction, while the Tangle Blue Creek was to our west, more or less paralleling the serpentine road we were riding on. The leaders pulled us all over at the wide expansive junction as Derek was going to ride ahead to a spot he had planned to set his drone aloft and video us as we rode by. He took off and later called his wife Tammy to say he was ready, we filed back onto the road and I found myself somewhere near the front of the pack but not at the front. The turns became tighter and tighter, some were increasing radius, and even seemed to be off camber. Tricky riding and I noticed with alarm a rider or two blowing the corners, drifting well across the center line and reigning it back just in time to set up for the next corner. Had a car or logging truck come around the steep curve ahead it wouldn’t have been good. I’m not sure how far we travelled on our way to the hovering drone, but on one short piece of tangent with a sharp left hander, I was closing in on Craig Sample and his Tuono, he was filming our ride with fore and aft GoPros, these cameras are not unusual on such tours so nothing unremarkable about that. As I’ve had more than enough spare time to replay that day and to try to determine why I blew that particular corner after carving around 10,000 other corners without incident, I’ve come to this: When you ride at the front of a group, or solo, you read the road ahead of you, there’s a lot to process and some riders use the “vanishing point” method to set up their line around a curve. I guess I do that myself. You have to adjust to the radius and the best, safest way to do that is by following the old axiom pertaining to corners, “slow in fast out.” You also have to read the surface for any traction problems, tar snakes, gravel, water, tree branches, animals, etc. A public road is not a closed track so it’s imperative to leave some speed on the table, knowing you cannot possibly calculate for any contingency ahead. However, when you’re following a group, you can get a clue as to the sharpness of a curve by seeing the bikes ahead of you and seeing their torso, or helmets going through their arc and this helps you see a bit farther around the curve than just by reading the road surface at it appears in front of you. In this case I might have been following Craig’s Tuono not realizing he was pulling to the side to wave us ahead in order to get different video. I might have allowed myself to follow him to the edge and when he waved me by I finally realized what was going on. I vividly remember glancing at his waving hand as I past him and when I looked up I was very near the edge of the road as its increasing radius was arcing tighter than I was. This is not to suggest in any way that Craig’s actions caused me to crash, the responsibility for my crash is solely mine and mine alone. I only mention these details because I had to figure out for myself why this corner caught me out when I’ve never had any problems before. I got distracted on an unforgiving corner, a corner, like many on that road which requires 100 percent concentration. That one tiny lapse of concentration resulted in a violent explosion of pain and confusion. When I turned back to the road I was already on the edge of the pavement, leaning over, Jim, who filmed me also, said my front tire hit a pot hole or something and started bouncing or shaking very hard and fast. I couldn’t believe I was losing control and then I slammed down hard, violently, dirty brown gravel and rocks exploded all around me. My first thought was for my ole’ girl, it was going to be ruined, I hit hard on my left side and slid along the gravel, expecting in that split second to grind to a stop only I didn’t stop, I just kept on going and going, and going. I slid off the edge of the road over a boulder lined creek bank and tumbled down the coffee-table sized, sharp edge boulders, crashing, bouncing, crashing, cartwheeling, crashing, tumbling, wondering when this nightmare was going to end. My bike was being tortured more or less the same way, I could hear it being destroyed by the unforgiving, unyielding granite blocks. I think it was loyal to the end, I don’t recall it crushing me, I like to think it did its best to stay clear of me. We both landed face down in the boulders. Me at the toe of the 30-foot high rock cliff, my bike another 15 or so feet out in the boulder-strewn creek. The way I kept falling, crashing and bouncing only to repeat over and over was beyond frightening and confusing, it made me think of death. I finally came to a stop, head down, only inches from the water, stuck between boulders, legs and feet up in the air. Before even trying to move I had one thought to process, one question to ask. Why am I still alive? It didn’t seem possible. I was alive and so wrestled myself upright and stood on my feet leaning back against the boulder, my head was still spinning. I glanced over at my bike, utterly destroyed, the Remus pipes that jutted out back seemed to have dodged the carnage somehow. I could hear the creek now. I knew I had done it good. Whatever I did wrong on that corner I don’t think the punishment fit the crime, yet here I was, battered, busted and alone, for now. My friends were coming. I tried to move my legs, they moved, I wiggled my back, it wiggled, I turned my head from side to side, so far so good. I moved my arms-check. I reevaluated my condition and was relieved to discover I was not dead, not even a vegetable. My broken ankle from before was fine, my back was fine, my neck was fine, hell, I might come out of this after all. I looked at my bike again and grimaced for the loss of an old friend. Jim Landon was the first person to reach me. This was no small feat as he put himself at considerable risk to get to me, he saw me upside down and feared I may be drowning. By the time he reach me I was upright and had already done my self-diagnostic. I was hurt bad and hadn’t realized the extent of my injuries. Jim started talking to me and his exact words I can’t recall but he helped me focus and tried to reassure me. This is about the time the really weird stuff started to happen. As I looked at Jim blackness started to envelope my view. It started from the margins and I tried to fight back the blackness by concentrating on Jim’s face and his voice. It was as if the Grim Reaper was trying to envelope me with his ink black cape that was rippling with static electricity, try as I might I couldn’t stop the blackness from obliterating everything, even the silhouette of Jim’s head and shoulders were gone. I have to admit, these few moments were frightening, I didn’t know what to expect but could not accept not seeing, thankfully the blackness did not drown out Jim’s voice. I concentrated on staying focused in the direction I last saw his silhouette fade away and honed in on his voice, it’s all I had to grab onto. It was enough as a few minutes passed by in total darkness and the blackness finally, slowly started to recede. Jim was still talking and he appeared once again right where he should have been. Fuck off Grim Reaper, not yet. Relieved about getting my sight back, something told me to get out of the creek bottom and I tried make my way along the toe of the boulder cliff where it meets the edge of the boulder strewn creek. Jim tried to convince me to stay put, by then Tammy and made her way down the slope and also tried to get me to stay still. I figured I was going to stiffen up if I didn’t keep moving and I knew I was going to need plenty of help getting back up to the top and wanted to help them help me as much as possible. The boulders were so large, the steepness so great everybody except me knew I was on a fool’s errand. Nevertheless, I managed to spot a strip of gravel that might allow an easier ascent to the top than the boulder steps and forced my way along the toe of the cliff toward it. Tammy did her best to convince me otherwise, Jim too. People up top were urging me to stay put, but I had that fight or flight adrenaline coursing through my veins and wanted to escape my predicament. Finally I could sense everyone’s frustration with my stubbornness and allowed myself a short respite, also I could feel my pelvis crunching with each step. I didn’t know the extent of my damages, but I knew then my pelvis was broken in several places. I also had a broken clavicle, two broken ribs and deep bone bruises, but only the pelvis was painful and debilitating. I stopped once again to Tammy’s relief and took a breather. Derek joined her in stabilizing me, and informed me the first responders were only minutes out. I was grateful and dismayed all at once, I didn’t want to screw up the ride for everybody, but that just exactly what I had done. As long as I stayed still I was in no pain, I had taken my helmet and gloves off at the boulders where I first crashed but left my pack and jacket on. I insisted I wanted to keep them on now, I felt comfortable and the pack gave me a cushion to lean back against. Where Jim had been my first angel responder, now Tammy and Derek had joined him to comfort me. Tammy held me, steadied me, talked to me and let me lean against her. It reminded me of the time in Germansen Landing, BC when our friend and neighbor Ray Reierson shattered his leg while horse logging. We happened to be in the area and were able to help out the best we could. We helped him roll to a sitting position and my wife Pauline sat behind him and made herself into a chair for him to lean back against. He did great until the medic stabilized his leg from one side and rolled him over a bit and we all saw his tibia and fibula jutting out from his skin, covered in dirt and pine needles. It was then when Ray needed oxygen to keep from falling deeper into shock. Soon a chopper descended and flew him off to Prince George. He said later he’ll never forget how comforting leaning against Pauline had been. I feel the same way about Tammy, I wasn’t going through this alone—my pain was being shared by my friends. I realized I was getting stiff and wouldn’t be attempting another ascent of VFR Mountain, knowing getting me out of there was going to be a challenge. About then the Grim Reaper decided to try again, everything faded to black, with that static electricity the only thing breaking up the ink black. Again I tried to focus on where I last saw Derek and Jim, and I could feel Tammy’s body against mine, her embrace helped me focus. Finally, the black dissipated. Then the craziest thing happened. I suddenly felt nauseous, with barely any time to warn Derek, who was attending to me, I think I tried to warn him I was going to throw up and I did. Except I barely remember throwing up because that’s when I crossed over to the other side, perhaps the other side of the Grim Reaper’s cape. I know this sounds strange, but I passed out and at the time, after I had woke up with puke on my arm, I thought I had just had a dream, but upon reflection this was no dream like any I had ever had. My dreams are always bizarre, don’t make sense, disjointed, annoying usually, stressful most often, panic inducing on occasion. But this was the most pleasant dream I had ever had. I was somewhere in a storybook village, maybe a cottage on the margins of a village and a natural landscape, the details are getting fuzzy as I’m more than a month out now from the crash, but it seemed like it could be my vision of an ideal existence, a small, community, very friendly people, not necessarily family, not necessarily not family, just nice people, who knows, but the one thing that remains clear is that I had this comforting feeling of belonging, of knowing this is how it’s supposed to be. It was also bright, glowing and radiating with good feelings. It was just a dream I thought and when I woke up with puke on my arms, I’m pretty sure I announced to Tammy and Derek and Jim and whomever else was nearby that I just had a dream, a most pleasant dream. Reality tore me from that paradise to the realization once again that I had just experienced a life-threatening crash on my motorcycle. The sound of the creek penetrated my consciousness and chased my dream/near death experience away once and for all. I was forced me to remember where I parked my bike. It lay crushed and motionless, dead in the rocky creek bed. The odometer would certainly not be tallying any more miles. I wouldn’t be needing that plastic nut after all. Curry had pointed out to me at the last stop that my taillight was out. Yet another minor problem I wouldn’t have to deal with. My friends stood close, inspecting me, I could feel my battered body wracked in shock and trauma and just wanted for a moment to duck back into that dream that maybe wasn’t a dream. I apologized to Derek in case I got any puke on him, we washed it off the right sleeve of my Joe Rocket perforated summer jacket. The material over the left shoulder armor was shredded, below that armor was a broken clavicle and two broken ribs, the very least of my pain and problems at the time. I was informed that the paramedics were close, that a helicopter was inbound and felt both relieved and guilty for having cause so many people so much trouble. Our group was not able to finish their ride, the drone had nothing to video. It was all about me, not the kind of attention anyone wants. The first paramedic appeared before me, he was an older guy, my age or even older and had done well to scamper down the steep bank. He was puffing and set right in to determine my condition. My eyes were instructed to follow his finger, check, I had to give my name and birth date, check, where was I, somewhere northwest of Redding, somewhere not too far from some place called Trinity, check. Although my helmet was off and my head and neck were okay, paramedics take no chances and the gentleman proceeded to secure my head in a cardboard medieval torture device, but I didn’t mind too much. Soon a stretcher was brought and by this time I was starting to succumb to my injuries and was retreating into myself, seeing and hearing the earnest activity around me through a haze. I felt myself being winched up, I remember the paramedic calling for some strong men from above to help guide the stretcher over the boulders. I felt my pelvis wrench apart every time the stretcher clattered over a boulder. It was slow going as my friends had to keep adjusting their own footing in order to give one dedicated heave, reposition themselves among the boulders and then another, over and over. I was reminded of how we sometimes used to have to get our snowmobiles unstuck after plunging down a too steep hillside. Several people would have to fight their way to the sled, work their feet down through three for four feet of snow on a 45 degree slope, give a heave, have somebody hold the brake or rope, everybody had to shuffle and re-punch new holes for their feet, give another coordinated heave only to gain another two or three feet of elevation. At one point one side of my stretcher fell away and I heard the paramedic shouting to hold on. I thought I might face plant on those obstinate boulders. I was leveled and eventually broke over the bank and was on flat ground. I remember a police man asking me how fast I was going, what happened and I told him not very fast 25 or so and that I remembered glancing over at the bike as Jamie waved me by. They were talking about my gear, the paramedics told the officer I had full protective gear on. This was mentioned several times, there, in the helicopter and in the emergency room. Each time the information was met with approval. Since I was strapped down, I could no longer see anyone unless they were standing directly over me. I was loaded into an ambulance and immediately felt I was in good hands. They put needles in my arms, cut my pants legs and I didn’t object, they talked about cutting my boots off and I said, NO, my feet are fine, and wiggled my feet and moved my legs, just take them off please, and they removed my Sidi Riding boots without harm. The ambulance took me to an “LZ” where I was loaded into a chopper. I so much appreciate the speed of the chopper as opposed to an ambulance ride back to Redding, but I have to say this was by far the worst chopper ride I’ve ever had. I wasn’t in dire pain, but just extremely uncomfortable. As I was being loaded into the chopper I heard someone say “keep your head down.” I thought he was talking to me and I thought, are you kidding me. My foot snagged on something in the helicopter causing me to grimace a little but then I was pivoted in, a first aid women sat behind my head, she was sardined in there as I was, her radio dug into my scalp a little. My sciatic area was extremely uncomfortable, I needed to stretch but couldn’t, I was dehydrated but they refused to give me any water because everyone thought I was going immediately into surgery. I so appreciated the ambulance people and the helicopter rescue crew, but I really wasn’t enjoying this chopper ride. When I recalled this experience later someone asked me if I had been in a chopper before, many times, I responded. We lived in a remote area of north central British Columbia called Germansen Landing for 20 years. I met my wife there and we raised our kids there. Several of my neighbors and I were timber fallers so when forest fires blew up in our area we were called upon to help set up advanced landing zones. Three of us loaded our saws, gas, ropes, axes, spikes and some water and food into the side bay of the Hughes 500, a very powerful chopper with four smaller diameter blades that allow it to get into tighter spots than the usual Bell 206. We were flown up above the fire line on a steep mountain ridge, the pilot found a spot that would have to do and hovered just above the steep slope, the front of his skids just touching the ground. We slithered out gently just as he had warned us we must do, retrieved our gear, gently, and he took off. In an hour or so we had opened up the tree line and built a sturdy platform for the chopper to actually land on and start ferrying pumps, hoses and people up the mountain. When I was a freelance writer I was invited to join a wolverine tagging project and we flew all around the Omineca Mountains checking live traps, collecting hair samples until finally we got a female wolverine in a live trap, unhurt. The guttural, primal growl that came from that 30-pound demon weasel made you want to turn and run for your life. The biologists knocked it out with a hypodermic needle on the end of a pole and when docile, pulled a tooth, clipped some hair, drew some blood and fixed a radio collar. When finished they gave me the honor of naming her, so I named her Jessica, after my daughter. Another time a French made A-Star helicopter carefully dropped into our property to take me to do a write up on helicopter logging far away across Williston Lake, my opening would have been ample for a 206, easily large enough for a Hughes 500, but an A-Star is much bigger. The pilot let me know that he didn’t exactly enjoy flying into that tight of a space. Got it. That trip was long and watching the helicopter logging was interesting. The wolverine helicopter ride was fun, the firefighting helicopter ride was exciting, even the time a 206 flew me up to a ridge top not far from my house to cover an airplane crash was somber but thrilling. The ride to Redding did not rank high on my numerous helicopter rides, of no fault to the expert crew, I was solely responsible for my level of discomfort. After 25 minutes of so, I heard the pitch of the rotors change and knew we were descending. I was wheeled into the hospital and almost immediately into the CAT scan machine, when I was out I met my surgeon, Dr. Osborne and he told me what we were dealing with, pelvis broke in four places, two broken ribs, broken scapula, deep bruises, minor road rash, etc. I had a minute of time to myself in the CAT scan room and found my phone in my riding pants, they were still on me just cut up. I called my wife and heard her always cheery voice: “Hey, hi, how are you doing?” I gently informed her of my situation and knew it would be difficult to get her to calm down. Finally I told her my plan. Get our air mattress and throw it in the back of the truck, we have a Chevy pickup with a canopy. Throw in a bunch of blankets and pillows and please come get me. I was wheeled into ICU and came under the care of Adriana, day shift and Jason night shift. I begged her for water, she was not allowed to give me water because we didn’t know when surgery was scheduled. I pleaded once again for water and mercifully she gave me some ice to suck on. It wasn’t too long we learned that Doctor Osborne had scheduled the operation for the next morning so I was allowed drink and have some light food. Redding’s Mercy Hospital is a trauma-level hospital and I immediately felt I was in expert hands. The next day Doctor Osborne, a heavily praised orthopedic trauma surgeon placed two long screws through my pelvis and that started me on my road to recovery. Part 4 recovery and reflection to follow

Added framesliders and found the perfect spot for my screaming banchee (not on pictures though)

I can’t believe I’m seeing what I’m seeing.... actual, live in the flesh (stainless steel), new performance headers for the VFR800’s! I hope the more recent owners of VFR800s appreciate the gravity and significance of this accomplishment! If I had any plans for more kids I would name them after these two fine gentlemen! Thank you seems like too small an acknowledgment.... we should have a ride, throw a party, and consume mass quantities! All I can do for now is thank you and acknowledge and support your efforts. Next time I’m in your area of the country dinner and drinks are on me! Please put me down for two sets of headers; a 5th gen full system and an 8th gen version... I already told the book keeper (wife) I’m getting them so let me know where to send the money. I know I’ve been gone for a while... I’d like to let my friends on VFRD know that everything is ok now and I’m stoked to be back! BTW... it took me three days to read through this thread! .... and I loved every minute of it!

Heading down next week! 🙂

Alright. It's been 24 hours and there is no sign of gas leak around the fuel tank/fuel pump, so think I have the issue resolved. What I did: I noticed there was a bit of warping around the opening for the fuel pump on the gas tank. Used a pair of small pliers and carefully tried to level the two spots that were warped. Also, I bought this stuff called "Seal-All" which acts as glue and sealant and is not affected by gas, oil, alcohol, water, and most solvents. https://www.amazon.com/Seal-All-380112-Contact-Adhesive-Sealant/dp/B008VK0JS4/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=seal-all&qid=1565196380&s=gateway&sr=8-3 I used a new fuel pump gasket and used a bunch of the Seal-All around where the gasket meets the fuel pump and as well as around the lip of the opening where the fuel pump connects to the gas tank. I also tightened the bolts to 9 n/m, let the sealant set for 15 min and then tightened the bolts again. I let it set for 48 hours (24 is probably enough) and then tested to make sure gas wasn't leaking. Pretty happy with the Seal-All stuff.

"The V10 amigos..."

Its been three frustrating weeks now. I hobble about the house finding it uncomfortable to sit, stand or walk for too long. I count my lucky stars though and know it could have been much much worse. My decision to wear all the gear saved a LOT of heart ache. Here is the bike. Insurance has today told me that it's a total loss. I'm really sad about that, but not surprised when you see the damage. I won't have enough to buy a replacement new VFR, though I could likely afford a second hand one. However, replacing it while I still retain the Daytona is not likely to go down well with the Mrs. I am considering the idea of selling the Daytona and using the money from the insurance and the sale to buy a 2014/5 VFR. I will take some time before I decide that though. And here is the gear. My boots aren't here as they are barely scratched. My Kevlar jeans aren't here as they were cut up by the paramedics. There was a hand sized tear at the knee where my injury has occurred. Weird footnote - when my sister arrived at my place with my ruined gear last week, my wife commented (and she's a theatre nurse in a major city hospital) that she "always thought I was overdoing it with all the gear I wear riding" and that it was a bit silly and over the top really. She's certainly changed her opinion now! ATGATT saved my butt (literally, you should see the scuffs on the back of the jeans!)

Update after replacing the steering head bearings in my ZRX. Head-shake at speed after letting go of bars is gone. Same tire, same balance. I did replace worn brake pads and cleaned the rotor surfaces for bedding in. Front end feels super tight and planted now. Spent a decent bit of time cleaning and lubing the speedo drive assembly, also lubed the drive cable well and greased where the cable slots in. Couldn’t be happier to get in another ride on Godzilla. Hot damn these bikes always impress. Old lower bearing: Visible wear on upper bearing race: Oooo shiney: Lower bearing pressed back on: Noticed my pads were near spent. Found a new set of Brembo pads upstairs... Gone for a shake down and bedded in the front brake pads. Now time for an oil and filter change. Done! Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

From my tour in the Catskills a couple weeks ago. Great roads - perfect for the V4 Sent from my Pixel 2 using Tapatalk

Well, gr8vfr did offer his help in person... This forum can tend toward thin skins at times, but it bears keeping in mind that everyone here is trying to contribute in their own way. We don't all necessarily agree about all topics, but that is why it is called a forum. The reality is that even brand new parts can be bad, as can the installation. You said the local Honda shop did all your work... let's just say that is not really a guarantee of workmanship. It seems like you're fishing for an out and out "this is your problem" diagnosis, but there are too many variables in play, that's why the suggestions you're getting are for methodical troubleshooting. I'm going to assume you aren't an experienced mechanic in your own right, but it sounds like you need the help of one, and not someone who is on a dealership's time clock.

Agree. My 8th gen. is my third and by far, best VFR. Have had a 1999, a 2006, and now standard 2014. I've run them all hard with 10W-40 synthetic (I don't care what Honda recommends on the 2014) and none used any oil. The way the 8th gen. has been ridden the last three weekends, it's a wonder it doesn't use some oil but none is used. Shoulder finally seems to be healed from rotator cuff surgery and I've come back with a vengeance in the Smoky Mtns. Age doesn't help though. I don't see how VFR's don't use oil but have no idea on the BMW.

I have never torqued a spark plug, being old school I wind it in until it seats and a quarter turn on a new plug.

Always use a dab of anti-seize on all sparkplugs on all my vehicles, car, truck, bike, heck even the lawnmower. But honestly, as long as you aren't putting the sparkplugs in while the engine is hot you'll probably be fine. The Dodge Cummins is the only one that doesn't get anti-seize on the plugs.

Ok...so it's settled then. Use some but don't use any. Good.

2018 BMW S1000XR 160HP, 83ft-lb of torque, 218kg/502lb wet. This bike is really tall, I had a lot of trouble with this as I could not reach the ground. We swapped bikes on a country ride in the middle of nowhere, me thinking it wouldn't be a problem as I would not need to stop. 30 minutes in we hit road works and they had ripped up the road with a grader and had built a massive crown on the middle of the lane. I went: "F#*K, what do I do now?" I had to stand on the left peg and jump off when I stopped, Taking off was the same, left leg on peg, take off, swing right leg back onto seat. My mates all laughed at me. No one offered any help or swap bikes. Bastards. What a weapon, the motor is fantastic, brakes and suspension are first class. Up and down quick shifter, active electronic suspension, and cornering ABS and traction control. For something so big, you can really throw it about. Brakes are frighteningly powerful, and its cornering ability is amazing. The sound of that motor (my mate runs no muffler) and the backfires during gear changes are something to behold. The motor is very buzzy, so much so that I found it really annoying. You can feel it through the tank and seat. Stting position is very upright, handlebars are so wide that you have huge amounts of control. Flipping it left right is a breeze. I'm sure this bike is fine if you're over 7'6".

To the op, sorry I haven't any suggestion other than to ensure that all is well with the bike. The transition on my '09 varies depending on gear, and on how quickly the revs are climbing. My one, short ride on a '14 didn't offer any insight into its VTec behaviour. And frankly, I was more interested in its off-on throttle response, and how that compared with mine. The VTec is all sizzle and no steak, and is a primitive system compared to its implementation on Honda's cars. The '98-'01 VFR800 have the same performance without the annoying (at times) hiccup in the middle of the power band. And without the equally annoying twitchy throttle that also plagues 6th gen VFRs It is clear from Honda's 2002 VFR press blurb that the goal was lower fuel consumption and lower noise, and VTec was their chosen method. I like my '09 VFR a lot, but despite VTec and not because of it. Fwiw, I've racked up 80,000 km on it, and another 120,000 km on my 5th gens.

2013 Triumph 675 Street Triple R What a hoot of a bike. 107HP, 51ft-lb of torque and 189kg/416lb wet. The steering is super precise, I still don't know how this bike turns, you just look at the corner exit and the bike is already heading there. The suspension is first class, even with my 5G updated suspension it can't come close to how good this bike is. Nothing upsets it, heavy throttle, ripples mid corner, braking, off camber, the bike just holds a line like it's on rails and does so without being harsh. Braking is also spectacular, stoppies are a breeze (not that I intentionally tried). That motor is full of character, the offbeat sound of that triple and the induction noise when you open the throttle with purpose is seriously addictive. It really gives the 5G sound a run for its money. It has great torque from 3500rpm onwards, and will easily out accelerate the 5G (and I'm running 2 extra teeth on the rear), specially on overtakes with not much room. Hit 7000rpm and the bike becomes a different beast, it just howls but starts to run out of puff as it nears the 13,000rpm red line. It is also super smooth with a very slick gearbox. The whole package is very tight and the quality of parts and finish is up there with Honda. The sitting position is much more upright, the seat to peg placement is like the VFR, but because you sit up it feels a lot less cramped. As expected, it has no wind protection, so long trips get a bit tiring. But the upside is a much quieter helmet as it has no turbulance. I normally only wear a tee shirt under my leathers here all year round without a problem, but on this day on the STR I felt the cold (it's mid winter here and it was 19°C) The strange thing was that I got a sore left arm on a 200km ride, not sure why but I would need to change or adjust the very wide bars if I was to own one. The bar end mirrors are only there to pass inspection as they were absolutely useless. It was running Rosso III's and you could not make a tyre that suits this bike better (I also use them on my 5G so I know very well how they behave). It was a great day and I had some serious fun, I'm seriously considering the new 765R as an option to replace my 5G, but I've never owned a bike without a fairing which holds me back.

I'm in [emoji106] Sent from my SM-N950U using Tapatalk

Thank the Lord Audi don't make bikes!

Congrats. I have a RWB myself. How many kms? The wheels need to be white! LOL It is the best bike I have ever owned. The Gentlemens sportbike. Enjoy and ride safe!

Honda have never been able to design a good cam chain layout and it is all to do with them constantly wanting to make the slipper as straight as possible. This then causes them to resonate and then the chain causes issues when the tensioner does not advance as it should. It has been an issue since the 750F back in the late 70's

I’m fortunate to have been able to ride from Florida to Colorado with a friend. He’s on a Ducati ST4S. We’re heading back later this week.

Good advice... I'd remove and clean and grease the rear spindle bearings... if you can't remember the last bearing service you have everything to gain and nothing to loose... Here are my axle care notes that I send out to my fellow RC30/ RC45 owners... Because the VFR and RC45 employ the same caged needle bearing that rides directly on on the rear axle I offer my method to clean both the axle and bearing... Once you have the bearing removed you employ a two jewelers screw drivers and carefully lift each roller from the cage... Give the rollers and cage a bath in gasoline... you be surprised at all the dirty deposits hidden in the old grease and every nook and cranny... you're looking at the deposits after only 10K miles of normal operation... Once the bearing are really clean lay them out and inspect each roller for scoring... Dirt mixed with the old grease will leave a trail of deposits on the axle at point B... Spun in a Lathe... it's easy to remove the deposits employing a gray micro fine 3M pad... it's soft enough that it does *not* remove any precious metal... What you'll end up with is an axle with the deposits remove plus giving the metal a nice luster...

She was so excited that she wet herself? Beautiful livery that BWR!!

correction, you got a $200 tee shirt