The big deal about the last day of class is that you have to have your bikes out of the Cage and off campus by the end of class. I wasn't sweating it though because I had been able to get the interceptor started last week and expected the same result today.
So you can imagine my dismay at the fact that I couldn't get it started again. I tired all the tricks that Ken had showed me to no avail. After about an hour of zero results, and with panic setting in, this grizzled old dude walks by and asks what the problem is. I explain I had had it running last week but now it is doing the same old thing, turning over but not catching. And he asks the first question anyone should ask when a bike won't start, "is the gas on?"
See, on a motorcycle, for reasons still not adequately explained to me, there is a switch on the gas tank that turn them on, off and to the reserve tank. The reserve tank is effectively that light that comes on in cars telling you that the car is almost out of gas. On a motorcycle you run till the bike dies, flip the switch to reserve and get your tail to a gas station (you usually have a gallon or two at that point). This is a really fun trick on a freeway as you are splitting lanes trying to pass semis on either side of you. Off has been a mystery to me, I suspect it is probably there to make taking off a gas tank less of a fuel splattering exercise. I dunno. In any case, a bike will not run, or maybe only run for a minute with the switch in the off position. Mine was in the off position. I turned it on, cranked it a couple of times and she roared back to life.
Great, it was running, I had all my gear packed and said my goodbyes, then I noticed the rain. Pouring rain, Portland rain, rain that you can feel in you bones isn't going to stop for the next week.
The plan had been I'd ride the GPZ home (the bike I had ridden to class) and Jackie would drop me back off at class to pick up the Interceptor. Now I would be taking two trips through the poring rain, something I had vowed I would never do. I was thinking of maybe just parking the interceptor in the parking lot and picking it up later in the evening in case the rain broke for a bit. Dave Miller recommended against it. He pointed out that campus was located in a very poor neighborhood with lots of homeless people, that a quarter mile away there was a scrap metal yard that bought metal for recycling and lastly, that my former piece of scrap metal could easily be rolled there.
To compound all my problems I had grabbed a new pair of gloves that I had bought at a garage sale that, on the way to school, I realized were way to small for my hands and which preventing me from really riding safely (e.g. being able to reach the breaks, etc.) So I mounted the GPZ in the pouring frigid rain and began my ride home. On the freeway it takes about ten minutes. However, while I was now breaking my vow to never ride in the rain there was no way I was getting on the freeway. I instead took the side roads. It took a half hour. By the time I got to Jackie's I couldn't feel my fingers enough to take off my helmet strap. I walked into the bathroom and filled the sink with what I hoped wasn't scalding water and just massaged my hands in there. I had to replace the water three times because my hands were cooling the water down room temperature. It took five minutes before the burning started and ten more before it quit.
After pickup my gloves we set off to pick up the interceptor. Riding back home on the interceptor I determined that the front and rear breaks need A) new break pads and B) had to have the break cylinders rebuilt. But I made it home and all is well.
Also for any of you that have ridden in the rain, what is the deal with all the water funneling down to you crotch. It is so odd. You take off all you water proof gear and the crotch on you pants is just totally wet even if the rest of you is dry. It is bewildering and really difficult to explain to someone believably.
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