Have you ever thought about the many lessons you can learn simply by owning a motorcycle? Over the next few posts, I’m going to share a few of the things I have learned. Feel free to add your comments and pass on your own lessons.
What’s In You?
I’ve been around bikes most of my life. I’ve been riding dirt bikes since I was twelve, and had my first street bike before I was seventeen.
I remember blowing the engine in that first motorcycle (a Kawasaki Vulcan 550). I spent the next month looking at my engine, spread out over the driveway of a friend’s house. Fortunately, I had a friend who’s father was a small engine mechanic, and he put the bike back together, with us handing him tools and trying to get a little dirty with him.
I also remember how insecure I felt doing repairs on my bike. I grew up without a dad around, and even with my step-father in the picture, I had never been shown how to do anything on a bike. In fact, the reason my engine had blown in the first place was because I really didn’t know that you had to check (and top up) the engine oil. When we opened the motor, there was almost no oil to be found in the engine. (That’s a different lesson I’ve learned owning a motorcycle).
However, because I was never shown how to work on a bike, I was very insecure when something had to be done. I can remember one time when I couldn’t get my dirt bike to start. I remembered someone telling me that the first two questions to ask when your bike wont start are: Is there gas and Is there spark? So, I decided to see if there was spark. I took the plug out and held it in my hand and tried to start the bike. It was too bright out to tell if there was a spark at the end of the plug. So, I removed the plug from the wire, and stuck my finger in there. Yes, there was spark. No, it did not feel nice.
I spent about ten years without a motorcycle, and then began riding again in my early 30’s. I was now a man, a husband, a father. And yet, when I needed to do something on my bike, even a simple oil change, I knew for certain: I wasn’t a mechanic. But I was determined to learn.
When I began, I solicited the help of some trusted friends. As much as we loved to pick on each other, they knew I was insecure in this area, and always treated me with respect even when I didn’t know much about fixing my bike. Well, usually they treated me with respect. At first, they had some fun at my lack of tools. Slowly, I built up a decent set of tools. While there’s always room for more, I think I have a decent selection today.
It started out pretty simple. I did a lot of watching and learning. Guys would do something once, then have me do it while watching over my shoulder. And I learned. A lot. I went from learning how to do an oil change to where I can now adjust valves, fix wiring issues, etc. Sure, there is still a massive amount that I can learn, but I’ve come a long way over the years. Yes, there are many times when I like the security of having someone help me out who knows more than I do about engines, but if needed, I will attempt pretty well any job on my own (along with the help of my trusted manual).
Here’s what I’ve learned about myself thanks to owning a motorcycle: If I can get past my insecurity about something, I open doors of possibility I never thought could open.
I think every person who owns a motorcycle should learn to do their own basic maintenance. If I can learn, anyone can. It simply takes a willingness to overcome that insecurity hurdle. In doing so, it’s amazing what you can learn about yourself.
We use to teach a basic maintenance course called “Tech Talk”. It ran it’s course, so we put it on the shelf for a few years. But I loved sitting in those classes, watching new riders learn how to maintain their chain, check their plugs, change their oil. With each lesson, you could see the confidence rise with many of those in the class.
If you ride, and you take your bike into the shop for every little thing, perhaps it’s time for a lesson. Pick up a service manual (I think the Clymers Manual is a great place to start), and begin the journey of learning your own bike.
It’s a lesson you’ll never forget.
