Well, I just got the bike back from the shop. From what I can understand, the stator coil was fried so the engine wasn’t building up enough voltage to make a spark. They fixed it for free, and also did my first oil change, 3364km since I bought the bike. I rode to Sendai for a conference today and the throttle and shifter were notably smoother. They hadn’t told me about the oil change but I could tell.
Getting back on after a week of no riding was refreshing. Everything was smooth as butter snicking up through the gears, dancing around kei cars and sedans. And it never fails to put a smile on my face, that feeling of solo flight, wind whipping at my neck, tires caressing the road, real freedom. It’s truly magical.
When Ian first came to me with the idea of taking a motorcycle class I was a little reluctant. Then I realized the only thing keeping me from trying it was a general childhood reticence to do anything even slightly risky, a reticence that no longer seems to fit me. In other words, there WAS nothing stopping me, no good reason not to try. To hell with fear. Life is too short to discard your own potential triumphs.
Now I find myself telling people if they haven’t tried it, they are missing out. My, how things change. The me from 5 years ago wouldn’t recognize the me from today.
A little fear is a good thing–nature’s way of telling you to stop, think, and not be an idiot. Preservation of the species, etc.
Well, I can sort of agree. Although I would never even think about driving a motorcycle in America; the drivers are either too stupid or too aggressive (or both; depends on your location). Drivers being more reasonable in Japan, I would think about it there.
Congratulations on becoming a rider. It is probably the best way to get around Miyagi (when it’s not raining, of course!). When it’s raining it’s probably the worst way of getting around Miyagi… :)
Alors, is fear the only thing that keeps you American mongrels from being aggressive idiots? Sucre Bleu
Please excuse me as I go off to vent my tempestuous rage on the narrow motorways of my frightening, backwards province.