I need a Witch. My Seca 900's Haunted! By: Rick Massey

My 900 is very displeased with me. Years together, after her complete restoration, tuning and pimping; the Max showed-up and stole the show.

Who knew I'd fall for the Max and let the 900 have the season off. So, the 900 got covered-up and the Max took the spot in the starting lineup. Evil spirits were awakened. The 900 decided to over to The Dark Side. I had no clue.

Yesterday, I got the 9-1-1 call from my daughter to hurry over and help her deal with a plumbing emergency. I stripped the cover off the 900 and moved it to the Flight Deck.

She wouldn't start without a shot of Starting Fluid. Then, took her own sweet time warming-up and smoothing-out before we could start out. Once we made the turn out of neighborhood on to the road leading into Town; she started handling funny. I stopped-off at 7-11, grabbed a coffee and some gum; came out to the bike and she's sitting there on an obviously soft front tire. (Which I thought I thumb-checked before leaving ... interesting?)

We run over to the nearest garage where I hoped to find an air machine or an air line to pump-up the front tire. It was like the place knew I was coming. Air line and gauge; hanging on the hook outside. Everything was back to normal in short order; we were off to my daughters. Now she's happy. Wants to go. We're still in town and I don't want a ticket; so we just take it easy heading out toward the highway.

At the light, just before the highway ramp; I'm having a little trouble getting down to first. There's a very unfamiliar feeling in the clutch lever that I write-off for getting spoiled by the nice easy pull on the Max's clutch lever. With a bit of struggle we get into first and I can feel the bike tugging; this I know to be unusual, because I'm always tweaking the cable to make the bike not do that.

And away we go. She shows me the power and quiet you don't get with the 750. No pinging, dinging or clunks; just the effortless ride and lightning-quick response the 900 engine's made to provide. We glide along with the movers and shakers heading toward Boston; letting them have a bit of the lead so I'll see their brake lights if a cop is up-ahead handing out autographs to those too heavily footed or wristed.

No ticket. Play in the twisties getting off the highway. She's my fun girl; again! Clear sailing over to Amanda's to get the leak fixed.

The leak is the Delta faucet. We'll have to stick a kit in it. Out the door I go; heading over to the hardware store. Helmet, gloves, ignition on, pull the clutch lever to start ... and, the clutch lever grabs air and pulls clean over to the handlebar without resistance. The clutch cable is broken-off clean right at the lever cable end. I'm going nowhere.

With no replacement cable at Amanda's house; I have to get me and the bike back home with NO clutch. I'm feeling the Evil Spirits doing their bogey-man trip on me. I had to get the bike push-started and ride most of the way home in second.

She's parked down in the garage. I think I'm the only one who can hear her screaming: "How do you like your little 750 NOW; Ricky. Huh? I do you feel NOW?"

If that ain't haunted ... what is?

 

Oops. Sometimes it's not good to have two older bikes. They can get jealous. :shock:

 

Nothing like a woman scorned Rick. Take her out for some ice cream, it'll set things right again.

 

i say three is a charm rick! gotta find another bike and have a manage et trois!

 

Now theres an idea..And a good one at that...