A few months ago, I bought a 1983, Honda VT500 motorcycle. It wasn't in bad shape for it's age, but it still needed work. The bike appeared to have been laid down, as three of the turn signal lights were broken. There were a few scratches here and there, along with a dent in the tank, and a missing side cover, to attest to a hard life at times. It hadn't been licensed since 1993 but whoever stored it, had removed the battery, and drained the gas from the tank.
I bought a battery and cleaned out the flash rust from the tank. When I put gas in it and hooked up the fuel line, gas just poured out of the carburetor overflow line. That meant, I had to pull the carburetors and rebuild them. While I was at it, I drained the oil and changed the filter. The plugs looked good so I re-gapped them and put them back in.
Now that the carburetors weren't flooding, it only took a little time and patience to get the engine to fire off. At first it ran rough but soon settled into a nice smooth rumble. It revved sharply and backed down crisply. I shut it off and let it cool down while I had lunch.
Over lunch, I considered what else needed to be done to make the bike safe to ride. The rear tire was slick and the front showed signs of dry rot. They would have to be replaced. The bike was shaft drive, so changing the rear one was a little beyond my experience. Anyway, the rear brake was adjusted as far as it would go, so the shoes needed replacing. The front forks showed some signs of leaking. It would probably be best to rebuild them right off the bat.
The end of the front brake handle was broke off from the wreck and needed replacing. Then there were the broken turn signs; I didn't like the funky stock ones, so I needed to find a replacement type. I wanted the dent out of the tank and a new side cover. The paint would have to be redone.
The whole bike needed going over, checked, and serviced. I would need someone with more experience, for this also. This would take care of the repairs and maintenance.
There was also a list of things I wanted to add to the bike and change. A set of highway pegs and a set of more comfortable handlebars would make riding more comfortable. Plus a better seat and a sissy bar, with a place to mount the tail light higher. A couple of extra running lights on the front forks would also make it easier to see from the front. A better set of mirrors would make it safer also.
There was probably more but I ran out of lunch before I ran out of ideas. First off I need to find a good mechanic. There are no dealerships locally so I checked the yellow pages. There were a half dozen motorcycle mechanics listed but only one locally. The rest were fifty or sixty miles away.
I called C. C. Davis Motorcycle repair and talked to the lady that answered the phone. She listened patiently as I went over my list of repairs and told me to bring the bike on over, that they could take care of it. Since I no longer had a truck, I decided to ride it over there and asked if there was someone who could run me back to the house. She told me she would see what she could do.
*****
After I checked the oil and water, the bike fired right up. It was about ten miles to where the shop was and I got in no hurry. The motor had great power but the clutch was a little jerky. The brakes were terrible. The front forks were mushy and the rear shocks seemed way to stiff. Slowly, was definitely the order of the day.
*****
As I got off the bike at the shop, a short slim girl came out of the office and stood there looking me and the bike over. "You must be Greg." She said as she walked over and shook my hand.
When my hand touched hers, she gave a little jerk and then stared hard at me for a second before she said, "I'm C.C., and I own this place. I hope you don't have a problem dealing with a woman mechanic?"
Still holding her hand I asked, "Are you a good mechanic?"
She cocked her head to one side and smiled as she slowly took her hand back. "Yes I am. I learned from one of the best, my late husband. He wasn't much of a husband but he was a great mechanic. I don't think there was anything about a bike he didn't know. If he had known half as much about women.... Well, anyway."
She walked slowly around the bike and looked it over closely. After a couple of minutes, she said, "Not bad, a little abused, but very fixable. Come on into the office and lets talk about it. You tell me what you know about its problems, then I'll check it out, and we'll see what it's going to cost you."
*****
In the office, she made a list as I talked, asking me questions to get more details. I will say, she asked intelligent questions. I wasn't sure of the answers to some of them and told her so. She just chuckled and made some more notes.
Back outside, she fired up the bike and then she rode it around the parking lot and up the road a short ways and back. When she got back, she rode straight into the shop. When she tried to put it up on the center stand, she found out that it was bent and it took both of us to get it up on the stand. I stood and watched as she looked the bike over closely and made more notes.
Finally she stood up and stretched her back. Earlier, I had figured her age at mid thirties, now as I looked at her, I figured early forties. Her worn levies fit tightly and showed off slim hips and a nice high round rear end. The loose tee shirt hid most of her upper body, but I occasionally got hints of what was underneath.
Her oval face was framed with short dark brown curls, tight against her scalp. Her brown eyes were large and expressive, with the beginning of laugh lines at the corners. Her nose was not large but it was long and narrow, almost roman. I think, her high cheekbones and small mouth made it look bigger than it was. All in all, she was a very good-looking lady.
