I commute on an old BMW motorcycle, vintage 1985. This is the bike that my sister, my brother and I gave to my dad to celebrate his retirement. When he died, my brother and sister felt pretty strongly that it should go to me, and I’ve tried to give it the sort of love it needs. Ride it as much as my dad would want to.
Last night, I pulled into the driveway after a late night at work. It was really dark out. It being thursday, the recycling was set outside, in front of the garage door. I parked the bike mid-way between Liz’s car and the bins, so we could walk between each.
As I went to step it onto its center stand, without warning, the bike toppled over away from me (thank GOD it went that way, the feckin’ thing’s heavy as hell). I just stood there for a second, staring at it. LIke, “what the fuck just happened?”
Apparently, the bike’s center-stand has had a good long life, and decided to kick the bucket. It snapped right in the middle of the tube, on the left side. Which makes it all the more strange that it didn’t fall onto me, since it should have come down toward me, not away. Maybe dad was lookin’ out for me.
The plastic hardcase on the right side took the most of the fall, and I don’t think the paint even got scratched on the body. The bike’s already got tons of scratches and chipped paint on it (they were present when we bought it), so it’s kinda hard to tell.
It’s sad to see something of your late father’s break. Makes me want to really restore it.
I think I’ll have to settle for some routine maintenance and a new center stand, though.