Shit happens. But, when there's someone to ride through some of the shit with you, it's not so bad.
A few weeks ago, my Uncle was in town from London. That Saturday he came over with my little brothers and my Mom to play Monopoly and have family dinner. Naturally, he wanted to see our garage. Being a former track guy, primarily concerned with performance oriented bikes, he was curious as to why DCar chooses to ride the type of bikes that he does. DCar just looked at his Shovelhead and talked about how he liked putting it together and learning how to take it apart. It's simple, in a way. His recent triumph? Getting the timing just right. But as always, there's always something else to change, fix or maintain. My Uncle doesn't ride anymore, but it was nice to see two people who ride for completely different reasons talk about why they love doing it.
That Sunday I headed to my Mom's for one last dinner with my Uncle and DCar rode over to his parents to see his Grandpa Bill. On the way home from his parents, his oil filter came off. I ran home, took off my heels, threw on some vans and hopped in the truck to bring him some oil.
Filling it up with more oil didn't do the trick because the oil filter wouldn't stay on. So, we decided to tow the old girl home. I won't lie, being as tiny as I am I got pretty nervous pulling the ramp out of the truck to help him load the bike in. But, I could tell he was more nervous than I was. So, I just grabbed the rear and told him I had it. Somehow, we got it in there! And then, like two degenerates covered in oil, we got Chipotle.