My daughter is home from college, and still has the motorcycle “bug”. She has begun venturing out on her own after doing her first couple hundred miles following me around the local countryside.
Yesterday at about 4 pm I got a call from her. She's fine, there was no accident - but the bike abruptly lost power while she was riding. She pulled it over to the side of the road next to a farm field.
No obvious loose connections that I could see, we ended up trailering it home to my garage.
I woke up this morning thinking about digging into that bike. I asked her if she was ready to get started, and she said, "But I have a big paper to write." (She's taking classes in the summer too, hell bent on graduating early I guess.)
Now - you may recall the terms of this arrangement between me and my daughter when she bought her bike: I won't buy it for you, and I won't fix it for you. But I will help you pick it out, and if it's broken, I will help you fix it.
I really didn't want to ever find myself in the situation where I was lathered in sweat and grease in the garage while she sat in air-conditioned comfort painting her nails, asking, "Daddy, is my bike fixed yet?!"
So, the bike sits inoperable in the garage this Saturday, waiting on such a time that she and I can work on it together.
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