From The Archives:

Some random Key West pictures from summer a few years ago. Seems suitable for a quiet, no word Sunday.

My Czech Friend, A Jawa 350 Hack

                                                                                   

Years ago when I was a youngster riding exotic Italian motorcycles in England there were quite a few cheap East European imports, MZ two strokes from East Germany and Jawa motorcycles from Czechoslovakia. The Berlin Wall came down and all the economic advantages of Communist imports evaporated with the countries they came from. Except...MZ came back as a German brand with modern machines and were even imported briefly to he US. Jawa on the other hand is still going strong with a niche market in England, much the way the Indian brand Royal Enfield is creating its own niche in the First World. Of course a two stroke 350cc twin is not going to set the US on fire  but when I saw this picture on Real Classics I was reminded once again how nostalgic I am getting about motorcycles in my old age. A Jawa 350 is good for 80 miles per hour flat out, but with a sidecar, I wonder if it will cruise at 60? Cheyenne and I aren't lightweights either...

If you desire three wheels on your wagon and are seeking traditional style, then F2 Motorcycles have just the job: their new Jawa Retro Sidecar Combination. This uses the current Jawa 350 Retro two-stroke motorcycle matched with a purpose-designed all-steel sidecar. The sidecar is mounted high and with very little axle lead, a set-up much loved back in the golden days of the sidecar. Back then bikes were relatively slow, so lightweight, low speed steering was more important than high speed straight line stability. Modern sidecars tend to be mounted lower and much further forward, but F2 wanted to recreate the feel as well as the look of yesteryear's outfits.

The outfit as pictured costs  6200 pounds in England, almost ten grand in the US, though I have noticed over the years that prices tend to be equal in each market so I'd like to think that in the US if this delight ever came here -not likely!- it might cost $6200. That would be interesting... And if you are in the tiny minority that might agree check this page out: Jawa UK

                                                       

My buddy Jiri, he who keeps my two wheelers  running at his shop on Stock Island grew up near Brno in Czechoslovakia under Soviet rule and he longed for the bikes I was able to see and ride in the West. Nowadays he likes to ride on the track at Homestead  and elsewhere and his engine of choice is a four cylinder Japanese classic style. He is not fond of two strokes, so while he thinks my preference for the twin cylinder Bonneville is eccentric, my desire for a two stroke Vespa fills him with horror. I call it my Trabant, the infamous two stroke East German car, the greatest wheels a Communist citizen could aspire to in the years before 1989. 

So, yes, my desire for Jawa 350 Retro is  nothing more than a fantasy. but for those too young to remember two stroke touring bikes, simplicity was their virtue, and the older I get the more simplicity seems desirable. Hence my desire for my two stroke Vespa, which I hope will become real in a  few short weeks.

Out With The Old, In With The New

Our home is empty, we have flown the nest, that housed us for the past decade. Good bye little tree house.

The interior one bears only the anonymous improvements my wife oversaw, new sheet rock on the walls properly painted, bamboo flooring properly scratched by Cheyenne.

A kitchen we never got round to modernizing and that towards the end showed signs of a lot of wear.

The exterior too needs attention, but we were loathe to spend money on a project the bank was unwilling to renegotiate with us.

It was a long hard slog, taking down the pictures, moving the detritus of twenty years of marriage and ten of occupancy.

We were lucky that the heavy lifting coincided with a two week period of cool breezes and low humidity.

Cheyenne throughout hung on to her habits, staying in her favorite spots while mournfully watching us dismantle our lives.

I suspect she was dumped at the SPCA as her military family packed for their move out of Key West and the prospect of jail loomed large in her mind, as the furniture and fittings disappeared...

She is adapting to her new home and as the days go by and she resumes her routine in a new place and she seems to be calming down. Mind you we humans are also learning to adapt to the monumental changes wrought upon us.

They say boats take maintenance but let me tell you fiberglass is indestructible in salt air. Wooden houses are not...termites, spalling, warping, you name it.

The realtor had a reputation which preceded her, so in proper local tradition she won a nickname in my head as I tried to vote with her. Cruella was as brusque as she was tart and not in a good way, so I suppose it's little wonder she works for the banks as buying a house from her would require a buyer with a hide as thick as an elephant's. We got the house empty and clean well before the eviction deadline.

My wife said the hardest part was saying good bye to the bits she had overseen herself. I remember the old Cuban tile layer was seriously puzzled when we asked him to put random fish tiles we had found into the new bath tub design...but he got into when we handed them to him and you'd him to stick them in at random. He got a laugh out of that.

750 square feet isn't a lot to empty but it was full of our life.

The new place is bigger and has a fantastic loft where we can store crap we aren't immediately using, winter clothes and motorcycle parts and the like. I live in hope that our drawers and shelves will be less crammed with stuff.

Indies Zroad had a lovely view across the salt ponds to the west on a Ramrod Key. That we shall miss.

My wife thought the realtor brought us here in 2004 at sunset to admire the view, and maybe she's right.

In the debris I found a picture of me with no gray hair and my cruising mentor Bob Unanski, who died not long after he stopped sailing. We met in Mexico in 1998 and sailed together on and off through Central Anerica to Panama from California. He helped us through the canal and we sailed together through the mosquito coast of the Western Caribbean. His widow has remarried and we last saw Barb happy in a new inland relationship in Arkansas. This picture taken before a sunset cruise in Key West brought back a flood of memories. We were so different in our backgrounds, and politics, and so similar in our sense of humor and curiosity.

Out with the old! Away with the barbecue from this deck...

To its new home on another deck:

Cheyenne is not a huge fan of stilt house living:

And unfortunately the new place us a bit higher off the ground with more steps. But she is still game, good girl:

The canal at our place was an absolute highway filled with yahoos playing loud music and kicking up wakes as they roared by all day in clouds of exhaust smoke.

Even on Memorial Day weekend our new canal is hardly rippled by the passage of any boats which means a quick swim before work is much more possible. The house on the corner is not occupied.

I will miss the wide open area under the house, our new place has less room but adequate. Indies Road was extravagant:

We were lucky to get the new place, a combination of factors were at play including my wife monitoring Craig's List all the time. She sent in our application 12 minutes after the ad appeared. Then we agreed to see the place that evening. A cop lives two doors down and he gave our landlord a recommendation. And we had five grand ready to move in. The rental market is brutally tight, even in the Lower Keys and we are very lucky as our landlord who lives in Miami is very pleasant and decent and Cheyenne is welcome.

The boxes are moved but the process of organizing will take several more days.

Slowly does it, as things find a home, then my wife ponders the choice, makes a change and tries again. My Asperger's is screaming but I keep reminding myself this state of confusion isn't permanent and we are working toward a goal.

Finally Cruella was satisfied and we got a check to vacate which my wife says can go in part toward the annual tune up of the Bonneville, on which subject of motorcycle riding, the new home means a shorter commute, by four miles and close to ten minutes for me.

It has taken time and energy but in the end we count ourselves lucky inasmuch as our new place will be comfortable and offers a serene and enjoyable place to live. You may remember I was musing about living in Key West itself months ago when it became apparent this change was in the offing, but I actually enjoy my commute with views over the water and a daily chance to take my motorcycle or my scooter out for a ride. Rents are cheaper out here, not by much but you get full sized homes on full sized lots with full modern conveniences.

Add to that the ambient silence, the access to saltwater, the ease of parking, the low crime rate and to me this is what Keys living is about. A beer on my deck is cheaper than a beer at Sloppy Joe's, and the view is better.

Well, it will be once we get organized!

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Summer, A Time For Cannon Or Kayaks.

Memorial Day is come and gone and soon schools will be out and those families with bread winners still employed will take vacations. Till then there is parking, you can drive Highway One in the not entirely unreasonable expectation of not being held at or below the speed limit and visits to the grocery store are likely to be an easy amble among friends and less like a competitive shopping show on television.

The newspaper says the Boulevard is supposed to be finished in less than two months, but for now when I come into town I usually take Flagler to First Street to avoid interminable lines. But homeward the way out of town is usually clear on the Boulevard at six in the morning, so I use the wreckage of the main drag to start the 23 mile ride to Cudjoe Key. Which route takes me past the photo above. The cannon at the VFW post isn't actually there to test the theory that at certain times of year you can shoot it and not hit anyone. Or if it is, I've never seen it used that way.

I sought out certain pictures during my lunch break for an online game of scooter tag, which ends up seeing me taking pictures in the dark owing to my devotion to organizing the new house in daylight hours. Above the conch shell at Key West High School and below one more Cuban coffee shop, authentically Cuban, as though a corner of Havana in Habana Plaza. During the day old Cuban dudes sit and watch the world go by as they are served bucchis by another grumpy looking Cuban dude. They actually remind me of the bars in the villages of my childhood. I'd pull up on my Vespa looking for an ice cream cone and all the old Italian men would swivel their heads in unison to stare down the teenager and his noisy scooter. It's four decades later and a different continent but nothing much has changed. When I lived on a boat I did my laundry next door and they stared at me just as much. If you want a coffee shop tourists don't know about...here it is, miles from the mainstream.

Summertime is swimming time. My neighbors, who are nice -what a concept!- tell me the canal is good for fishing and swimming. I've seen a fair number of mangrove snapper but they are safe from me as I am no angler. Desperation may one day make me a fisherman, but not yet. Robert has helped me move by loaning me his big trailer and taking my ignored boat and motor under his wing. He tells me next week we may be launching...the summer is looking good!

Cheyenne is settling into our new home and my wife is getting her kitchen organized and, did I mention it? I am looking forward to summer in the Keys.

 

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