A Wing and a Prayer

I never thought I would own a Goldwing. I was just looking for a bike bigger than my CX 500 that had some storage capacity for the long trip to my BRC classes (1:20). After an acquaintance picked up an old one for $500, I started thinking. They have a great reputation, so why not look around for an affordable one and see what happens?

Well, shortly after that, I found one an hour or so away. "$1000, needs TLC." So I called the guy and the needed work sounded straight forward and affordable: a broken mirror, has been sitting a while, etc. "Does it run?" "Oh yeah, it runs."

So we made an appointment.

My friend Chris was going to provide the truck. The trailer, well........... I had one guy but the day we were supposed to go down to look at/pick up the bike, he couldn't supply it. I was pretty sure I was going to come home with it, so I started asking around, making phone calls. Finally, a friend at work said his dad had one he would lend us. He was an hour or so away and I had neither met him nor been to his shop. A bit awkward! Anyway, I called and changed the time frame a bit for that night and it looked like everything was going to work out.

When Chris got to my place to pick me up I went right out with some tools, my riding gear to test ride the bike and, of course, the cash. Chris was fixing the windshield wiper when I got out to the driveway. The windshield wiper. (Judging by its size, it was evidently from a 1978 Datsun B210 wagon - rear window.) This was probably because it had started raining.

Later, it was raining harder. And then, all the way down there, it was raining. The windshield wiper was on his side so I really couldn't see the road although I was pretty sure we were all over the lane from the strong gusts of wind that had picked up. It was okay, though, because by that point it was snowing and raining. After all, it was November.

First stop was to pick up the trailer. Turned out the ball Chris had was 1 7/8" and the receiver on the trailer was 2". We tried to get the ball off and change it out but it was frozen on there. My friend's father said it would be fine. "I've seen it done before. Should be all right." Hmm. Should be. That phrase kept echoing through my mind the rest of the night.

After a few phone calls and U-turns we finally found the guy's house. The first encouraging sign of the night was the sound of a four cylinder motorcycle running in the garage. It was the Goldwing. Looked pretty good in the garage lighting. On closer inspection, it had a few issues besides a missing mirror. The brakes were grabby, the engine was hesitating a bit on throttle-up, the paint showed evidence of seeing the weather for a long while, the windshield was cloudy and would need to be replaced, fork seals were blown and, worst of all, it was leaking oil. Also, it had every accessory you could possibly put on a motorcycle. It looked like a big, heavy old bike. In my mind I was stripping all the accessories off, rebuilding the forks, going through the entire brake system, ordering a windshield and mirror, and tracking down and eliminating the oil leaks. The addition was getting pretty high. Still, I saw potential. It was running and it was a Honda. It had to have a good heart. Unfortunately, with an inch and a half of wet snow on the ground and no possibility of a test ride, I had to wonder about unknowns. The price would have to be right for me to buy it.....

I looked and thought, looked and thought. Then came time to negotiate.

I noticed a sport bike on the other side of the garage. I then found out that the Goldwing had belonged to his grandfather. Looking around the place to make a guess on his financial situation, considering the time of year, the fact that I was the first one there, his preference being sport bikes, I let offers rattle around my brain. I had a lot of legitimate reasons for bargaining down the price which, one by one, I named to him. "With all the work it needs and not being able to test the bike...... I can't give you a thousand for it." He digested that for a while, then asked me to make him an offer. I didn't want to be the one to name a figure first, but after ten minutes of waiting (and ten more minutes of wet snow) it was obvious that someone had to make a move. I looked over the bike again, a pained expression on my face, then came out with, "I can give you $600 for it." This would set the tone for the rest of the negotiation. He could have freaked out. Or, maybe the offer was too high and he would immediately say okay. He winced a bit, said, "Oh, man....." A long pause while he swallowed that. "Can you go $700?" YES!!!! I had him now. I waited an equal amount of time, staring at the Wing, no expression on my face whatsoever. "Well, I guess this is where we meet in the middle....... I'll give you $650 but that's all I can do."

He seemed to suddenly feel that we were premature in discussing price. Apparently, he had not seen the truck and trailer in the road below the driveway. "Are you talking about tonight?" "Yeah, I'm ready to go, man. I've got cash." This surprise was an advantage to me. I pulled out the Benjamins, which he noticed. I started to fan them out a bit to get him salivating, to let him know that $650 cash could be his with just a word. "Okay."

I was ecstatic but I spared him the jumping up and down. We still had to sign the deal.

The next magical trick was to get the bike on the trailer without dumping it and get it home in one piece. Conditions were not ideal. It had turned to rain again. The wind was still blowing pretty good.

Long story short, we secured it with a pile of ratchet straps, then headed out on a wing and a prayer. I just needed to get that bad boy home and I was good to go. I looked back at the bike the whole way home, watching for any little movement or loosening of the straps. And there was the ball that did not fit the receiver exactly. Should be all right, he had said. I was afraid of thinking about the project, the end result, riding it. Until I got that baby to Headquarters I was nowhere.

A few hours later, we backed up the trailer into my driveway and got the bike into the garage. It was late, completely dark out and, you guessed it, still raining! I thanked Chris profusely. Then we made plans to return the trailer.

After Chris left, I just stood in the garage looking at it. Admiring, imagining, smiling! A little kid with his new toy. It was sinking in. I had it! It was home........my bike!

Little by little, the stress of the ride home dissolved and the excitement of a great buy, a new project, a Goldwing took over. We had done it. We had weathered the storm, navigated through a porthole for a windshield, worked with borrowed gear, negotiated like aces, and successfully arrived home with the goods!

And all on a wing and a prayer........

Quite a Weekend

A typical weekend in this part of the world. Rainy, chilly, then sunny and beautiful.

I was hesitant to take the bike on day 2 of a BRC. I had not ridden day 1 because of weather so I was looking forward to it the next day.

A bit of fog, overcast skies, chilly, rain in the afternoon forecast, but I rode anyway. Too many times I had driven the car only to have the skies clear toward the end of the day and miss out on a great hour long ride home.

As I was leaving for home at the end of day 2, it started raining. It looked bad, but the way I read the sky, I thought I would be better off to ride out of it. I was right. Ten minutes of rain, then I rode into sunny skies. The sun was starting to set and as I got closer to home, everything went orange. I let that poem we learned in school, She Sweeps With Many-Colored Brooms by Emily Dickinson, float through my mind.

The way I look at it, there's good rain and bad rain. If it becomes a safety issue, I stop riding. If not, I don't mind it. I've sure done enough of it over the years.

I enjoyed the ride. All of it. When the weather broke there was a sense that you sometimes have to take the good with the bad, earn your way, ride through the storm to come out the other side. I guess I was getting philosophical, my ride becoming a metaphor for life.

I often reflect on the things I'm going through in life when I ride. It helps me sort things out. Maybe that's one more reason I enjoy it so much.




I only let rain almost produce a crash once. I was making a left turn from a stop, accelerating in a lean when I crossed over a manhole cover. The rear whipped around for an instant and I had to correct my balance quickly. Another lesson to relate to life!

All I Got to Say

Winter............hmmph!