So here's my tale of woe.

I put my Sportster in the stealership yesterday for the 10,000 mile service, new tires, etc. A day, maybe two without my daily dose of sanity - riding to and from work.
No biggie, right.
Well, as I was getting ready for work this morning, I had a "great" idea. Why miss out on my ride? I can ride my wife's 250cc Honda Rebel to work! She only rides that on weekends, and rarely at that. I can still get in a ride!
Now, at this time, I should mention, I am 6'2" and about 240 lbs. Well, I hopped on, and instantly realized that I probably look like King Kong trying to ride a kid's tricycle. But, hey, a ride is a ride, right?
Now, I start her up, and head out. Couple of small issues. First off, I am pretty sure my weedeater has more of a growl, a more powerful sound than that Rebel. Ok, whatever, next, a Rebel's "forward" controls, with my long legs, mean my knees are up above the tank (not kidding), not the most comfortable, but I am a stuborn a$$, and the garage is already closing, so just go for it.
If you've never ridden a Rebel. You should understand that at about 3 mph, you have to shift to 2nd. About 10 mph, go to 3rd. It doesn't get any better. After you hit 5th, about 35-40 mph, after than, you just twist the throttle to the stops, and pray for a stiff tailwind and a downhill grade.
So here am I, in my black harley leather jacket, black full-faced helmet, knees in the the air above the tank, trying to lever my left foot to the point my toes are touching pavement in order to get them under the gear shifter to pop it up gears, right foot cocked 90 degree away from the bike on the peg so my size 13 foot doesn't ride the rear brake, tooling down the road, trying to get the darn thing to reach a speed where I can outrun a mildly asthamatic turtle, not to mention some idiot in a lexus that would, of course, be texting while drving.
Did I mention that the Rebel is so low to the ground that I think, maybe, my head would have been about the same level as a Honda Civic's hood ornament. No, well, it would be. So, if anyone gets close to your rear (which they will since you can't get the darn thing above 50 without getting off and pushing), they'll never see you. They'll hear you go under their wheels, but they'll never see you.
Well, I made it to work. My boss, who rides a road king just about dropped his bike laughing at me. Must have looked like a clown riding a mini-bike.

You know how when you pass a fellow rider, you wave, they wave back? Well, I swear, every rider I passes slowed, did a double take, and pointed, as if to say, "what the H. E. double hockey-sticks is that!"
Then wobbled off as if their front forks suddenly came lose on them. Doubtlessly temporarily losing control from almost crippling laughter attacks. But . . . the saga continues.

After work, gotta ride it home. Back on the bike, chin resting on my knees, shifting like a madman trying to get up to a decent speed, the little 250cc motor buzzing like a hundred mosquitoes in a tin can, struggling to get up a steep hill and uh-oh, I feel a "slight" loss of power! Quick, down shift, try to keep up momentum, nope, not happening. Engine coughs, dies, and I quickly head for the grass shoulder of the road.
Yep, out of gas!
Thankfully, I remember her bike has a reserve (my sporty is FI, 2007), switch it over, try to ride the shoulder shifting till I get enough speed to attempt merging with traffic, and twist the throttle back until the stops, all the while praying I can make it to A) a gas station, or B) home, I could care less which at this point.

Went and picked up my Harley from the dealer after I got home. Never felt so good to be on MY bike.

Moral to the story. If you have to put your hog in the shop. Just take your truck to work, get a ride from a friend, call a cab, walk, call in sick, whatever, because unless you're under 5 feet tall, and weigh less than about a buck twenty, you have NO business strapping you big but on a little-bitty 250cc egg-beater.

 

Too funny, at what point did your sanity come back!!

 

gotta be about the funniest read on this board- great going!

btw, it was a honda rebel that got me to my sporty... the +2 had one and i was riding it to work pretty much every day for a coupla weeks (without a license) when she told me to get my own d*mn bike- so i did. rebels are good for something!!

 

Trusten you are funny (not funny like a clown). The situation and the way you described it are hilarious . Many times I have put myself into predicaments when on second thought and way to late I ask myself "What the hell was I thinking".

 

Epic!

 

Fellow riders,
By your gracious comments, I can tell you are both gentlemen and scholars, at least while the wife is looking, of course!
I am happy that my tale of woe was able to bring some enjoyment to the masses of fellow riders.
To answer the question, as what point did my sanity come back, the answer is ten minutes after I got home, for that is the very moment that the Harley dealership called me and said my Sportster was ready to pick up.
However, I am sad to say, my sanity was again lost, probably forever, when I was told how much I owed the dealership for two new tires, a new battery, and changing from oil to synthetic. Upon seeing the labor costs alone, I think a small, but probably important, blood vessel in my brain burst.
Let's just say that from now on, whenever I need service done at HD, I will first start buying lottery tickets, so I can hopefully win, and break even!

 

LOL, i hear ya on the shafting they do, maybe in the future you can do some of that stuff yourself as it is not really all that hard to do, a good manual and all of the help in here i bet you could do it!!!

 

thanks brother. I needed that.

 

.....great read and thanks for the laugh.........keep 2 up

 

Pretty funny story man!!!! LOL