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| The last known picture of the SV |
At the end of last riding season, I had grand plans of revitalizing the old girl, putting on a fresh paint job, maybe a new exhaust, new suspension--who knew, it was as much as my imagination would allow. Although, there was also the factor of budget, which was of course a significant hurdle. Not to mention other intangibles, namely skill and motivation. Suffice to say, my I found other ways to keep myself occupied during the winter, and not much was done to the SV. And since my living situation has me in close proximity to my neighbors, and the SV wasn't exactly the most discreet sounding bike (especially at 6:30 AM), I just wasn't riding it, at all. So, with a heavy heart, I came to the conclusion it was best to sell it.
Even the preparation to sell it was more of an endeavor than I meant it to be. I had some basic maintenance to do, as well as a thorough cleaning and removal of accessories. Somehow I kept finding other things to do that sounded more entertaining. But little by little, I got more done. By the way, one of the most time consuming and aggravating steps was trying to clean off the gunk that had cemented itself to the underside of the engine from the construction on the Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier. I had to apply copious amounts of vaporous solvents and elbow grease to get that stuff off. I was one step short of reaching for a hammer and chisel.
Anyway, after a couple months of procrastination and re-prioritization, I had the bike up in what I hoped would be a sellable condition. With a bit of trepidation, I placed an ad on Craigslist and hoped for the best. The initial results weren't promising. With the recent trend of great weather, and what I thought was a competive price, I'd hoped for a slew of emails. Instead, I had a lukewarm response at best.
A guy contacted me asking if I'd be interested in trading for a living room set, and possibly a Sig Sauer once he regained posession. I had a couple of responses which didn't even consist of complete words, let alone sentences. And I had one guy just asking to let him know when it sold, so he could know how much he could sell his for. Needless to say, it was hardly the encouraging situation I was hoping for.
But, I refreshed my ad later in the week, and had a more positive response. One guy contacted me with actual complete words, sentences, AND punctuation, so I made sure to not let that opportunity pass me by. He informed me he'd owned a couple of SVs in the past, and liked the looks of mine and we corresponded a couple days sorting out some of the finer details until he could come by and see it in person.
When the day came, it turned out that he was in fact helping his friend pick out a good first bike, and they appeared to be a more affluent version of Chuck and me. They were both contracted engineers at Boeing, the guy was riding a KTM SuperDuke, and the friend was driving a pretty slick looking BMW. The guy was also significantly more experienced and knowledgeable than us, upon shaking hands, he got right down to business and gave the SV a thorough looking over. It was the equivalent to a physical, complete with the prostate exam.
He quickly spotted flaws in the bike, which I'd been hoping wouldn't be noticed, or I'd just grown so accustomed to that I hadn't thought about in a long time. But all in all, he seemed OK with what he saw. While he took it out on a test ride, I sat and chatted with his friend, who sounded much like me a few years ago. He'd always wanted a bike, he had a friend that knew a bunch about motorcycles, and with all the great weather we've been having and seeing other bikers out, his desires were getting that much stronger.
When the guy came back from the test ride, he was straightforward with what his thoughts were. All in all, the bike seemed sound, but the exhaust needed some work (leaks at the joints) and the clutch felt like it probably needed to be replaced soon. So after a quick bout of negotiation, we agreed on a price $300 under what I was asking, and called it a deal. Soon after, I was given cash, the title was signed over, and I watched my old friend ridden off to a new stage in life.
It was a weight off my shoulders, to have the SV sold, since it was more or less collecting dust for the past year. But naturally, I'm experiencing a period of bereavement, thinking of the good times we had together. The first night of me taking it out for a ride with Chuck, and the agonizing incident of repeated stalls as I tried to make it through an intersection, with Chuck blocking traffic for me.
Or the first extended trip that Chuck and I did, circumnavigating the Olympic Peninsula. It had been a largely boring ride, mostly just a straightish 2 lane highway with periods of trees and deforestation. But then upon reaching the northern section of the route, the road got twisty and interesting, and I got my first real taste of the exhilaration of hammering the throttle through turns. I'm sure my technique was cringeworthy, but those few miles of road remain some of my fondest memories in motorcycling.
Naturally, other moments stand out when I think of the SV: my first real road trip, touring solo through Oregon; an impromptu weekend getaway to Horning's Hideout with Chuck; and of course, our big trip out to Glacier. Even though it wasn't a top of the line bike, was a little long in the tooth, maybe not the most stylish, it was a great machine. It taught me how to ride, took me where I wanted, was ultra reliable, even when neglected, and I never got bored on it. I took it out for a quick test ride before the guys came to look at it, and still, it gave me tingles with with its exhaust note, quick acceleration and nimbleness that the Tiger, for all it's superiority, can't replicate.
So it's no surprise that seeing the SV go is a bittersweet transition for me. Of the ways to go though, this surely is the best. I'm much happier to see her going on to a new home to a new rider, rather than ending up as a collection of bent metal at the scrap yard. I just hope that he treats it well, and is able to derive at least a fraction of the enjoyment I got during my ownership. Now I'm just left with a void in the garage. And I ponder if it will be filled, and if so, what that might be.
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| The severed apron string of the battery tender |
