A collection of stories from my first few years of adventures on two wheels.
I decided (with the help of mom and dad) to buy a motorcycle because at face value it was cheaper than buying a car, and at the time I was in Florida, so it made sense to use it to commute to college since it was bike season year-round. Here are some interesting tales from my adventure of the world of motorcycles.
My first bike: a Suzuki Katana
I was smart enough to not buy a GSXR or a general “crotch rocket” style sport bike. I ended up finding two Katana’s for sale and opted for one with the 750cc engine since I imagined I’d grow into it. This turned out to not be a bad idea since it was geared torquey and not like a racing bike, and I did end up doing a bit of highway with it as I explored Florida.
My first motorcycle, a Suzuki Katana. This big backpack held my stuff when I went to Canada.
The Katana had about 11,000 miles. It was all stock. My old baseball pitching coach helped with his truck to pick it up. It immediately needed work on the chain and sprockets, which I was lucky that I met a friend who recognized the noise of the chain was not good, and offered to help me fix it in his shop. This would become my best friend who also invited me to Alaska. I met him down near Ormond beach, very late at night, because I was out there getting used to the bike, and looking at the stars.
That watermelon hat attached to the back of my pack flew off at some point. Someone in the world has it right now I’m sure. I was a little sad upon seeing it gone.
Rode Florida -> Montreal and back, dropped it twice, broke down once
Lowsided on the highway ramp
I was on my way from Florida to Montreal, hauling up the I-95, when I stopped for gas in the pitch black somewhere near Virginia. I filled up, and upon trying to get back on the highway, was met with a sharper-than-expected curve on the on ramp, and low sided the bike into the grass off the ramp at about 30-40mph. My backpack was so heavy (see pic above) that I fell off the seat like a lawn dart, and the pack took most of the blow.
Luckily I flagged someone down to help me pick it up (thanks, random Virginia woman, for assisting me in the pitch black darkness of this random night), and the damage was just cosmetic. A few minutes later I stopped at a rest stop to make sure all the fairings were holding in place and what not, and I dropped it in the parking lot - on the opposite side. Someone helped me get it back up, and he offered me this motorcycle jacket he happened to have in the bed of his truck, since it was getting cold. It was way too big, but I appreciated the offer.
I had to search around for a smaller hotel that would let me reserve a room because apparently I was too young for the major chain hotels. Some policy, I dunno. It all worked out in the end and I kept going the next day.
Stranded with the fuel filter split in half
In Montreal I didn’t know where to park so I backed the bike into a bush on the side of the road and figured it’d be good. It got pretty cold while I was there at night, but nothing concerning.
Upon leaving Montreal I noticed an intermittent sputter and figured I’d stop and take a look after I got over the border. I quickly popped the tank up to see if there was something up with the fuel lines, I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for, but the plastic fuel filter split in two upon doing so. I still am unsure if it was already cracked, or if I caused it to crack when I got my hands in there, but either way, I was stuck here in no mans land with a full tank of gas, but no way to get it from the gas tank to the engine:
Tip of Vermont just enjoying the view, wondering what I should do.
Quite honestly I just relaxed there for a half hour or so and enjoyed the view and mulled over my options.
In a stroke of luck, somebody came by on their motorcycle within an hour, and he was on his way to the hardware store. He bought me a new filter, and I was on my way. What a guy! I got his card and Mom sent him chocolates as a thank-you.
A link on the chain broke and I don’t know how or when
I rode on a half-broken chain for some time, and I’m not sure how long. This is incredibly dangerous. It’s not even the master link! A defect chain! I do not know which brand this was, but I dodged a bullet that I noticed it randomly. For those who don’t know, when chains snap, they shoot into the engine area, and the bike is toast. It’s even a risk to serious hurt your leg over something like that.
A half snapped chain link… a miracle that this held up.
Random Florida people insanity
I was riding down the A1A by the beach one time and a phone flew out of the car in front of me. It caught me off guard and quickly dissappeared into the abyss of road behind me. A few minutes later I watched the car pull into a gas station, so I rode in and at least figured I’d let them know I saw where the phone went??
As I was approaching the car, the guy in the front seat got out and started apologizing to me, which was a surprise to me, because I wasn’t mad at him? He said he was so sorry for cutting me off. Honestly I don’t think he did? I mentioned to him that I saw the phone fly out the window, and he hesitated for a second and said “oh yeah that was my wife’s, did you grab it?”. I said no.
After a few other random words him and his wife went intot the store to get something. I was filling up my gas tank and happened to walk past his car. One of the kids (his kids?) in the car hollered over at me so I looked up and shrugged like “uh what?”. Then these clearly underaged kids asked me if I could buy them beer.
I said no, and was happy to leave this Florida family in the dust. What a surreal experience.
Other Ridiculous Stuff
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Every once in a while the Katana would just die. I think it was some vacuum issue where it was running too hot and couldn’t suck gas into the engine or something. This happened a few times, including on the highway.
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I rode home (maybe 10min) on an actively-deflating tire one time. I heard the hiss hiss hiss noise as the air escaped through this tiny pinhole puncture. Don’t do this, it’s dangerous.
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I built air inlets out of duct tape for a YZF600. There was this moment where I got so fed up with the fairings that I ripped them all off, but when I went to ride the bike, it wouldn’t run properly. The fairings provided just the right amount of ram air pressure into the inlets that the engine was choking. I created roughly 4 inch wide vents, out of duct tape, and slapped them on the sides of the silver frame connected to the air box. It worked, and sounded gnarly. It looked stupid, but even when I sold it, the buyer said it sounded incredible.
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The exhaust got loose somehow and dangled on the highway and I had to just ditch it. I had nowhere to hold or put this piping hot piece of metal, so I rode home without an exhaust from Orlando. It was hell. My ears probably are still slightly damaged from that. For what it’s worth, I went back later that day with a backpack to grab the pipe (I tried to hide it behind a waste bin) - with earplugs in this time - and somebody had taken it, so I had to buy a new one.
Moto Culture
Motorcycle enthusiasts of all ages and walks of life are always willing to help each other out and include everyone. Just being on two wheels gets you into the club. As you can see from my stories, I was rarely alone in solving my problems. From picking up the bike when buying it, to fixing the chain, to breaking down in northern Vermont, bikers are great helpers and the brotherhood camaraderie runs deep.
All in all my motorcycle experiences were great. Over probably 40,000 miles of riding I’ve had a few wacky things happen, and I thank my lucky stars that I had no major incidents. Over time I became more aware of the danger and dropped the hobby all together, but some day I imagine I will ride again.
Ride safe!
Dan