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I've had my GS1100E for about 3 years. It was in great shape when I bought it, but after the first few minor repairs I became more comfortable working on it.
Last summer I topped it off with new paint, cables, etc. I stripped the old clearcoat off of the billett and gave it a shine. When all was said and done, I lit it off and drove it to a local bike shop for a state inspection.
I went in and stated my purpose and they told me to take it to the "inspection box" which was a red square taped off just inside the bay door of their shop.
As I drove around, I passed through a graveyard of parts bikes of the same vintage. My VH pipe sounded great as I pulled into the shop, and I had to give it a little rev before I shut it down, just for show.
I saw a mechanic's head pop up from behind a dismantled Ninja. He dropped his tools down and walked over to me. After a once over, he called all of the other mechs out. I stood back and watched three mechanics kneel down and eye-fornicate my ride until the inspection was over. I thanked them for their compliments and was very proud because it was my work.
I could have bought anything in their showroom or a bike that someone else restored, but this meant something because I did it. I've never owned a vehicle that really stood out until now. I live in a town of 100,000+ and have yet to see an old musclebike like mine.
I guess that's why we're all here.
Last summer I topped it off with new paint, cables, etc. I stripped the old clearcoat off of the billett and gave it a shine. When all was said and done, I lit it off and drove it to a local bike shop for a state inspection.
I went in and stated my purpose and they told me to take it to the "inspection box" which was a red square taped off just inside the bay door of their shop.
As I drove around, I passed through a graveyard of parts bikes of the same vintage. My VH pipe sounded great as I pulled into the shop, and I had to give it a little rev before I shut it down, just for show.
I saw a mechanic's head pop up from behind a dismantled Ninja. He dropped his tools down and walked over to me. After a once over, he called all of the other mechs out. I stood back and watched three mechanics kneel down and eye-fornicate my ride until the inspection was over. I thanked them for their compliments and was very proud because it was my work.
I could have bought anything in their showroom or a bike that someone else restored, but this meant something because I did it. I've never owned a vehicle that really stood out until now. I live in a town of 100,000+ and have yet to see an old musclebike like mine.
I guess that's why we're all here.
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