Project Arnie

Project Arnie

This past summer I was very stressed out and worried about my health. My wife thought it would be a good idea if I took my mind off things. I decided to spend sometime offline and get involved with a project. It didn’t take long before I decided to look into getting another motorcycle. I was fortunate to have owned several in my lifetime but I always just went out and bought something practical. I had no desire to buy with a loan this time. So I decided I would find an old bike to restore even though I had no idea how to do that. After scouring craigslist and eBay for weeks I stumbled upon several candidates. It’s always fun to discover what one persons idea of mint condition is versus another. So after three disappointments I was about to give up. The last bike I went to see actually was leaking gas everywhere. Somehow catching on fire didn’t appeal to me. The bike had enough rust under the seat to indicate it spent most of the seventies outside.

One Saturday I stumbled across an eBay auction that just ended without a sale. I was hesitant to email the person because I thought it was to good to be true and the bike was hours away. I already imagined the seller saying “it’s in mint condition just look at the pics”.
Well, I fell for that one before but the woman that responded to my email was very nice and had her son contact me by phone to described the bike in more detail. Although I asked every possible question I could think of at the time, thanks to google and some basic understanding of an engine, I still wasn’t very confident. You hope the item you want to buy is what they are describing, but this is not amazon. There are no reviews, just me and several hours of driving and wishing for the best. So I said screw it, these people sound nice and honest and I drove up north the very next day with my fifteen dollar Uhaul trailer behind me. The whole point was to get a cheap and enjoyable project motorcycle and avoid a basket case. I always loved Honda motorcycles since I was a kid. At about age nine I learned how to climb a fence on a 50cc monkey bike. That wasn’t the plan of course it just happened, panic equals full throttle, equals meet wood fence. Those were the days no parents in site or helmets. There were no creepers lurking around the corner and you neighbors always helped you.

Well, I arrived at my destination in about two and a half hours. I could have made it in two hours but I was pulling an empty trailer which made me nervous. I thought I might forget I’m pulling something and sideswipe someone. I pulled up the driveway of this cute little bungalow and saw the motorcycle in the driveway. There it was a vintage shiny black Honda cafe bike.
I was greeted by the lady and her son. I tried not to make it too obvious that I was staring at the motorcycle while I was shaking their hands. We made small talk for little while in the driveway as her son began to pour some fresh gas in the motorcycle tank. I notice it was dent free and rust free inside and the whole bike overall looked good. The son tells me that he’s including new tires with the bike. I’ll just have to install them, ok, so far so good. He hops on the bike, turns the petcock and choke and tries to kick start it. There is something so cool about a kick starter, I blame Fonzie from Happy Days. He tries kick starting several more times but with no luck. Now I’m getting nervous. The bike looks great, it just looks like it needs some elbow grease and I am praying it’s not a giant paper weight. His mom begins to wonder if the bike sat too long.
As we are both standing there, she reveals to me that the motorcycle belonged to her husband who passed away several months ago. I offer my condolences and my heart sinks knowing this bike has sentimental value. Her husband died of cancer after a long battle.

Suddenly her son hops on the bike and bump starts it. It sputters and then rumbles as he travels up and down the street but it doesn't last long. We both come to the conclusion that the motorcycles carburetor is dirty and the battery is dead. I’m invited into the house and enjoy a cup of coffee as we discuss what paper work needs to be done and settle on a price.
They are good people. I am fortunate to have met them and before we knew it hours go by talking about her husbands life and interests. He was a collector of all things and had the mountain of stuff in the garage to prove it. As a matter of fact, he was riding at a flea market when a man who liked the Chinese scooter he was on offered to trade the scooter for his cafe motorcycle. They swapped even. He was surprised as he felt he got the much better deal.

The man was a talented watchmaker and repairmen. We all laughed when she described his choice words when a tiny part of a watch he was repairing would fall off the table and onto the floor, resulting in a search party. It was getting dark outside and I began to prepare to leave.
Her son made the kind gesture of lowering the price of the bike because he didn’t feel comfortable that the bike was not idling well.

He told me that they were both so happy his father’s bike was going to a good home. I was very appreciative, not only was the bike not a basket case, l but it actually was in mint condition. It was the right amount of work not to overwhelm a nubie like me.
We loaded the bike securely to the motorcycle trailer and I left for home. I received a thumbs up approval from a smiling motorist on the highway which caught me off guard. No one ever did that before. Over the next few weeks I obsessed on cleaning, rebuilding and replacing small parts to bring the thirty-five year old motorcycle back to its former glory. I was proud of myself. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I had fun and got my mind off my worries. Hopefully I helped a family feel a little better about giving up a bit of their loved one, even if it was through the sale of a his motorcycle.

R.I.P Arnold (Arnie)