Time to get your motor running

Klonie Jordan (editor@gaffneyledger.com) is executive editor of The Gaffney Ledger. "Come on baby."

I had turned on the gas and pulled the choke lever out all the way. She had been sitting for about four months with little or no attention, well, not much more than occasionally checking the trickle charger.

Now I was gently pushing what one of my Motorcycle Safety Foundation course instructors once referred to as "the happy button."

For those uninitiated to the world of 2-wheelers, what he was referring to was the starter button.

The V-Star groaned. I let the button out, waited a few seconds, then pushed it again. Once more she groaned like a middle aged man trying to sleep in on Saturday while an overbearing wife insists he roll out of bed and clean the gutters.

The V-twin had been resting comfortably since about October. I never have cared for cold weather and you know it's been unseasonably cold this winter. So me and my motorcycle had almost forgotten about each other. But she had been inside where it was dry and reasonably warm.

I pushed the button once more. This time the rumble from beneath the seat sort of took me by surprise. It had been awhile. I sat there and enjoyed the moment. No need to rush it, just let her catch her breath and stretch. A couple of minutes later, I rolled the throttle and the engine vibration sent a shudder up my spine.

Yeah baby. That's what I'm talking about.

I clicked her into first gear and gently rolled her out the shed door into the backyard grass.

If you don't ride motorcycles, you've probably given up on this column by now. If you do ride them, you know what I'm talking about. I've seen a lot of you out there the past few days when the sunshine came out and the thermometer stretched toward the 70-degree mark. I've seen a bunch more out there when the temperatures weren't quite that comfortable. Those are the hard-liners, the heated vest crowd, the Beamer boys with the heated handgrips and seats.

Like I said, I don't care for the cold. When I get on my bike, I need for it to be warm. So I've been waiting a lot longer than most of the rest of you. Call me weak.

I rolled her out through the gate and onto the driveway, then lowered the kickstand and switched the engine off.

She needed a bath. Man, where did all those bugs on the windshield come from? I don't remember that many squashed insects on there when I last put her up. I think bugs were sneaking into the shed at night and committing suicide by throwing themselves onto the windshield.

And how did the saddle and tank get so dusty?

I would take care of that later. Right now, I needed to just ride - anywhere.

I climbed back on, straightened her up, turned the key and once again squeezed the starter button.

This time, she kicked right in, sort of like she couldn't wait to get going.

So we did. I slowly rolled down the driveway, checked both ways, then leaned right and headed toward the highway. It was a short ride, just to the office and back. I had forgotten how good this felt.

I was also a little rusty. There's nothing like getting back on a motorcycle after a few months of inactivity to remind you how quickly you can forget things.

My calendar says Wednesday is the first day of spring. That means it's riding season.

That means it's time to get out and stretch those longdormant limbs.

That means it's time to check the oil and tire pressure and dust off the helmet and boots.

Enjoy it. And most of all, be careful out there.