Throttle WAS stuck
Rode the bike over the weekend, and the throttle was sticking, it worked great for riding, sorta like cruise control, but sucks for riding because the gas is always on. My first thought was that the bar was bent (dealt with that mess before), or possibly something broken.
Anyway Took the right side of the bar apart tonight, was hoping that just taking it apart would solve it, but it didnt. I had to clean the bar and the plastic tube out pretty good, they were both covered in black gook. I think when I lubed the cables last fall some lube found its way into the throttle housing and finally turned solid enough that it stuck. Put it all back together and its fine now, just goes to show that not all fixes have to cost an arm and a leg. |
Sounds like if you didn't fuck up in the first place, it wouldn't of needed to be fixed. LOL
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Sticking throttle = dangerous situation for sure
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Yeh I think it just took some time to get enough dirt to finally make it stick |
Ive found that before on people's bikes.
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I had blipped the throttle to downshift hard, as someone had just cut across two lanes, and closed the door on me really badly, just as I was approaching from the rear, and I now found myself running up someone's ass...and swiftly...unable to pass, and avoid the inexplicable gathering cluster of morons I was now being forcibly swept into. Now, mind you; I'm down a gear, and I'm WOT. Fanfuckingtastic. I didn't know I could do a sliding 70 mph nose wheelie. Neat. While managing to shut the throttle down too. Hmmm. Bonus. That was shit, however, compared the the death wobble, when it came back down. Great. Now I know it's about to get really interesting. Presence of mind and lightning intuitive reflex somehow saved me, as I stomped the rear brake in the middle of the oscillation exactly 1.5 wobbles in, and miraculously stopped it, dead (no way I could do any such things if I tried on purpose, as I'd surely fucking kill myself...I can't even do a proper wheelie). I casually put my turn signal on, and passed the rolling roadblocks that had tried to kill me without a flinch. When I got to NYC, I found that the incident had weakened my cargo net, and my bag, with all my documents, and my Macbook, was missing. Again, instinctively, I backtracked and found my shit like I had a fucking homing signal, turning around at the exact block I needed to, and finding my bag in the second lane from the right on the West Side Highway. With NYC traffic steaming up from behind me as the light in my rearview went green, I hit the brakes immediately in front of my bag, and prayed I didn't get rear ended. I bent down, and scooped up my bag, and rode up on to the sidewalk immediately at the first available curb cut, where I collapsed on the sidewalk to asses the damage. My Macbook looked like a composition book someone had left in the rain. My toiletries were shattered, and my documents soaked, but otherwise intact. When I got to the hotel, I poured myself a hot bath, and only once inside did my heart even begin to race as I contemplated my evening. Waiting to be damn fucking comfortable before you freak the motherfuck out is always best, I find. What a fucking night. Yeah...sticky throttle? Sucks. |
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Right, clutch in, shut throttle, perform 70 mph sliding nose wheelie, and then save death wobble, in that order.
That's precisely what I did, and thank goodness I didn't need to think about it. It just happened. I'm glad my reflexes are good. Couldn't do even half that shit "on purpose". |
Not to get all fucking cosmic on you and shit, but for what it's worth, I don't think I was actually "meant" to pull all of that miracle fucking ninja shit outta my ass that night either, because my life went to absolute and total shit afterwards, seven different fucking ways.
I don't think I was supposed to make it. |
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Wasn't fun, wasn't exactly as stressful as you may imagine. Everything just kinda almost went freeze frame advance slow, and reaction was very matter-of-fact.
I only lost it when I hit the tub later, and tried to relax, at the hotel. |
I think everybody has had a ninja style save on their bike at least once, that or they crash all the time. But pulling a ninjas shit out of your ass? Did the ninja pull some ninja insertion of his shit on your ass? I would think that would be uncomfortable.
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Ninja moves, Mr. Literal guy.
Pulled 'em out my ass, outta thin air, outta some fucking where, 'cuz I sure ain't no fucking Ninja on a motorcycle...despite what the decal on the bike says. |
Just wanted to clarify that there wasn't a magical mini ninja hiding in your ass that shits for you
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There is, but only on Thursdays.
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