My bike has been running beautifully for some 6 months now having finally rectified a problem which we never actually identified.
Anyhow, I walked out of the supermarket last night and there was a really ratty old GN250 parked next to me. No side cover ... faded paint ... scratched etc.
I had just put my lid on when the owner walked out. We exchanged pleasantries and talked about our respective bikes briefly. His was an '81 (I'm sure that's what he said) with 51000km on the clock. We prepared to leave and as he'd verbally admired my bike I thought I'd do a nice rapid exit so the exhaust could sing it's sweet song. Hit the starter and for the first time in 6 months it failed to start first time. "This is embarrasing" I muttered. Stabbed the starter button again and the engine still didn't fire. "Of all the times I've started it in the last six months why do this now when I'm parked beside a rat bike and his young owner" I thought darkly. I could feel myself shrinking. Stabbed the starter button again and it wound over with no sign of firing up again. The young fella offered ... "Would you like a push?" Arghhhh. Humiliation! I declined and said "It'll be right in a few minutes. Must have flooded it or something." He hopped on his bike which OF COURSE started first kick and rode away. Of course as soon as he was out of site my bike roared into life. Yeah ... feckin' funny.
I've often wondered if my bike was a male or a female. Now I know.
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