Tonight I taught my bike that it is owned by a f**kin' idiot. I went for a late night ride with a friend who has a '73 350 Four and she wanted to try out my '76 550F so we swapped and rode out along the Toronto lake shore for half an our or so and stopped for a coffee. After chatting in the parking lot and deciding where to head next I got back on my bike and she got on hers.
I decided to kick start mine because, as I mentioned, I'm a dip#$%*. I swung my leg over, kicked up my side stand and gave a good solid kick. Nothing. WTF? Kick again. Nothing. This bike fires up like a dream, every time. As I went to lean it back to the left it slowly dawned on me the side stand was in the (duh) UP position and I ever so (not quite) gently laid the ol' Honda on its side and busted the clutch lever.
Turns out my friend, whose ignition key is on the side under her tank (as opposed to mine, on the dash) is used to turning her bike off with the kill switch and did the same with mine (I've never touched my kill switch, I always use the key - diff'rent strokes.) So, the moral of the story is that I'm dumb but luckily such dumbness (among other life experiences not always brought on by said dip#$%*tery) has given me the opportunity to drive many manual transmission vehicles with many different (often non-existent) clutch configurations. I was able to get home none the worse for wear and tomorrow I'll try to find a new clutch lever in town so I don't have to wait too long to ride again.
Thanks for indulging my little tale of self-inflicted woe. If you're like me, don't try to be cool... yer not.