The rear fender has a huge scrape down to the metal, dent and horrible repaint job, to save from rust.  Like it matters. It’s been running for exactly 3 days. I wasn’t extremely happy with the way the re-pop fender painted up anyway, so when I took the newly named, 1976 Ironhead Sportster , The Breeze, on her shakedown ride, and the sissy bar,  seated in the brackets I had picked up at a swap meet last fall- for a great price AND a great conversation, popped out and I heard a dreaded SSSCCCRRRRRRRRRAAATTCCCHHHHHHHH CHING CHING…..
Finally hit dirt
 I was mostly upset about the sissy bar itself. It was a heartfelt gift from a very caring and thoughtful boss. A gift that had sat on a shelf for 30 + years with layers of dust, and was perfect. Flawless and pristine… And I just drug it 5 feet down a shit paved gravel road.
Gosh, fricking, darn it!!! (I’m working on my cursing)
This wasn’t the first thing. This was a careless mistake, the sissy bar wasn’t secure. I didn’t finish my checklist, and I got careless. I was so excited she was running, I took off and fucked shit up. Per my usual.
The first time I had her running, there was just a few drops of gas, enough to start, and idle for a few minutes. The bowl hadn’t been full in the carb since I rebuilt it, and since I moved it, removed it, probably turned it upside down… the float needle- this little weight thing, that helps make the float work properly, (like a counterbalance for the float to close the gas flow, looks like a crystal shaped pendulum for all my non moto babes and dudes reading this) was in the bottom of the bowl. Â
I figured it out when I filled the tank, for the first time, and the overflow doused my frickin foot.
*Deep breath*
Thank goodness her petcock works like a charm!
Her first trip to a bar! The Psycho Silo Saloon
Leaning over the side of the bike to get a better angle and look for the screws to the bowl of the carb Because I was NOT about to take it OFF of the bike to do this simple of a job- I was willing to get gas all over me and my deck- because let me remind you, she lived in my house for 2 years, Â Two years of parts here and there, a little polish, some paint.. she’s currently rolled out of my dining room door, onto the back deck, leaking gas all over, due to an unfortunate, but easily fixed situation. Â Her tires are SO close to touching ground. Â So here I am, leaning over with a drop light and a cell phone light, getting soaked in fuel.
I love my bike. Â I really want to get her to the darn bar tonight…
The float was an easy fix- and replacing the bowl, no problem.
25 minutes later.. Lets try this again…
Petcock on, key, on, kick- she fires. Â I haven’t yet had her running long enough or well enough to get her OFF of the 4 step wooden porch by myself. But tonight is the night. Â I have the bike running, Â the carb and tank are full of gas, and the ramp (pallet) is in place on my stairs… Here we go- Clutch in, kick it down into gear and… CLUNK. killed it. Â Should’ve adjusted that clutch cable first… *$^#%@.
I love my bike. Â I’m probably going to miss taco night now..
Little Prick tried to blow me up!
Route 150 seemed like a good idea at the time. It was a side road, and of course slower than the Highway, but in hindsight, probably should have taken the highway, with less frame shattering and wire eating bumps.. however, you meet some really nice helpful people in the small towns you travel through.
The family that let us borrow their driveway for 3 hours while I searched for a battery in the local town was super nice, and even offered to let us camp in the back yard! Â The manager at the O’Reillys in Morton also got me a battery, charged it, took off my core charge AND gave me a piece of pizza.. these are the people that deserve respect. Â My heros! Â We got her running with a few pieces of electrical tape, and a new battery.
What are you gonna do? When you break down- GO SWIMMING!
Breeze didn’t have another problem all day, we went to the lake for a swim and a nap, all I could think of to do to cool off on this 90 degree day spent entirely in the sun, was to find water on the way home.
The copious amounts of old Strip Mine and Quarry lakes around where I live make perfect little stops.. and we found one that was secluded, untouched, and a short walk across a corn field.
PERFECT afternoon in the water, and a 12 pack of PBR later.. we were wandering/staggering/swerving home.
Unknown said…
Good stuff Amy, Love you and you adventures. Never a dull moment. Keep living the dream!!!