Monday, November 20, 2023


Picture it: Friday, the day before my 40th wedding anniversary. My husband oversleeps, meaning he doesn't get his deer hunting in quite as early as he'd planned.

I also overslept. Everything felt "off."

He received a call that his motorcycle, which he'd sent to the shop to have repaired back in the spring, was finally running. However, it needed an entire engine rebuild. He told the man he'd pick up the bike.

My husband on his bike in better days.

I offered to drive him to the shop so he could ride the bike home, but the inspection sticker was out of date. I suggested he take it and have a sticker put on it, but he said no, he'd take the trailer and bring it home.

He arrived back here about a two hours later. I went outside and asked if he needed help.

"Yes," he said.

He had the bike on the trailer and there were tie-downs on it. He took several off but then had trouble with one. It was something called a "come along" that he'd bought at a tractor supply store. It hung shut and he couldn't get it undone. He went after it with a screwdriver.

I stood awaiting instructions, and I started looking at the remaining tie-down/come along thing where I was standing. I wondered why he was having such a problem with them, and I began inspecting it.

He moved to the toolbox on his truck. I hit some button on the come along, and zip! The thing came undone.

I felt jubilation for about 1/2 second that I had helped until I saw the motorcycle fall.

Motorcycles aren't supposed to hit the ground. Or the side of the trailer.

My husband had this stricken look on his face as he looked at his baby. I tried to help him set it upright, but the two of us could not lift it. He had to get his cousin to help him. They set the bike upright. The handlebars had hit the side of the trailer in such a way that the throttle cable was cut.

Otherwise, it appeared undamaged. But that was enough to make me feel mighty bad. Later, he told me the bike needed so much repair in the engine that it wasn't going to be good for anything but parts anyway. So, he wasn't as upset as he might have been.

And it was an accident. And he had not told me not to fiddle with the come along. He said he was having so much trouble with them that he never thought it would come undone like that. I had thought the motorcycle was securely seated on its kickstand. I didn't see that there was another tie-down on the other side (that's what pulled it over).

After he and his cousin got it off the trailer, he stowed the motorcycle in the garage where it used to sit, but it reeked of gasoline and oil, so he put it back outside. The next morning, after he'd gone hunting, he put the bike back on the trailer (with his cousin's help, not mine) and hauled it down to the shed. Which, frankly, is where he should have taken it in the first place.

My husband is almost 65 years old. I have never told him not to ride his motorcycle, but he hasn't been on it much. After he injured his hand in 2014, one of his first concerns was would he be able to ride? He could, but he didn't. And then when he has his ankle fused together, that was another question. Would he be able to ride? He could, but he didn't.

And that's why the motorcycle has issues. It sat. It sat in the garage taking up space, and last spring when he got it out to start it, the gaskets on the carburetor blew and filled the motor with gas and oil. Or something like that. At any rate, the motorcycle is 20 years old. It still looks good. But his ticket to ride is null and void.

1 comment:

  1. At least it still *looks* good! I get too attached to things myself, so I get your husband. And I make a lot of flubs, as well, so I feel for you, too.


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