Good Old Days (Part III)

[atomsplitter]

What happened was Ralph pulled in the clutch lever to the bar and gently tapped down on the shift lever with his left foot. Nothing happened. The lever moved a quarter inch and hit solid resistance. Ralph decided to try a little more force and rev the engine a bit to help the clutch. So he gave the engine a quick rev and slammed down on the shift lever simultaneously. The bike shot across the gravel road like it was shot from a cannon with the front wheel about 3 feet off the ground and Ralph desperately holding on. Ralph was still holding the clutch lever in and the bike was steaming across the ditch and into the soft wheat field with alarming alacrity. Ralph was heard to say something on the order of "SHIIIIIT!!!" The bike was throwing up some serious amounts of well groomed soil as Ralph desperately tried to gain control (I don't believe from a philosophical sense that it is possible to regain what one never had, as in regain control, but I digress). Safely standing on the porch watching Ralph doing a masterful job of bouncing off the planet, doing pirouettes on the foot pegs and performing a perfect flailing handstand on the handlebars was I must admit somewhat satisfying, in that it wasn't me looking like a drunk high school freshman wrestling a gorilla. Ralph's feet were doing a strange combination of bouncing off the ground and foot pegs as the bike careened from the field into the ditch and back again. Ralph finally was able to find the kill switch either on purpose or by accident by the throttle grip and shut off the engine, either way it saved him from soiling his shorts further. He was about fifty yards from where he started. The whole ride lasted about 15 seconds. For Ralph it probably felt a little longer and I noted he had significantly more white hair than he had had the week before.

To myself I thought, "clutch needs a smidgeon of work," to Ralph I yelled, "Bravo, I wish I had brought my camera." Ralph didn't appear overly amused, he was looking pretty wide eyed in fact and he was a shade or two paler than normal, which is amazing considering he was nearly an albino to start with. Mark and I went over to Ralph and the three of us pushed the bike back to Mark's front yard. "Well that didn't work out exactly as planned," I opined. Ralph for his part could when his voice returned could only offer to sell me his half of our project at a significant savings. "So what happened?" I queried.

"Well," Ralph began," when it went into gear I wasn't ready for the bike to launch like that. I slid to the back of the seat and that caused me to pull on the bars which caused the throttle to go open. I had the clutch lever pull but that didn't seem to do anything, and I was afraid if I let go of it I'd lose my grip on the bars, so I was trying to get off the gas. The bike was bouncing off everything and I just couldn't get my feet under me and it wasn't until I hit that soft stuff the bike slowed down enough for me to actually start steering it. I knew I didn't want to jump off the bike although I was tempted about a billion times mostly because I was afraid the bike might come back and run me over. Holy **** that thing has too much power!!" he said.

"And not quite enough clutch," I quietly observed.