Just a Thought on Maintenance
Posted: Tue Apr 24, 2012 8:31 am
I had something of an epiphany while riding to work yesterday, and maybe it's not worth sharing, but it sure felt like it at the time.
When my wife and I started getting into street bikes (instead of dirt bikes, that is) last spring, I spent a fair bit of time looking for motorcycle maintenance guides and such. I'm a relatively experienced car mechanic myself -- never been to any schools for it or worked in a shop, but I used to ditch high-school daily to run around with a group of friends a few years older than me and we did a lot of wrenching in one or the others driveways. Clutches, drive shafts, brakes, that sorta thing, and now I'm accomplished enough to handle most basic repairs on my own vehicles given a properly detailed manual. However, I knew then and still know now very little about motorcycle mechanics, and it's a goal of mine to get as proficient with them as I am with four-wheeled locomotion.
Anyway, in searching for different print resources, I ended up just buying a Clymer manual for our bikes and those have served me fairly well. During the search though, I stumbled across a book called something like "The Zen of Motorcycle Maintenance". I don't recall the exact title, but I'll wager most of you do. Now, I haven't read this book and I don't own a copy yet, but I remember thinking when I first saw it that it was sorta tongue-in-cheek. It conjured an image of bald monks with hound dog eyes sitting in a circle around a dismantled bike, chanting in archaic verse while tendrils of incense wafted about the room. This is, of course, as far from the 'biker' image as you can get, and it's also quite a bit off from your typical image of a bike mechanic. So, I took it as kinda a joke at the time. After all, what could motorcycle maintenance have to do with Zen?
I don't know how the author of that book relates motorcycle maintenance to a spiritual quest for inner peace, but yesterday, I discovered how I do. I was sitting at a red light, pole position, and as my motor wound down a Jeep Cherokee coasted to a stop behind me. Once the exhaust died down to it's customary low rumble, I heard a horrific rod knock and was immediately terrified that is was coming from the 800cc powerplant under my butt. With my helmet on, I couldn't pinpoint the exact source of the sound, but it sure seemed like it could be coming from my bike. I told myself it had to be coming from the Jeep behind me, and continued on to the next red light, where, of course, I confirmed that it wasn't the bike.
We've all been in this situation I'm sure, especially on bikes where every road noise and road smell is readily noticeable. Five miles down a city street and you can smell burning clutch, overheated brakes, slowly roasting plastics, gasoline, melting electrical components and that oh-so-uniquely summer of smells, boiling antifreeze. And in all that calamity, your only peace of mind HAS to be your own devotion to your bikes maintenance demands. In our inner spirit, we find peace in the knowledge that no pending mechanical failure could have gone unnoticed or unchecked in our own motors, because we were just in there.
So, that's my epiphany. Sound off if you've had similar experiences and tell us what your own approach to motorcycle maintenance is like.
When my wife and I started getting into street bikes (instead of dirt bikes, that is) last spring, I spent a fair bit of time looking for motorcycle maintenance guides and such. I'm a relatively experienced car mechanic myself -- never been to any schools for it or worked in a shop, but I used to ditch high-school daily to run around with a group of friends a few years older than me and we did a lot of wrenching in one or the others driveways. Clutches, drive shafts, brakes, that sorta thing, and now I'm accomplished enough to handle most basic repairs on my own vehicles given a properly detailed manual. However, I knew then and still know now very little about motorcycle mechanics, and it's a goal of mine to get as proficient with them as I am with four-wheeled locomotion.
Anyway, in searching for different print resources, I ended up just buying a Clymer manual for our bikes and those have served me fairly well. During the search though, I stumbled across a book called something like "The Zen of Motorcycle Maintenance". I don't recall the exact title, but I'll wager most of you do. Now, I haven't read this book and I don't own a copy yet, but I remember thinking when I first saw it that it was sorta tongue-in-cheek. It conjured an image of bald monks with hound dog eyes sitting in a circle around a dismantled bike, chanting in archaic verse while tendrils of incense wafted about the room. This is, of course, as far from the 'biker' image as you can get, and it's also quite a bit off from your typical image of a bike mechanic. So, I took it as kinda a joke at the time. After all, what could motorcycle maintenance have to do with Zen?
I don't know how the author of that book relates motorcycle maintenance to a spiritual quest for inner peace, but yesterday, I discovered how I do. I was sitting at a red light, pole position, and as my motor wound down a Jeep Cherokee coasted to a stop behind me. Once the exhaust died down to it's customary low rumble, I heard a horrific rod knock and was immediately terrified that is was coming from the 800cc powerplant under my butt. With my helmet on, I couldn't pinpoint the exact source of the sound, but it sure seemed like it could be coming from my bike. I told myself it had to be coming from the Jeep behind me, and continued on to the next red light, where, of course, I confirmed that it wasn't the bike.
We've all been in this situation I'm sure, especially on bikes where every road noise and road smell is readily noticeable. Five miles down a city street and you can smell burning clutch, overheated brakes, slowly roasting plastics, gasoline, melting electrical components and that oh-so-uniquely summer of smells, boiling antifreeze. And in all that calamity, your only peace of mind HAS to be your own devotion to your bikes maintenance demands. In our inner spirit, we find peace in the knowledge that no pending mechanical failure could have gone unnoticed or unchecked in our own motors, because we were just in there.
So, that's my epiphany. Sound off if you've had similar experiences and tell us what your own approach to motorcycle maintenance is like.