puppy love, my first bike

However, let’s take a step back, Grasshopper.

You have said:

I am in love with my R1200RT …

I don’t want this motorcycle to ever wear out!!

Consult your Bartlett’s:

“The marriage of Love and Economy rarely survives its first infidelity.”

Now, think back to Charlie Wilson’s War :

“What are you, an infant?”

You state that you own this fine machinery:



DRZ 450

Triumph Bonneville

Since you do, it seems likely you are a seasoned rider, but a novice monk with a slate blank of wisdom, Grasshopper — or scrawled with juvenile notions of love and desire.

Think to the beginning sequence from “Kung Fu”:

David Carradine lifts the red hot cauldron with the insides of his forearms.

Think to the first Kill Bill:

Uma Thurman up on the monk’s mountain, learning her craft.

As with any fine relationship, you will enjoy your R12RT

(she will tell you her indian name in due time).

As with all fine dogs of destiny, she has a mission in your life. At its conclusion, she will move on to her next mission. She has work to do for you, and others, she is not yours.

In the short time you have together, keep a diary of your adventures. You will surely forget the many telling details. Organize them by tiresets and oil changes:

20110604 Michelin Pilot tires

20111004 @ 72k miles, BMW Synthetic

20111005 Diary of Adventure #22 …

20151005 Diary of Adventure #111 …

Any efforts or desire on your part to mess with her cycle in your life

and, here’s a historical quote to consider:

confucious at his side said,

“desire is the wellspring of pain, look far, look wide”

Rick wrote:

“It has a total of three miles on it. I did not want the dealer to put even those miles on the bike, as I am more than particular about my machinery. It will hopefully be finished (needs another 6 hours of work) in time for the last race of the year at Willow. I do the work myself.”

I used to race a filthy R1100SA. Racers taught me otherwise.

Before launch know every pinhead Class I weep of cherry juice, every grit and soot on your brake pads.

She’s your Space Shuttle.

There are no redundancies, no backup systems, everything must work.

Her first failure => your final failure.

Unless you want to spend time with Major Tom, Dr Strangelove, Sally Ride or St Peter

Know every part of her better than your mistress’ upturned ass.

Touch every single bolt.

Wipe every trace of snot, every trail of tear, every visor smear.

Finger her repeatedly.

Sniff her crotch.

Kneel before her, bow your head

Eventually you might collect your experience in a story of some sort and shape.

In the end, ownership is bondage for all parties. It is not the bike but the experiences she shows you that will matter.

When you fight a tankslapper you will lose.

There are forces bigger, badder than your desire.

If you try to wrestle this heifer, she will have no choice but to hurt you. Give her her head. Like the weather she will need to keep moving. Like a shark she will have to never stop. Dolphins have to choose to breathe. Don’t make her have to choose between you and other sirens, for you will surely lose.

Take a cleansing breath. Do not reply. Disregard this post. Be assured that I am a random dickhead on this forum. Go on about your business.

Like any uncle, I’ll look forward to hearing what her indian-name became some years from now.

Have a nice day.