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| This Triumph is true Sleeper. Owner told that the top speed is 216 km/h (134 miles per hour) |
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Joutsa Chopper Show 2011
Lävin Räntsi - Joutsa Chopper Show 2011
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| If you feel the photo content as invasive of your privacy or simply want your bike off our blog, please contact the blog crew directly. Thank you. |
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Oh snap!
Things are cracking all over the place (check out Old Soul Collective), luckily I only snapped my kickstart lever. Pre-heating, TIG-welding with stainless rod, more heating then a veeery slow cool down. Hopefully the li'l fucker will hold up 'til the new one arrives.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Things to come (?)
which it seems will lead to this
Researching dual-plugging of a 900cc XLCH has so far given me the impression that the pros on a stocker are negligible, but as there seem to be no clear cons.. and the theory is sound.. and I have yet to decide on cams, stroke etc.. AND the mag will be set up with manual advance/retard anyway..
But most importantly it just looks fucking cool.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
I'm lousy father......
it took me 10 years to take my son to European Champion Drags at Alastaro.
But the look on his face after first Top Fuel car has blown by was well worth it.
Heavy storm started about 5pm so they had to cancel the second round for pro series cars leaving youngest Finnish guy (Antti Horto 27 years) ever to run Top Fuel dragster on lead at his second race on this class.
Pride goes before..
Right, this has nothing to do with the huge gay pride parade in Helsinki today. Really. Though Mane should have been there. And his pan. Anyway.
So the chopper-gods looked upon the world and lo! There was a young(ish) man who's Triumph was working nicely, and the young(ish) man was filled with sinful pride, laughing as his brother kicked and kicked and kicked his pan. The chopper-gods were not pleased. Then one day the young man's brother kicked and kicked and kicked and behold! The panhead awoke and there was much merriment and rejoicing. And a lot of noise from those straight-ass pipes. Tho they are straight they are still gay. Anyway.
A short trip (~100km) was planned to celebrate and take cool posing pictures by the sea, and the young(ish) man decided to join as his triumph was working so nicely.
Cool riding pics were taken on the highway and there was much merriment and rejoicing. Then the fucking piece of shit goddamned triumph started spluttering and dying and the young(ish) man saw his brothers vanishing into the sunset. Well, his brother on the pan at least came back to check, but thinking it was only the engine overheating a bit the young(ish) man said he'd just smoke a few fags (pun intended) and then limp back to the garage, sending his brother on to join the merriment and rejoicing and taking of cool pics by the sea.
He smoked his last cigarettes and kicked. And kicked. And kicked. And kicked a few more times. And then he noticed he was getting no power from his battery what-so-ever. And the chopper-gods laughed, and there was much merriment and rejoicing in the heavens as the young man pushed his gay-ass, non-magneto, electronic ignition triumph for 40 days and 40 nights to a safe haven where he was even kindly lended a car to get home with. Karma back at you man. Big thanks.
And so, as the young(ish) man came home, dirty and sweaty and much humbled, he gave praise to the chopper-gods for teaching him an important lesson.
And what did we learn from all this? As usual, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Cheers, its beer-time.
So the chopper-gods looked upon the world and lo! There was a young(ish) man who's Triumph was working nicely, and the young(ish) man was filled with sinful pride, laughing as his brother kicked and kicked and kicked his pan. The chopper-gods were not pleased. Then one day the young man's brother kicked and kicked and kicked and behold! The panhead awoke and there was much merriment and rejoicing. And a lot of noise from those straight-ass pipes. Tho they are straight they are still gay. Anyway.
A short trip (~100km) was planned to celebrate and take cool posing pictures by the sea, and the young(ish) man decided to join as his triumph was working so nicely.
Cool riding pics were taken on the highway and there was much merriment and rejoicing. Then the fucking piece of shit goddamned triumph started spluttering and dying and the young(ish) man saw his brothers vanishing into the sunset. Well, his brother on the pan at least came back to check, but thinking it was only the engine overheating a bit the young(ish) man said he'd just smoke a few fags (pun intended) and then limp back to the garage, sending his brother on to join the merriment and rejoicing and taking of cool pics by the sea.
He smoked his last cigarettes and kicked. And kicked. And kicked. And kicked a few more times. And then he noticed he was getting no power from his battery what-so-ever. And the chopper-gods laughed, and there was much merriment and rejoicing in the heavens as the young man pushed his gay-ass, non-magneto, electronic ignition triumph for 40 days and 40 nights to a safe haven where he was even kindly lended a car to get home with. Karma back at you man. Big thanks.
And so, as the young(ish) man came home, dirty and sweaty and much humbled, he gave praise to the chopper-gods for teaching him an important lesson.
And what did we learn from all this? As usual, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Cheers, its beer-time.
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