My 81 Kawaski LTD440
The rear part of the frame was fabricated by Mike47 and the swingarm is stock as is the wheelbase. Sportster tank, fender from Craig Tirey, stock modified handlebars, seat by Xianleather and paint, polishing and assembly by me. The stuff is pretty self explanatory, and had alot of stuff done to it to even list. But if you have any questions please feel free to emial me or call me. $4,500 or BO. The bike is titled, matching, yada, yada. It has been sitting in my shed for awhile and just needs a real good cleaning and it is ready to ride !!! Serious inquiries only. I am located in NJ. Nothing is wrong with the bike, selling because i have serious ADD and i am bored of it already and want to start a new project.
My 81 Kawaski LTD440
Hey all its Rich here better known as Ryzart. Marco invited me to contribute so here i am. Had a little trouble at first but now i think we have everything figured out. Thanx Marco ! I am a wanna be painter that does this part time but i love doing it so i will continue doing it and no one can stop me ! To start here are a few latest paintjobs i wrapped up ! Glad to be onboard.
I too am guilty of conforming to the need for style over function.
Its become all to popular to ride unsafe motorcycles, for the sake of being stylish, again I too am guilty as charged. I grew up racing, and can handle a bike pretty well, yet during my racing career I strived to scoop enough money to buy the best of everything. I used to pour over the bikes in the pits studying each and every component the factory guys were running, just to get that extra ¼ horsepower, or have my tires hook up just a bit more in that 3rd turn. Now my racing days behind me I bomb around crowded city streets, split lanes between big rigs, and dodge pot holes at 80mph. So its beyond fathomable why so many of us are choosing to run tires that have been sitting on a shelf for 20+ years. After finishing up my Sporty “Street Beast” I opted for a set of O.G. Raised White Letter Dunlop Qualifiers. They just seem to fit the bill all to well for the look I wanted.
However! After a late night run with Joe Scraper, I realized I was putting myself in harms way just to achieve cool. I knew as soon as I put the spoons to the rubber that the compound coupled with the age of these tires was just to hard to be draggin pegs through corners. But I let them rock and ran them anyway…they just looked to right to swap out.
I push my bikes to their limits, and it was obvious in the first corner chasing Joe that front wheel drift was not a good look to keep a bike from lowside disaster. I know, Im no Valentino Rossi, but there were more then a few instances where my learned reflexes were forced into action…and with that, knowing the sudden popularity in vintage chopper hoopla there are many, less skilled riders building bikes with one goal in mind…”vintage cool”. Most adorning their bikes with time hardened rubber, inferior or lack of brakes, and on top of all that…. held together with shitty welds. Ironically some of these “vintage” parts cost more then a brand new set, that will actually improve your ride.
Im no safety inspector and realize there is something exhilarating about riding a 2 wheeled death trap over miles of road and having a great story to tell your buddies. But I also know the feeling of scrubbing gravel out of an open wound, and having to call your Mom to wipe your ass at age 22 because both your hands are shredded to the bone. Maybe I’m just getting past that age of piss and vinegar, and at 32 years old the sense in my head is starting to take precedent, over my desire to impress. Nevertheless, I’ve just been seeing more and more of this, and have caught myself falling into bad habits, bad habits that will ensure me being sidelined later in life do to falling victim to style.
I love motorcycles to much to wear a label of “cool” and not “seasoned” as should you all. Now if my 2 cents doesn’t mean much to you, then Ill keep it and put it towards a fresh set of sticky Michelins
Think about it…
One of my fondest memories of childhood was, hangin with my cousin Tommy...My Uncle Matt was the care taker at Saint Mary's parish, So it was only fitting that Cuzin Tommy and I would raise hell in that neighborhood all summer long, relentlessly skating and damn near wearing out every heavy metal cassette tape we owned.
The North Shore of Long Island, just bordering Queens is geographically steeped in hills...all day Tommy and I would find new spots to skate, bomb down the hills, and sneak off to smoke Marlboro Reds and Lucky Strikes behind the Church. I could remember Tommy and I blasting Anthrax N.O.T over and over, till the priests in the rectory next door got migraines from screaming their Hail Marys and Our Fathers.
Uncle Matt was a real deal Hippie back in the day, rode a bike, smoked grass, made his way to Woodstock, and lived life fast.... he had the sweetest collection of old comic books, records, guitars, and whatever else a kid could lose his mind over. I never got tired of hangin around his place, there were always cool posters on the walls, Lenon in his NEW YORK CITY shirt, Black Light Posters, The Doors Black Sabbath, etc. A huge fish Tank in the living room and the most comfortable couch in the world next to it. Every morning, Tommy and I would grab the carton of Juicy Juice, a Box of Captain Crunch and sit in front of the TV, watchin "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes" sometimes 2 or 3 times in a row.
Most people Ive talked to in my later years never even heard of this flick...I guess I can equate my exposure and introduction of such fine cinema to having an Uncle that lived and loved the summer of 69. I loved every minute of summers at their house, I think part of who I am came from sleeping in that basement and watching these old flicks over and over. But just as every year, September comes and Tommy would go back to Queens and I to the Valley, year after year till we grew up and our fondness of skateboards was replaced by fast girls and faster cars.... Tommy went into the military and I moved to California to race motorcycles. We lost touch and our families went through some real hard times, but man those were the days....If only life could be as simple as a B movie and a cold glass of Juicy juice.
I revised my FTW tattoo
I used to wish I was back in the womb. It was a much simpler time then. I got to lounge around all day in a bubble of warm stomach sauce while meals were delivered, pre-chewed, straight into my tummy. The hardest thing I had to do was grow thumbs. Yeah, those sure were good times.
But now things suck ass. I have to work all day, my rent is too high and my favorite hobby is sleeping. Recently, I've started to lose my mind. I realized my only hope was to find some security, and I needed it fast.
Well, John over at FTWCO came like a white knight in my hour of need. He raced off to the nearest post office astride his motorized two-wheeled steed, his long brown hair flowing in the wind and smelling of rich sandalwood and aged leather. In John's sweat glistening arms he carefully caressed a large priority mail packing envelope. He insisted upon priority mail, so that all would know the importance he placed on his mission of mercy.
His care package arrived today revealing EXACTLY what I needed: an FTWCO Motorrad hoodie!!! Tears of relief streamed down my face ad I donned the sweatshirt. Instantly, I was comforted in 9.75oz enzyme-washed 80/20 Cotton Polyester blend. Black with "Motorrad Racing" in house golden yellow on front, with the same color and larger "Championship" art on back, the sweatshirt shields me from the hardships of life. It takes me back to that special place I long for which I was evicted from at birth. Suddenly, life is much brighter. Food seems to taste richer. The air - more crisp.
The hoodie gives me the confidence and security I need as an avid flat track racer. With my FTWCO hoodie I feel safe enough to take on any challenge. Bring on the mile!
Thank you John! FTWCO forever!!!!
I was walking Hank this morning along 7th street between Ave. C & D when a maintenance worker for one of the buildings started yelling "SNAKE!!! Stay back!!!" There were four men with brooms running around a parked car making a huge scene. Granted, snake sightings are unusual in NYC, there are several large community gardens in my neighborhood which make ideal habitats. However judging by the way the four were acting you would have thought there was a monster-sized Anaconda lurking about.
NYC's Lower East Side is crazy, yo!
I walked over and handed Hank's leash to the first worker and instructed him to hold the dog. I should note that while four grown men were shitting their pants, Hank was totally calm and disinterested. I'm actually surprised at how he didn't even bark when I handed him off to go play Steve Irwin.
Crikey! (not even close, pal)
What I actually found was a small Common Garter Snake. I grabbed an empty soda bottle from the nearest recycling bin, carefully scooped up the snake and coerced it into the bottle by sticking him in head first.
Definitely NOT a killer Anaconda.
Safe from broom wielding maintenance workers, Hank and I took the snake home. Once the dog was fed, I grabbed my camera and brought the snake over to the East River Park, which runs down Manhattan's east side along the river. I released the snake in an area of the park that is heavily wooded, free from lawn mowers, pets or brooms.
"The scene in that film when my cousin ate Ice Cube was AWESOME!"
The diet of the common garter snake consists mainly of amphibians and earthworms, but also fish, small birds, toads and rodents. (Not former rappers or maintenance workers)
From rattlesnakes in Arizona, black snakes and copperheads on my cousin's property in Virginia to my college roommate's pet boa constrictor, I have been around snakes my entire life. It is necessary to mention I also know how to identify the differences between poisonous an non-poisonous snakes and the correct way to approach and pick them up. I believe we all should have healthy respect for snakes and the importance they play in our environment.