I like to ride. In fact, my mechanic says that I'm piling so many miles on Spinner that he wants to check my rear spokes, my drive belt and my tire. He encourages me to bring her in for the 10K check-up despite having only +8 on the odometer.
Now, Spinner is spotless. It's a matter of 'wear.' I do not over-rev or drag race. I think Spinner has been over 85 MPH only once--or twice.
The problem, he states, is that I actually ride my bike. He doesn't see that much. Our newspaper is filled with creampuff bikes for sale with only 2K on them.
I tell you that because
I quit riding yesterday at 2:00PM because I wasn't having fun. The day started nice, not a cloud in the sky. Yikes, did it get hot fast! By the time I left the gym yesterday morning I was already regretting wearing a jean jacket. As the afternoon progressed I actually asked myself if it was logical to burn premium gas for something that simply wasn't fun.
I came home. Now, as a younger man I deliberately started out in a pouring thunderstorm to get to a tavern to celebrate my birthday with friends. Yesterday I quit riding because various nether regions of my own personal body were being slowing roasted over an open fire--which happened to be a Sportster. No kidding, I jumped three red lights so I didn't have to sit through them.
Two things. I'm going to look at oil coolers. I'm also going to ask my doc about HGH supplements before I start watching home interior decorating shows...