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Inevitably the conversation about my new-old GS 1000 E turned to; what do I plan to do with my new acquisition? Some parties suggested that I treat it as an investment and keep it as stock original as possible. A couple of the guys thought I should ride her as a Sunday only bike and keep the miles down. At least one person said that I should ride the hell out of here and have fun?
I thought of her prior owner the airline mechanic. He kept her dry and warm for over 27 years. My new bike has seen less than a thousand miles a year. From careful and thoughtful investigation, I'd say it?s safe to say that she has never seen rain. Certain hardware, like the exhaust brackets, show almost no corrosion. That?s a feat for a bike three years old!
Still and all, when I sit on the broad soft saddle, 32? inseam and my feet are still just toes to the ground, fair and square reach to the bars and I feel that I should pick my feet up, click first, pony her around and ride away. This is not a bike for standing still. This is also not a bike for showing, although I get more ?Cool bike, man!?(s) than I ever did before. This is a bike for twisting. This is a bike that pulls up to stopped traffic with attitude. This is a bike that warms up slowly and has moods. This is a bike that purrs after a particularly brisk stretch. This is a bike that says ride me pleeease.
I took her to a buddy of mine, a mechanic and drag racer dude. This is a guy who wont use a cloth to wipe a surface because dust scratches. This is a guy who has had some of the finest GS?s I?ve ever seen? and at least one of them pulls in the 9 seconds!... anyway, he?s conservative and I value his opinion. He said ride!
So I have been riding. Some familiar roads, some not so familiar. New England is pretty crowded and has been since the country began. There are lots of roads and they take interesting paths. It seems to me that the original road builders couldn?t move much in the way of the granite that pops up everywhere. So, instead they just curled twisted and meandered on endlessly between villages and hamlets. In some places the roads are down right screwy. I don?t think that there?s anywhere in the States that you find so many rotaries and 5 and 6 point intersections. It's a paradox of new and old. If you just pick out the truly old buildings and ignore the rest you can see into the past. The view from my GS is like a history lesson. How can I ignore something so educational?
My new bike says ?ride me?. She says, ?come on lets go?. It?s been a while since I watched the clock to closing time, and I visit her during the day. It?s pretty dysfunctional, and I ride. I watch the trip meter 200- 400- 800 miles and I think ?I?m there?. I?m at the point where she usually rests. I'm at that point wher the airline mechanic usually puts her away for the year. So I do a hardware check and I notice that everything is tight, over tight really. I think of the aircraft mechanic and how things can?t loosen up when you?re in the sky ?cause falling sucks. And I thank him for his attention to detail.
Then I change her oil? and I ride.
I guess I made up my mind.
I thought of her prior owner the airline mechanic. He kept her dry and warm for over 27 years. My new bike has seen less than a thousand miles a year. From careful and thoughtful investigation, I'd say it?s safe to say that she has never seen rain. Certain hardware, like the exhaust brackets, show almost no corrosion. That?s a feat for a bike three years old!
Still and all, when I sit on the broad soft saddle, 32? inseam and my feet are still just toes to the ground, fair and square reach to the bars and I feel that I should pick my feet up, click first, pony her around and ride away. This is not a bike for standing still. This is also not a bike for showing, although I get more ?Cool bike, man!?(s) than I ever did before. This is a bike for twisting. This is a bike that pulls up to stopped traffic with attitude. This is a bike that warms up slowly and has moods. This is a bike that purrs after a particularly brisk stretch. This is a bike that says ride me pleeease.
I took her to a buddy of mine, a mechanic and drag racer dude. This is a guy who wont use a cloth to wipe a surface because dust scratches. This is a guy who has had some of the finest GS?s I?ve ever seen? and at least one of them pulls in the 9 seconds!... anyway, he?s conservative and I value his opinion. He said ride!
So I have been riding. Some familiar roads, some not so familiar. New England is pretty crowded and has been since the country began. There are lots of roads and they take interesting paths. It seems to me that the original road builders couldn?t move much in the way of the granite that pops up everywhere. So, instead they just curled twisted and meandered on endlessly between villages and hamlets. In some places the roads are down right screwy. I don?t think that there?s anywhere in the States that you find so many rotaries and 5 and 6 point intersections. It's a paradox of new and old. If you just pick out the truly old buildings and ignore the rest you can see into the past. The view from my GS is like a history lesson. How can I ignore something so educational?
My new bike says ?ride me?. She says, ?come on lets go?. It?s been a while since I watched the clock to closing time, and I visit her during the day. It?s pretty dysfunctional, and I ride. I watch the trip meter 200- 400- 800 miles and I think ?I?m there?. I?m at the point where she usually rests. I'm at that point wher the airline mechanic usually puts her away for the year. So I do a hardware check and I notice that everything is tight, over tight really. I think of the aircraft mechanic and how things can?t loosen up when you?re in the sky ?cause falling sucks. And I thank him for his attention to detail.
Then I change her oil? and I ride.
I guess I made up my mind.
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