I don't know what's more disturbing, the fact that the mechanic knew the bike wasn't put together correctly and didn't care or that he didn't notice the obvious problem to begin with.
When I looked at his motorcycle I could tell something was wrong. All of the pieces were there but the bodywork didn't match up and there were gaps where pieces should have met flush. No matter, the air is warm and the sun is well above the mountains and the swell in Malibu at 9AM so we ride.
We ride around canyons, logging miles atop rainswept roads running between hill's cleavage. There's some slop in the Husqvarna's chain and the rear tire keeps stepping out on hard turns as there is too little tread left to adhere the bike to the road. It's been weeks since I've ridden the Husky hard and my skills have atrophied as I find myself running wide on fast turns and turning too soon on slow ones. He is so far ahead that I worry about riding well and getting a feel for the bike again more then catching up.
The bike's height and weight feel planted under my feet and seat but traction seems to be hit or miss. I'm too tense, too timid in my riding that only bad things will come to pass if I keep passing the signs in my head telling me to focus on form over speed. We stop and take a break at an overlook near the Rock Store, where guys on track bikes without brake lights exceed speed limits. We ride over to his house in Piuma Canyon. He brings out some wrenches and I begin removing ill-fitting bodywork.
The problem was order. All of the parts were there but because the mechanic didn't seat the gas tank properly all of the pieces that attached to the gas tank wouldn't fit. Once parts were removed and the gas tank was seated, I was able to install the aftermarket seat that was on the bike when it went into the shop but wouldn't fit after the repair. With everything installed I couldn't help but wonder about what corners the mechanic cut that can't be seen.
When I looked at his motorcycle I could tell something was wrong. All of the pieces were there but the bodywork didn't match up and there were gaps where pieces should have met flush. No matter, the air is warm and the sun is well above the mountains and the swell in Malibu at 9AM so we ride.
We ride around canyons, logging miles atop rainswept roads running between hill's cleavage. There's some slop in the Husqvarna's chain and the rear tire keeps stepping out on hard turns as there is too little tread left to adhere the bike to the road. It's been weeks since I've ridden the Husky hard and my skills have atrophied as I find myself running wide on fast turns and turning too soon on slow ones. He is so far ahead that I worry about riding well and getting a feel for the bike again more then catching up.
The bike's height and weight feel planted under my feet and seat but traction seems to be hit or miss. I'm too tense, too timid in my riding that only bad things will come to pass if I keep passing the signs in my head telling me to focus on form over speed. We stop and take a break at an overlook near the Rock Store, where guys on track bikes without brake lights exceed speed limits. We ride over to his house in Piuma Canyon. He brings out some wrenches and I begin removing ill-fitting bodywork.
The problem was order. All of the parts were there but because the mechanic didn't seat the gas tank properly all of the pieces that attached to the gas tank wouldn't fit. Once parts were removed and the gas tank was seated, I was able to install the aftermarket seat that was on the bike when it went into the shop but wouldn't fit after the repair. With everything installed I couldn't help but wonder about what corners the mechanic cut that can't be seen.
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