A Bike with a Broken Heart

By: Jeanette Tran

So I picked up my bike from my friend's garage on Friday night, and I was very excited because this was going to be the first time I was going to really ride it. That night I also had dinner plans with a group of friends, and I was sure enough looking forward to seeing everyone's facial expression when I ride up on my new bike for the very first time. So I gear up and get ready to go, sit on the bike and start her up! She sounds amazing! I ended up sitting there for a split second just taking it all in, and then I began to fiddle with the clutch and break lever to get a feel for everything. After that is done, I take off and hop onto the freeway. Before I even realized it, I was already up to speed limit and zooming by other cars around me.

About fifteen minutes after riding on the freeway, the low fuel gaslight starts flashing at me. It is something so simple, yet I am completely in awe at it.. All of my previous motorcycles never had such an indicator, so despite the fact that I had no gas in my bike, I was still thrilled at the fact that I was being told I have no gas. So I pulled over at the next exit where I knew for sure that there would be a gas station. Before I pulled off the freeway, I did a quick run through of all the steps I would have to take in case I ran into a red light at the top of the freeway ramp exit. The ramp where I exited there was a slight incline, so luckily I had thought about the motions I was going to be taking because I did indeed run into a red light.

I sat there at the stoplight behind another car for a good few minutes and just shifted my weight from left to right. Little did I know, my concerns about my body and weight positioning was about to be the least of my concerns.. As the light turned green, I continued to make the turn off the freeway ramp towards the gas station. Now with the gas station within my sight, I get ready to think about the next steps I would be taking as I pull off the road into the gas station. As I do a quick check in my mirrors to see if there were any cars behind me, my heart immediately sinks. All I could see behind me was a huge cloud of white smoke. Instantly my mind went into overdrive now, and I had so much more to think about as I was pulling into the gas station. The second I pulled into the gas station right up along a pump, I cut the engine and did a full walk around of my bike. The exhaust was clearly smoking up and it would not stop. The only thing I could think of was "Are you kidding me?! The first time I can take out the bike this happens!" Immediately, I call my friend to ask him for a quick diagnosis and request for help.

On a random side note, as I walked a few feet away from my bike so that I could talk on my phone, to make my mood even worse, a lady had pulled into the pump in front of me and started yelling something. Since I was on the phone, I only half listening to her, but then she starts yelling even more telling me to move my motorcycle away so that she can pull on by. I looked at the bike, looked at the gap between the curb and then looked back at the lady. As politely as I could manage I told the lady that she has plenty of room to pull on by. "So you're telling me it's okay to hit your bike then?" Wow.. No lady, I just told you to pull around my bike, not hit it. As she got into her car and pulled around my bike (with PLENTY of room to spare) she yelled out her window about how this is a gas station to pump gas, not for me to be on the phone. It saddens me to see such a lack of respect for not just motorcycle riders, but the lack of general respect for people as it is. Especially considering the fact that it was a motorcycle parked next to the pump, and not a car.. If it was a car parked at the pump...what was the lady going to complain about then? Bad timing with the bike, and bad timing with people.

After that escapade with the lady, I continued my phone conversation with my friend, and we figured there was nothing else that we could do at the moment because it sounded more like an engine problem than anything else. Next step was to just load the bike up and take it home... The next morning when I took a look at the bike again sitting there in the garage, a nice dime size puddle of oil sat beneath the bike. Over the weekend, I watched the puddle of oil gradually increase, and with that, my heart to sinks even further.

So yet another motorcycle adventure to log, and many nights in the near future burning the midnight oil.

Published: Sep 21, 2009

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