There are days when I question the issues of owning/maintaining a vintage bike (and this isn't even seriously vintage, it's younger then me!), or at least the questionable decision to use said bike for daily commuting.
This morning was a bit rough start after having been left alone for a rainy week, but I managed to get it to run, albeit with a bit of a limp. Halfway to work, it began revving all over the place and exuding the twin fumes of rich exhaust and leaking gasoline. Never a good sign. I had a distinctly Snoopy v/s the Red Baron feel. Especially with the bright red BMW that was following way too closely.
I get to work to note gas dripping out of the carb holders and hissing off the still ticking exhaust. Disgusted, I put it up on the center-stand and came into my office (the one bright spot of this story is that there is now a motorcycle parking lot within a stone's throw of my building, so I don't have to walk several blocks anymore).
After absorbing some coffee and reading up online I think I can do a curbside fix to get me home, but another round of tests and tweaks will be required. In one way I'm wondering if this bike will ever be finished, and on the other I'm glad I've got something to take my mind of the current madness at work.