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Serendipity and the art of
motorcycle purchasing
There are those who steadfastly believe
that there are no greater influences than our own incompetence. I don’t
think this is the case. There are no coincidences. Everything happens for
a reason. So when I set off on a sunny Sunday morning, pillion with my
surrogate kid brother, I knew the good feeling I had, had little to do
with the weather and the momentarily elevated state of my bank account.
(the luxury of an account balance that doesn’t attract outrageous account
keeping fees, but only until the loan is spent).
I was chasing an ad in the Sunday paper. It sounded the goods. The guy
selling sounded genuine, so I figured it was worth a look.
So anyway, the sun was shining, and we had to go only one suburb away,
which is good because I’m a terrible pillion. Waiting in the guy’s
driveway was a CBR1000 in bloody good nick. I looked it over, picked some
faults, haggled the price down and BOUGHT IT. I think it was meant for me.
So the new machine is a 1987 Honda CBR 1000. One of the red and white ones
(goes nicely with my hair). The guy selling needed the cash for a house,
he’d had it for a couple of years, ridden it a bit, paid someone else to
service it, and didn’t have much idea of its history. I was momentarily
taken aback when I discovered, filling out the forms, that he was 10 years
younger than me.
I realised straight away that someone had been playing - it wanted to lift
the front wheel. Lots.
Of course there was stuff wrong with it - a blown fork seal, sad tyres,
ripped seat, and severely buggered front discs. Even so, it still handled
very impressively. Consider taking a corner and you’re around it, sort of
thing. Replacing the fork seals and oil, we discovered it’s got
progressive springs.
I put a set of Metzelers on it, got the seat recovered and booked it in
for a service. My mechanic rang me a day later. It’d had a service within
a thousand kays of my buying it. I’ve never heard of that happening. But
the brake discs couldn’t be machined, they’d have to be replaced. Luckily
he knows a bloke who makes them for $270 a pair, where Honda charges $438
each. It took three goes to get the discs, the disc guy managed to slip a
disc and was in traction for a couple of weeks. I rode very gingerly
everywhere, which was some feat when you consider the engine has been, um,
modified. Eventually they were ready. Except that he cocked something up
and the bike shuddered alarmingly when I braked. That took another two
weeks to sort out.
Now my only drama is that all the improvements to my engine mean the
bloody thing chews through an obscene amount of petrol. So I guess, if I
want to do any serious distance, I’ll have to at least get it re-jetted.
I guess we’re never happy...
Elle
McFearsome
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