You can read the full series on The Bet and learn who won the race only on FactoryTwoFour.

The post Watch Two Unprepared Morons Race Across the Desert appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

So how can a 650cc naked Ninja possibly be better than the closest bikers have gotten to God’s grace? Simple – it’s actually usable. Consider the famed fighter jet the F-16. Undeniably a badass aeroplane capable of projecting the pointy side of freedom onto any shifty communists the world over, but less great at getting you from NYC to LA is anything but a sweaty ball. It is CAPABLE in the same way the H2R is capable, namely at bleeding edge performance and not suffering fools – and new flash you and everyone else are almost certainly fools when it comes to riding halo superbikes.

But the Kawasaki Z650 my friends? Now this is a bike that’s capable of being used, exploited, and trailer-park-level abused on streets and avenues you actually call home. This bike is so confidence inspiring, so tossable and user-friendly that it’s not a starter bike but rather a start to finish bike. This is all the bike you need on public roads and highways, and the only time you’ll be left wanting for power or poise is if you line up against some suicidal maniac on any of the halo superbikes. Let’s all collectively grow up and decide to end this obsession with more power. We’ve clearly reached a point in all our two and four wheeled machines where power and ability has outpaced the general public’s capabilities. Hellcats and H2Rs prove that.

The Z650 is that rare middle-ground of the right amount of power to not leave an old salt wanting, but not so much that it will overwhelm even the newest Squid. I loved this bike, in a way I thought I couldn’t love a modern bike (I’m hipster like that). Throttle response was crisp, handing was nimble, and all my inputs were reacted to in a predictable and measurable way. It is missing that edginess than many sportbikes confuse for dynamics but are really just poor driving characteristics. If I was shopping for another bike for the F24 garage, I’d give the Kawasaki Z650 a serious look, and you should too.

The post Why the Kawasaki Z650 is better than the H2R appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

We began training with the Wolfman bags and were immediately impressed by their good looks, versatility, and thoughtful design. They easily swallowed up heaps of gear, and between their inner bag and outer closing everything remained nicely dry and clean. As far as security, sure they’re less secure than a metal case but they don’t live up to the negative hype of being like Kleenex. All the folds and clasps for waterproofing also make getting into them unintuitive for the uninitiated and the toughness of the material makes knifing them a bit more complicated and intense than the casual sneak thief is up for. Cue the rare anecdotes of lone bikers, but thieves prey on easy targets and there are simpler scores than a bundle of snaps and webbing. They are really only under threat if left unattended for decent stretches of time, and then they are so simple to remove from your bike and carry with you that there’s no reason to leave them behind. Overall, I was not expecting to be as impressed as I was with the Wolfman bags.

In the other camp we have SW-MOTECH’s TRAX ADVENTURE panniers. These classic hard panniers have been around the world more times than a rock band roadie, and tend to survive the trip with far fewer leaks afterwards. The model we tested were a gigantic 45L. We never filled them up for our two day race through the Mojave, but would doubtless find a use for every inch during longer voyages. We loved the black finish on ours, and the water-tight gasket provided peace of mind through puddles and rain. Speaking of peace of mind, it’s difficult to fault the security of hard luggage. Not only do the lids lock close, but the cases themselves are also locked to the bike through the same key. Should you wish or need to remove them (as we did several times during the race for particularly treacherous or difficult sections), you need simply unlock them from the SW-MOTECH luggage rack and lift them off with a simple tug. This process is even simpler than the buckles and loops used by the soft luggage. After campaigning through the desert with these, I completely understand why hard panniers are the choice of world travelers.

Head to head, it’s difficult to fault either hard or soft luggage. this is why this argument among adventure riders is so perpetual. Generally, most chalk up their decision to riding style or aesthetic preferences but we aren’t going to cop out like that. We’re here to deliver an honest and irrevocable verdict damnit! A battle to the death then…

The price battle easily goes to Wolfman. You can pick up a pair of soft panniers for the price of just one hard pannier. Capacity goes to the SW-MOTECH trunks, with optional capacities of 37L or 45L handily beating Wolfman’s max of 33L. Shrinking violets these metal cases are not, but you’ll never be wanting for space on a long journey. Security feels like a draw. It would take only marginally more time and a marginally more qualified thief to defeat SW-MOTECH’s locks or connectors as it would for someone to slash into your unlocked soft bags. Vigilance, situational awareness, and common sense are always going to be the most important factors here. Weatherproofing sees a slight edge for hard cases, but it’s mostly mental. We just trust aluminum and rubber gaskets more than multiple layers of technical fabric. That said, we’ve never found water in any of our Wolfman bags. Weight goes to soft luggage, with both of Wolfman’s bags weighing about 10lbs, or equal to just one of the TRAX cases.

As far as crash-worthiness, things get a little more complicated. There were multiple crashes during The Bet where the hard cases hit the ground first, both protecting the bike and making it easier to stand back up. In addition, the sheer girth of the 45L boxes we tested meant our soft pink bodies were sheltered from the bike falling on top of us during hard falls. And all that was great until we ran one of the hard panniers into a boulder with horrific consequences.

Not only did it cause a crash, nor did it just rip the pannier off the bike, but it also deformed both the box and the rack it was attached to. So there was the bike in the middle of the desert with a ruined case and no way to reattach it. The only decision was to hide it among the rocks and abandon it until the race was over a Home Depot trip could be made to procure all manner of bolts and spacers to BS something together. Even then, the lid had to be duct-taped  down since it no longer fit the non-square box. Not only would soft luggage have simply deformed and deflected the blow, but I doubt it would even have caused the bike to crash. In any event, Wolfman’s bags wouldn’t have ripped off and left me in a very bad situation. The moral of the story is if you’re going to have many small crashes (as we did), then hard luggage is your jam. If you’re going to have occasional major collisions (as we do), and would rather ruin what you’re carrying than your pannier and racks, then go with soft luggage.

After trying both and testing them to their limits (and beyond obviously), the final analysis has to come down on the side of hard panniers. The SW-MOTECH TRAX ADVENTURE luggage is a workhorse this is the choice of many hardcore adventurers for good reason. They are tough, durable, secure, attractive, and simple to take on and off. If you prefer to use your bike for commuting and milk runs, soft panniers are a better choice for you. But if you’re going to do literally anything other than ride around town, hard luggage is the way to go. They come out on top in just about every area, and we’ll be sticking with them from now on.

The post Hard Vs Soft Panniers – The Final Battle appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

All good things must come to an end. Unfortunately, this isn’t true of all bad things. This was the thought that kept running through my head as I spent two hours attempting to extricate my bike from a small pit that was barely bigger than my bike itself. But we’ll get back to that…

A full year has gone into this gentlemen’s bet between Gary and I. We bought dual sport bikes, learned how to ride them in dirt (and Gary learned how to ride a bike period, as this was his first), we upgraded to BMW 650 adventure bikes, outfitted them for overland motorcycling with equipment, and then learned how to ride the fully laden beasts offroad. However, we weren’t in lockstep on all points. Indeed, because of our personalities, our strategies and tactics diverged almost immediately upon kicking off The Bet. Gary is a “learner” and likes to read about equipment or techniques before trying them. During the course of this year, this generally meant he was much slower to attempt new skills or difficult situations during our offroad training. But once he had done the homework on it, he would generally crush that skill with no problems. I am more of a “doer” who (violently) hurls himself against new situations and obstacles to learn. Sometimes this meant I gathered skills and experience faster than Gary, sometimes it meant a broken bike or body.

I was also much more willing to allow for broken bike parts, though, as I’m more mechanically inclined than my opponent. In fact, just a few weeks ago he happened upon me out in the garage practicing a tire tube change in case I got a flat. I was struggling mightily (because I was doing it wrong…); he took one look at the sprawl of parts and tubes and decided he wanted no part of it. He declared that it was “unrealistic” to expect to successfully get the morbidly obese bike up on its center stand, remove the rear axle, and change a tube while in the wild of the desert. He decided to risk it instead.

One thing we agreed on was meticulously planning our individual routes on Google Earth and creating rally pace notes to guide us on our two day solo journeys across the desert from LA to Las Vegas. A quick reminder of the rules: we each had 100 miles to get out of LA, and then we had to be off any kind of paved road. After that, we each had 30 miles of paved road to use as we wished to get gas or avoid obstacles. Riding was only allowed between 6am and 8pm, and we could rejoin roads within 10 miles of our destination – The Bellagio Hotel. And so it was that we packed what supplies we each thought we’d need, set up our secret routes, and headed out of LA at 7 AM on Friday the 26th of August 2016 – one year from when The Bet started.

For me, the race stared on an almost immediate wrong turn – literally. Gary and I rode together through town and onto the first freeway. Then, at the first freeway interchange he thought we were both taking, I made sure he was in front of me and ducked back off the off-ramp at the last second leaving him careening towards his offroad starting point and me towards mine. It was 20 miles after this, when I was feeling ever-so-smug about fooling him about my route that I absentmindedly merged onto the correct freeway but heading the wrong direction. Instead of seeing the San Gabriel Mountains, I started seeing signs for the beach and the very freeway I had left Gary at. Pulling over and consulting my map, I found I had indeed travelled 30 minutes back towards the coast. After being so diligent at marking my rally notes with the direction of every dirt trail and path I was going to take, I neglected to mark the direction of the freeways. An hour wasted just getting to the mountains that denote the end of Las Angeles and the beginning of our offroad portion.

Finally off the tarmac, progress proceeded smoothly… at least for a while. The BMW acted with aplomb even fully loaded. There were a few sections of my dirt path that were unexpectedly fenced off and I had to use about a mile of my 30-mile allowance to get around and back to dirt, but other than that it was smooth sailing. As civilization faded more and more behind me, I finally encountered the sight that signaled my secret plan – railroad tracks. You see, rather than pick through the spider web of dirt trails and single tracks that crisscross the desert like Gary would be forced to, I had an alternative plan. A good friend of mine pointed out that all railroad lines have truck-wide access roads running alongside them that are smooth as butter at least as far as dirt roads go. And wouldn’t you know it, there’s a rail line that goes directly from LA to Las Vegas. This was my masterstroke that meant even with my wasted hour, I’d still finish ahead of my rival. In fact, I was so confident in my route that I booked the Vegas hotel room a night early because according to my math, I would get there in one day instead of two.

So I came to the first railroad track and immediately attempted to go for it. And I got stuck. Rails, it turns out, are the perfect height to stop my back tire from finding purchase. Gingerly, I backed the bike off the tracks and realized that a major assumption I had made – one that would have been easily testable at any point of the year leading up to this – was dead wrong. I would be stuck on one side of the tracks or another until a pre-built crossing point came up. Undeterred, I progressed forward on my access road for a few minutes when a train came charging down the tracks. That is to say, less than 10 minutes after I had gotten my bike stuck trying to cross the track a seventy billion ton train came down that line at 60mph. So much for the second assumption that the line would be quiet. In fact, I had trains coming along every 15-30 minutes. This became especially “fun” an hour later when I had my first one through four of 14 total crashes.

The rail line had come to a ravine and my access road disappeared or split off where I didn’t see to follow. There was plenty of room on the basalt rocks surrounding the rails for me to get to the other side of this cut in the hill, and I successfully did so. But then following this section, the rail was built atop a tiny culvert that was meant to carry storm water under the line. The culvert was no more than 10 feet long and there was barely enough room for my tires and feet to scoot by on an aggressive angle, but if I slipped I would have fallen 10 feet down into the culvert. Rather than risk it, I decided to ride down the steep side of the culvert then gun it back up the other side. This was a terrible idea.

Fall #1 of the trip came just going down into the little valley no wider than my bike. Fall #2 came after I spotted my access trail off to the right, but blocked by a sandy berm that offered my tires no grip. Fall #3 came after I turned the bike sideways and attempted my original idea up the other side back to the tracks – again no grip was on hand and it was offensively steep. It was midday, 100 degrees according to the forecast, and I was wresting a 400 lb+ bike in full Klim motorcycle gear for about an hour while trains tore by at about head height. Needless to say the headache I felt come on was a bad sign of heat stroke and I needed to take a break. I tore off all my gear, grabbed my gallon jug of water, and crawled into the water pipe for shade and contemplated if and how I was going to get out of this increasingly hopeless situation. The emergency beacon on my chest was ever-tempting as there were only three ways out of this culvert, and I had failed at all of them.

After an attempted rest inside the shaded water pipe – trains going by four feet directly OVER you are even more disturbing than trains going by eight feet beside you – and a good drink of a liter or so of water I had a plan. Firstly, I took the lid off my SW-Motech pannier. Then using it as a shovel, I smoothed out the sandy berm leading back to the dirt road. Then on this ramp I had created, I scattered the railroad’s rocks. Finally, I collected all the scrap wood I could find and laid this on top of the rocks and tamped it all down by walking over it. I had built myself a road to freedom (hopefully), but if it didn’t work my race was likely over and lost. I removed the panniers for added lightness, picked my tire tracks, and fired the bike back up. A train came by to bear witness and I gunned it towards my ramp. My bike scooted up the improvised road, destroying it in its wake, but nevertheless depositing me back onto my trusty dirt road. Never does victory tasted so sweet than when it is snatched from the jaws of an emergency rescue team.

After reattaching my luggage and traveling on for some time, I realized I was suddenly in a race. With an hour lost on LA’s freeways and at least 2 hours lost in the world’s smallest and cruelest valley, there was no way I could get to Vegas before the agreed-upon sunset curfew forced me off my bike. And as this trip had already taught me, the going even on my access trail was anything but easy. In my mind, Gary and I were now neck-and-neck. Suddenly the tent and sleeping bag I brought just to fool Gary were very necessary.

The rest of that day had decent speeds, undeniably beautiful views of the Mojave, trestle bridge crossings, and a few more falls. I had been ingesting Clif bars all day and on my last fall I decided to partake in another and read the nutritional facts. Huge mistake number three (or four; who’s counting?) dawned on me as I realized I had only taken in 1,500 calories all day and would need my last two bars to get me to at least midday tomorrow and the only gas stop of the second day. This lack of energy hit hard as the sun began to set at 7 PM and I encountered my fifth sand patch of the day and crashed a few more times. Although it would be soft for my sleeping bag, I refused to let it beat me or to start my day tomorrow stuck in this horrible excuse for substrate. I pushed on and out, finding solace on the rocks of the train track, and rode on half-blind with hunger and fading light. Finally, at 7:45 PM, just 15 minutes before curfew, I spotted a secluded and solidly grounded spot to camp and preceded to hangrily set up my tent for a night in desert.

This is a massive tale already, so I split it up into two parts. 
Go take a break, get some coffee, then catch the finale here. 

The post The Bet – Overland Motorcycling Pt 7 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Having started the race on around four hours of not very solid sleep, not eating enough, and generally beating the hell out of my body for 12 hours, I slept like a sack of wet dirt. I slept so well in fact, that I didn’t wake up until 7 AM – an hour after sunrise and the riding curfew ended. Mistake number four, and another hour lost. This day brought much of the same – breathtaking scenery, sand, decent speed, not decent crashes – and was overall proving to be much more difficult than I had imagined. After my last fuel stop, and another protein bar taken in, I was headed towards my last 43 miles until civilization and the finish line.

It was this stretch, this final stretch, where I really had fun. The dirt roads were excellent and allowed for 50 and even 60 mph in spurts, but moreover they were fun roads that the BMW could lean and buck with. 10 miles down, then 20, then finally 30 miles were consumed rapidly. With only five miles until re-entering tarmac, my final disaster struck. It was 3 PM, I was still low on calories, and I was mentally worn down from all the fast offroad riding and the impending end of the race. In the middle of wide-open track, with flat space surrounding me, I hit the only boulder around, smashed off my right-side pannier, spun the bike around and crashed hard. I was beside myself with fury and rather than attempt to fix anything decided to press on. I rode that fury through the last three miles of dirt, harnessed it on the Las Vegas freeway to zero in on The Bellagio at not-quite legal speeds, and finally felt it leave me, now more drained than before, as I approached the check-in counter at 4 PM, not sure what my fortune would be.

The helpful check-in girl didn’t bat an eye at this disheveled human with wild hair, a dirt-colored face, strange technical clothing that squeaked with every movement, and more mud and dust than the marble palace of the Bellagio had likely seen in some time. At first she couldn’t find the reservation – only natural since it was for the day before. And when she found it, her puzzled look didn’t go away. She looked up, and with a fake customer service smile informed me that someone else had already checked into the room.

I had lost.

Gary had checked in at noon; four hours ago, or exactly the amount of time I had lost because of my many and various mistakes. Crushed, I collected my key and squeaked my way through the tourists and their casino to ride the elevator up towards the victor. For 23 floors I debated what I would, what I could say to Gary. Stepping off the elevator, the dread closed in and I made my way towards our room. Resigned, I flung the door open, reached out my arms, and belted out “Congratulations to the Better Man. You deserve it.” At this, he was very confused. With a quizzical smile, he asked me, “Why, did you get disqualified too?” Much confusion abounded. “Did you get my text? I disqualified myself.” I was too off balance to know how to react, but slowly it dawned on me that I had won. I HAD WON! After all the pain, and misery, and effort, I had won.

Over a much-deserved steak dinner that night (after the greatest shower man has ever known), Gary relayed his story to me: He too had a secret plan to follow access roads (power lines for him) that would see him finishing in a single day as well. However, an hour into his offroading time, he ran afoul of a nail and got a flat rear tire – the very situation he had declined to train for. To his credit, he somehow rode that flat tire in sand for 15 miles (that’s basically hard mode) into town. Then he had to be towed 20 miles into a slightly more real town to have the tube replaced. Hours lost, he had to then ride those 20 miles back to his offroad route. This unexpected detour guaranteed he would go over his 30 mile paved road allotment for the race and sunk him completely. He spent the rest of that day offroading on his trail (like a champ), and then stayed at a hotel that night. The second day, he woke up and took the freeway the remaining 30 miles into Vegas since he had already lost, and that is how he got there four hours before I did.

This was a year in training, capped by two very hard days for both of us. The race was significantly harder that I thought it was going to be, and that’s what made it excellent. We both know that the race taught us a lot – in skills, experience, and broken parts. But the biggest thing it taught me was that I want more of these overland motorcycling adventures.

A huge thank you to all the sponsors of The Bet: Klim, SW-Motech, Twisted Throttle, Wolfman Luggage, and REV! IT.

We’ll have video of this adventure coming soon…

The post The Bet – Overland Motorcycling Pt 8 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

There is no more time left to prepare. No more scheming, plotting, or psychological warfare can occur. The race begins in less than 24 hours now. All the equipment and parts have arrived, tire changes and roadside repairs have been practiced, now all that is left is to be punched in the face by the reality that is the Mojave Desert.

For a year now my competitor Gary and I have prepared for this. Five rear tubes, 20+ crashes and countless mistakes later, we are hopefully wiser and somewhat prepared for the two day solo trek through the desert. Neither of us should be anywhere near the other competitor as we have independently chosen our routes and we are starting roughly 50 miles apart. With no GPS allowed, each of us will have to memorize, chart, and follow our own route on paper maps and rally notes. Water, food, and camping supplies will have to be packed in. Same for spares and tools should anything go wrong.

The winner will be crowned the Better Man because he will have had to navigate the desert, deal with the eventual problems, and do it all at a quick pace. There will be no do-over of this bet and at no point will another “who’s the Better Man?” challenge be accepted between us. This is for life.

Speaking of life, it has occurred to me that there are some strange incentives to this bet. This is not a case of “the best revenge is a life well lived.” Say that I win (because if I don’t I’m moving to Europe forever), then the best thing I could do to shove it in Gary’s face would be to ruin my life. Let me explain – If I become a trillionaire who own modeling agencies, private jet companies, and an opium farm while Gary becomes Asst Kennel Cleaner at the local animal shelter, then obviously I truly am the Better Man and I really didn’t need the title to rub it in. And if we both become trillionaires then the title is just an asterisk to denote between equals. No, the best thing to do after I win is to become a syphilis-riddled street shambler who yells at seagulls and attempts to trade his shoes for a can of Four Loko at the corner store near my cardboard dream home. Only THEN will calling up Rich Gary every day to remind him that I’m the better man have any actual sting to it. So I guess that’s my plan.

As I prepare to buy my final supplies of water and food, I’m filled with competing emotions. I have a deep lust to be out in the middle of the desert, completely alone for hours in every direction, and soaking in the beauty of it. However, I am also aware that it is going to be 100 degrees in the middle of the Mojave and surely not all of my planning will go off without a hitch. Things will go wrong, as they always do. In a race it is difficult to “enjoy the journey” in those times and remember that you are making memories. I will have a stopwatch in my head for two days and will only relax after I have checked into the hotel with a time stamp of my arrival. I will attempt to appreciate the journey as mush as possible, but in the end this is a race through the Thunderdome that is the Mojave Desert – where two men will enter, but only one Better Man will leave.

Click here for Part 7, the final installment and the the big race!

The post The Bet – Overland Motorcycling Pt 6 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

These 45L beasts are made of lightweight aluminum and feel just as weightless as the Wolfman textile bags we tested last week. A common refrain you hear is that hard luggage is so much heavier than fabric panniers. Well, SW-Motech seems to have silenced that argument with their TRAX ADVENTURE series. And if they are equal in weight to their fabric cousins, they certainly come up tops in protection. Not only does the aluminum shell protects your belongings, but the lids are fully lockable to keep sticky fingers at bay. Additionally, you can lock these cases to your bike to prevent someone from just lifting off the whole pannier. Lastly, SW-Motech also provided us with a third lock that secures your racks to your bike. Necessary? I doubt it as you would either need to be familiar with the racks or have a decent stretch of time alone with them to learn how they are attached. So not necessary, but every little bit helps piece of mind, eh?

So are they better than soft panniers? We’ll do a full compare and contrast after The Bet is finally concluded this weekend. So far, these SW-Motech units will be hard to beat…

The post Go Hard with SW-Motech’s Panniers appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Wolfman Luggage out of Colorado makes what is deservedly regarded as the best soft luggage available anywhere. It’s rare to see the level of passion and obsession they posses for their craft outside of a Japanese teahouse or Amish woodworker. The Wolfman Rocky Mountain saddle bags that they have kindly supplied us with have clearly been created out of a depth of experience – there are so many small details and features that seem superfluous or fiddly at first glance, but reveal themselves to be wholly  necessary upon your first actual offroad ride with them. Take the multitude of snaps, adjusters, belts, and fasteners we found on our panniers. Upon unpacking them, my initial thought was, “This could have been done cleaner and simpler.” Design arrogance is one my better traits. But I was eating crow as I loaded my bags full of spares and camping gear, and every belt and buckle on the bags was used for the specific purpose of securely cramming as much as possible into the defined space.

Installing was a breeze at 15min or less while packing was the normal Tetris game and internal dialogue of, “Do I really need that!?” Riding with the Wolfman luggage was nice in that even when fully stuffed they are no wider than my handlebars – thus not making the bike any harder to ride or maneuver through traffic or rocks. And as far as protection, not only did almost immediately ram a bag into a concrete pole at “my” gas station to no ill effect, but the bags survived with nary a mark after several offroad crashes and drops – skilled motorcycleship being my other best trait. That is one major benefit of soft luggage, in that the eventual crashes leave no dents or scratches on your panniers. As for the other advantages over hard luggage, we’ll take a look at some aluminum examples next week then do a definitive showdown after The Bet. Stay tuned…

The post Wolfman Luggage Has Pimped Our Ride appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Offroading and adventure riding is different beast. Sure, you’re only going 30mph down that dirt road, but you’re falling often and when you do you’re regularly greeted by sharp rocks and happy little trees that make you not so happy. When I first got my dualsport bike for training I immediately donned some old combat boots and a no-name discount armored jacked who’s zipper didn’t even last the 6mos I was training with that bike. Once I upgraded to the “big” BMW adventure bike it was time to get serious about donning real protection for my squishy bits.

Luckily, true adventure wear is a small world and Klim was the natural choice. They have the most experience with this type of gear, they’ve outfitted plenty of well-publicized expeditions, and their staff has been crazy friendly with helping us get just what we need for our planned adventures. I picked up a full Badlands suit for both myself and my competitor/nemesis (we’re twinners!) and I gotta say: I get it now. I get why people wear this stuff. Where before I cast a sideways glance at getting all suited up for a ride, once it’s on you it becomes clear that ultra-modern moto wear is much better than leather and denim for staying cool and comfortable while in the saddle for hours. The Klim Badlands just works. It’s got strategic vents to keep you cool, zippers and straps to keep you dry when it rains, and is full of fun little features like medical info pockets and zippers built to be used with chunky gloves on.

I spent a 9 hour trip through 90-100 degree heat in my Badlands and never really worked up a sweat. With all the vents open, and at speed, I was totally comfortable. The lightweight materials also make moving around in the suit easy and immediate. You don’t realize how much leather and thick denim slow you down and mute your senses until you try something different. Did it get hot when I was standing in traffic getting to gas stations? Yes. Show me any kind of real moto wear that doesn’t do that. The Badlands suit is full of armored sections with the coolest kinetic material you’ve ever seen. Normally it’s pliant and flexible, but once it encounters a sufficiently hard impact it stiffens up 100-fold to protect you. This means you can easily move around in Klim’s suits, but they still protect you in a crash.

Crashes is something I’ve had plenty of in my Badlands. Offroad training on my BMW has not been kind to any of my equipment, but I’ve yet to do anything to my suit other than make it dirty. No rips, tears, burns, or even scuffs have materialized on my kit – and not for lack of trying. Probably my favorite feature is the built in pocket for a drinking bladder right on your back panel. This means not external Kamelback to make your back sweat, and one less piece of equipment to keep track of.

I can’t believe they’ve converted me to a full on motorcycle suit guy, but Klim has done it. I still wouldn’t don it to commute to work or run to the shops, but if I’m touching freeways to go camping or go on a long tour, I’ll be sporting my Klim Badlands and I’ll be quite happy about it. Plus, it looks pro as hell!

The post Gear for The Bet: Klim Badlands Suit appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

This post is supposed to be about flaunting my new gear and talking about our new sponsors for The Bet – Klim, Wolfman Lugguage, and SW-MOTECH. It’s not though. I was planning on taking you through all the stuffs they’ve sent me to review and give you guys my honest opinions on them. That’s not going to happen today. I was going to relay to you the first time I took the Sertao offroad and how it went. Instead I’m going to give you a tale of disaster, agony, and a pinch of fun and redemption at the end.

I could start this tale of woe at the beginning with me burning my fingers on the exhaust pipe as a kind of prelude to the shitty day ahead. Or we could pull a Memento and go backwards with me discovering as I finally arrived home that I’ve broken off one the GoPros I affixed to the bike to capture some sick shots for you guys. But both of those are weak, everyday pains that can’t elevate a story to the level of fiasco. Instead, let’s skip to the middle and the real meat of the story.

First, let’s set the scene: I’m taking a 4 day trip to Southern Utah to practice my offroad skills on the fat BMW before my final contest in August against Gary. To prep for that trip, lose this bike’s dirt virginity (don’t Google it), and as discussed to test out the new gear I just got I was going to to drive an hour north of Los Angeles to Hungry Valley – a “State Vehicular Recreational Area” or offroad park for short – and spend an hour or two on the dirt, grab those aforementioned sweet GoPro shots, then call it day. Easy really. My day clearly did not go that way (thanks foreshadowing!).

I installed my Wolfman tank bag after some trial and error, got all geared up in spiffy new Klim Badlands jacket and pants, and finally,yes, burnt my fingers on the exhaust attempting to adjust the gear shift lever for my new adventure boots. Not to fear though, we’re still having a good time. After mounting some GoPros on the SW-MOTECH crashbars it was time to hit the road and take the longest freeway journey I’ve ever done on a bike, then get my first taste of dirt on the Sertao. Now this was the first time I’ve been on the Beemer tangling with freeway traffic while also wearing legit head-to-toe protective gear and a helmet designed for speed. Normally I just jump on the freeway for a mile or so and wear jeans, a jacket of dubious construction, and my offroad helmet and goggles; it’s not a pleasant experience. But in the Badlands gear and a proper adventure touring helmet, I yelled to myself, “OKAY! I get it now!” That really happened – the onramp from the 10 to the 405 at about 12:20pm on Saturday if you want to check the tapes. But yes, I get how you could eat up states on an adventure bike and not want to gouge your eyes out with a soldering iron after 50 miles. I was so insulated, protected, and comfortable that it was a totally new experience and made the LA freeways livable. That said, I have no idea why people who just commute on surface streets get all suited up and prepare for battle with full adventure gear. It’s such a major piece of equipment and real to-do to put it all on, it truly is overkill if you’re popping out to buy milk.

An hour after my exclamation of joy, and a generally really pleasant ride all the way, I arrived in a wave of triumph and excitement at the small town of Gorman, California that housed the Hungry Valley park. Now let me detail exactly what happened in what order to you: I pulled up to the ranger shack at the entrance, turned off my bike, had pleasant conversation over the exchange of paper money for a day pass receipt, started my bike, travelled about a mile into the part to an open set up area with shade and tables, parked my bike, turned it off, and dismounted to get all my gear ready and carbo load before my dirt fun. GoPros ready, cured meats and Olive Oil Triscuits ingested, helmet and gloves back on and now it’s time to get going. I insert the key the normal (and very colorful and animated) startup sequence does not appear. Instead of my MPH needle swinging around and all my lights coming on, I just get a dot matrix message saying “IGN OFF” Okaaaaaaaay. I go for the starter button and get nothing. Turning the key off and on gives me nothing except now “IGN OFF” appears when the bike is totally off. My bike is, to all appearances, dead.

No problem though! Since we live in the future, all the worlds information and help is always at hand with our handy mobile telephone machines. But there’s no service in Hungry Valley. It’s a dead zone. Shit. But not so dead that one solitary text message came through while I was panicking, as if to provide a totally false sense of hope. Bastards. I kept attempting to look up what “IGN OFF” and sending texts and calls for help, but nothing was getting through. Just to spice things up and keep my game of Sherlock from coming to any conclusions, the dashboard’s behavior kept changing. Suddenly the needle would swing around but no lights would come up, or cryptic numbers would display with no rhyme or reason. Yet every time I tried the started button, everything went blank and dead. I was going to have to try and solve this like a person from the past – by talking to strangers…

In a giant dirt farm populated with 4Wheelers, dirt bikes, and quads I was lucky to have another adventure bike pull into the same rest area as me. I sought out my fellow overland motorcycling addict and asked for a jump while eschewing into the confusing chain of events as quickly as possible lest he think I’m soft in the head, or worse, a poser. His crew had a jump pack that we hooked up and the bike fired right up. We even killed the bike and started it again just to make sure I could ride. I thanked them profusely, then tucked tail and started back home without ever even touching dirt yet. I wasn’t going to take the chance of being stranded out there again with no service and a temperamental bike. I waived to the park ranger who had only checked me in 20min ago, and got back to the main road and the to the near civilization of a McDonald’s parking lot. I pulled over, bike still running, to make a few calls and texts to let my peeps know I was in trouble and there was an above 60% chance I was going to need a ride from the middle of nowhere at some point in the next 2 hours. Done stressing everyone out, I engaged first and rolled on the throttle to pull away and the bike died. Because of course it did.

While cursing up enough of a storm to make a sailor blush, I ran to the auto shop next door to Mc’s and asked them for a jump. I figured that, while it was very stupid to put a questionable machine onto the freeway and spend an hour going 80+, the onramp was literally 50ft away and the engine would/could power everything once it was held at revs. I’m not a smart man. Second jump complete and bike successfully restarted, this time I couldn’t even get out of a 10ft driveway before it died from the stress of being alive. It was clear this bike was going nowhere. My only hope now was my arch nemesis in The Bet and the whole reason I’m on this stupid German machine in the middle of desert nowhere – Gary.

Oh the humiliation. The groveling that had to take place. The promises of free meals and upscale whiskey were numerous to get him to consider either renting a trailer or buying a new battery then coming up an hour each way to rescue me, his competitor, a day before his birthday. Pleading completed and a deal struck, I hung up and started to disassemble my bike so I could tell him exactly what tools he would need to bring to replace the battery. As I was doing that, a tow truck arrived with a dead SUV at the mechanics shop I was stranded at. Once he was had offloaded the dead Lincoln Navigator and family, I approached his Hulk Hogan mustache and asked if he knew of anywhere in this one horse town to buy a motorcycle battery. Much to my surprise, he relayed that there was a moto shop at the next freeway exit just up the road, then suggested I look them up on my phone. It was at this exact moment that I felt like an idiot for not using my future machine first. I found the shop, called and confirmed they had a battery for me, and then navigated the distance to see that it was about an hour walk. Haha screw you Gary! I’m solving this one myself!

You know how tow truck drivers pack a .357 magnum and are some of the meanest humans in existence? Well when I walked back to Hulkamania to thank him and tell him I was hoofing it to the shop, he told me jump in his cab and said he’d give me a lift there! The Hulkster turned out to be an angel. After I stashed my helmet and heavy jacket near the dead bike, I got in the truck and we chatted about different bikes we’ve owned during the trip to the moto store where he dropped me off with  smile and wave. Now it was just a matter of buying a new battery and getting back to the bike. And, of course, hoping that the problem was the battery and not the alternator/stator…

Walking the mile back along a frontage road in 94 weather while wearing new (read: not broken in) moto boots and heavy adventure pants was not fun. I threw my thumb out for the first 4 cars to drive by, but the road was so deserted I gave up hope and figured I may as well get a tan while I’m hoofing it. I ditched my shirt – effectively giving up all hope for a ride since no sane person would give a shirtless dude a ride – stuffed it haphazardly in a pocket, and started the trek uphill. Of course it was an uphill climb for the first half of my walk, why wouldn’t it be? And of course upon finally getting to the “peak” of road did I notice that my shirt had fallen out of my pants and was somewhere back down the hill, so I got to do it all over again. Regardless, I sweated my ass off for an hour in those damn pants and stiff boots and arrived back at my stranded bike.

With nothing missing off the bike and my hidden clothes and helmet still there, I set to work on replacing the battery. This was pretty quick work but it did give me time to think through my next course of action. Do I A) be a smart human and immediately take the hour trip home so I don’t possibly get stranded out here again, or B) refuse to not at least do a touch of offroading to make all this misery worth it? B, of course. Why even ask? I put the bike together, fired her up, and pointed right back into the offroad park to reclaim a tablespoon of dignity for myself.

And you know what? I had a blast. I mean, I dropped the bike pretty much immediately so that cherry is popped as well, and this bike is a hundred pounds fatter than the bike I started The Bet with, but it was great to be back on the dirt and learning about what this bike is capable of. I was shocked at how capable the Sertao is, and can clearly see why the Beemer adventure bikes are the choice for conquering the world’s terrain. There were several instances of me rounding a blind corner to find myself in a very difficult or technical situation, and each time the GS ate it up with no problem. The bike is a too easy to get going fast, and too difficult to slow down in emergencies, but overall I was carving up single track mountain trails with ease within 5 minutes. Of course there were more butt-puckering moments and one more crash (there’s that lost GoPro right there), and the looming fear that I was running on battery power and my bike would die at any moment, but I had my fun and reminded myself why it was all worth it. After an hour the fear became overwhelming, along with my very tired body, and I scooted back to LA. I arrived back at FactoryTwoFour HQ without incident, and other than discovering the missing GoPro all was well.

My 4 day trip to Southern Utah is in less than a week, so I’ve only got a few days to figure out if it was indeed a bum battery or if I have a more major problem. I’m sure it will all work out for me, nothing ever goes wrong in my life…

Click here for Part 6 and the final preparation before the big race!

The post The Bet – Overland Motorcycling Pt 5 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

You guys, can we all get real for the exact same moment? We are 6mos into our 1yr overland motorcycling challenge of manhood that we have concocted, and I am feeling confident.  Between Gary and I, we have taken to this activity pretty well and learned enough in a short time to be fairly competent offroad riders. Even more so, the differences between us are growing more apparent and therefore my strategy to crush Gary in the final competition is coming into clearer focus.

See, it has become a regular occurrence during our monthly practice sessions that we will be 10 minutes into riding – warming up really – and the Gerber Baby will start whining about how tired he already is. Now, is he a whiny child in general? Absolutely. Without a doubt. Lazy too. BUT, he is also a prideful creature that wants to win this contest just as much as I do. As we train more and more it is coming into sharp relief that he has a lot of the techniques down  better than I, but he is less willing to take risks and is easily tired out. With those strengths and weaknesses in mind, I’m going to craft the perfect final challenge to test us – and utterly exploit Gary’s weaknesses. Hey, I want to win…

The ultimate test is going to have to be carefully planned. There are ample opportunities to screw up and make the test too easy, concentrated on the wrong aspects, or not easily measurable. This 12 month experiment is not a contest around buzzing around a motocross track the fastest, or bucking sick jumps yo – it’s about navigating from point A to point B with no roads or civilization. How do you take a motorcycle over wild land and survive with man and machine intact? Therefore, the final contest can not be allowed to turn into a sprinting race or held in an offroad park and just timed. It needs to be a grueling crucible of man, machine, and mind. I’m going to have to get creative…

Los Angeles to Los Vegas – first man to check in to the hotel at the end is the undisputed winner. Done the hard way and sticking to dirt only, the route takes 2 days. There are ample routes to choose from, convenient halting points and refueling stops, and there is a wealth of information from others who have done it. This kind of a route keeps it from turning into a sprint, is short enough for us to do in a 3-day weekend, and has a buffet at the end. But many questions remain… What if we each choose the same route and it turns into a race? I promise I will hurt myself if that happens because I’m too competitive to back off when common sense says I should. LA to Vegas is the current frontrunner for this contest.

But is a race the best test of our technique? We could be better served, and a lot safer, if we rode together and had an impartial adjudicator along silently – or mockingly – watching and judging our every move to determine who is the best overland rider. But it is far easier to argue or dismiss a judge than it is a stopwatch, and now that’s three people and three bike to corral…

Speaking of bikes, our current ones just won’t do for The Contest (I’m going to capitalize it now, because it’s a pretty big deal). While mine is nicely lightweight and utterly chuckable offroad, it’s quality of being kickstart only means it is impossible to restart on a hill and has led to me walking the bike down a grade several times. As for Gary, his is really a learner bike that was good to start with but is gutless and not very well suited to hardcore trail travel. So while we are still deciding on exactly what the final contest should be (got any ideas? Leave them on our Facebook page), we have decided what bikes we should be riding. And I’ve already bought mine. To be revealed next time…

Click here for Part 4 and a look at our new bikes!

The post The Bet – Overland Motorcycling Pt 3 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

For most citizens of these United States of Awesome, Thanksgiving Day is a 24 hour period of stuffing faces, throwing shade at relatives, and discreetly checking social media while the olds try to get everyone playing some board game. It’s an American tradition. And I’ll have nothing to do with it. No, for myself and my adversary/friend Thanksgiving 2015 was filled with sand, rocks, and Kielbasa. That’s right, we went overland motorcycling in Southern Utah to further our personal bet.

With 4 days away from the office to play with, we wisely chose to spend them offroading and camping in the high desert, complete with shit talking, s’mores, and red rocks. Fun! To be clear, up to this point we’d only been out 3 times on our bikes for about 4 hours at a time each. Just warmup rides really. And we’d be exhausted afterwards. So the prospect of 3 days with 8-12 hours of riding per day filled us (well at least me) with equal parts trepidation and concern. Nevertheless, we packed up our tents, marshmallows, and bikes and headed out of LA towards the border of Utah and Arizona.

6 hours later, we arrived at the edge of BLM land. Now the magic of the Bureau of Land Management is that they give exactly 2 flying squirrels what you do on their land. It’s federal land, so really it’s your land. And because the BLM is so over caring about their lands they are yours to do with as you please. Camp wherever you want, light a fire, blast away with guns, start a casino using only baby teeth as poker chips – literally most of these things are allowed. With that knowledge, and a bag of baby teeth, in hand, we pointed our car and trailer due East and drove up a dry riverbed into a secluded canyon and set up camp far away from any other humans.

Day 1 saw us exploring the various trails, canyons, and riverbeds of our little corner of wilderness. We took it fairly easy for the beginning of the day, with no jackassery from either of us. That would change. After lunch we trekked out to see some fossilized dinosaur tracks (over-hyped) and explore the trails of Arizona (under-hyped). Bikes were dropped, I can say that. With darkness closing in and us on small trails, we had a bit of time trying to find a road to get out of dodge before the desert sun disappeared and took it’s heat with it.

This bet is really a contest between two very different learning styles. My opponent Gary is all about that book-learning life. He will watch youtube videos and read articles in preparation for doing something, then go and practice that skill (and only that skill) until his next round of learning. Very stepwise and fairly risk free. I, on the other hand, prefer to throw myself into a new skill and fail – repeatedly and relentlessly – until I figure out a solution or have to go read on it if I’m truly stumped. I want to push my boundaries and never be comfortable to learn as rapidly as possible. At the outset of our contest, this put me in good stead. I was far ahead of Gary and feeling quite comfortable in my chances of winning next year. But now, oh but now, his book learning is catching up to my real-life learning. Gary is getting overland motorcycling skillz. Obviously this is worrisome to me. But there are still some rays of hope…

Day 2 brought the deep sand of Sand Hallow State Park. Acres and acres of deep rust-red sand populated by buggies and tourists. The sand challenged both of our skills and utterly destroyed our energy. After barely escaping and refueling the bike and ourselves, we tackled cattle tracks through the red rocks and practiced our hillclimbing skills. There have been many an accident already while trying to mount steep hills, so we leaned on some of Gary’s book learning to figure out how to do it correctly. I proceeded to confidently summit my first mini-mountain. He proceeded to treat that hill like his bitch and got about 7ft of air off the top. And land more gracefully than an angel bald eagle. I was, and am, jealous.

He and I have very different bikes for this first phase of the bet. While I did things properly and purchased a purpose-built race bike that had been jerry-rigged into a road legal bike, Gary went with a beginner dual-sport bike with not a lot of power and street-oriented tires. This difference in bikes is beginning to become a focus of excuses and whining from my opponent. And while his tires are certainly suboptimal compared to my big knoblies, I feel a less cowardly and more handsome rider like myself could champion his bike even the most challenging trails.

Day 3, our last day, was a near catastrophe and I loved every minute of it. In the spirit of my school of hard knocks, and to try and reclaim some confidence after Gary’s booky learning triumphed so well the previous day, I steered us up an extremely challenging single track road known as the Honeymoon Trail. Made up almost entirely of steep hills and loose house cat-sized rocks, not to mention steep cliff sides along every trail, this was a path not for the faint of heart. And faint hearts it turns out we have. I threw us up a very challenging trail to push our boundaries and move the learning needle forward, but it was beyond Gary’s books and videos so we turned around and tucked tail back towards flat ground.

After a regroup, we decided to take it easy and just hit some fun trails through the wilderness. However, at this point we are exhausted from days of riding and the previous trail. We have very little left in our physical tanks, and it is at this point that we start making lots of mistakes. Bikes were dropped again, with alarming frequency. We quickly found ourselves in the middle of nowhere with Gary’s bike loosing brake fluid and with bent brake, clutch, AND shift levers. We feared one more crash could break any or all of them, and attempted to get back to our campsite as quickly as possible. Easier said than done when in the middle of wilderness. All the trails headed in the wrong direction or where impassible (such as the way we had just come). After some deliberation and guilting, we forged our own path through the brush and riverbeds to find a trail out of wild and back to the main road. Our day, and trip, was over.

While there was some slight panic during this search for a path out, I’ve never felt more alive or involved in this challenge than I did that hour we were charging over unknown landscapes in search of a way out – moving as quickly as possible to race the sun, while not going so fast as to risk another crash of his bike and possible disaster. I loved every minute of it. It was no longer about fun, it was about doing what absolutely had to be done. It is a damn blast being in near danger, I highly recommend it. It may not be edge of catastrophe, but it is the edge of the edge, and I’ll take that for now.

Click here for Part 3 and our the full rules of the bet and a training montage!

The post The Bet – Overland Motorcycling Pt 2 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

During my commute to class, I felt quite comfortable and incredibly stable, even on a few more iced over inclines at the bus-stop. This level of versatility is nothing new from Ridgemont, yet is just as much of a pleasant surprise as the first time I came in contact with an Outfitters shoe: The Monty Hi. The Crest, in contrast, is significantly lighter, and although it offers comfortable ankle support, doesn’t quite match the level of the Monty – but then again, the Crest is a drastically lighter shoe that reminds more of the Southern California skate culture, and less so of the Colorado Rockies snow communities, the way the Monty does.

With Utah fitting right between the two, I took the liberty of introducing the Crests’ to some Utah habits to get a better understanding of their abilities: I stopped at home to drop by school backpack off, grabbed my board at the door, plugged my head into the newest Yeezy album, and went for a cruise. After blowing a few stop signs, sliding the board to a standstill to test the grip of the soles, and one or two emergency bails, I was sold this shoe could easily double as a quality skate shoe. As I boarded home and hopped on my motorcycle to study at the library, I continued to enjoy the Crest. It provided a rigid composite lasting board, combined with an Ortholite sole, making it stable enough for any hike, should you choose to throw one at it, but also comfortable after quite a few hours into the night studying at the library.

The Crest Hi is perfect for anyone needing improved ankle support and water proof grade construction, without having to sacrifice their steeze.

Under normal circumstances, you’d have to take your pick: active and capable but uncomfortable and uglier than your aunt’s Crocs, cool but only wearable during sunshine and blue skies, fashionable but flimsy, the list goes on an on of possible combinations that only sometimes are the right option.

With Ridgemont Outfitters, you’re able to find a shoe that meets all your needs without compromise, tailored to your particular style, that’s always the right option.

The post Ridgemont Outfitters Does it Again With the Crest appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

We store a handfull of bikes outdoors at our beach headquarters – the garage is too full of car projects – so security is always top of mind for our bikes. And any security expert will tell you that at least 75% of the battle is preventing an attempt from ever happening by appearing to be secure. You can’t get much more intimidating than the Lou Ferrigno-grade steel chain on the Ionus 1190 wrapped around your wheel.

But it’s not all looks. This chain is a full 11mm thick, comes wrapped in a nylon sleeve to prevent tools easy purchase (and protect your bike’s paint and chrome), and has an integrated locking mechanism harder to crack than Putin’s scowl. It’s tough is what I’m saying… But generally strength comes by paying the price with heavy weight, but not so with the Ionus. Built to be as leightweight as possible, this is a chain you can sling around your waist and ride without cutting off circulation to your favorite bits of yourself.

It will take a bike rustler with a serious angle grinder, a torch, or enough leverage to lift a small garage to get through this Abus motorcycle lock and get to your precious ride. While no security measure is ever 100%, the combination of this chain’s intimidatingly beefy looks and hardcore engineering means we feel safe with the FactoryTwoFour bikes out amongst the hobos and neerdowells of Venice Beach. If it can do that, it can protect you anywhere.

The post Chain Up Your Lover – Abus Motorcycle Lock Review appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

So by now we’ve gotten our Kawasaki, stripped it down, painted it, and added a new headlight and so go-faster F24 stickers. She’s looking pretty good, but not good enough yet. It is not yet exuding it’s urban tracker feel we’re going for. To that end, this week we got rid of the sparse black seat in favor of a more old-school leather affair and add the Iron and Resin tool roll we recently took a look at.

When we got it, this moto was covered in your standard offroad accoutrement like nasty and gummy grips, a Walmart handlebar pad, and a plain-jane black seat who’s better days had seen better days. This could not stand. We are good friends of the Travlr team, we did a review of their fantanstic GoPro case in June, so we reached out to them and asked for a little advice on leatherwork. Instead of hanging up on us like smart people, they stepped up big time and not only taught us how to work with cowhide (pro tip: burn your cuts with a lighter to remove rough edges), but also sent us out a huge piece of their buttery-soft leather to work with. Great guys! Now what to do with it?

First up, we’ve always wanted try wrapping the grips of a motorcycle like you do for the bars of a bicycle. I personally have never seen this (certainly not saying it doesn’t exist), and we had the itch to do it. So we did! We cut off 2 long strips of the Travler leather and wrapped them around the existing grips so there would be some give and cushion. Next up was the god-awful handlebar pad that was the kind of shiny plastic only drugstore Halloween costumes have any right to be. We kept the phone, but cut out a new leather square to go over it. Add in some velcro for easy on-and-off (just like the plastic protector) and that’s two of the three leather pieces done. Next up – the seat.

Now the first two projects were a doddle, but the seat was a much different, much bigger, much more complicated deal. To match the wrapped grips, and for something different than the standard quilted diamond pattern, we decided to do a series of strips running up towards the front. Rather than completely strip the current seat, we used the existing black pleather as a good base for our strips to adhere to without damaging the foam underneath. One at a time, we cut strips, glued them down, and set the next one at a precise measurement overlapping. In this manner, over the course of 2 hours or so, we had the seat pretty much completed. We even included a little 4″ loose strip near the top of the seat to tuck gloves or maps into, or just hold onto like at a rodeo…

As the pièce de résistance, we strapped on Iron and Resin’s excellent tool roll to the front forks to hold our tools/Pez dispensers while we are far in the backcountry. You don’t want to do without either of those in an emergency. The FactoryTwoFour bike is really coming together now. Sometime in the future, we may tackle a new exhaust and a custom front fender, but up next we tackle some modern LED lighting for night riding!

The post FactoryTwoFour Bike Build Part 3 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

And so it is that The Bet came to pass. Because my friend Gary and I share the same broken definition of friendship, we mostly bond over competing with one other over just about everything. Women, businesses, supermarket bills – it doesn’t matter. We’re like those old men you can find in the dark corners of any horse track who will and do bet on absolutely anything. Gary and I cannot be in the same room and not attempt to declare superiority of something or another. And then recently Gary had an idea:

What if we picked an extreme sport that neither of us had ever done, practice it for a year, then compete to see who is better at it? The winner is the best man for all time.

What a beautifully simple idea. It had the right amount of possible danger, adventure, and finality to it to firmly capture my interest. I agreed in principle, and we spent the next few weeks throwing absurd ideas like squirrel-suit sky diving and moose-wrangling back and forth. That is until one day when Gary came up to me with the same excitement in his eyes that he generally reserves for Mrs. Field’s ice cream sandwiches.

Offroad motorcycling. Overland backwoods trails stuff, getting from point A to point B without roads. Let’s do that!

Now is the point where I let you know that Gary has never been on a motorcycle, while I’ve ridden for years and owned several. My immediate answer was “YES” is what I’m saying. If he wanted to run this whole bet on something I already out-experience him on, so be it. To be fair, I had never taken a bike further offroad than a parking lot, but seeing as how he would have to learn how to ride a motorcycle before he ever touched dirt gave me a very confident feeling. Game on.

If you’ve been paying attention to FactoryTwoFour, you’ll know we bought an offroad racing Kawasaki. That was for The Bet. Now we’re building it up to destroy poor Gary and his Yamaha. We both bought our bikes on the same weekend, roughly Aug. 22nd. That means that on Aug 22nd 2016, there will be a reckoning. Let the best man win.

The Rules of the final showdown next year:

We will each compete in a neutrally sanctioned overland timed rally.

Whoever has shown himself to be the most skilled rider will be declared the winner. Skill will be determined as a combination of time, route, obstacles surmounted, and general bad-assery

2-wheels only – no sidecars/Urals

No passengers

Assistance from bystanders or each other is acceptable

If either party does not have a working machine at the time of the rally, it is the other man’s decision as to whether to postpone or declare an automatic loss.

Bike’s can be outfitted/traded in any way as the owner sees fit

Click here for Part 2 and our first major foray off the pavement - I promise 
it was painful for both of us...

The post The Bet – Overland Motorcycling Pt 1 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

When I first researched this machine, I understood the term “Streetfighter” to refer to the naked body style of the motorcycle – stripped of excess. Not until I first turned the key, pulled the clutch in, and pressed the starter, did I begin to understand what I had gotten myself into. The guttural growl of the Italian V-twin is unprecedented, and the rider cannot help but feel empowered by the immediacy at which you can transform this growl into a bellowing roar. The mere twitch of your wrist makes you aware you are piloting a machine whose name alludes to much more than simply the body-style.

“It couldn’t be that much more spectacular than my Kawasaki Ninja, right?” I thought to myself as I gingerly depressed the shifter down from neutral, engaging first gear. Moments later I enjoyed my first terrifying wheelie: I rolled on the throttle, and before I could say “porca troia! (holy sh*t)” was blasting down the asphalt with only one tire on the ground. With the help of adrenalin flowing through my body, I safely touched the front back down; in awe like never before.

The V-twin engine layout results in obscene acceleration capable of bringing the front wheel right up before you can comprehend that you’ve already broken every speed-limit in the country. Nothing could have prepared me for the breathtaking freedom this machine provided. A whim could transform my surroundings into a blur, scenery ever accelerating out of the corners of my eyes, perfectly in sync with the torrential roar escaping from the titanium exhaust system. The premium Brembo brakes and Oehlins suspension pieces help create an unexplainable trust and confidence in the machine, no matter how fast you’re coming up on “turn 4” during a therapeutic blast through the canyon.

Such a companion is rare to come by, and like any good friend, the Streetfighter always has your back when encountering another two-wheeled, or four-wheeled predator at a red light, always ready to lay down strips of rubber and tire smoke for your mutual amusement.

The post Ducati Streetfighter 1098 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

As I hit 4th gear bombing down the boulevard, it hits me that a vehicle doesn’t feel like mine unless I’ve made design decisions I have to defend. Mods and tweaks are fine, but until I’ve gone out on a limb and done something aesthetically that I’ve never seen before I’m not happy. Until then, I’m just piloting around some designers idea of good looks. But let’s backup.

A few weeks ago, I picked up an off road bike – a Kawasaki KLX 300R – to learn the art of dirt riding. In between sets in the backcountry, I would be occasionally driving the bike around town, so it also had to be somewhat streetable. So in short,  something completely antisocial and capable of all kinds of mischief.

As with most projects, this one would have to start with demolition before construction. Off came all the fairings and plastic. Gone are the SUPER RAD!!!!!1!! stickers and graphics. Let’s tone this beast down a notch. While at it, that headlight had to go. Square is for squares. I had something far more Mad Max in mind… Something like a salvaged Suzuki light from eBay, yellow film, and a rally cage. Stripped of everything, we started laying down some muted grey in healthy doses. I used more coats than was strictly necessary because this machine will be dropped frequently when off roading and needs to stand up to that abuse.

But grey and green does not a stylish bike make. No, I’d need some flair here (well, everywhere in my life really…). So I grabbed the vibrant blue I use on all my machines and got to adding some speed stripes and accents. That’s got to be good for at least 5hp right there.

While it’s apart and paint is drying, it’s an excellent time for a service. Oil, spark plugs, coolant, and a good chain lube are all done in between copious coats of primer grey and signal blue. Now I’ll have a smooth looking and smooth running little beast.

Major mods to the exhaust, seat, and possibly tank are coming, but for now the aesthetic changes will make this thing drivable around town without looking like a hillbilly who got lost. Gone are the massive front fender and headlight. Gone are the tribal stickers and bright colors. What remains is a design that I will defend as wholly my own. Next up is some custom leatherwork on the seat and a few other places, then on to trying our hands and creating a custom exhaust. Should be fun! But in the meantime, I present to you FactoryTwoFours off road tracker:

You can catch up with read Part 3 now!

The post FactoryTwoFour Bike Build Part 2 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

What we bought is a Kawasaki KLX300R. We choose this bike for a variety of reasons, listed below:

• It’s not a Honda CB something something. I.e., we can’t just bolt on parts to make something cool – we’ve got to actually fabricate. Which is cool.
• It’s a dual sport (or at least was converted into being road-legal by the previous owner), so we can ride anywhere and everywhere. Which is cool.
• Kawasaki is as close as I can get to my big Polish last name in a motorcycle manufacturer. Which is admittedly not cool at all, but my reasons are my own.

What we are going to do to it is as follows:

• NOT make a cafe or cruiser or chopper or bobber. Absolutely not.
• Make a badass offroad machine that is capable of scaling a mountain and still popping down the road for brunch on Sunday comfortably.
• Get rid of all the plastic and bright color scheme. We’re not Riff Raff, we like a more muted color scheme.
• Change out the seat, light, and exhaust. There will be countless other small tweaks that we’ll document along the way as we run into them.

Our custom KLX 300R will be ridden hard and dropped ruthlessly on back trails. It’s got to be able to put up with any and all abuse. But we are not interested in an offroad-only beast; we need an interesting bike with which to cruise around Los Angeles and upset small children. Follow along here as we build just such a machine.

You can read Part 2 now!

The post FactoryTwoFour Bike Build Part 1 appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

For those not familiar, Cleveland Cyclewerks is an independent motorcycle manufacturer out of, you guessed it, Cleveland, Ohio. They are creating some of the most unique mass-market bikes available today, and the Ace is their latest little barn stormer. While their Misfit has carried the café torch for a while now, the Ace comes to town as more of a “blank canvas” sled that will be any customizer’s dream. Even stock, it is remarkably café-like and ready to sport you and a cute passenger in retro style.

Even if you haven’t heard Cleveland, they’ve been around for years now pumping our fun bikes and engaging in the café community. Also, the motor they use is, for all intents and purposes, a continuation Honda engine so the internal engineering has been tested well over a billion miles and decades of travel. We haven’t ridden the Ace yet (coming soon…) but having spent some saddle time with the excellent Misfit, we fully expect the Ace to a fantastically fun little street fighter perfect for the urban commute and, you guessed it again, racing to the nearest café.

The post The Cleveland Ace Brings the Cool appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Last week we tried out the Element Case Ducati line, so  I gave them a ring and did my best poor college student impression while begging to try out their motorcycle mount. Nailed it. Soon I had their Zip Mount in my hands and a desire to hit the open road – only without getting lost this time. I hunkered down in my garage and prepared for the dirty and painful task of installing this piece of kit onto my mount. And you know what? It couldn’t have been easier. Do you know how to effectively work a zip-tie? Then you know how to install the Zip Mount. My dreams of struggling away in my garage with wrenches and dirty gloves while listening to classic rock dashed, I decided to hit the road.

In theory, what a motorcycle mount needs to do is exceedingly simple. It needs to hold on to my phone. In practice though, at 100mph, this simple task has never been so important. You’ve got to be able to trust that the mount is going to hold on to your precious Facebook machine, and that gentle reader is why you have me. To test these things out on my phone first. You’re welcome.

A couple of notes: The Zip Mount only slides into the Element Case Fuse Dek, which itself only fits onto the Rogue case we tested last week (at least out of the two cases we tested. I’m sure it fits onto other cases of theirs as well). With that realization, I installed my phone into the chunky Rogue case, installed that into the Fuse Dek mounting system/belt clip, and slid the whole contraption onto my bike mount. It sounds clunky, and is clunky to hold, but once installed it looks pretty minimal.

Enough dillydallying, let’s get this mount on the road. My phone didn’t immediately fall when I set off, nor did it drop  when I picked up to 25mph. Still solid at 35 and 45mph. So far so good. 55 and 65 came and went with no issues as well. Now, 65mph is the legally-recognized top speed in the great state of California so I couldn’t possibly tell you how I ramped up to a heady 100mph on my local streets to test the Zip Mount. For science. Nope, couldn’t possibly tell you about that or at attacking intersection corners to test with some lateral G-forces. That would be irresponsible and downright dangerous of me. So I won’t tell you about any of that *alleged* activity. But you’ll be safe to assume that this mount will hold up to canyon carving and street fighting use.

If I’m honest, I’ve been trying to rely on turn-by-turn navigation less and less. I find I don’t remember how I got to places or how to get back if my little hand computer is telling me everything. But this motorcycle mount certainly made a case for itself and I have already found myself wishing it were there now that I’ve uninstalled the tester Element Case provided. If I continue being honest, it’s likely that I’m going to forget to send it back…

The post Mount Up! Let’s Test an iPhone at 100mph appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.