A Wench Wrenching

It's a known fact that the more of your life you spend riding there will be equal amounts of time invested in wrenching... whether you are doing it yourself or paying someone else to do it.  In my case, I simply can't afford to pay to have the maintenance done on my bikes so I do the majority of it on my own or with the help of friends. I hang on by the thread of a bolt, by the fiber of a cloth, by the link of a chain; barely keeping up with the maintenance on the suggested intervals.  A lot of people think it's pretty cool that a chick wrenches on her bikes but as much as I enjoy it, I do it more out of dire necessity than I do for cool points -although I like cool points... way more than I like cookies so I'll take 'em if you're givin' 'em out!

The thing about motorcycles is the more you get to know about them... the more you either come to love them or become completely turned off by them;  usually you fall deeper into love with them - unless you're suffering from a psychological disconnect from all things awesome. In all that I've learned in all of the miles, there is still a LOT I have left to learn.  But sometimes I take a minute to reflect on how far I've come and it amazes me that I've ridden through as many different pairs of tires; that I've done as many oil changes, coolant flushes and other trivial procedures as I have... to the point where sometimes it seems like more of a chore than it does a learning experience.  But then I think about the fact that I, like many other people, am prone to taking things for granted... like how much wrenching has really evolved me as a person and has cut further into the love of motorcycles that I have, and how much I really enjoy it when I am knuckles deep in a task... even if I am poking fun or mocking my own frustration. It also helps that I have friends with a sense of humor.

Wrenching Bitch Face... well kinda... I was really just goofing off and looking like a dork...

Last year, after swapping the motor into Amelia (my beloved ZX6R), I had set aside some of the pieces from the old track bike to use as refurbish bits.  I hadn't gotten around to getting the jobs done since they weren't immediately pressing, but on Easter I decided that the hesitancy in my front caliper pistons (a creaking and delayed engagement) was something I should probably take as a sign that it's time. Besides, I had to replace that low beam-bulb as well.  I had made mention of the upcoming task to a friend of mine who later popped in with his Vacula* bleeder system and made the whole draining and bleeding process 3 times quicker. I mean, I'm not normally one to endorse products here, but this thing has made multiple brake fluid changes so easy... but you'll need an air compressor or someone with a really strong set of lips and vacuum pressure in his/her lungs... maybe even a tolerance for really awful chemical flavorings.

I had already started disassembling some bits from the other bike and decided that while I was at it, I would replace the master cylinder, the front brake reservoir and the calipers since mine appeared to need a little love... although not as bad as they could be.  Why not right?  I mean... how much beer do we have?

Brake pads still have some life... calipers could use a little cleaning but not bad for 40+ thousand miles

The brake task was done in record time.  I took the bike out for a test ride and while the brakes worked significantly better with improved response (read also; 'the way they should') I noticed that at 9,000RPMs and up my motor let out a significantly improved (read also; degraded) grind from within her motor.  My heart sank a little but I still hadn't done the oil change yet and that bike tends to become a little outspoken when her oil isn't kept up to spec.  She had been running low lately though so of course the motor is burning it... orrrrrrrrr those stupid oil fairies are back again.  This is the life on two wheels. I let out a bittersweet smile, gave her an endearing pat on the gas tank, and continued on a meager pace home.

Once Vacula (read also; " The Evaculator" "Evacula" and a few other nicknames we threw out whilst making jokes throughout the process) had done it's job, my friend was on his way.  I was left to my own devices and I cracked a fresh beer and got situated with oil and filter and more wrenches.  We were alone, me and my bike,  as we had been so many times before in this garage.  As I carefully unbuttoned her fairings and laid them aside, unscrewed the oil drain bolt, the oil filter, and waited patiently for it all to drain, I realized that while I wasn't even really thinking about the process, I was exactly where I wanted to be on a nice evening.

Fresh Brewed Daily

As the oil drained out I got to work on cleaning up the chain and spraying it down with fresh lube; wiping off the excess and pausing to admire random components on this bike that I have owned and ridden the crap out of for years but always find something to pause and swoon over; it's a beautiful machine with beautiful lines, beautiful power, beautiful everything.  It's a love affair, for sure, these bikes. "Just hang on for me a little longer, baby... we are meant to do great things together." I muttered as I examined the drain bolt and the filter.  I've been uttering these words for years, it seems, and yet I am not ungrateful for the mileage I've gotten out of the ZX6R.  It has been a great bike, and no doubt will be for thousands more miles.

A lot of people buy bikes, burn 'em up and get rid of 'em and that's a nice luxury to have, but at the same time there is something I enjoy about rebuilding - even if I haven't formally hit the rebuild point and I am still holding her together with spare parts... something about taking something and trying to make the most of it.  As much as I probably ought to, I don't see things as disposable and when a bike has carried me this far, and survived longer than any boyfriend I've ever had... there is something to taking a few minutes and spending some quality time in a garage with the vessel that has always been able to keep up with me and readily fires up for me whenever I need it.

Sun-faded rear sets... but they still hold me up