How Fast Can a Parked Bike Go?

January 23^th, 2006

muse@bikerenews.com

Last weekend I was faced with a dilemma that is common to most bikers. Over the last several weeks (maybe months), I had to choose between riding and washing my bike. Given the combination of work schedule and wet weather, there was never enough time to do both. In other words, my bike was better at entertaining me than I was about giving it the tender loving care that it deserved.

Last weekend, my conscience got the best of me. As I walked past my bike in the garage, it was starting to look old before it's time. The paint had lost its luster. The chrome had lost its shine. The windshield was a tribute to entomology (the study of insects).

Now I have to admit that I looked at my rain spotted, dust covered, bug bombarded bike with a certain amount of pride. I've always been suspicious of advertisements for older bikes that use phrases like, "garage kept, never ridden in the rain, low mileage." I tend to think this says more about the owner than the bike. In fact, I wonder if some of these "collector items" would hold up to real road conditions after being pampered for so long.

Don't get me wrong; riding in the rain is one of my least favorite activities. In fact, the only thing worst is riding in the rain at night. However, I know that anybody who rides on a routine basis will find himself dancing with rain and feeling the sting of raindrops on bare skin. Sorry for the sidetrack.

As my guilt began to build, I knew that I had to do something before my "International Chrome Buyers" permit was revoked. Once again, the problem was that I had family errands to run, and the weatherman was calling for rain Saturday afternoon.

Well, a man's got to do what a man's got to do! I ran the family errands and to the weatherman's credit, he got the forecast right. Around 11:00 (that's 011:00 for you anal military types), skies got gray and the clouds started to cry their hateful tears.

If you have read this column before, you may have noticed that my brain tends to lock in on a plan. Therefore, I only had one choice. Wash the bike in the rain. To be fair, it wasn't raining cats and dogs (not even kittens and puppies), but it was sprinkling.

I pulled the bike out of the garage and parked it in the driveway. I could almost feel the bike's disappoint when I didn't start the engine. I knew what it was thinking, "This bozo doesn't take care of me, and now he's going to start leaving me out in the rain." I acted quickly. I took the windshield off so I could get to the front end, and I removed the saddlebags so I could get to the rear wheel and fender.

As I filled the bucket with soapy water and sprayed the bike, I could swear that I saw the light bar turn up at both ends. I knew that the mechanical smile was a flashback to when weekly baths were a common event.

I lathered up the bike with my wash mitten (that's right, mitten). Soapsuds ran across the tank, down the fenders and dripped off the engine fins. I tried to get my hand onto every surface it could reach. I started with the controls, moved to the tank and seat, worked my way down the front end, across the engine compartment, and finished with the rear wheel (kind of reminds you of a Larry Flynt photo shoot, doesn't it).

An alternative to rainsuits...

It turned into a pretty good routine, lather a section; rinse a section. The good thing about washing a bike in the rain is that soapsuds don't dry. The spitting rain gave me a little time to work my way around the bike without rushing to get the soap off before they dried on the bike.

I'm sure the next step in the process has my neighbors reconsidering property values. Having taken a hint from a couple of other bikers, I broke out the leaf blower and started to chase the water drops around the bike. Fortunately, the Biker Gods took pity on me and slapped the crying clouds into submission for a short period of time.

I took advantage of the temporarily dry skies, and attacked the water drops with all the force that the electric leaf blower could generate. My neighbors aside, the leaf blower worked great. While the results are most visible on the flat surfaces, it is all of those recessed nuts and attachments where its best work is done. Blowing water out of those recessed areas eliminates the need to hand dry them with a towel (or Q-tip) to prevent rust areas from developing from standing water.

SIDE NOTE: Another good method is to ride the bike (at high speeds), to let the wind blow the water off of the bike. Of course, on a rainy day this method sort of defeats the purpose of washing the bike.

I finished my mechanical hair drying just as the skies started to whine again. I pulled the bike into the garage to finish the job. Taking a soft rag to the bike, I went after those areas that my mitten hadn't been able to reach. Tight areas around the nuts and bolts were the biggest challenge.

With each phase, new life was breathed into the bike. The paint's luster returned, the chrome started to sparkle, and the bike's posture even improved. Sitting in my garage (stripped of the windshield and saddlebags), was the young bike I had brought home almost two years ago.

Sitting under the lights in my garage, was the shinny machine that had captured my imagination on the showroom floor. This was the same machine that conjured up images of me traveling down the open road with the wind pressing against my chest and the sun shinning on my back. This was the bike that had sung its siren song to me, and sent me home with a new mode of transportation. Better yet, it sent me home with a new friend.

How fast can a parked bike go?

Pretty Damn Fast!

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