The Admiral's visit to the doctor
So my motorcycle, the Admiral, has been giving me trouble lately. I figured it's because it sat for a good year with minimal riding since his previous owner upgraded to a soft tail.
So I took him off the road until I could figure something out as far as taking him in to the bike shop.
I had the pleasure of going to the insurance company in Braintree, then the DMV, then Braintree, then the DMV one final time in order to get the bike registered. Long, long story. You'd be reading all day if I went into it.
So yesterday I went to my tattoo class, which got out early, much to my delight. I walked home and my roomate was planning on going to the Egg and I for some late breakfast. I asked if he'd follow me to the bike shop where I planned on getting inspected and dropping the Admiral off.
We took the short trip and I got the sticker. Then I asked the mechanics about my concerns. They allayed my fears enough so that I rode the bike to and from breakfast, and later, to work.
Got all the way to Southie. Took back roads. Then finally went to take two exits-worth of I-93. Just at the source of one of Boston's infamous tunnels, he stalled. Luckily I had a place to pull over safely. So I waited. Started him up again. Got about twenty yards before stalling again. This time in the breakdown-lane-less tunnel.
I coasted to a small sliver where an onramp descends into the tunnel.
There I sat with cars, trucks and huge rigs whizzing past me and the Admiral at 65 or so. I felt like a five year old lost at the mall. Only I could have been killed.
Every story I tell is a long one. This goes on so much longer. Walking to find a gas station with a useable gas can, praying the whole way home, dressing up like super heroes... etc.
So I took the day off.
I took the day off and, after taking notes on drum specs, mic placement and tuning techniques, tried to capture the John Bonham drum sound in the studio.
Get well, Admiral.
*UPDATE*
Most bikes under 1100 cc's don't have gas gauges. It's a sad fact. So you have to keep mental notes of when you gas up, how much you've ridden on a tank, city vs. highway...etc. I wasn't paying attention to the tachometer. The Admiral is alive and well. He's currently setting off car alarms in the greater Boston area.
Look for the chick with the sideburns on a blood-red VN800 with white walls on a side street near you.
So I took him off the road until I could figure something out as far as taking him in to the bike shop.
I had the pleasure of going to the insurance company in Braintree, then the DMV, then Braintree, then the DMV one final time in order to get the bike registered. Long, long story. You'd be reading all day if I went into it.
So yesterday I went to my tattoo class, which got out early, much to my delight. I walked home and my roomate was planning on going to the Egg and I for some late breakfast. I asked if he'd follow me to the bike shop where I planned on getting inspected and dropping the Admiral off.
We took the short trip and I got the sticker. Then I asked the mechanics about my concerns. They allayed my fears enough so that I rode the bike to and from breakfast, and later, to work.
Got all the way to Southie. Took back roads. Then finally went to take two exits-worth of I-93. Just at the source of one of Boston's infamous tunnels, he stalled. Luckily I had a place to pull over safely. So I waited. Started him up again. Got about twenty yards before stalling again. This time in the breakdown-lane-less tunnel.
I coasted to a small sliver where an onramp descends into the tunnel.
There I sat with cars, trucks and huge rigs whizzing past me and the Admiral at 65 or so. I felt like a five year old lost at the mall. Only I could have been killed.
Every story I tell is a long one. This goes on so much longer. Walking to find a gas station with a useable gas can, praying the whole way home, dressing up like super heroes... etc.
So I took the day off.
I took the day off and, after taking notes on drum specs, mic placement and tuning techniques, tried to capture the John Bonham drum sound in the studio.
Get well, Admiral.
*UPDATE*
Most bikes under 1100 cc's don't have gas gauges. It's a sad fact. So you have to keep mental notes of when you gas up, how much you've ridden on a tank, city vs. highway...etc. I wasn't paying attention to the tachometer. The Admiral is alive and well. He's currently setting off car alarms in the greater Boston area.
Look for the chick with the sideburns on a blood-red VN800 with white walls on a side street near you.
posted by Hooker at 9:18 PM
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