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Old 02-09-2012, 05:07 PM   #106
Ponies ate my Bagel
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We can't let this die...

This is an awesome idea, I'm in the younger camp so I don't need one (yet). However this is an awesome idea and it needs to be seen to the end. I'm hoping you'll be able to find somebody to pick up the reigns, as once I don't feel like using a tent (or in my case a hammock) I will want one of these!

If this stalls out completely for you shoot me a PM, I'd really like to see these produced one day.
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Old 05-03-2012, 10:41 AM   #107
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Any Updates????
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Old 05-16-2012, 12:32 PM   #108
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Update

Well, I guess an update is in order. My third committed manufacturer, after having his engineer evaluate my rig, has backed out. His plant makes handicap bath and shower inclosures. He was to make spud with fiberglass. The sticky point, as with the previous manufacture's evaluation was bumping the MSRP to accommodate retailers. Couldn't get his head around the fact that there are no retailers of motorcycle trailers and they are shipped from the factory to the public, or picked up at the factory. So I've about exhausted all my leads here around Boise's small pond.

It's always, “That's the neatest thing I've seen... but.” Fully half of the trailer manufacturers I contacted have folded up in the past two years. So my effervescent enthusiasm has gone flat. I've given up on having the rig made here in Idaho. I was going to run my spud out to some major bike events to show it to vendors but the IRS was kind enough to slap a lean on my SSD, Vets Disability, and Oregon PERS Retirement to the tune of 20% of my fixed income so I'm looking to run out to a couple smaller, closer events here in the NW. That path that began to be beat to my front door seems to be overgrown with weeds this spring.

If I'm still spinning my wheels by July I'll hit the pawn shop and have to run out to Elkhart, IN, RV capitol of the world, and start door-knocking.

Still been out and about having fun with spud.





















One thing I found about pulling a trailer... rear tire wears a bit quicker. My current bike has large old school Indian-wannabe-finders. It's a long way down for this old man to get a peek at the rubber's tread, so I feel with my fingertips to monitor wear. Last week it felt fuzzy. This is a prime example of how much more important simple things become with a bike. A few days earlier I crept the speed-o needle up to three digits to “blow out a little carbon”. Stupidity can be very unforgiving on a bike-- a blowout on a back road lined with power poles at that speed could have been the most unforgiving and selfish thing I'd have ever done to my family. Sorry, Babe.

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Old 05-22-2012, 02:03 PM   #109
slyeager
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I'm glad to see it's still in the works and you're having fun with Spud II.

I'm heading on a four day trip this weekend, most likely to the tip of Maine from central PA. (the direction depends on the forecast though). I'll have to use the two man tent this trip but I'm not giving up on owning one of these damn things yet......lol

Keep at it and please keep us posted.

Did Spud III ever come together?
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Old 05-27-2012, 11:31 AM   #110
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I'm also curious about the progress of Spud III.....

It's a great design concept and I hope you don't lose the fire with some of the recent letdowns!

I would love to pull one behind my Kingquad,for some backcountry hunts/camping. I don't think my CT110 would be able to pull it offroad with any authority,lol.

Good luck Papa Yolk!
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Old 06-06-2012, 08:56 AM   #111
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“Networking,” says Babe. “Get out and start a buzz going around the valley about the old fart with the bed behind his bike. Learn to socialize. Riding out to the sticks won't show off your invention. Rub elbows with other bikers, not just businessmen. You can't network riding out in the sticks.”

“Yes, love.”

“ And try not to look so mean.”

“Mean? I'm a Teddy Bear.”

“You always look mad.”

“Maybe I should thin my eyebrows.”

I like places, things and people, in that order. Maybe it's the pondering that makes me look mean, especially when pondering why some people are so stupid. I can be friendly. Made a friend a few years back. Lifer Bob. Mean as a snake, tell you to your face, Bob. He died of a heart attack in his sleep while his legs were running under the sheets to the sound of the guns.

So I gave it a try.




Swung my kickstand down between a Victory and a Goldwing. Even with Spud tailing behind, my 800cc twin looked small, cute, like the dye-cast tin motorcycle I played with as a kid: two stamped out halves held together with bent over tabs. Leather clad “bros” glared, eyebrows pulled down under their doo-rags, looking mean. My little Drifter is de-badged. They were just pondering.

I popped spud open, sat down to stow my Feidshear and swap my full to an open-face helmet. My leather doesn't have any rockers on the back, not even a bottom only like the Prospect hawking raffle tickets, but I did stitch my old blue and gold Cub Scout den number on one arm and white on red rocker “Midway City” on the shoulder.

“Midway City?”

“We all live in Midway City, Bro.” The metaphor gets some to arch the brows like Stan Laurel, but most smirk, reconsigning me as a pretentious ass. I once borrowed a tee shirt from a marine in Key West. “I'm nether for or against apathy.” it proclaimed. It was my favorite tee, she never got it back.

I got the “Wows” and “Great idea” I've become used to when riders see spud, and the obligatory “You should take it on Shark Tank. But no sign of my fantasy benefactor with one hand in his deep pocket and the other stroking his chin. Payed the man at the table and confessing to being a noob ask what we do.

“We ride, Bro. Put your name on the raffle ticket, roll the dice at the bars. Shot gun start.”

“OK.”

I passed on the pancakes being flipped on an outdoor grill and snagged some coffee and donuts and sat watching knots of chatting men, some with firearms on their hips. It took me back over forty years. The uniforms were different, mostly leather and denim, and unit insignia unfamiliar: Vietnam Vets, Legacy Vets, Patriot Guard Riders- but the whiff of comradeship brought memories of chow halls and Quonset huts long gone. Old gray beards and young bucks all standing together on common ground.

I left the Fire House Pub and followed a clump of bikes down the highway to Kuna, running ten to twenty mph over the limit. Alone, I would plod along the back roads checking out the "goats for rent" signs or wispy clumps of ditch asparagus for any late shoots. But today I was running with a pack, following an old Vet with a cane and his young sidekick, Corncob. I rolled the dice at the Red Eye Saloon and loitered on the corner watching the other riders pull in.





When a pack of about thirty started off to the Pour House in Marsing, I rode tail. Following along the Snake River on Map Rock road we rumbled past said rock a few yards off the side of the road. Nomads have used this route from the last ice age. There is a petroglyph of a giant three toed sloth, extinct for 10k years. “Socialize, old man,” I here my Babe scolding in the back of my mind... “People are more important than places.” But it's a freaking prehistoric rendering, I hear my mind reply.

The bar is packed. I have a glass of water, roll the dice, and ride down to the filling station to pee, rather than wait in line. I gave in to the role-playing of billy-bad-ass on the last leg and stowed my lid, letting my shoulder length hair wave in the breeze. A silly duff with the ratted and knotted gray hair of one who sleeps behind a dumpster stares back at me from the restroom mirror.

With my lid on, I take off alone (Babe will never know) to Victors Hogs & Horns in Caldwell. Soon a staggered formation of vets comes up. Like a lemming I fall into formation dragged along behind. Victors is roomy. I roll the dice and set at the bar and have a beer, then another. A young vet comes up and leans on the bar to order, looks at me and says, “Cheer up, Bro. It's a great day out.” Crap. I was pondering again.

“Rub elbows,” Babe says in the back of my mind. I move down the bar checking elbows and spot a gray beard's arm well covered with tats. On his elbow is Sigmund Freud in profile. This will do. “I see you have Freud on your elbow,” I pipe up.

“No, man. Look at the light part.” As I squint, a reclining naked lady appears. “Saw it on a bar wall in Mexico.” I follow some vet's packing women down the freeway to the Airport Inn in Nampa. I'm starting to get the hang of this. I head right in and order a beer. I forget to roll the dice. By now the music and bikers are getting louder. I set back and watch them having fun. Socializing. I catch a glimpse of myself on the back bar. I'm smiling.

Back at the Fire House Pub in Meridian I sip another beer and munch a cheese burger. The V V's prospect is getting horse yelling out raffle numbers above the din. Tee shirts and grab bags are randomly tossed at the crowd. One vet wins a metal slant top Corona beer cooler. “I don't want it. It's made in Mexico.” The final ticket is drawn, the one everyone who registered for the ride got. The winner is not here, but they have her address and she will get the new stub nose 38.

Outside the band starts up. I head out to my ride to start my 40 miles to home. The thought occurs to me that I really like these strange leather clad people and the party is just getting started. Too many beers and I could just sleep in my spud. “Let's not socialize too much,” I here my babe say in my head.

“Yes, love.” I start plodding toward home along the back roads.

-------------------------------------------------

Well, I had planed to go up to the Hell's Canyon Rally in Baker with a production quality rig to show off this year, but thanks to the IRS it's gona be old Spud II, a borrowed tank of gas and camping on the side of road. One of my boys, the I.T. guy, has taken pity on me and is working up a cyber blitz-pitch to go out to all the pull-behind manufactures, so hope is not dead.

My front tire looks to have a few hundred more miles on it but I had to put new rubber on Spud. My 8" wheels with 16" of rubber wore out around 6k miles. I also sprung for a new set of ear plugs as I will be hanging with the "loud pipes" crowd.
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Old 06-07-2012, 10:01 AM   #112
Egads1
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If you have the time and desire take your "Spud" to the United Sidecar National Rally in Cour d'Alene, Idaho, the weekend of July 19-22. You may find some interested buyers or investors there. Good Luck.
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Old 06-20-2012, 08:53 AM   #113
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Originally Posted by Egads1 View Post
If you have the time and desire take your "Spud" to the United Sidecar National Rally in Cour d'Alene, Idaho, the weekend of July 19-22. You may find some interested buyers or investors there. Good Luck.
Thanks for the tip. Wish I could make it, but saving for a new front tire just now.

Here's a VIDEO of how spud works.



.
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PapaYolk screwed with this post 06-28-2012 at 08:36 AM
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Old 06-20-2012, 09:44 PM   #114
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Very Nice!
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Old 07-21-2012, 02:59 PM   #115
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update

Quote:
Originally Posted by Aarrff View Post
Very Nice!
Thanks Aarrff.

I'm pulling Spud west, across OR tomorrow. I'll be meeting with a tear-drop manufacturer who builds some sweet teardrops. He seems to get it... that there is a market for my little rig. Fingers crossed that he may be "the guy". Will be sleeping under the stars somewhere between Bend and Oakridge.

I've pulled Spud over 6000 miles in the last ten months and she may be ready to retire. It's been fun sleeping out in my rig built from scrap and crap from Home Depot, but it will be cool to see a unit put together by a pro. Wish me luck.
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Old 07-22-2012, 03:30 PM   #116
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Couldn't turn around in time

I was in Eastern Oregon (I think it was Ontario) on Friday afternoon and saw you and the Spud going through town. We waved at each other but I was unable to make a u-turn at the time and was unable to catch up with you after I could turn around. I was on the end of an almost 4 week bike trip covering 14 states. I have been following this thread with much interest and would love to see it (the Spud) in production.
I live in Keizer, near Salem, so if you are in the area and need a place to stay, I will have a bed,bath and meal for ya, just send me a P.M.
Steve
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Old 07-25-2012, 12:32 AM   #117
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Originally Posted by wing_r View Post
I was in Eastern Oregon (I think it was Ontario) on Friday afternoon and saw you and the Spud going through town. We waved at each other but I was unable to make a u-turn at the time and was unable to catch up with you after I could turn around. I was on the end of an almost 4 week bike trip covering 14 states. I have been following this thread with much interest and would love to see it (the Spud) in production.
I live in Keizer, near Salem, so if you are in the area and need a place to stay, I will have a bed,bath and meal for ya, just send me a P.M.
Steve
Yep, was in town doing a little shopping for Babe before my trip. Back home today without Spud. Left her in Springfield with Jayson, the owner of Cozy Cruiser Mfg. I'm handing off exclusive production rights to a pro via a patent licensing agreement. Now it's his baby, as soon as we tidy up the paperwork. His crew are real craftsmen and I'm sure his units will be just as fine as his top of the line full-size teardrops.





Seemed odd climbing back over the Cascade Mountains without Spud tailing along behind.
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Old 07-25-2012, 10:59 AM   #118
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This is amazing hope to get updates!!!!!
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Old 07-25-2012, 02:14 PM   #119
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When I was a lad there were service stations where men in hats and ties would scurry around dad's car, spraying and wiping glass, popping the hood, wiping the dip stick, and pumping gas. If it was a fill-up we would often be offered a free drinking glass or dinner plate to add to a set. Those long ago memories came flooding back when I stopped for gas in Bend, Or.



Sometimes things "retro" can be improved upon.



I remember this place, over fifty years back. Dad bought a cut and polished thunder-egg here and proudly shared it with Uncle Loyd, chief of police in Burns. Loyd laughed at dad's paying five bucks for a rock and said he could take us to where they could be dug up like spuds. The next day we spent a couple hours bouncing along and eating dust in a Willys Overland. We brought back a half filled ash can of golf to soft ball sized geodes. When we got home to Cal., dad bought a rock saw and started cutting. When he found some with agate or amethyst inside he was hooked, became a rock-hound. It was great. He bought a jeep. Every other weekend we would grind out onto the Mojave following a hand drawn map picked up at a rock-swap-meet or printed in a rock-hound publication and hunt treasure. As he wasted away in bed out at the VA hospital years later, he was still working stone, chipping bits of the fire from precious opals and dropping them into little glass bulbs filled with glycerin, making earrings.

Mom married a jerk afterwards. We moved to Florida, but before we left I had all dads rocks, that were to be left behind, hauled over to my best friend's house; 1/4 ton of childhood treasures. We spread them through his pop's well manicured flowerbeds and around his fish pond. I kept all the petrified sharks's teeth and arrowheads.

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Old 07-31-2012, 07:25 AM   #120
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glad I stopped in for an update, great writing/thoughts as always PY!
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