So my Dad and I are on the way to the local Quaker Steak & Lube for bike night, him on his Goldwing and myself on the '77 550, we get to the red light at intersection where we turn onto the main street out of our subdivision. I roll up to the light, apply the brakes, pull in the clutch and *snap* the $#^% clutch cable that I replaced last summer breaks off at the lever. So I shift into neutral roll down the hill and Flintstone it back to my house about an 1/5 mile away.
I get the bike into the garage, remove the cable, and find the one from the cb360t I'm restoring. The cables a little too long so I make a shim for it out of a piece of plastic, get it installed and adjusted. I put my jacket and helmet back on, sit on the bike and try to turn the key to "ON" but thing keeps right on going. The ignition won't engage in any position. WTF!!!!!!!
. I had just replaced the ignition two weeks ago with a brand new one after the original one quit working on my way home from bike night and I had to call a friend to trailer me home. Well, we decide it just wasn't meant to be and hop in my dad's truck to go to a different restaurant. We pull up to the intersection where my clutch cable broke, and what do you think I see zooming on by, yep a 1977 cb550. Son of $%@#! The whole ordeal left me feeling a little strange.
At least the two things that broke are the two of the easiest things to replace on the bike, just didn't think I'd have to do it so soon and at the same time.
Any of you guys have some strange, coincidental, fortuitous bike stories?
