My Loving Husband, Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

“Sometimes it is better to travel than to arrive.” Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance


Ah, the freedom of the road…

We bought this Honda Nighthawk from a friend of my husband’s, as I was getting tired of riding on the back of a crotch-rocket. Riding this bike was such an improvement, that we bought saddlebags and used this as our main form of transportation on fair weather days. I loved holding my hubby’s waist and scratching his back. The wind & bugs blowing through my hair, the flashing of peace signs to other biker’s & the feeling of utter freedom was exhilarating! This was 5 years ago. We would ride this bike most of the summer & trailer it when we went camping. We were still using a tent back then & the logistics were easier.

About three years ago, we decided to buy a TT, or for ya’all not familiar with the ‘road-traveling lingo’, a Travel Trailer, which is a trailer that needs to be pulled buy a truck. We did not purchase a ‘Toy Hauler’ which as implied, hauls toys. It was a budgetary choice as toy haulers cost much more. This choice made us leave the motorcycle behind during camping trips. It’s sad, cyclopes eye stares back at us when we leave on camping trips as the garage door lowers. Sigh.

The amount of motorcycle rides were going down to nothing. If it was nice out, we would be camping. My husband also has his crotch-rocket that is a bit more fun to ride when he’s solo, thus his choice for the daily commute.

As we live in a four season location, and Jack Frost was nipping at our nose, we moved the Nighthawk to the back of the garage where it would be stored.

It would sit there for the next three years.

Flash forward to last week. Something tugged at my sweetheart’s sleeve & when I came home from work, there were motorcycle parts strewn about the garage and the smell of exhaust hung in the air. The bike had been sitting for three years and wasn’t going to run without a fight.

They say you marry a man like your Father. In some respects this is true. My Father was the king of ‘Jerry-Rigging’, so-much-so that his nickname was Jerry. My husband has the same talent. There is nothing he can’t fix; microwaves, pop-machines, slot-machines, DVRs, projection T.V.s, cars & of course motorcycles. I love this about him. Love.

He’s determined, he’s smart & he’s logical. He doesn’t back down from these types of puzzles. He figured out the carburetor had to be blocked, but what to do about it? How about a hot water bath in the dishwasher?


Cleaning carbs in the dishwasher… Who knew?

His fingers were crossed that these odd steps were going to work, as the consequences of this idea was the stanking-up of the house with ‘engine smells’ and me hoping the dishwasher wasn’t going to reek after this. I left the house to go to the garden for the duration of the dishwasher cycle.


Honey?!? What’s for dinner?

But wait, The next step is to bake it in the oven at 170F for half an hour. Luckily, there was no smell from this and after it cooked, he moved it to the garage to cool off.

The next day he put everything back together and then the moment of truth.

Would it work?

Tune in next week to find out… Oh, just kidding!!

Vroom, vroom, spudder, spudder – Vrooooom! IT’S ALIVE! The Nighthawk lives!

I’m not sure what kind of adventures are ahead of us, but we’re both ready for the challenges. I love my ingenious husband & would let him wash anything in my dishwasher, anytime.

Happy (Fur) Father’s day, my love. =-)

© Ilex Farrell – Midwestern Plant Girl

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