So, over the weekend I fixed something. For me, this is pretty big. I've described myself as "mechanically declined" in the past, a humorous, self-deprecating term that exaggerates my discomfort with all things mechanical. I've long had a love/hate relationship with DIY projects, being capable of performing simple acts of home and/or vehicular improvement but preferring to leave the more arduous tasks to the professionals.
A lot of it boils down simply to time - I don't change my own oil because I would rather bring my truck to the dealership and have them take care of it for $35 than crawl around underneath the truck for an hour, plus the hour spent going to the store to buy the oil and returning the used oil when the oil change is complete. For the $20 I'll save three or four times a year, it's just not worth taking an extra 3 hours out of my busy weekend.
Anyways, I had a first this past weekend. I hadn't ridden my Harley in several weeks (I think it might have been over a month, actually) and went out to the garage to start it up. Given that it hadn't been started in a while, plus the weather's getting cold, plus the battery is over six years old, I was a little apprehensive when hitting the starter. Sure enough, it coughed, turned over once, then started clicking - not enough juice to start the engine.
I got off the bike, angry at myself for letting it go so long between running it that the battery died. My mind started thinking of options: Call up a buddy with a trailer and trailer it up to the dealership (I store at the dealership basically to have room in the garage for the truck); call the dealership and see if they can come get it; or see if I can charge the battery. Well, one thing I do have is a trickle-charger; it was one of the smart motorcycle-related purchases I've made over the years.
Pop the seat off the bike, hook the charger up to the battery, and wait a couple hours - I figured that the worst thing that could happen would be that the charger didn't work and fried the (already dead) battery. Well, before I knew it, the charger was reading full and I decided to give it a try. Took the charger off, put the seat on, pulled out the choke, and hit the starter. Sure enough, it roared to life on the second push of the button.
It doesn't sound like much - heck, I know it really isn't much at all in the grand scheme of things - but it was simply amazing to take something that had formerly not been working and make it work again. I got a tiny little glimpse into the world of folks like
og or
doubletrouble, who can take individual engine molecules, clean 'em up good as new, and assemble a completely functional engine while blindfolded and with one arm tied behind their backs.
I. Fixed. Something.I mean, I've replaced batteries in cars before; I used to install car stereos back in the day. Despite my joking manner, I am pretty competent with a wrench or hammer (if needed); my limiting factor, really, is my complete and utter lack of patience when things don't go exactly right - and they very rarely go exactly right. I know my limitations, and one of them happens to be that I need to be ready, willing, and able to walk away (and quickly) if things don't go as planned. But this time, everything did go as planned.
The Harley's running fine; I took it out for about an hour and let it run for a while. TheBoy came with me on the ride - he was disappointed when the Harley wouldn't start, and when he heard it fire up he came running into the garage. "Daddy, does this mean we can go for our ride?" he asked, eyes brimming with excitement. I had the enviable task of telling him yes, that Daddy fixed the Harley and it was all set.
That's a good feeling, indeed...That is all.