desert_max
Well-Known Member
I have a shop full of motorcycles. I consider myself very fortunate to be able to choose between a number of decent vintage machines for a day’s ride. I suppose if you put them all together, I could have something new and modern that’s semi-interesting, but I don’t see any fun in that. Seriously.
But lately, there’s only been one choice. I had the day off work today and as soon as the wife was gone, I gobbled down some breakfast and hit the road. Yes, on the 86 Vmax. Weather was beautiful. Spring time in Arizona. I just got back after hitting almost 300 miles. I headed south of the Metropolitan Phoenix area and into the desert hills, through the Gila River Indian reservation, across the Gillespie bridge and back into town. I took a couple of side roads and just got lost in the butterflies and mesquites by the river. Got gas three times. Getting about 30 to 32MPG.
This beast is running extraordinarily well. A pleasure to ride. Not one hitch… I’m not counting the weeping brake master cylinder that I just rebuilt. I think I might’ve overfilled it and it was coming out of the vent hole.
But why am I posting this? Because with regard to vintage machines, we don’t just get on, turn the key and ride. We have to put a little sweat equity into them. I paid my dues on this thing. It might have been one owner, but it needed some serious love. Today it paid me back.
But lately, there’s only been one choice. I had the day off work today and as soon as the wife was gone, I gobbled down some breakfast and hit the road. Yes, on the 86 Vmax. Weather was beautiful. Spring time in Arizona. I just got back after hitting almost 300 miles. I headed south of the Metropolitan Phoenix area and into the desert hills, through the Gila River Indian reservation, across the Gillespie bridge and back into town. I took a couple of side roads and just got lost in the butterflies and mesquites by the river. Got gas three times. Getting about 30 to 32MPG.
This beast is running extraordinarily well. A pleasure to ride. Not one hitch… I’m not counting the weeping brake master cylinder that I just rebuilt. I think I might’ve overfilled it and it was coming out of the vent hole.
But why am I posting this? Because with regard to vintage machines, we don’t just get on, turn the key and ride. We have to put a little sweat equity into them. I paid my dues on this thing. It might have been one owner, but it needed some serious love. Today it paid me back.