It’s summer. Finally.
This is frustrating because my bike is in pieces on a mechanic’s bench and I’m going quietly nuts without it.
Perhaps it's appropriate that a Harley is essentially heavy metal, given a bike's effect on a rider's life.
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| the problem |
The saga began when the quiet rattle in the engine that old bikers told me was nothing (because they’re deafened by prolonged exposure to wind noise) turned out to be Something. A faulty bearing, in fact. Which doesn’t sound too serious to a non-initiate, but if it’s the bearing at the bottom of the crankshaft, then when it breaks up, the resulting shrapnel rockets around cutting up the crankshaft, the gasket, the pistons....
In other words, my baby needs a new engine.
That is: I need to sweet-talk the bank into lending me the wherewithal to pay for it.
And it’s summer and sunny and perfect for riding, for the exhilaration of the wind noise in my ears and purring of an engine eating up the miles. If only...
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| the weather |
So I vacillate between a summer high (especially whenever my mechanic calls with good news about parts and progress) and deep depression (when I remember I can’t ride and whenever my mechanic calls me with not-so-good news about parts and progress). And in this seemingly bipolar state - I really need my lithium back!
Which the mechanic and I are working on... Sigh.
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| very large sigh |
