Adventures, relationships and my motorcycle.

Silly me
Stupid fancy dress shoes…. would never have happened in my bike boots

Adventure deprivation.
We all love adventuring, be it through a book, hiking, flying… or motorcycling! And our adventures and exploits place burdens as well as joys on our relationships. The flow on effect of the positives and negatives of such adventures affect our lives in many ways, some obvious and some subtle. But affect us they do.

There is no greater adventure (for me anyway) than heading out on a motorcycle and just choosing left/right at each intersection with no premeditation as to the final destination. Sheer bliss, being lost in the countryside on a powerful smooth motorcycle eating road by the mile.
Sadly, while I have a lovey, shiny, powerful, capable sports bike sitting in the lean to behind the house, my arm being in a plaster cast has killed any such adventures for a little while.

There is no greater pain than watching the bike gather cobwebs when it is in excellent mechanical condition, has fuel in the tank, but no rider to enjoy the road with.
All motorcyclists know their machines have a soul, unlike cars and vans and trucks, (well most anyway, I do know a few cars with souls, usually old Chevy’s of Fords) but the philosophical question I have for myself and all my fellow riders today is, do they feel the pain of neglect? I think the answer is yes.

My 1990GSXR1100 for example. It would start every time I hit the starter, despite having not run in weeks, sometimes months, it always started. Once, it sat in my brothers back yard in Titahi Bay for 2 months without running, barely sheltered by a hedge, exposed to the elements and sea salt, yet she started first touch of the starter button… (well ok second touch, geez!)
When I sold it to a mate of mine, I had not started it in 2 months but she was safely dry and warm in the car port (fully enclosed on 3 sides, literally an open front garage).
Totally confident she was going to start outright as always, I was stunned to find the battery totally flat, the carbs empty of fuel and no chance of starting her up without a new battery and fresh fuel! In the 4 years I had her, no matter how long between start-ups she never, ever had let me down before, and right there in the presence of the new owner it happens…
I could almost hear her dulcet voice saying ‘no chance of starting me now you disloyal prat! HOW DARE YOU SELL ME!’

A perfect example of the fact motorcycles DO have souls, they have feelings, and they know us better than we know ourselves, and they can make you look like a dick if they decide to. Just like a woman really…the parallels are amazing!

Roxy, my beloved RF900, still has yet to form a solid bond with me. And right there in the beginning months of my new relationship, I break my scaphoid.

Riding hours were already down due to work and other life commitments, it’s also winter….then along comes a slippery floor combined with wet soles on my flash Eyetaliano dress shoes… and wham, throttle arm in plaster!
Unable to truly form my bond with the new bike, will she start getting temperamental and also decide to perish her battery and allow the fuel to stale and clog my carburetor jets?
How long before my lovely Roxy decides she has sat idle long enough?
How long till she starts looking for a new rider who will treat her to more road time than I am supplying?
This is a serious relationship issue I kid you not. Poor Roxy…..

I would risk getting one of my mates to take her out and spin the bearings, but as all motorcycle owners know, that is tantamount to wife swapping… no one, I mean NO ONE rides MY bike but me (and the mechanic but hey he is ‘the doctor’ after all.)
I won’t risk any permanent ‘extramarital’ relationships developing, after all me and Roxy are still well and truly in our honeymoon period… and I am sadly neglecting her needs.
Let’s hope the orthopedic department decides the cast can stay off as of this Friday…. My Roxy, she needs me, and I cannot afford to let her down.


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