[Jeff Higgins]

Ah, the vagaries of old motorcycles - even the ones we have known and loved for most of our lives.

I have not been able to ride much this year due to some injuries sustained when some clown managed to total my old Beetle. My clutch hand got the worst of it, so it's been extremely difficult to ride. I've had one surgery already, and another one appears imminent. Long story short, my surgeon has me on some oral steroids to reduce inflammation while I await surgery. My hand felt so good today, I just had to get out on a bike.

Well, it turns out the only one I have not ridden yet this year is the old Ironhead Sportster. So, I wheeled it out of the garage, and gave it a pretty thorough pre-flight. In doing so, I noticed the oil was low. Really low. So I did the obvious and topped it off.

*Sigh*. That was my big mistake. Much like our air cooled 911's, if left to sit for an extended period, the oil can pretty much drain out of the tank and fill the crankcase instead. Duh - I knew this. I've had the darn thing since 1979, after all. I don't know what I was thinking (I clearly wasn't). I topped it off...

I rode for over 100 miles without issue. Be-bopping along at a leisurely pace on some of my favorite backroads, I stopped for gas, stopped for coffee, stopped again for gas. Nary a hint of trouble.

Time kind of got away from me, as we always hope it will when engaged like this, so I found myself having to kind of beat feet to get home. So I hopped on the freeway and wicked it up a bit. Did about 40 miles with the old girl spinning at about 4,500 in top gear. Ran like a champ. Unfortunately, it also heated up a good deal more than my previous leisurely pace had managed. In so doing, all that extra oil vented out the crankcase breather... And all over the right rear of the bike. Including the right sidewall and shoulder of the tire.

So, here I was, oblivious to all of this, when I began to approach my exit. It's a really fun, gentle, 70-80 mph (on the Sporty) right hand sweeper. As soon as I started to gently lean into it, the rear tire slipped out and I found myself doing my very best reverse Jay Springsteen imitation. With no idea what was going on, I thought maybe I had a flat rear tire, so I managed to stand it back up and get on the front brake pretty hard. It felt stable going straight, so I was already beginning to question my flat tire hypothesis. I scrubbed off enough speed to now be down in second gear, but as soon as I leaned it over, it did it again and I almost went down.

I finally managed to stop on the shoulder so I could assess the situation. While it was all too obvious what had happened, I was still shaking like a leaf. Fortunately, it was only a few blocks to home, and they were all left hand turns.

Geebers that scared the crap outa me. Once I calmed down, I got pretty mad at myself for having made such a fundamental, potentially catastrophic mistake. I know better. Be careful out there, kids. The most familiar things will sometimes bite us. I got lucky - real lucky.