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So how do you tell someone is a true biker, rather than simply a “bike owner”?
Some say it’s the clothes. Some think that you can tell a true biker by how many Harley, MotoGuzzi, or Joe Rocket logos he has all over him.
Some say it’s the tattoos. Some think you just cannot be a biker without armfuls of faded ink bearing skulls and old girlfriends’ names.
Some say it’s the bike. “There can be only one!” is often the rallying cry.
Some say it’s the miles. True bikers ride, and ride a lot.
Maybe it’s all these. Maybe it’s none of them. Maybe it is different for each person.
I say it’s the attitude.
Here is an example:
Friday afternoon my friend James was to come over and do some work on his ’81 Goldwing, which has been in pieces in my garage for several days as we worked on the fuel system. We had to remove the tank (located in the frame under the seat) and cut out the old rusted fuel lines, weld the tank back up, add a new fitting, and epoxy coat the inside. She was also getting new rubber, and we also did some repair to a bad alternator wiring harness we found during the disassembly process. The ‘Wing looked like a half-eaten carcass scattered all over my garage, as the tank removal required tearing the entire back of the bike off.
Of course what else should you expect to find in a Dragon’s garage than a half eaten carcass?
So Friday James shows up…unfortunately he made a spectacular entrance.
I don’t think anybody has ever showed up at my house and calmly asked me to put out the fire on his jeep before.
Seems the front brake caliper locked up, and heated the front rotor and wheel to cherry red. The center cap of the wheel even melted off. The grease on the steering components ignited simply from the radiant heat.
It took several minutes of dousing it with copious amounts of water from the garden hose to cool the mess off and stop the smoking.
So, off to the parts store we go. While there we get the last bit of stuff we need for the ‘Wing, and a new brake caliper for the jeep.
So, here is the set-up. Both his vehicles are broken down now. He has nothing left to drive. We are standing there with parts in hand to fix both. The jeep ought to take about an hour, and the ‘Wing is so far apart that we expect it to take at least 8 hours to put back together, and that is assuming we find nothing else wrong. It is, after-all, a 22-year-old bike. To top it all off, the registration, inspection, and insurance expire on the ‘Wing the next day, and it really needs a new battery.
So which to fix, the Jeep or the ‘Wing?
There was never a question. We both shrugged, rolled up our sleeves, and started putting the motorcycle back together.
Eight and a half hours later, James pushed the start button on the ‘Wing. It was 1:30am in the morning.
Vrrroooommmm! Man that is a sweet sound!
That was the point we realized that the sensible and logical action would have been to fix the jeep first.
James looked at the jeep and the brand-new caliper sitting in its box. “Screw the jeep, I’m going for a ride.”
I went with him.
Some say it’s the clothes. Some think that you can tell a true biker by how many Harley, MotoGuzzi, or Joe Rocket logos he has all over him.
Some say it’s the tattoos. Some think you just cannot be a biker without armfuls of faded ink bearing skulls and old girlfriends’ names.
Some say it’s the bike. “There can be only one!” is often the rallying cry.
Some say it’s the miles. True bikers ride, and ride a lot.
Maybe it’s all these. Maybe it’s none of them. Maybe it is different for each person.
I say it’s the attitude.
Here is an example:
Friday afternoon my friend James was to come over and do some work on his ’81 Goldwing, which has been in pieces in my garage for several days as we worked on the fuel system. We had to remove the tank (located in the frame under the seat) and cut out the old rusted fuel lines, weld the tank back up, add a new fitting, and epoxy coat the inside. She was also getting new rubber, and we also did some repair to a bad alternator wiring harness we found during the disassembly process. The ‘Wing looked like a half-eaten carcass scattered all over my garage, as the tank removal required tearing the entire back of the bike off.
Of course what else should you expect to find in a Dragon’s garage than a half eaten carcass?
So Friday James shows up…unfortunately he made a spectacular entrance.
I don’t think anybody has ever showed up at my house and calmly asked me to put out the fire on his jeep before.
Seems the front brake caliper locked up, and heated the front rotor and wheel to cherry red. The center cap of the wheel even melted off. The grease on the steering components ignited simply from the radiant heat.
It took several minutes of dousing it with copious amounts of water from the garden hose to cool the mess off and stop the smoking.
So, off to the parts store we go. While there we get the last bit of stuff we need for the ‘Wing, and a new brake caliper for the jeep.
So, here is the set-up. Both his vehicles are broken down now. He has nothing left to drive. We are standing there with parts in hand to fix both. The jeep ought to take about an hour, and the ‘Wing is so far apart that we expect it to take at least 8 hours to put back together, and that is assuming we find nothing else wrong. It is, after-all, a 22-year-old bike. To top it all off, the registration, inspection, and insurance expire on the ‘Wing the next day, and it really needs a new battery.
So which to fix, the Jeep or the ‘Wing?
There was never a question. We both shrugged, rolled up our sleeves, and started putting the motorcycle back together.
Eight and a half hours later, James pushed the start button on the ‘Wing. It was 1:30am in the morning.
Vrrroooommmm! Man that is a sweet sound!
That was the point we realized that the sensible and logical action would have been to fix the jeep first.
James looked at the jeep and the brand-new caliper sitting in its box. “Screw the jeep, I’m going for a ride.”
I went with him.
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