Did I get out today...
Doug and Diane are rich retired beekeepers and motorcycle riders. They both have extensive track time. Every year they host a huge breakfast and make amazing waffles. So- I was going to take the W but I cleaned the airfilters and put Klotz foam filter muck on there. Well- these aren't foam, so the bike wouldn't run. By that time I'm late, so I jump on the GB. Nice breakfast, another W owner tells me to clean the filters with gas (why didn't I think of that) and use the manual recommended 30wt. While there, Diane announces that she can't ride anymore and is selling her Hawk 650 with incredibly tasty yet refined mods, showroom condition, low miles, for $2500. Everybody runs down to the garage and I'm an addict drooling on myself theinking this is such a rare opportunity!!! Poke my eyes with a stick and go hime to clean the filters again. Haven't been on the Indian in a while, so by noon I'm puttering up 63 toward Hot Springs. It dies. I re-start it. Go about 2 miles and it dies. Time to go home...
A mile or two and it dies. Another mile and it dies. So- a guy on an old Harley gives me a ride home. Can't find anyone with a trailer but Sewer Boy says it's probably a bad coil and he has one. So we go to install a new coil and plugs. It starts and dies. Dang it's hot out here! Getting gas. Getting spark. New coil. Gas cap is venting. We push it up to a burger joint and Lawrence drives by and stops. He likes the bike, Hey howya doin, etc. Well, I was going to do some pickin, but let me go get my truck. (lawrence sets dynamite for the Highway Dept and is one of the better bluegrass pickers around.) So- he comes back his bigass yaller pick-up and backs up to a berm so we don't have to lift the bike up because there was no way, but the bike starts and I drive up the berm before it dies again. Lawrence only has one tie-down that Noah had left over and Missionaries found in the Holy Land and gave to Lawrences church for some reason. I don't know how or why Lawrence had it- providence I guess. Meanwhile, Sewer Boy (he's a plumbing cotractor) is getting itchy because he has to be home by 6PM- every night as part of his parole. So. Lawrence is nervous so he's going real slow and about a mile down the tie-down breaks and the bike is now on it's side and he thinks we maybe should stop and I tell him the bike deserves that and more. Finally, Lawrence backs up to my front yard which is raised behind a little wall and I throw a plank down and SB pushes and I'm a skeert but it's coming and the Oh So Lovely weeping cherry blossom branches are trying to beat the daylights out of me but at least it's finally on the front yard and then into the garage.
That's the last time this happens to me and that Indian is for sale.
That's my day and excuse the rant.
