“Leather” Dick Bregstein Rides Again

West Grove, Pa (Oct. 26) -- An air of expectancy settled over this bustling little Pennsylvanian community, as a white garage door went up to reveal a gleaming 2000 BMW R1100R. The limited chrome on the 80-hp motorcycle caught the autumn sun’s rays like a handful of diamonds and the machine was wheeled out into the driveway with quiet ceremony. Five months after being carried away from a devastating accident, Richard Bregstein was again ready to mount another machine that would shortly bear the license plate from his fallen mount.

Dick Bregstein's New 2000 BMW R1100R -- Naked, Classic, Perfect...

Sunday's Inaugural Ride was Bregstein's first day in the saddle, after his 

horrific accident five months ago.

(Photo courtesy of Patty Jacobs -- Click to Enlarge)

The BMW R1100 is a radical departure in style for Bregstein, who has shown a preference for sportier “F” bikes, with final drives drive by chains or belts. Yet it would be hard to define this R1100 as “unsporty.” Virtually naked except for a narrow clear windscreen, this bike is a tasteful confluence of classic Beemer lines and new technology -- especially for a bike that is 8 years old! The style of the seat, the placement of the pegs and a pillion that abruptly ends in a tail light lend this machine a definite stallion attitude.

The rake of the seat, the jaunty oil coolers, and the lines of the tank 

all say "Stallion" on this bike.

(Photo courtesy of Patty Jacobs -- Click to enlarge)

The dated brushed alloy dash, crowned with an analogue clock, chrome riimmed speedo and tach, plus enough lights to decorate the triple tree for Christmas is all classic motorcycle. Yet the eye of the beholder is inevitably drawn below this arrangement to the telelever front end, which looks like art on this bike. The panniers on the back hinted at lengthy trips ahead.

The classic Beemer "R" dash on this bike is all motorcycle. I have admired this 

dash arrangement on other bikes of this type many times before. 

Note the extremely low mileage on this rig, something Bregstein intends to remedy soon.

(Photo by Patty Jacobs -- Click to enlarge)

The paint scheme is tasteful white and pearlescent gray, with yellow trim. The bike looks great and has a sense of mass heightened by the two huge jugs of the classic boxer engine. The generally impression was that this machine is ready to travel.

But was Dick?

Not only was the R1100R Bregstein’s newest acquisition, but it’s inaugural ride home would be Dick’s first real experience on a motorcycle since his incredible accident. Let me remind the gentle reader that Bregstein swerved to avoid an old woman carrying a baby last spring, careened into a huge boulder, and was ejected into the side of a house. His final words on being carried into the ambulance were, “Somebody get some milk for that child.” For his selfless sacrifice, Dick has been the subject of ceaseless emails and conversation, as his peers struggle to understand what happened.

Rumor had it that Dick was going to buy a Suzuki V-Strom, though close friends refused to comment on a possible marque defection to another theater of the Axis. And others saw him looking at an F650GS at Hermy’s, but his color of choice, plaid, was unavailable. It was Clyde Jacob who brokered the sale of the R1100R to Bregstein for a third party, after first showing him the bike and plying him with cheap Scotch. Bregstein regained consciousness in a Chinatown back alley, thousands of dollars poorer, and said, “I’m an Oilhead now.” (For those who do not know BMW's and who are sick of reading about them in this blog, the "R" bikes are oil and air-cooled; hence the name "Oihead." When Dick had his old F650 with the chaindrive, he was a member of the "Chain Gang.")

Last minute adjustments were executed with quiet precision, and Clyde went through each of the bike’s features as the final epic moment drew near. At the stroke of 1:45pm, Dick Bregstein emerged from the garage encased in black leather from head to toe. He has held a number of endearing nicknames over the past couple of years, ranging from “Bundt Cake” Bregstein to “Bermuda Triangle” Bregstein. At present, he is known as “Stone Mason” Bregstein, and I couldn't help but think the time had come to lay that moniker to rest.

"Leather" Dick Bregstein about to take his inaugural ride on the R1100R

The bike is a classic and so is Dick in many regards.

I was honored to be asked to participate in this event. I have covered more 

miles with Dick Bregstein in the past three years than with anyone else.

(Great photo courtesy of Patty Jacobs, at the direction of his wife Patty -- Click to enlarge)

He was now “Leather” Dick Bregstein. A name that will endure for the ages, or until I find a better one.

Dick threw his leg over the seat, made himself comfortable, and pressed the starter. The bike caught in a second or two with that reassuring sound so distinctive to boxer engines whether they are brand new or 50 years old. It is an understatement of class and reliability.

"Leather" Dick is all smiles as he is about to recapture the last two months of

the 2008 Riding Season.

(Photo courtesy of Patty Jacobs -- Click to enlarge)

We were on US-1 five minutes later. Bregstein put the bike through its paces conservatively at first, playing with the throttle and checking out the handling at 55mph. I watched him try a little dancing to see how well the machine could swerve, then laughed as he changed lanes a few times, opening the throttle to pass slower moving cages. I knew he was about to scratch the "itch." We followed Route 10 up to Gap (or thereabouts), where Bregstein shouted, “This is great,” when stopped at a light.

Traffic was light on the Rt. 30 by-pass and Dick picked up the pace, eventually passing through 80mph. The R100R growled in compliance, and sounded like a classic flying machine -- a zeppelin, perhaps -- in a power climb.

More than 70 tons of wet leaves covered Dick’s street like the aftermath of a natural ticker-tape parade. Bregstein deftly maneuvered his new bike through the tree scum and detritus, shot up the driveway, and blew into his garage. He jumped off the bike and gave me a high-five that I will long remember.

I was honored that Dick asked me to accompany him on this historic personal milestone of a ride, and look forward to many more in the future. As many of you are aware, a staggering percentage of my adventures have been with Dick over the past three years. I have discovered that Dick adds a special dimension to any ride. Dick's response to just about any suggestion is, "Okay. That sounds good."

"Leather" Dick Bregstein rides again!

©Copyright Jack Riepe 2008
AKA The Lindbergh Baby (Mac-Pac)
AKA Vindak8r (Motorcycle Views)
AKA The Chamberlain -- PS (With A Shrug)

Helping My Pal Richard Machida...

Nothing makes me happier than to receive comments regarding a story I’ve written for a motorcycle magazine, for postings on this blog, and for bits and pieces I’ve sent to other bike lists. One of the things that amazes me is the number of serious technical questions I receive. No one would let me get within 50 feet of a motorcycle if I had a screwdriver in my hand... For good reason. On the night before what would have been my first overnight ride to a motorcycle rally in a neighboring state, I decided to check the transmission fluid on a 1986 BMW K75.

Checking oil in anything is something any male baboon should be able to do by reflex.

According to the manual, I was to remove a filler plug and fully insert the flat handle of the wrench used to adjust the mono-shock into the opening. The incredible German minds that designed this bike eliminated the need for a dipstick and came up with this arrangement instead. There was a photograph in the manual that showed a graduation engraved on the wrench handle (to indicate the perfect level for the oil) and presumably the manner in which it was to be inserted. It should be noted that the caption under the picture was in German, a language I do not speak.

I followed the instructions and was aghast to discover the transmission was dry. I had just had this sucker up to three digits on a straight-away the week before and shuddered to think of what could have happened had the tranny seized. I started adding transmission fluid and periodically tried to check its depth. The damn thing swallowed a quart of fluid without registering a drop on the wrench handle.

“Holy shit,” I thought. It was at this point that I suspected I had missed some critical yet important point. I started calling people and thereby established my reputation for being an idiot when it comes to things mechanical.

As it turned out, I was inserting the wrench the wrong way. When I stuck it in correctly, it measured one quart over full. One individual summed up the situation by saying, “Jack, a moron can do this. Shake your family tree and ask the first person who falls out to do it for you! And whatever you do, don’t start that damn bike!” A friend of mine drained the transmission and refilled it correctly the next day.

So I am always surprised when anyone fires off a serious question my way. On October 24, 2008, Richard Machida asked the following question:

“The charging system on my R100RT seems to be happy with barely a bit over 12 volts at the battery. The gauge happily reports 12 even. The bike never seems to crank very fast, in my humble opinion, so I'm wondering how the bike would do on a long trip i.e. no battery tender in sight. I'd be interested in your evaluation.”

Well Richard, my evaluation is that your bike would be more enthusiastic about starting if you had a happier outlook on life. (In other words, don't be such a prick.) But that doesn’t help you any. So I asked the guys in the know and this is what I got back:

• Steve M. (the smartest person in Canada) said, “The quick and dirty answer is to take your bike off the battery tender, use it normally, and see if it gives you any trouble. Of course, you should keep in the back of your mind that it may not start reliably, so don't let it be your only mode of transportation to work while you are performing this experiment.

“If the bike fails to start, the cause could be a number of things, ranging from a worn battery that can no longer supply the cranking amps required to turn over the engine, to an incorrectly set up throttle assembly (been there). And this is where the real troubleshooting begins.”

• Wayne W. (In the witness protection program) said, “Twelve volts sounds low, but I'm not sure I'd trust the gauge on the bike. Use a real voltmeter. If it's 12 volts on a real voltmeter, I'd assume there's a problem. The diode boards on Airheads were notorious for failure, but that's a shotgun diagnosis. The charging system has several components and you need to systematically diagnose each component, in the correct order.

“I'd reply: It's intuitively obvious to the casual observer, that you need a new Flux Capacitor."

• Dan W. (who regards electricity as the work of the devil) said, “What is the voltage at 2000 RPM? It should be at least 13.5 volts. The charging system is suspect if voltage is lower.

But the fact of the matter is that there is no room for speculation here. If you are out in the boondocks where it’s been six hours since you last saw a light on the horizon, the last thing you want is a light on the dash telling you the battery and the alternator have gone belly up. If you are like me, you need the services of an expert.

I am not a motorcycle mechanic, but I know the best one in the whole universe, and count him among my very best friends. You can contact him at www.RubberChickenRacingGarage.com His name is Tom Cutter and he is best BMW Airhead expert on Earth, and knows everything about everything. He also charges very fair prices and is pleasant to chat with on the phone. (Tom was good enough to supply me the text for this paragraph.)

Tom Cutter has an international reputation for bike restoration, transmission rebuilds, and perfection in service excellence. BMWs with rebuilt transmissions, motors or annual maintenance from the Rubber Chicken Garage are known as “Cutter Bikes,” and have fetched higher resale prices.

In conclusion, Wayne W. also said something else. It was:

“Jack, you stated this disclaimer -- "My knowledge of things mechanical is well known and my attempts to arouse interest in this mystery have been met with ill-disguised derision,” -- and this guy still asked you a technical question?

What can I tell you? These guys play hardball.

Advisory -- Twisted Roads accepts no compensation from the Rubber Chicken Racing Garage, but unconditionally recommends their work. It is not our policy to refuse compensation, but no one ever offers any. In fact, Mr. Cutter has been openly critical of this blog -- and I still have no problem extending this endorsement.

©Copyright Jack Riepe 2008
AKA The Lindbergh Baby (Mac-Pac)
AKA Vindak8r (Motorcycle Views)
AKA The Chamberlain -- PS (With A Shrug)

Is Bigger Really Better When It Comes To Getting Her All Charged Up?

There is a Timex watch in the top drawer of my desk. It has been running for about 18 years on a battery that is the size of an aspirin. This is in contrast to my other timepiece, the dash clock on my 1995 BMW K75, parked in the garage. This is a German clock. You can tell because it is on metric time, where 1pm is displayed as 13:00 hrs. Metric time is different from regular time in that it takes a lot more electricity to work out the conversion process.

I know this because over a five-week period that German metric clock will suck enough electricity out of a 10-pound battery to leave it gasping when I press the starter button. Typically, the K75 will explode to life when you just think about touching the starter button. But if you let it sit for 5 weeks without being on a battery tender, as I did, you will only get the famous K75 “Start Fart” the next time you hit the button.

Contrary to the comforting combination of a whine and snort that comprises the standard K75 start-up, the “start fart” sounds exactly as advertised. It is the sound one hears before the starter relay sacrifices itself to prevent further embarrassment to the battery.

I have a GMC Suburban sitting in the driveway. This truck is 111 years old with 17 million miles on it. It too has a dash clock, but one that does not do the metric conversion. I mention this because this vehicle has been squatting in the driveway without being driven for two months. It started at the first turn of the key yesterday, and gave me the right time to boot.

Now it could be argued that there is a substantial difference in the size of the timepiece in relation to the size of the battery. The battery in the Timex watch is about 1/5 the size of the overall unit. In theory then, the correct size of the battery in my BMW should weigh about 90 pounds, and have the mass of a small bookcase. But if that formula were applied to the battery in the Suburban, it would be the size of a piano, providing enough power to roast a turkey.

The battery in this K75 has been the subject of suspicion (as far as I’m concerned) since I got the bike 18 months ago. Not because it has been troublesome and failed to start the bike. That has only happened once. But because it is smaller than the tray it is mounted on. Based on on the fact that the Germans give nothing away, I can only conclude this machine was designed to accommodate a much larger battery. (Have any of you seen the movie classic “Forbidden Planet?” It is one of the few times Leslie Nielsen has played a straight role. There is a scene in which Walter Pidgeon says, “No one has ever seen the Krell, but this is one of their doorways.” We are made to assume that the shape of the Krell is defined by their doorways. That’s how I feel about this battery tray.) My knowledge of things mechanical is well known and my attempts to arouse interest in this mystery have been met with ill-disguised derision.

Anne Francis was a silver screen sizzler in "Forbidden Planet."

The space car is electric powered and will be available in the US 

next year from a Japanese company who thinks like the Krell.

(Photo courtesy of Wikipedia -- Click to enlarge)

There should be an accurate gauge for everything. I once designed a gauge that would indicate when my girl friend wanted sex. It was a baseball cap modified to hold a little German chalet, that looked somewhat like a cuckoo clock. You know the “little house” that used to predict rain. When the witch popped out of the little house, it was my cue to take a cold shower. But when the naked “Black Forest Barbie” popped out, it was time for “Thor’s Hammer” to strike.

Traditional German "Weather Haus..." I modified one to serve as a gauge 

of passion potential and built it into a hat to take the guess work out of foreplay.

Black Forest Gifts.com has great cuckoo clocks too.

I want a gauge that clearly depicts the mood of the battery and the vitality of the charging system. It pisses me that I cannot tell at a glance the status of my bike’s battery or charging system. My bike sports a 50-amp alternator which should be ample to power the limited farkle (MotoLights and flashing LED stoplights) on this machine. But I have yet to see the low battery or charging system failure light come on, other than the automatic system test when the bike is first started. And still I ended up with a weak battery. So I decided to make a modest investment in two separate voltage monitors.

The first is the “Heads-Up L.E.D. Voltage Monitor” from SDC (Signal Dynamics Corporation). I got it on sale for $20. It is alleged to check the charging system 50,000 times a second, and to transmit the results via a single colored L.E.D. This is a rather cool device, made in the U.S. of A. The gauge part consists of a glass bead (L.E.D.) the size of small jelly bean, that sits in a bezel than can be mounted just about anyplace (though the dash on the K75 is ideal). The wiring runs to a modest sized microprocessor, about 1”x2”x.5,” which is hung someplace out of sight, then connected to the battery, via a line that becomes hot when the bike is switched on.

The "Heads-Up" L.E.D. Voltage Monitor by SDC

A single light emitting diode tells you everything you want to 

know about your battery and charging system -- 50,000 times a second!

(Photo courtesy of the author -- Click to enlarge)

When initially powered (ignition switched on and engine off), the system first performs a self-test by flashing all three colors in sequence: green, amber and red, before giving you the status of the battery. As you would suspect, green is okay, amber is cause for some concern, and red is bad news. With the engine running, green indicates a steady 12-15 volts. Amber means 11-12 volts. And red is below 11 volts. A red signal on the road indicates the bike may not restart if switched off. The unit flashes green if the battery is overcharging and red if it is severely undercharging.

The system dims after 7 seconds so not to blind the rider if it is dark. I thought this was pretty cool.

The second one is not as sophisticated. Made by Daring Kuryakyn Products in the proletariat paradise of Red China (where environmental concerns rank right up there with the purity of dairy products for kids), it is a simple black gauge with a range of voltage values -- from 8 to 16 -- crudely printed on top. The gauge is about a quarter of an inch thick, measuring little more than an inch and a half long by half an inch wide. (It comes in chrome plastic or black plastic. I chose black.)

I relate to gauges with numbers, and the less sophisticated unit from 

Daring Kuryakyn Products has flashing lights on a dial -- like something the

Krell would have built in "Forbidden Planet." I can just see the scientists and 

engineers in my riding group scratching their respective heads and saying, 

"Riepe really is an idiot." 

(Photo taken by the author -- from space, with a camera on a satellite that he built 

all by himself in the basement, while ragingly shitfaced. So there.)

A curved row of colored L.E.D.s match the printed voltage values. Eight to ten volts are red; 11 to 12 are yellow; 12 to 14 are green; and 14 to 16 are red. A serious discharge will give you a blinking red. A light sensitive cell dims the L.E.D.s at night. When first energized, it runs through a testing sequence. It too tests the battery first, and then the charging system.

A close-up of the face on the Daring  Kuryakyn Products L.E.D. Battery Gauge

The flash on the camera brought out some green on the instrument's face.

This is not really evident in the working model. Oddly enough, this one appealed to me.

(Photo by the author -- click to enlarge)

I hooked both of these up to a simple 9 volt alkaline battery to see what they looked like. The amber setting for the SDC unit was more like a pale green, but there was no mistaking their bright red or equally bright green. The less sophisticated Kuryakyn model actually held greater appeal for me. I just thought it was a little cooler. It is the one I will probably install. And it was cheap enough that if it breaks or aggravates me, I’ll just switch it out.

The simplicity of the Kuryakyn gauge intrigued me. I wondered if it could measure other things. In a instant, I wired it to the dog’s bark collar. This device responds to the dog’s desire to bark at anything that moves with a little buzzing sound and a variable electric shock. A passing squirrel caused the gauge to light up like a little pinball game.

Using heart monitor tabs, I then hooked the gauge up to “Big Jim and The Twins” and watched Sharon Stone in selected scenes from “Basic Instinct.” It registered “16” every time, and then flashed for an “overcharge.” With Halloween only eight days away away, I have a great idea for a couple of costumes. Leslie is going to be Miss Bavaria, with the little German cottage on her head. And I am going to be the “Human Dynamo,” with my gauge indicating a massive charge.

©Copyright Jack Riepe 2008
AKA The Lindbergh Baby (Mac-Pac)
AKA Vindak8r (Motorcycle Views)
AKA The Chamberlain -- PS (With A Shrug)