Bikes are people too...

[Josh M]

or at least it seems like it sometimes.

I went for a ride today on the Vision.  70 degrees, mostly sunny, and NOVEMBER in New England.  After seeing nearly 100 bikes pass my house while I was working in the garage on a different bike, I just couldn't resist.  After shuffling the bikes around, I got the V out and warming in the driveway, got my jacket, helmet and gloves on, and ventured out for a short ride.
   I started down rte 114 and took a shortcut over to rte 13 south.  It's a pleasant winding road that follows a river, nice and twisty and not too much traffic.  I followed it until I picked up 136 north.  The bike was handling great and the throttle response was just superb.  I came to the town of Francestown, a quiet picturesque new england village like you read about, and hopped onto rte 47 north.  I have done this ride quite a few times and remembered that earlier in the summer, they had removed the pavement from about a mile of road just before you leave the center of town.  Aparently, they still haven't gotten around to paving it. ::)  No biggie, there was a car in front of me, so I relaxed and took my time bouncing along in the dirt.
   When I got back on the pavement I hit the throttle and....the bike fell flat on it's face. :-[  At first I thought it was starving for fuel so I switched to reserve.  Nope, not it.  Back to primary so I won't run out of fuel.  I could still maintain traffic speed, so I continued on.  When I got to the stop sign at the junction of rte 31/202 I pulled in the clutch and the bike just died.
   Now, I had been thinking about what was causing my poor running condition ever since it started, and when I looked down at the pavement below the bike, I was almost positive I knew the problem.  I still had no tools and no cell phone with me, so the knowledge wasn't really all that comforting.  When I had the other fuel tank on the bike earlier in the summer, some rust had made it to the fuel bowls.  When I hit the dirt road the constant shaking must have dislodged some of the rust and managed to block the jets, and prob open the float valve.  I was losing gas through the overflow.  After a few minutes of cranking, throttle cracking and manipulations of the choke, I got the beast running again.
   My options were limited.  The bike was running, I was about 30-50 miles from home, and daylight was limited, so I continued on.  I came to rte 202 where I got my first choice on what route to take to get home.  Option A:  turn right, go through town, pick up rte 149 to 114 and go home.  Rte 149 is a perfect road for a motorcycle.  Its got plenty of turns and elevation changes, a great view from spots(if you're not going too fast...)and goes where I need to go at a speed limit of 35-45.  Option 2:  go straight and get on 202 to 114 and go home.  Given the current condition of the bike, I decided to avoid as many stop lights/stop signs as possible.  
     I got onto 202 and opened the throttle.  60mph with weak acceleration, but I kept it going.  It started to rain lightly and got cold quick.  I got to Henniker( a nice little college town) and got to the only stop sign on the way home.  I had to keep blipping the thottle to keep the bike running, so my take off was a litlle rougher than normal.  As I released the clutch and hit the throttle to keep the bike from dying the back tire hit the wide white stripe on the road and kicked the bike sideways.  I jammed my right foot on the pavement but kept the bike up.  A quick look around to make sure noone saw, and I continued home.  Now my ankle was throbbing slightly, but the bike started running better.  I think the it might have been payback for flogging the bike for 20 some-odd miles in it's sickly condition.
   Most of the time, bikes have a certain personality, but sometimes they just catch a small cold and make you suffer through it.   ;)

[Lucky]

A quick look around to make sure noone saw, and I continued home

If ever there was a definition of "silent moment under the visor" that is it!, lol!!