The Agony of Defeat

Boy, am I in pain. Yesterday, when I fell, I know my arm would be sore from the scrape. I hadn’t expected the pain I have in my shoulder. My guess is that the shock of the impact must have travelled up my arm and affected something in my neck and shoulder. I don’t think it’s a bone, because the pain is more of a muscular one. However, I am finding it hard to even move my arm. Last night, I felt like that ski jumper at the start of the old Wide World of Sports.

But, enough of my whining. The guy who came yesterday said it was the best bike he had seen, as he was travelling to see several. But I haven’t heard back. He was going to see some more, so I assume he saw a better bike later in the day. I had another guy email me, asking to put a deposit on the bike and would pay in full in a few weeks. He is willing to buy it sight unseen. If I don’t sell by Friday, it is his for the taking.

Wow, even typing this is causing my arm to seize.

Thrills & Spills

Well, a motorcycle has a way of teaching you to respect it. That’s for sure. Today, I did some work on it with regard to the exhaust, as there was some smoke coming from the engine. Not difficult, but took some time. Anyway, I decided to ride it a bit so I could be sure everything was fine. And it was.

But I began to get too confident. Stupidly, I did not wear a jacket out riding, though thankfully I was wearing jeans… And, of course, my helmet. I tried riding more quickly and found I had no troubles on the straight roads. Usually, when I corner, I slow right down. But I was getting sure of myself, so I took the corner more quickly that I had in the past. I must have over-steered, because I went down quickly. I got up right away and told a gentleman that had come over to help that I was fine. I rode away with my dignity laying on the pavement. Now, I have fallen from a bicycle while going faster than this, but I still could have injured myself. Thank God for helmets. I will never understand those that do not want to wear them. My arm took the worst of it. There is a nice scrape on my right arm and a smaller one on my hip. No damage to my head, though… No more than I had already, anyway!

This reinforced my decision to take a safety course, because it was a total rookie mistake.

The guy who emailed to see my bike showed up. He likes the bike but is going to see some others. He'll call soon, says he.

So, back to the waiting game.

Doing the Wave

Well, I can’t resist the feeling anymore. I am absolutely hooked. I love riding motorcycles! Twice I was riding today around my neighbourhood, taking the bike up to sixty KPH. I received my first ‘we’re both bike, so let’s pretend like we are friends’ wave from another rider on a Ninja. I tried to wave in such a way as not make it obvious that I was thrilled. It was a cool little flick in his direction… But I wanted to give him a great, flapping wave I was so excited. It didn’t last long, however, as I passed a guy on some great, honking Harley-Davidson. I gave him a larger, excited, goofy wave, but he just ignored me. I guess my dinky, light-blue Honda wasn’t good enough compared to his great chunk of American metal. So much for the biker fraternity...

My wife and I have been talking quite a bit about it. She is still concerned but recognizes that I really enjoy this and that I am, by nature, a cautious person. So, she has accepted that I will ride.
As for the bike, it handles well although I still have some trouble getting it back into first. I am also a little hesitant about coming out of first from a stop. I didn’t stall today, but felt a shudder at times. And the bike revs a bit high when I stop and idle at stop signs.

The bike is a good size. It handles easily and quickly. I really can’t see the need for large displacement motorcycles. I never intend to ride on major highways and don’t see myself taking long trips with tons of gear and passengers. Perhaps as I get more used to it, I might want more, but I think that the light weight of the bike is better than the weight of a big displacement bike. Most of the world rides smaller bikes. Can’t see why North Americans are so obsessed with big bikes.

But, I have decided that I really am going to sell the bike. I want to take the safety course and can’t afford it without selling the bike. So, it has to go. I have someone coming tomorrow to look at it. I hope to sell it then take my course next week or the week after. In the future, I will look to buy a newer bike. I’ve enjoyed fixing the bike, but I think I like riding more.

Ridin’ & Fixin’; Fixin’ & Ridin’

Rocker cover bolts were in and I had fun bopping around the neighbourhood. However, I still see some oil leaking. I will have to break down and use the gasket I bought earlier int eh project. I had been holding off, as I thought if I had the proper bolts, I wouldn’t get the leakage. Also, I may have a bit of leakage at the cylinder head. Its hard to tells. It isn’t much but I want to deal with it. The problem is that I don’t want to give up riding around on the bike.

One other problem is that connection between the engine and the exhaust pipes is not eh greatest and exhaust is coming out straight from the engine. Checking closer I realized that I have four different types of bolts holding the pipe to the engine. And the exhaust is not secure against the engine. I have ordered more parts. Like the bolts previously, they are not expensive, but it adds up. And as well, each time I do work, the joy of riding slips away. I will have to wait until next Wednesday for the new bolts and to see if I can correct this problem.

I still haven’t done the safety inspection. Money & tine are the greatest of thieves.

Isn't It Ironic?

The juxtapositions that life likes to throw around just continue to hit me. I sold my parts bike on Saturday. On Sunday, I was doing some work and realized that one of the shoulder bolts that secure the rocker cover in place was broken. It was sheared completely. I was looking for the reason why there was some oil leakage and this is probably why. Anyway, it was then that I realized that that parts I would need had left just the day before. The bolts aren’t expensive; only about $3 a piece. However, it required ordering and waiting. It took until today to get the parts in. Installing them took no time…

And off I went for a ride around the neighbourhood. Now, the bike still hasn’t been safetied or licensed. So, I don’t want to go far. But, even going around the block is fun. I still tend to stall out from stop signs. And I know I am not stopping properly. I tend to drag my feet. And I haven’t got the habit of using the rear brake regularly.

Other than that, I am doing well.

The bike is still for sale, but I have had no real interest. I may have to drop the price soon, but I am hesitant as I am enjoying riding it. And my wife has told me she can accept me riding. More to consider….

Parting Out II

I can see why auto theft can be profitable. You can make good money stripping parts and selling them off. I sold off my parts bike today. I bought it for $100, with extra parts. So far, I have made $270 from it, along with keeping a large assortment of parts I need for my bike. The rims, tires, wring harness, stator and flywheel that I have on my bike all came from the parts bike. I wish my retirement investments were as lucrative. Maybe I’ll go into the scrap business when I retire. The new add is on Kijiji without the parts bike.

Parting Out

No sooner did I post yesterday’s blog update than I started to receive emails are leading to something. Not exactly what I was looking for, but in the right direction. In a way, it is saddening, in that all the interest has been in my parts bike. I sold off the ignition coil yesterday. Someone is coming tomorrow to look at buying the parts bike in total. If I get my asking price, I will have made almost 3 times what I paid for it. And I would still have many great parts for my bike.

I have to admit that I am having second thoughts about selling. My wife has asked me if I am sure I want to sell. She is feeling better, since some time has now separated her from the accident. But, I know she would still be very uncomfortable with me riding.

But for me, the allure remains…

Death of a Salesman

I know I could never have been successful in retail or sales. Customers would just drive me nuts. I deal with people all the time, but in education I am dealing with something important. When you are dealing with a parent, you learn to put up with a lot because their children so important to them.

I couldn’t do that in sales, because it just isn’t that important. And I think, because it isn’t vital, people actually waste more time at it. I love Kijiji, as I have said before. And I have sent questions to people in the past about items and then not pursued them. But I have never bombarded people with questions when I had no real intent to buy. And that is what I feel is happening. Guys are on line, dreaming about a bike and sending out questions as part of their dreaming.

Not idle questions either. Details and long rambling responses to my answers. I have had one guy email me over ten times with question after question, often repeating himself. I kept thinking about that character in the movie Notting Hill who repeatedly comes into Hugh Grant’s travel book shop asking for novels by Charles Dickens and John Grisham. I have spent my fair share of time wandering through bike shops day-dreaming, but I have never approached a salesperson to ask questions, knowing I had no real intent to buy. I figured I was wasting my time with the daydream, but what was the point of wasting someone else’s time.

So far I have had no serious offers on the bike, although I have had interest in my parts bike and parts from that bike. People should be coming tonight to have a look.

Life Is A Funny Old Thing...

Life has a way of not flowing according to plan. Yesterday was a fine example of that.
I took the bike over to the high school near me. Its only a couple of blocks away and the parking lot is empty on weekends. Well, I was off like a rabbit, zipping around the parking lot. It surrounds the school and has many areas for turning. It is cut regularly with speed bumps and has several very large pot holes. So, it allowed for some fun maneuvering. Sections are long enough that I could take the bike up to 60 kph with no concern. The bike braked well and handled great. I was amazed at how easily I could ride it. I was able to shift through the gears, brake and downshift at the same time and take corners at various speeds. I was having a ball.
Then I saw my son ride up on his bicycle. He had been out with my wife shopping and I just assumed he had come back and ridden over to see what I was up to. But then I saw his face. He had an unusual look of concern. My son is sixteen. He is great kid and will be a fine man in a few years, but he isn’t prone to displaying too many emotions.

“You’re in trouble,” he said to me as I pull to a stop beside him. Right then, I assumed he’s trying to pull my leg. The straight face… The curt warning… I figured his mother had sent him with some plan to get my goat. So, I relaxed and asked why, waiting to here some story about how I had done something wrong at home.

“Mom saw an accident total and she’s upset,” My son said and his tone told me that this is no joke.

“What happened?” I thought she had been in an accident for a moment.

“We were coming out of Walmart and a motorcycle got hit by a truck.,” he said.

Now I knew why I was in trouble.

My wife has never been happy about this project. She has legitimate concerns about the safety of motorcycles. She knows I am cautious. But she has no trust for the traffic that will be around me. She has tolerated this project reluctantly, knowing that it has brought me immense happiness (Despite all the frustrations) and has seen that my tinkering with the bike has brought me a level of contentment. But I knew that was about to change.

So, I began the long trip home, making my way through a park pushing the bike. Two blocks can be a long way when you anticipate a problem.

I parked the bike in the garage and came in to the house, waiting to hear about the accident. My wife was on the couch, talking with our daughters. She stopped to say hi, but went on with her conversation. Her exterior was calm, but I know her. We have almost twenty-five years together, so I don’t need many visual clues to know when she is upset. I went up to the bedroom and she followed a few minutes later.

“You saw an accident?” I asked.

“Yes.” She was quiet and sounded as if she didn’t want to go any further.

“Tell me about it.”

She didn’t look at me. She is usually a very direct woman. Its one of the things I admire about her. But she couldn’t look at me. She said they had been driving through the parking lot of the local shopping centre, moving from Walmart to the Future Shop. There is a secondary highway that runs by the stores. In the background, she was aware of the sound of a big bike, like a Harley. Suddenly, there was a loud crash and my wife and son stopped. They saw the accident seconds after it happened and went over to help. My wife was on the phone to emergency services right way and had to stay on the line to describe the situation to the 911 dispatcher.
The rider had been on the rode, travelling along when an SUV pulled out in front of him from the shopping centre parking lot. The bike t-boned the SUV at the hood and the rider few over the truck and landed hard. My wife said the visor plastic was broken everywhere. The rider tried to get up several times but people kept trying to get him to lie still until emergency vehicles arrived.

Then blood started rushing out of his helmet.

My wife was a pale as I had ever seen her at this point.

“I’m not sure if he was dead or not.”

People were calling out if anyone had first aid, but no one came forward. My wife was on the phone describing the events to the 911 operator. But to crowd was getting larger at this point and she was getting pushed out of the way. Police arrived first, then Fire & Rescue. With that, she left her number with the 911 operator in case anyone needed to talk to her, but she wanted to leave. She was disgusted by the people who just seemed to be coming to watch.

When she was done telling me the account, she got quiet. As I said, she was very pale. But she never said anything to me about my bike. I knew she wanted to, but I also know she wanted me to be happy.

“I’m selling the bike.” I said. She protested, saying she didn’t want to take anything from me.

But at that point I knew I had to get rid of it.

None of us live in a vacuum. We all live with choices, consequences and responsibilities. I made a choice twenty-two years ago to marry and live my life with this wonderful woman. I made a choice to have a family that I love dearly. These things lead to responsibilities, such as making sure I can support and maintain the family.

But there are greater responsibilities as well. And one is to do our best not to hurt the ones we love. My wife was willing to keep her fears to herself, but I could tell she was in pain about it. I know she would be thinking of the riders family and how their lives have changed in an instant. I know she would be thinking about the driver of the SUV, whose life has also changed in an instant mistake. I know she was in pain because she was trying to allow me to have my happiness.

I can’t have that. Working on the bike has been a blast. As I have said, there were frustrations, but I now know a great deal more about mechanics that I ever have. And riding was fun too. It was easier in many ways than I thought it would be. But then, I haven’t done it in traffic. But things like this are vastly less important than people.

And it already too easy to hurt the ones we love.

I am willing to live with the risk of motorcycle riding. But only for myself. I am not willing to live with the risk to the ones I love.

So, the bike is up for sale. If you are interested, look on Kijiji Brantford! (Ad ID 205445350)

I think I’ll go back to sailing….

Houston, We Have Lift-Off

I have been sick as a dog this week, so it took longer than I expected to get the bike home. But it can back home today!

Sad thing is, by the time it was delivered, I had to go out on some errands. And by the time I got home for that, I had to run out again to meet my sister for a movie. But in between, I managed to squeeze in my first ride!

Yes, unbelievably, I have ridden my bike. Just around the corner… And completely illegally, as the bike is not certified and I have no insurance, but it was great! The bike ran fine. I stalled it once at a stop sign, but it started up great again. The only problem (And it is probably me) is that I couldn’t fine neutral once I wanted to stop. It took several tries to get it right.

So, the price paid to the mechanic was worth it, even if it was a lot more than I wanted to pay. To safety, my father-in-law and I will have to get the signals working right. And I should do the fork seals. But other than that it is ready to ride. The mechanic says the tires and brakes are fine. So I should be able to get it on the road soon. I can’t wait! I even took the plunge and went and wrote my M1, so I am actually licensed to ride a motorcycle in Ontario.

I am on the way. Enjoy the pictures of the middle-aged guy feeling as excited as a kid at Christmas!

Bikes and Cash

Great news… Of sorts.

I heard from the mechanic today and he has the bike running regularly! And it took only $250 worth of his time. He has suggested a few things with regard to my carburetor and I have told him to go ahead. It will take the total up to $400. So, the bike has cost me more than I had planned.

Which, now that I have come to know bikes a bit more, isn’t surprising. This is an expensive hobby, even when you are trying to do it on the cheap.

Another few days and the bike will be home!

People and Things

Well…

The garage is clean…

Rather spare looking. I took the parts bike over to the shop yesterday. My son and I had fun cram it into the mini van. I have had it in before but this time, it seemed to be rather uncooperative. I don’t really know why. But, with some jiggling and removing parts, we got it rolled into the back of the van. Rolling it into the shop, I found the mechanic working on another bike. Mine sat forlornly in a back corner, tucked away and forgotten.

But clean. Boy was it clean. The mechanic says it’s much easier to work on a clean bike, so he gives them a thorough washing when they come in. It was hard to recognize, with parts shining that I never thought would shine!

I also took the time to finally change the ownership on the bike. The history of previous owners is an interesting thing. This bike has been owned by twelve people, moving from Hamilton to Oakville, then back to Hamilton. Now it’s in Brantford, via Stoney Creek.

The history shows that it has been owned for very brief times and for very long times. It makes me wonder how it has been treated and if the long time owners were happy with it. I wonder if it was used by the long term owners or if it just sat in a garage for a long time. I also wonder about the short-term owners and how they treated the motorcycle. Is it because of their use that there are problems? Is it maltreatment or neglect more than just age? I have a keen interest in history, so wondering about the path an object has taken is something I consider often. In fact, I am reading an interesting book at the moment, called ‘People of the Book’ by Geraldine Brooks. It is a fictional account of the people who have come into contact with a Jewish prayer book, the Sarajevo Haggadah. It is a good book that shows the impact that people have on objects and vice versa. In the same way, I look back at the history of my motorcycle and wonder at the people who have used it and how their lives may have been different because of the bike.

I hope by the week end to have more information about my motorcycle. It may even be fixed. And I might just try a Google search of previous owners.

The Wait Conitnues

I didn’t realize how much I had become attached to this project. Over the past week, I have felt a sense of loss at having had to hand over the bike to a mechanic. Perhaps loss is the wrong word, but certainly a sense of failure and reduced masculinity.

I have never been one who has demonstrated much in the way of traditional ‘male’ interests and abilities. I played football once long ago, but that was the only sport I ever played with some interest. And it wasn’t because I was talented in the sport. It was because I was a teenager and I got to knock people down. I don’t watch sports. I prefer to go to art galleries. In my profession, I have worked in elementary education, which is usually associated with women. And anything mechanical has always been a mystery to me.

But after a week of having the bike at the shop, I have moved away from that sense of failure. And it wasn’t because of some cathartic event or because I am moving through some weird grieving process. The reason is more petty than that. The mechanic, someone highly trained and experienced with machines, is having trouble locating the problem. Strange, isn’t it. Despite the fact this is going to cost me more than I had ever thought, I am relieved because the problem wasn;t with me…. It’s the damn bike!

Anyway, he and I have talked. He runs a little shop that is just starting out. We have agreed on a price to diagnose and he will work on it. If he can’t get it running, I will pay one price. If he does, I will pay his hourly rate. Also, he is doing it between his ‘real’ jobs, so the bike often sits and waits. That’s okay, because I have more time than money for this project. Now, he tells me all the ‘big’ stuff (Ignition coil, CDI unit, stator, rotor) seem to be fine. So is the kill switch. So its on to the smaller stuff.

The problem is that it takes time. So, its wait and see.