CL350 update: If I hadn’t yet told you, I finally got the CL to a point where it is starting to look like the bike that I want it to be. I caved and got a mechanic to do the handlebars correctly, so now there are no electrical problems. I even went so far as getting the bike insured and registered. I thought I was close to the end of the bullshit and that I’d finally be able to start the fun stuff, riding it. I was wrong.
As far as I knew, the last thing I had to do was get the bike inspected. I was going to try and do this on Wednesday (the 7th), after I got home from getting it registered. However, I was still having issues with the choke, and, being the mechanical pussy that I am, was too scared to play with the idle screw so that the bike could run without stalling. So, after failing to go anywhere, I texted my cousin Joe to see if he might be able to help me get it inspected. He said he’d be by later that day, but, when later that day came, he texted me saying he’d try and be by on Saturday.
Cut to Saturday and I’m sitting around not knowing what to do or if Joe was still planning on coming. I was and had been freaking out because, according to the RMV and according to my registration, I was told that the bike had to be inspected within 7 days of it being registered. So, not only did I feel like I was on a deadline, but also I was afraid that even if I magically got the bike to the inspection place on time, I wasn’t sure if it would pass inspection because the blinkers worked sporadically and the tail light didn’t light when I hit the rear brake.
At around 2pm, in the middle of my freak-out, I called my cousin Jason, Joe’s brother. I explained the situation to him but, as expected, he was busy and thus was not able to swing by and help me. No sooner did I hang up with Jay did I hear the rumble of Joe’s monstrous Harley rolling up my driveway.
After greeting him, we went into the garage where he instantly began busting my balls on how I had fucked with the bike and why I had murdered such a beautiful classic. However, soon after, we (more like he) began to dig in to the idle problem. We fixed it to a point, but in the process discovered that I might have an issue with my carburetor. Additionally we discovered that my fuel filters leak and that there’s rust in my gas tank. On the plus side we did fix the brake light issue… sort of. Now, half the time it lights up when you hit the rear brake, half the time it doesn’t. Same with the blinkers. However, after making little progress we decided the best thing to do was to forget about it over a couple beers.
I grabbed my helmet and hopped on the back of his bike where we ended up at The Border Cafe with a pair of Dos Equis Ambers. He told me how I’m basically at a crossroads with the bike. That I could get these problems fixed but that I’d have to be willing to sink even a bit more money into the bike. Or, I could have what I’ve had for the past 4 months, a bike that sits and rots in my garage. I thought as a third option, I could try and pon the bike off on someone else and just be rid of it. Joe feels it’s worth saving. I sort of do, but at the same time I don’t really feel like sinking more money into it. I don’t know.
All I do know is this, the bike is definitely not going to be inspected within the legal 7 days. As long as this doesn’t result in any negative action from the RMV, then I don’t really care. As we rode home I was feeling much better about the whole thing. I don’t know if it was the fact that my cousin came through for me, the fact that I was able to use my helmet in the wind for the first time (and not just around my house), the fact that I was a little buzzed from the beers, or a combination of all three; either way, no worries.
I’m not going to worry about it anymore. It sort of made me realize or helped me realize how useless stressing out about things like this (things you can’t control) is. I kind of knew that all along, but the day really helped bring me to a place -to a mental state- where I could actually accept that. I’m still going to stress and worry about things that I can’t control; I’m a Jew and I’m too much like my mother, but, at the very least, I think I’m going to worry a bit less about the bike. It’ll happen when it happens or it won’t. There’s no use in rushing it. It’s all good.