Examiner Resurrection: Biker Brotherhood: A Tale Of Two Breakdowns
Motorcycle maintenance doesn’t always prevent breakdowns.
Biker Brotherhood: A Tale Of Two Breakdowns
My old 1980 Honda CB750 Custom gave me trouble the other day. Twice. And others bikers came to my aid. Twice. Thanks guys. Stopping and helping another biker is a time-honored tradition and it’s one of those things that makes our group special.
Starting out from home, I had only gone about a mile and she died. I knew I had switched to reserve near the end of my ride a couple days ago, but that should have meant I had plenty of gas to get to a station. But “ought to” and “should have” are meaningless in the face of reality.
Happily, as I rolled the bike onto the sidewalk to get it out of the busy intersection where it had chosen to die, another rider came along and asked if everything was OK. No, it was not OK. So Roger gave me a ride to my house to get a can of gas and then stuck around to see if that would do the job.
It didn’t. I poured the gas in, turned the key, and thumbed the starter and while it turned over just fine, that was all. The only other thing I could think of that might be a problem was the fusible link. This part of my electrical system requires removal of the seat to get to, which is not an easy proposition on this CB, so I only do it when I need to. I figured I needed to.
Roger stuck around meanwhile, and when I got to the link it was fine. So now what? As I put it all back together and put the seat back on Roger was fiddling with the gas line down under the tank. He called my attention to a translucent portion of the line, and how when he nudged it with his finger a bit more gas moved into the line. He did that several times and each time more gas filled the line until it was full.
“Try it now,” he suggested. I turned the key and pushed the starter and it fired right up. Wahoo! I would never have thought to look at that, and Roger swore he’s no mechanic but was just following intuition. Only once I was up and running again did he depart, having done a very good deed for a total stranger.
Problem No. 2
So I filled up and headed off to Loveland, where I was going to test ride some Triumphs. I’ll be telling you all about that soon but suffice it to say for now that I loved the Bonnevilles!
I headed back to Denver and thought the bike might not be running quite right about the time I got back into the metro area. It was rush hour and I was going south on I-25 right through the heart of town, so it was slow going. I was in the far-left lane right at the 8th Avenue exit when the bike just died. We were moving slowly so I coasted only about 10 feet before I came to a stop. Fortunately, there was a spot just 10 feet ahead of me where the concrete barrier dividing north- and southbound traffic separated, creating a space just big enough for two motorcycles to tuck safely out of the way. I rolled up into that space.
Clearly I wasn’t going anywhere any time soon on my own. I was stuck in the middle of the interstate with traffic not about to subside. Within just a couple minutes, however, a guy on a Kawasaki, whose name I did not get, pulled into the space (that’s how I know there was room for two bikes) and asked if I needed help.
Yes, I certainly did, could I use his cell phone to call for assistance. I made the call and also called my wife to tell her I wouldn’t be meeting her as planned. And then the Kawi guy took off, having done his good deed for the day. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Long story short (and leaving out some interesting details), I was rescued and hauled off to the shop. There my bike remains as I wait to get the word on what caused the problems.
Bikers helping bikers
I have to say that this practice of bikers helping bikers is a very special thing. I know it arose out of the vagaries of undependable machinery in the early days but that it continues today, when bikes are much more dependable, is a testament to how people really can get along if they choose to.
We may not share political opinions and may have a lot of different ideas about a lot of things, but when you see someone stopped by the side of road you don’t ask who they voted for. You ask if they need help. And if they do, you provide whatever you can. What a wonderful thing it could be if we incorporated this attitude into the other parts of our lives.
Biker Quote for Today
When I hit the open road the ride becomes meditation, the sound of my pipes become music, the rolling through turns becomes a dance, and riding becomes a celebration of freedom!
Tags: motorcycle breakdown
