|Posted on Tuesday, June 30, 2009 - 12:09 pm: ||
Words to take heed.
Actions to be made.
So anyways ,
I spend the better part of a week deciding that I dont want H-D oil anymore inside my xb. Much like the rest of the tasks often associated with my bike I become overwhelmingly obsessed and dont really pay attention to details.
So, After I bite the bullet on some Mobil-1 v-twin stuff. Promply apply to my motorcycles oil tank, and trans cases. During the work I was able to have some company from a fellow badwebber Matt_b, this is the first time we have been able to meet up due to us both being layed off/back and forth on odd shifts, etc.
He makes the good choice to stop by my place as I'm on the way to the dealership from his house, so hey! "Let's ride up to the shop and get my dad something for father's day "
While scratching my head where I put my long funnel to pour oil in the swingarm, I just grab a shorty and bend it a little to get er' in dur. Meanwhile leaving smudges of oil on the tire.
Matt called it, "you got some oil on your tire man" and I even knowingly did it and saw it. Call it concurrently concurring.
in fewer words, "s**t, I did"
well I button it up, and tell him that I might be scuffing side to side to make sure I got all off to the sidewalls.
We make our way out of the drive, and out dont the straight road I live on. No scuffing from me, I'm just shocked at the softer feel of the tranny from this new oil.
I think to myself, "wow! money well spent! this oil is getting the stamp! hope its not just the placibo effect!"
so we take off down to the e-way on these straight country roads, all the while I did not one side motion except intersection stopped-then-go turns. Loving my buttery shifting.
We get to the on-ramp for the express-way waiting for the light to turn left, with me casing the ramp for cars/debri....
my mind wanders...." I wonder how it runs now that its warmed up and ready to go...."
not thinking, hot day no leather jacket, just gloves helmet boots jeans t-shirt.....asphalt.....fresh cut grass thats about 3 feet long laying on the side of the expressway......OIL ON YOUR TIRE.
this is my minds account for the next 10-15 seconds....
slide to the left....dipstick side.......stick on the throttle!!!!!
wow it stood right back up!
why am I facing the infield of the onramp!
Now is the time when I should prolly
A: brake HARD, while standing up straight and go into the grass incline/ditch along the shoulder. Hopefully ride it out, wash it off.
B: puke inside helmet, perish.
C: just say BALLS and throw my chin over the bars to the right and merge out on the expressway at the top of second gear/sliding about on the oil risking hitting Matt_b who surely is shortly in tow behind me...
Hmm, lets do a little of c, mostly a.
I manage to dump first somehow without locking the rear, run up into the white line and most off the fresh cut wet grass laying over, and loose even more traction.
This is the point of no return, I never ride over the white lines anywheres around here cause they are full of sand and rocks/debri from cars.
I know this is getting F***** up really really quickly by seeing mostly shiney little pieces of things glisting back at me from the side of the road.
I just went into the grass then, the hell with this little bit of choice C. I'm gonna smash into matt I can feel it, I know I slowed down way faster than he did, if I cut in now I'm gonna use the whole strech of pavement all the way to the apex. Cant kill this guy I just met.
about 4 ft. of grass incline is all I can ride out at about 30 mph appairently, cause I washed the rear as I wasnt holding steady on the throttle at this point, my decelling tranny momentum slips the rear out to the left, and I begin my first low-side on public roads/street bike.
My bike has never been down, cherry since 04!!!!! why ! why are you doing this to your bike!
I ride the bike all way to the ground, and holding on to the bars, come to rest in a countersteer postion over the pegs and seat in what feels like.....hay.
just as I look inward to the onramp, here is matt, throwing out his kickstand and waving on a passing car.
Being the character that I am, throw my thumb up while I'm still layin one leg under the bike, squerm out dust off.
realizing I had one beer while working in the garage, I make with the calm movments and with the aid of my new found friend, lift the bike to the wheels.
finding almost nothing wrong with the structure of the bike, just torn heat wrap and some extra dirt,grass that I didnt put there. I just throw my leg on and cycle the key.
"its kinda indling funny?" says, matt
"eh, I flooded it when it tipped. didnt stop running until after the bike stopped sliding"
"lets go before I get a ticket! and watch my bike, I might have a bent wheel or loose parts"
So dissapointed in myself...
Very wrong...what did you do.
I put out onto the e-way, ashamed.
So that took all of maybe a minute to crash and pickup, and go.
luckly this is only a mile or less from my house, which makes it all the more emotional painful to my ego.
We make it to the dealership, and I manage to make an ass outta me again by walking around with a leg full of mud, then return home for the real wash down.
Come to find out I scraped the fuel tank, bent my center plate for my crossroads clip-ons, scraped the header pretty good, scraped the chin fairing all to hell and back, scraped the throttle side grip, bent/scraped my heel guard(better than my foot in the tire) and scraped the subframe for the seat.
all cosmetic except for the grip and handlebar.
what a lucky fool I am to be.
with no jacket on, I didnt even get grass stains on my white-T. looks like a cat attacked my arm thats about it.
No blood, no frames were lost.
But lessons are learned.
In the 4 years I have rode street bikes on public roads this is the first moving spill I have had, and its the one time I didnt wear my leather jacket.
Tight back, couple scrapes to me and the bike doesnt mean anything if I cant prevent my luck from running out
oh yeah, what I great first impression on matt_b. Hopefully I can keep the rubber down next time.