09-03-2018, 08:30 PM
I've only had one, but it was a good one. I just started riding street bikes 11 years ago when I bought a Honda Hawk GT. Visually speaking the bike was pretty clean overall but mechanically speaking it was a bit neglected. I bought the bike because I lusted after one in 1988 when they first came out and that motorcycle had never lost its appeal to me. My goal was to do all of the work to the bike on my own, learning as much about it as I could in the process. And so I did. The bike didn't need anything too major but the carburetors did need to be rebuilt and the tires and fluids needed to be replaced. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on but the bike was also having intermittent front brake "oddities".
On one of my first test rides after I got the carbs rebuilt I was simply taking the Hawk for a spin around the block. By the time I got to the backside of the block I could tell there was some drag taking place at the front wheel. When I came to a stop, I learned that the front brake lever had almost no travel left and was pretty much as hard as a rock. I decided to try and limp the bike back home, traveling at a very slow rate of speed. Well I only made it past a few houses before the front wheel finally locked up. Unfortunately I did not realize it right away as the tires were old so the front tire just started sliding without making much noise. I tried to keep things under control until coming to a complete stop, but I just couldn't keep the bike upright.
So there I was in front of my neighbors taking a spill on my new-to-me motorcycle (I'm sure that more than one of my neighbors figured it for my mid-life crisis machine). It had to have looked hilarious because it all happened in "super slo-mo". As I was battling to keep things under control the front tire finally started to kick sideway just before I came to a complete stop. I started to fall sideways while still rolling forward. Keep in mind that I had just taken ownership of the Hawk after driving all the way to Seattle and back to acquire it. The first thought going through my mind was that I did not want any damage occurring to the bike.
What happened next was truly embarrassing as I decided to use my body as sort of a human engine guard. In reality I ended up looking like a failed rodeo cowboy competing in a calf roping competition — the part when they try to wrestle the calf to the ground. For a while my boot sort of skidded along the pavement like a flat track rider while I tried to ease the bike down towards the pavement. At the very last second my boot sole caught traction on the asphalt. I still had a grip on the bars and tried to set them down as gently as I could while I was sliding along. But when my boot caught I ended up rolling feet over head with my legs sort of shooting up into the air cartwheel style before plunking back down on the pavement. Then it was over. As I sat there on my butt all I could think about was the Hawk. Fortunately a scratched up bar end weight and foot peg were the only items that suffered any damage. My jacket didn't even have a single scuff on it and my helmet was hardly even scratched. This incident had to have been one of the goofiest looking get-offs of all time.
Perhaps most amazingly, when I looked around to see if anyone was outside, there was no one to be seen. So I picked the bike back up and drug it along as close to the curb as I could get it — that was fun with the front wheel locked up. I walked home, got a wrench and returned to crack open the brake fluid bleeder on the caliper for a very brief moment. That relieved enough pressure in the system for me to ride the bike back home. Only afterwards when I was changing out the brake fluid would I discover that the tiny little expansion return duct that fed back into the master cylinder had become clogged with crud over time as the previous owner hadn't kept up with the maintenance. I suppose that I was pretty fortunate that I hadn't been ripping down the street instead when the front brake finally locked up.
On one of my first test rides after I got the carbs rebuilt I was simply taking the Hawk for a spin around the block. By the time I got to the backside of the block I could tell there was some drag taking place at the front wheel. When I came to a stop, I learned that the front brake lever had almost no travel left and was pretty much as hard as a rock. I decided to try and limp the bike back home, traveling at a very slow rate of speed. Well I only made it past a few houses before the front wheel finally locked up. Unfortunately I did not realize it right away as the tires were old so the front tire just started sliding without making much noise. I tried to keep things under control until coming to a complete stop, but I just couldn't keep the bike upright.
So there I was in front of my neighbors taking a spill on my new-to-me motorcycle (I'm sure that more than one of my neighbors figured it for my mid-life crisis machine). It had to have looked hilarious because it all happened in "super slo-mo". As I was battling to keep things under control the front tire finally started to kick sideway just before I came to a complete stop. I started to fall sideways while still rolling forward. Keep in mind that I had just taken ownership of the Hawk after driving all the way to Seattle and back to acquire it. The first thought going through my mind was that I did not want any damage occurring to the bike.
What happened next was truly embarrassing as I decided to use my body as sort of a human engine guard. In reality I ended up looking like a failed rodeo cowboy competing in a calf roping competition — the part when they try to wrestle the calf to the ground. For a while my boot sort of skidded along the pavement like a flat track rider while I tried to ease the bike down towards the pavement. At the very last second my boot sole caught traction on the asphalt. I still had a grip on the bars and tried to set them down as gently as I could while I was sliding along. But when my boot caught I ended up rolling feet over head with my legs sort of shooting up into the air cartwheel style before plunking back down on the pavement. Then it was over. As I sat there on my butt all I could think about was the Hawk. Fortunately a scratched up bar end weight and foot peg were the only items that suffered any damage. My jacket didn't even have a single scuff on it and my helmet was hardly even scratched. This incident had to have been one of the goofiest looking get-offs of all time.
Perhaps most amazingly, when I looked around to see if anyone was outside, there was no one to be seen. So I picked the bike back up and drug it along as close to the curb as I could get it — that was fun with the front wheel locked up. I walked home, got a wrench and returned to crack open the brake fluid bleeder on the caliper for a very brief moment. That relieved enough pressure in the system for me to ride the bike back home. Only afterwards when I was changing out the brake fluid would I discover that the tiny little expansion return duct that fed back into the master cylinder had become clogged with crud over time as the previous owner hadn't kept up with the maintenance. I suppose that I was pretty fortunate that I hadn't been ripping down the street instead when the front brake finally locked up.