Call Me Slick

I'm still trying to track down that strange leak in my GL1100. I had checked the oil after work Wednesday night and found it to be about half-a-quart low. So I added more.

Now, sitting in my garage 4 hours later, I check the oil and discover that I cannot see the oil level in the window. I curse that oil window. Why can't my bike have a dipstick like a normal bike. What was the big idea about having an oil-checking window. It's no more convenient than a dipstick, in fact, it's less convenient. To check the oil I need a screw driver (to twist the wiper blade in the window) a flash light (to see under the frame into the land of constant shadow where the oil window hides). And I need to stand on my head.

Did I overfill it, did I fill it so high that it appears like there's no oil in the window at all? Again, a dipstick wouldn't have had this problem.

I decide to warm the bike up and see if the level in the window changes. I figure it will.

I power up the bike, and let it warm up for about a minute.

My right leg feels warm, what's that?

Oh, crap, I forgot to put the oil filler cap back on the bike. Warm motor oil has been shooting out the oil filler hole for one whole minute. My pant leg from the knee down, my brand new sneaker are covered in oil. A fountain of oil has cascaded over my wife's bike which was parked next to mine. Her engine, tank, side cover and seat all are oily.

My wife comes into the garage.

She sees my predicament. She said, "I was gonna remind you to put back the oil filler cap, but I decided against it."

I said, "Next time, go with your instinct."

She produced a rag and a bucket of soapy water.

"Have fun!" She said, "Please clean off my bike before you clean the floor."

I looked at her dumbstruck. Not that I *expected* her to help me clean up my mess, but still, I guess a guy can hope.

And I was right, I had overfilled the oil. And I was right, running the bike for a few minutes did result in the oil level dropping. But that's what happens when you leave the cap off.

My wife washed my jeans and sneakers until they were clean. It was quite the project.

And, I told my motorcycle friends at work.

"Nice job, Slick," said Mark.

I think I have a new nickname, at least until the next bonehead move earns me another one.