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10/30/2006: "Hard-ass"
music: Some Eminem dealmood: all over the place
I have a bike. It looks like this.
I have ridden it a grand total of three times. Let me tell you a story:
Dan, the bestest husband in the whole world, found a guy on Craigslist who was willing to take his project Camero in a straight-up trade for this bike. We went to Inver Grove Heights to make the swap Friday after work. I've never ridden at night before and I haven't ridden since motorcycle safety class this summer so I was a bit nervous, to say the least. After stalling out once (the clutch and brakes are REAL touchy) I picked it right back up in my test run. The bike is almost pristine. Tiny marks on the tank from an old windshield. Small rust hole in the right exhaust pipe. The carb is gummed up from not being ridden, but it runs fine with the choke at least half out.
Titles were signed, keys were exchanged, and thus began my adventure. My very nervous husband drove the truck behind me. Inver Grove Heights is about 30 minutes from Minneapolis. The seller said, "put some gas in it." Yup, no problem, will do. Too bad I missed the gas station because it was on the other side of the road from the on-ramp to Hwy 52. No problem, thinks I, I'll hit the gas station in Mendota Heights.
Five minutes later, just as I was approaching Robert Trail on Hwy 55 the bike just. stopped. accelerating. The oil light came on. I had run out of gas. Sweet. Dan stayed with the bike, I hopped in the truck and went to the gas station. I got a phonecall. It was my Dad. What was I doing, he asks. Having a motorcycle adventure, I reply. Where are you, he asks. 55 and Robert, I reply as I struggle to pay for my gas. Do you need us to come pick you up, he asks. Maybe. As I got back in the truck I had a horrible thought. What if it wasn't just lack of gas? What if it really was something more? I called my dad back and asked him to come out. It just so happened that they were in St. Paul anyway just about to turn on Robert. WEIRD.
Got back to the bike. Dan and I tried to lift it into the back of the truck, but that just wasn't going to happen. Parents arrived shortly after. Put gas in it. It was agreed that Burnsville was a lot closer than Minneapolis so we headed back to the parents' house.
Thoughts on riding a 450cc bike with no windshield in the dark and cold and wind:
But no worries. I picked it up yesterday and rode it home with no problem. I'm going to take the last run of the year today, then she's going to get a Sta-Bil toddy and a nice blanket to sleep under for the winter.