I have a Honda SH300. I love it. It travels at traffic speed on a motorway, behaves like a scooter in town. It has a skirt, a screen, bar muffs and heated grips to keep me dry and warm in the wet, and holes drilled in the panel behind the radiator to keep my ankles warm when the fan cuts in, which is often in town, as the radiator is marginal. It is 4 years old, and has behaved faultlessly despite quite long periods of inactivity. It's become a friend, and I know I look like an Italian banker on his way to Porto Fino for a dirty weekend with his mistress whenever I go somewhere I'm too lazy to get to on a proper bike. Like Sainsburys, or Chiswick. Despite the fact that I look like a tit.
And it needs a service, a great big one, that includes new brake pads and tyres, a caliper scrub, a throttle barrel lube and a whole load of love that all machines need on an annual basis. A clean of the bits that you don't ever get to otherwise, some new coolant to stop the fur in the system, a scrub of the rear shocks, and getting all the crap off it that just happens when you ride a bike. A good wipe over, more than just the visual.
But I cannot believe what a complete cunt it is to work on. It's taken 5 hours of head-scratching and swearing to get to the point where things can only get better. Valve clearances done, oil changed, plug renewed, but then I had to remove the rack to get the front wheel off, the exhaust header has to come off to get the rear wheel off, the front mudguard has to come off to get to the radiator, and every fucking panel is held on with 'special clips' that break or disappear somewhere within the bowels of the plastic and wiring, 'tabs' that refuse to let go, and multiple different bolts, screws and washers that I'll struggle to remember in the way back. Jesus H Christ.
Still, it will be like new by the end of next week. Probably.
I have a Honda SH300. I love it. It travels at traffic speed on a motorway, behaves like a scooter in town. It has a skirt, a screen, bar muffs and heated grips to keep me dry and warm in the wet, and holes drilled in the panel behind the radiator to keep my ankles warm when the fan cuts in, which is often in town, as the radiator is marginal. It is 4 years old, and has behaved faultlessly despite quite long periods of inactivity. It's become a friend, and I know I look like an Italian banker on his way to Porto Fino for a dirty weekend with his mistress whenever I go somewhere I'm too lazy to get to on a proper bike. Like Sainsburys, or Chiswick. Despite the fact that I look like a tit.
And it needs a service, a great big one, that includes new brake pads and tyres, a caliper scrub, a throttle barrel lube and a whole load of love that all machines need on an annual basis. A clean of the bits that you don't ever get to otherwise, some new coolant to stop the fur in the system, a scrub of the rear shocks, and getting all the crap off it that just happens when you ride a bike. A good wipe over, more than just the visual.
But I cannot believe what a complete cunt it is to work on. It's taken 5 hours of head-scratching and swearing to get to the point where things can only get better. Valve clearances done, oil changed, plug renewed, but then I had to remove the rack to get the front wheel off, the exhaust header has to come off to get the rear wheel off, the front mudguard has to come off to get to the radiator, and every fucking panel is held on with 'special clips' that break or disappear somewhere within the bowels of the plastic and wiring, 'tabs' that refuse to let go, and multiple different bolts, screws and washers that I'll struggle to remember in the way back. Jesus H Christ.
Still, it will be like new by the end of next week. Probably.
^Stupid fucking bike.