Brakes were like old abused machinery laying dormant in the farm yard. Chain was like something you'd see holding the gate closed at an old junkyard, rusty and malignant, yet still useful. Engine oil was was used, abused, and then some. calipers were dirty, begging for attention. filters were begging for a chance to breathe.
Then she was reborn. everything replaced, revamped, tuned... and all but tested. The f3 has laid dormant for six months, starving for attention, beckoning. I am actually getting emotional when considering the neglect the machine has received since the fateful events that transpired last summer. A curious fail in Tennessee, and then an unfortunate high side on the way home from droopycocks parents ranch... I wouldn't have blamed the bike if the brakes failed on the first attempted and she threw me into the dumpster like a man who's come home to his wife drunk and belligerent one too many times.
But it was bliss. Euphoria.
Still without my license i had to take my broken workhorse to the parking lot to test her modifications to ensure all was good... after all, she was now holding a salvage title due to her bruised body work. not the spring chicken it once was.
She performed flawlessly, and the smile on my face might have have torn a muscle in my cheeks if it weren't for the helmet holding my grin back. Time after time the brakes worked flawlessly, and even when user error presented itself and i neglected to pull the clutch in early enough on a quick stop she STILL stopped to my satisfaction, only uttering a slight grunt from her gearbox telling me what she was going through.
to be on my bike for fifteen minutes, was worth the entire six months of waiting in anticipation. Still stuck in a sort of purgatory, i wait for next Tuesday with anticipation... as i am sure the bike is waiting eagerly for our next encounter as well.
