What a day!

I can't begin to tell you how very difficult it was to wipe the smile off of my face today.  I had some running around to do to hustle up an air tank so that I could fill up my front tire.  I was going to run it the way it was down to the gas station but I knew that I would probably pop the tube or waste the sidewall on the tire.  Luckily I found one, filled that bitch up and raced home to fill Koko with air.  I rolled her out on to the driveway and she fired on the very first kick!  She was ready to run and run she did.  To be honest, it has been at least 16 months since I've ridden her and the last time I parked her she had a God awful noise in the bottom end.  I hopped on her, threw my boy Adam's tank bag on the tank, filled with water, smokes and my phone, just in case the old girl wanted to teach me a lesson for not riding her and take a full on shit out in the desert.  Although the water came in handy at a stop light on the way home, I never had to bust out the emergency kit!  I rode her for 40 miles, damn near in circles, never getting more than 5 miles from the house in case I had to push her home.  Each time I stopped at a light, I'd look down for leaks, smoke or fire......  there was a little of everything but fire and you know what?  I didn't care!  The smell of that fresh 50 weight seeping ever so slightly out between the jugs evoked great memories of rides past.  The first five of those forty miles were horrifying to me.  The sounds that come from this old girl I had not heard in a long, long time.  Each and every single one of them sounded like something was terribly wrong with her.  With each bump in the road, with each jockey shifted change of gears they all came back to me.  The high pitched jingle on the lower right side, fuck, what is that?  Oh yeah, that is my Fabricator Kevin Brass Knuckle kicker pedal, once you hit 60 mph it taps the external oil filter.... What the hell was that?  Oh yeah, it's okay, that is the sound of the springs in the ol' springer compressing.  With each mile that passed under her tires, I could feel her coming in to her stride and each sound a familiar memory to me.  At first I didn't break 50 mph but that sure as hell didn't last long.  Last night I put 1 gallon of gas in her just in case I had to drain the tanks again.  After the first five miles, I rode her straight to the gas station and filled the tanks to the brim!  I rode her out in to the desert, parked her, running, in the middle of a traffic island and stepped back to take a look at my beautiful mistress in all her bad ass, sexy glory!  NO LEAKS worth mentioning, idling perfectly in the desert heat and ready to go.  I rode her back to the house and pulled up in front of the garage, took a few steps back and shot the photo above.  I could not get the smile off of my face!

I can't explain the joy that old bikes bring me, all of them.  To see an old knuck, pan or flattie engine even sitting on a shelf touches somewhere down deep in my soul and makes me dream of what that bike was and what it could be.  There are no ugly old bikes!  They are each beautiful and magical to me.  They all have a story to tell if only they could.  To see them going down the road makes me crazy and I chase them down, but to ride one is like nothing you have ever known.  There is just something so mystical about twisting the throttle on an antique piece of iron, stepping on the foot clutch and hand shifting through the gears and wondering what you would do if you really had to stop quickly, it is near impossible to put into words.  I stood there for a moment, just listening to her run today and thought that life is good.  No matter what the universe throws at us, no matter how hard the times, my knuck is back on the road and will bring me so much more joy!  I could not stop thinking about how proud I was to have this old girl in my garage but I was damn near 3/4's hard looking at her outside of it! 

Until we see each other on the road again,

Keep the wind in your face,
Tits in your back
and The Man off your ASS!

Your Friend,
Jack Shit