Kicking my Ass
Getting to know a new bike is always fun. I've been spoiled by my push-button FXR for the past two and a half years. I was fussing with this bike right before Slab City, way back in November. I could not get the front brakes to bleed properly so I parked it, got involved in moving the shop and a million other things and hardly even looked at it. I finally took it down to our local go-to shop a couple weeks ago where Bob and Chris always help me out when I'm over my head (or my head is up my ass). Thankfully, that old PM master cylinder gave them fits too. I really wanted to get it back before the rain starts tomorrow, so when they called this afternoon and said they figured it out and I was good-to-go, I was stoked. I spent a little time down there with Chris last weekend and we got the starting sequence pretty nailed. Or so I thought. Always humbling, motorcycles. Today I finally got it going after a little exercise, and ran up and down the street a couple times, digging it. Pulled up at the first stop sign and the lever went all the way to the grip, I bobbled and stalled it. So the kicking begins. I heard some yelling and looked up. Some broad was stopped right there in the street screaming "Hell yeah! Now there's a real man!" I just laughed. If she only knew. It fired right up after the cheerleading and I finished my two block shakedown. I think I'm over that master cylinder, but I'm digging the bike. Thanks, lady.