I am going through my Cannonball blog printing preparing for a presentation i have been asked to give this is from my blog back on April 15th before the ride i am thinking who wrote all this stuff???? Ride April 15, 2014 Clutch pivot bolt repair complete also adjusting the clutch a bit...Changed oil using the petcock i installed in the oil tank to make changing less messy...Fifty weight oil not warmed up drains slow yet i had time while working on other things...Cleared a small path out through the clutter just enough to straddle the bike out through after gingerly diagonally dropping it off the front of the lift...A perfect weather day maybe even a bit warm for this time of year...Dare i even begin to count the countless hours thinking, planning, wrenching, ordering, wiring, pounding, welding, melding, scrubbing, squinting, kicking, tuning, second guessing, to even arrive at this stage...So here i am bike is on the pavement fresh from the blood, oil gas, grease stained operating table...Trepidation i would be lying if i said hell no none.. My seat pan bare rough iron not a a hint of cushion or leather...The air and sun warm as i transition from the cave of a garage the cave more to suit my personality shaded dark and cool...Now or never i turn the gas on retard the spark advance check the clutch is disengaged find neutral open the throttle half way...Click the choke lever down full choke...One primer kick ratchet up the kick lever second primer kick...Click choke lever up and back down one click back off on the throttle to an eighth turn the ignition key on...Back track all systems in my head...Indians should start on the third kick first ignition kick... Here goes no Indian prayer just a full kick through and away we go...Acceptance accepted the fire the fuel in perfect harmony lighting up with a roar...I back off on the throttle and reach for the choke lever clicking up and waiting with my hand still on the lever...No cough or signs of stalling i wait still...Hesitation of reward... Do my fingers hurt does my back hurt does my ankle hurt does my shoulder hurt do both knees hurt on and on i could go yet nothing hurt at that instant...Play through the pain no pain no gain the cliques of motivation to move to the next level...Do i gear up boots, jacket, helmet,??? I been waiting on the Indian now the Indian is running waiting on me...Warm in my black hoodie uniform dirty unkempt i am as i retrieve my Smith and Wesson shades from the dash of my van...Rolling the bike off the rear stand as it idles and vibrates in my hands...I kick up and click the stand in place tipping the bike towards me as i swing my leg high to clear the extended seat pan...Retard and idle down as i engage the clutch steady gentle grasp of the amber Indian head shift knob...As it slips quietly back into first...Already pointed down the rutted dirt drive i ease the clutch out thinking it needs even more adjustment...To much throttle as the Indian lurches forward feet clearing the pavement ass clearing the bare metal pan as we both adjust to each other...I wobble through the ruts idling coasting the last 20 feet to the street...Looking down the street as i am turning right up the street there sits the local cop...Then it strikes me no wallet no cell phone no license no registration...I must be a site to view as i roar out up and away from a sure pending pull over...My story forming in my head with no hesitation as i accelerate shifting to second but officer i been building this Indian all winter give me a break...The light at the top of the street if you time it right by following a few cars will change as you approach for a right hand turn...Not today as i watched my mirror for the local blue light hitting the red light...Indians seem to down shift better than up shift as i dropped back into first ignoring my neutral at a dead stop practice...A car was turning down the street so i knew i had a red light in my favor...No stopping me as i rolled and over throttled through the right turn...If the cop is any where behind me i know its a sure pull over...Shifting up that is actually down with the jockey shift lever the Indian responding to me...One more click down as i drop it into high third gear...I see my dad out in the yard as i lay on the Indian face horn my thumb rubbing the bare wire against the handle bar...Instantly free as i glide on iron against the wind...Smile
Posted on: Sat, 01 Nov 2014 14:19:53 +0000
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