This morning I was the owner of a motorcycle. This afternoon, on the carpet where the motorcycle rested, lies a helmet, a jacket and a pair of saddlebags. Pitiful. It all started on the way to work. I was tooling along a quiet road to avoid the heavy traffic on Bunker and the detour on Main Street. I hear a sound. Did I drop something? Did I run over something? I didn't see anything in the road. My motor sounds louder. As I approach a stoplight I hear a heavy, metallic, ka-chunk. My heart cringes. This does not sound good. The sound came from between my feet - the motor. At the red light the motor dies. There is no starting it. I wait until traffic clears and run it over to the corner and onto the sidewalk. I try to start it again. Nothing. I get off and look at the motor. I look at the other side. I don't see anything missing or dangling or different. I try a couple more times. My headlight is on so I know I have battery power. The gas tank is nearly full. The oil level is good. It still won't start. I could look at it all day long and not know what is wrong. The time is 7:10 a.m. I call my work. The office manager says she will come and get me. She helps me push the bike across Hanson and into a parking lot. I get permission from the store owner to leave the bike there a while. As we walk into work I meet a friend, Ed. Ed has helped me with my motorcycle problems. He says we'll look at it at 9:30. At 9:30 we look at it. Doesn't look good. He rocks it back and forth, back and forth. We talk about how much money is worth putting into this old bike. We discuss where to get it fixed. Suddenly it starts. I drive it to the repair shop and he follows me. I leave it running while the mechanic comes out to look at it. He guns the engine. We can all hear the crunching noise in the motor. It's not safe to drive. The repair estimate is almost half the cost of the bike when I bought it two years ago. I could trailer it home and sell it on Craig's list. I do not want the hassle of a dead motorcycle and dealing with Craig's list. Ed talks the mechanic into buying it from me. I don't own a motorcycle right now and I'm sad about that. But I am grateful the motor didn't seize up when I was going at a high speed. I'm grateful this happened at work where my wonderful friends could easily come to my aid and rescue me. I'm grateful the bike didn't nickle and dime me to death. The Suzuki worked fine until it didn't work at all. I'm grateful it started at 9:30 and I could get an instant mechanical prognosis instead of trailering it to a shop and waiting for two weeks before hearing the bad news. Ed gave me a ride home to pick up my car. I immediately get into the car and go back to work. Before I get to work, he has another motorcycle picked out for me to look at. I will get another but not today. Right now I'm still adjusting to this day that did not go as I had planned.
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