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It's your right but your are dead wrong

Sounds like you have issues friend. I recommend you celebrate the diversity of this great country and respect the heritage of others. It is because of this diversity that we have such a great country. This celebration of diverse ideas allowed a little thing called the Constitution to be written. So when ever you are spouting your bigot trash, keep in mind that this diversity thing gave you freeedom of speach.
 

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The best of all worlds? Not in the world I inhabit, where funds are tight.



Not a torture rack? I agree, though less vibration at the grips would have me agreeing more adamently.



Corners with the best of them? Uh, no. Compared to other sport-tourers, perhaps. Compared to an R6, not a chance.



Gets down the highway...? This is true, though one could make the same boast of a 250 Ninja.



Don't get me wrong; I love R1100S's (used to own R1100RS). But you may be sounding a bit like a typical Harley rider who thinks they're riding God's Own Bike with all of those unearned superlatives.



Besides, why are we discussing R1100S's on a Vulcan 800 post?
 

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Ditto...



Actually, I'm sort of afraid of her whole face. It looks like it was assembled from spare parts, ala Mrs. Potatohead.



When "Pretty Woman" came out, I spent the whole movie wondering when the pretty woman would show up. =)
 

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this bike has been damned with faint praise since it first came out.....the few reviews i've been able to find on this thing have always been a thumbs up albeit begrudgingly---like the reviewers aren't supposed to like it so they waffle. even in the cruiser hating british press they call this little package 'hugely capable' i've got to admit that i like the looks of the thing---kinda 7/8ths sized FatBoy for 1/3rd the price. with the proper neglect, this could make a damn fine ratbike. i'm thinking with some primer on the tank and some aftermarket pipes you're just about there.

out here in the midwest where curves in the road are as rare as honest cops, cruisers make more and more sense. just sit back, put your feet out theeere and relax and work on your tan while you straight arrow down the fourlane. dammit i swear i'm about to the point where i don't care anymore whether or not the HD crowd waves at me or if the sportbike guys think i'm getting old (which i am...and so are they whether they're ready to admit it or not) i'm about ready to buy into this whole metric cruiser thing and enjoy myself. hell, i have a hunch the insurance will be nearly free.....
 

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10 reasons why you shouldn't buy a metric cruiser:



1. you'll only encourage the factories to keep putting out bland copies of one another instead of experimenting with new designs

2. the seating position makes long highway rides something you endure instead of something you enjoy

3. the extreme feet-forward pegs means almost all your body weight ends up on your butt causing severe butt burn

4. try weighting the pegs on a cruiser when you need to ride over an unexpected obstacle; it's pretty much impossible

5. very limited suspension travel along with crappy suspension means your kidneys will have the snot beaten out of them, and your passenger will swear off passengering forever

6. you'll always know that your bike is an inexpensive copy of something else (Valkyrie & V-Max owners may disregard this)

7. I'm having trouble thinking of a good #7

8. no centerstand = big pain in rumpus come oil change or flat tire repair time

9. very little weight over front tire means less traction and crummy feedback. Not good in an emergency or in the canyons

10. did I mention the uncomfortable and unsafe ergonomics? If so, it should be repeated 'cuz they're usually really awful!



Just my 1 share of Worldcom stock's worth...
 

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Re: It's your right but your are dead wrong

I don't know what you're drinking, but it must be strong. Biggot you say? No, not hardly. I was merely trying to demonstrate by extreme exaggeration how truly insignificant the saying "jap bike" is in today's world. Hell, it was three years ago that Dr. Laura started saying '******-rigged' on national syndicated radio.

Now, because of the fact that you consider the local owners of a Chinese restuarant that you frequent as best friends, well, whatever. You should probably go back to your "reply to every post no matter how insignificant" regime.
 

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"christ this clutch is heavy.' he thought as he manuvered the '65 mustang through the heavy traffic of santa monica's surface streets.

Why did he rent this heap in the first place? God knows the expense account would have just as easily have covered a nice new grand prix or monte carlo, but no, he had to try to save a few bucks and called a place called 'rent a wreck' from a phone booth at the airport....and the two plus two coupe was his punishment for cutting corners. Trying to keep up with the girl on the motorcycle that he'd been hired to follow driving this bucking and snorting heap was getting to be a real drugdge now as she moved effortlessly between the lanes, her face in the breeze locked in a smile that was nothing like the grimace on his own fiz.

the mustang smelled of both raw gas and unburned exhaust fumes and he felt light headed and worried about lighting a cigarette in this potential fireball.

finding the girl had been easy enough--she came to work at Ladd and Yackey, mobbed up attorneys-at-law just as his client had said she would, all perky in her little short skirt/long jacket office attire, but when she left at 1:30 for lunch she had surprised him when she emerged from the building and headed for the parking garage down the street wearing jeans and a tight fitting leather jacket with that black half helmet in her hand. Minutes later she pulled out of the garage on a red harley....no, not a harley but one of those japanese bikes that tried hard to look like a harley....what did they call it? A vulcan, he thought. As she pulled away from the first stoplight he thought to himself that the bike was oddly quiet for a bike like this.....pooty patooty sounds instead of the potato potato thumping that the bike's looks promised.

perhaps she sensed that she was being followed, or maybe the circus wagon he was driving tipped her, but suddenly she came about and made a right turn on wilshire from the left lane, her footpegs dragging and thowing sparks even though she wasn't leaning the bike over all that far. even though the bike wasn't as fast as one of those plastic wrapped ass- in- the- air sportbikes, it was nonetheless a motorcycle and easily bobbed and weaved through the stop and go car bus and truck traffic---she was leaving him farther and further behind.

finally after a few kamikaze moves through some very very yellow lights and ass puckering passes in the parking lane, he caught up with her at a long red. he picked up the digital from the passengers seat and over his left shoulder clicked a quick snapshot of her as she sat waiting for the green. at the very least he'd have something to show his client if this thing all went south.

Several blocks later she pulled the bike to a stop in front of a run down warehouse that looked like it was being converted to condos and jumped off the black leather seat. She stood there and rubbed her ass with both hands for a moment as if trying to bring some life back into it and then limped hesitantly toward the construction entrance as though her back might be sore....the detective wondered if she knew about mike corbin and the wonders that his band of merry men could work on her butt? maybe when this was all over he'd make sure she got word about mike.

as quickly as she had disappeared into the building a sudden explosion changed his perception from normal speed to shudder/jump mtv quick cut----his world had changed in a millisecond as the warehouse slowly trembled and then collapsed in on itself, dust rolling out in a shape that somehow seemed almost liquid.

it all happened so quickly that all he had time to do was to raise his arm in front of his eyes and to roll to the right into the passengers seat. when the noise finally stopped and he sat up, he found himself covered with pieces of the windsheild and sheetrock debris from the warehouse. the mustang was covered in schmutz, but aside from the glass, pretty much whole. the warehouse was a different story....no living thing could have survived that explosion and the collapse. clearly his job was done and as he pulled himself out of the 'stang and put the digital camera in his pocket his eye caught the red glimmer of the vulcan. he tugged on the brim of his fedora and straightened his trenchcoat, and threw his leg over the saddle. he felt the weight of the bike as he tilted it from side to side. 'not too heavy...' he thought. he sat down and put his left leg up on the peg and toed the shifter tentatively. 'legroom's not to bad, either.' he mused. he thumbed the starter button and revved the peaky little v-twin just a bit and thought to himself

'this thing might make a nice rat bike if i spray a bit of primer on the tank, ditch them fugly decals and get some decently noisy pipes on.'

he kicked the bike into gear and as he let out the surprisingly light clutch he wondered if flanders made some apehangers that would fit his new bike.......
 

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Re: Tyres

Glad you took my point.

The last version of the Virago 1100 had tubless tyres on spoked rims, also. The spokes attached to a flange rising out of the rim.

O/T - I saw a Triumph Tiger last week, and it's tyres were marked 'Tubeless' but the spoke set-up looked like any other tubed rim. Anyone know if they are in fact tubeless?
 
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