Alas, Poor Buell Blast…

The bike that was my first real motorcycle has ceased production, I found out today. That's it, the little cube in the picture (well, not MY bike). Although it wasn't a classic and it was underpowered and guys with small weenies liked to make fun of it (mostly in the safety of print) and there weren't many of them out there, and it did get curious stares often, I did love it. Oh, yes, I loved my little Reflex too, but not quite in the same way. The scooter was sleek, refined, smooth and needed no additions; it was a complete blue work of art.

My little Blast was more wart-like. But simple, basic. It was a steal, used, and had a mysterious starting/back-firing issue at first that the illustrious HD/Buell mechanics failed to solve. Instead, a denizen of a terrific little online forum offered a simple solution that resulted in a bike that, while still a burbly, tater-tot-sounding single, an itty bitty Harley, ran like a top after that. It was a little, lightweight but bomber piece of naked goodness. Yes, I made my first offering to the bike-eating juniper with my little Blast. Discovered the true horror of freeway rain grooves. My first adventures in cosmetic mods and their addictive qualities, not to mention the meditative satisfaction of simply polishing, gazing and contemplating the possibilities, were had with my Blast. It was not fast, but could turn on a dime, if you would only do the balancing. It ate twisties for breakfast, if you were only brave enough to let it run wild.

If I had never had visions of freeway riding of any consequence, this is the bike I would still have. Self preservation at speed in crazyland called. The lure of the "road trip" and the call of the modern Huck Finn adventure called. Yes, the dumb but vast super slab was whispering my name. So much easier to hear when there are no doors and windows around you. Strange siren call. Still I took my first road trip with my Blast, even if it ended badly and solo with double luggage strapped and stacked onto every last millimeter of its little pillion space. It was my ride up a harrowing late-night, chilly, black twisting pass of sudden and fierce gusting winds, after a long, too hot day of sweat, and too many extra unplanned miles. Not to mention the crash. My first ride, nonetheless.

Apparently Buell feels that the Blast does not deliver the proper message or impression of the entire line that is its bread and butter: American Sports Bikes. Too bad. I thought it was a great intro bike myself. I didn't give Buell a second thought originally; they were ugly. Cruiser dreams only. Then, unexpectedly, the ugliness grew on me. Somehow the oddity began to appeal. I don't think I would have ever given Buell another thought if it were not for the Blast (the Lightnings are über ugly I still think).

So long, Buell Blast. You were my wee potato mobile for a formative riding year. My first moto-crack high. You taught me how to handle the basics and even appreciate that 360 lbs was lighter than I thought was possible, even as I had to huff you up out of the grips of the evil driveway shrubbery one day. Another first. Sweet dreams.

My First Blast

I have been remiss in adding to the blog for a couple months.

Back in late May, I became the proud owner of a 2003 Buell Blast, delivered to me courtesy of the Harley Davidson dealer that did the 1K service. It was all very exciting. The seller was very nice and allowed me to test ride it around the neighborhood to be sure I wanted it. It was so different than the MSF class bikes or my Reflex. So...burbly. The Blast is a very different ride than your standard rice burner or even a UJM (Universal Japanese Motorcycle). For starters, it's American made. Buell is owned by Harley Davidson, started by a former HD guy. It is much more elemental. The term "thumper" is definitely accurate at idle and very low speeds, even at 492cc's. But, as others have noted, it smooths out in the higher gears. I'm just psyched to have "my first motorcyle," and put my newly-learned MSF skills to use finally. Great class, but, oh, how fast the skills seem to fade without use! Shocking. As they say after passing the class, "you are now qualified to ride a motorcycle at 20mph in a closed parking lot." Very true. Actually my first motocycle is technically a Honda Reflex, a 250cc scooter. But, no clutch. Automatic transmission. Alot of body fairing. Don't drop or you will be sad and your wallet will be even sadder. Super cute and cool looking and very fun to ride, but not the same. I feel guilty not riding it in favor of the Blast, but I've been trying to get out and gain experience with the manual bike.

I've put about 500 miles now in the last two months, and it has truly been a blast, each and every time I get it out. It is nimble, nimble, nimble and turns on a dime. Corners and curves are so much fun, it can be a little scary. Over, over, over...yes! I have yet to scrape a peg, but don't like idea of it, despite the siren call of the turns. The little thing just goes right over. Quite lovely really. I am afraid I will be spoiled for other bikes. I catch myself thinking about what my next bike will be (a Suzuki sv650, btw), but then feel guilty, as my little Blast is so cool and unusual and fun. How could I? I have yet to see another on the road, but now find that I notice every other bike out there. So I know I haven't seen one. Have gotten a few interesting reactions too. Questions, folks checking it out while parked and one fellow even backed up at a stop to check it out, then gave me a thumbs up. Entertaining and fun, to be sure.<

The Blast is more of a naked bike. I hated the look at first. Went round and back between small cruisers, beginner sports bikes and other naked bikes. Then I had to have a Virago 525, which Yamaha no longer makes. Had to had to had to. But then I came back to the little Blast. This is the nature of obsession.

Now, if I could only find a pair of boots that inspire me and that I could walk in too...

With the weather now hot and hotter, it is a challenge to put on all the gear and take the bike out during much of the day. My new windshield that is so fabulous at freeway speeds unfortunately also keeps my jacket from thoroughly venting as it used to. I found out yesterday that if I lean to the left a bit, I get a little rush of air through the jacket vents. Ahhhhhh! But, I seem to be getting used to that hot, sweaty feeling when sitting at lights especially. It is just so much fun that I can put up with the heat. On the positive, with the windshield in the way I also don't cool down too quickly once the day's swelter begins to die. Riding at night, though dicier for visibility, it truly thrilling. Hypnotic almost. I always liked driving at night, but riding at night is extra enthralling. Fewer cars in general, of course, but, I don't know... Looking forward to the weather cooling down. Never have liked the broiling waves of endless asphalt that seem to be the rule in these parts. Blech. Trees, trees, where are my trees?! Nope, just a lot of road, which, in this case, is just as well, as I can ride onto it on the bike. Despite all the gear (and it's ATGATT, for sure: All the Gear All the Time), even short trips to the store, or Post Office are fun. Who knew?

And, to add to the fun, I managed to solve my first performance problem with the help of a truly awesome and useful Yahoo Group dedicated to the Buell Blast. A couple screw turns and some exploratory part removal later, no more stalling before warm up and occasionally (!) at lights. 'Course, the new-rider-re-start-the-stalled-bike-as-the-light-turns-green moments were, to say the least, character building. And strangely morale-building. Getting oneself out of an unfamiliar sticky situation pumps the ego (as well as the adrenaline). Considering that it sat for most of its previous life of four years with only 1K miles on it, things could have been so much worse. But no! Service manuals are great. Thank you Buell Blast Yahoo Group! I can't recommend it enough for any who are interested.

Keeping a wary eye out for the cages (cars) is the priority, of course, since so many accidents are caused by cars not looking for and not seeing bikes. So, am perfecting the Zen of Motorcycle Riding. Keepin' outa trouble and away from trouble, which is all around, it seems, courtesy of the ubiquitous cell phone, in large measure. More on that later, perhaps. Meantime, I enjoy the ride ever more each and every time I'm out. Mm!! Keep the rubber side up all!