THE MOTOR-SURFER

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Documenting life during the first attempt at restoring a vintage motorcycle.

Similar to the zen -like feeling that is realized through surfing,
motorcycle repair can elevate the mind to a meditative state that eludes time and space...
Meaning I obsess over it, get frustrated, yell, laugh at myself and overall waste a lot of time.

Wednesday

Pieces-of-the-Pie _ What is the Frickin Hold Up?

Almost...

So... I may have claimed a few weeks ago that I was this [---] close to completing the motorcycle that I've been painstakingly rebuilding for almost a year now (in my spare time of course). Well the good news is... I finished it. The bad news is... it doesn't run (only downhill for now). It was just a couple weeks ago, Danny, his mustache and I tightened up the last few remaining bolts, put a bottle of champagne on ice and took her out on the street. While Danny documented, I filled her up with gas, strapped on my helmet and was ready to launch into the night sky. However I immediately noticed gas was leaking from somewhere and the lights didn't come on when I turned the key... not good. I wasn't giving up. What's a little gas leak gonna do? First kick... nothing. Second kick...nothing. Third kick...gas is starting to pool under the bike. OK FINE - I guess potentially bursting into flames is not a wise gamble.

DEFEATED... we push the bike back to our makeshift shop. After a couple days of depressed pondering, prodding & probing, I realized one of the wires was incorrectly connected, the fuse had blown and I wasn't getting a spark. I decide that I need professional help. So I'm having a mechanic go over my work to see where I went wrong. Getting closer...

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