Philip Fibiger

Motorcycle Mechanics Institute, here I come!

My cousin Randy and I spent the better part of Saturday afternoon working on my motorcycle, in an attempt to clear up the coughing/hesitation it’s been experiencing, as well as the way it’s been running rough, especially when wound up to over 7,000 rpm. Replacing the inline fuel filter was the plan of attack. A couple hours later, covered with grease and having dumped at least a quart of gas from the tank onto the ground and onto me while taking it off and putting it back on, it was immensely satisfying to thumb the starter and have the engine come back to life, running better than it ever has. As Randy said, “For a couple of amateur hacks, we did ok.”

Of course, every job like this needs a victory ride, so we took off from his house in the Hollywood Hills, up Mullholland and down into Bel Air (my they have big houses), down into the Valley (it’s pretty frickin’ hot there in the summer), through topanga canyon (it dropped about 20 degrees when we dipped into the canyon) to the PCH. The last quarter mile of Topanga is amazing, you come out of some blind turns, rise a bit, and all the sudden the Pacific comes into view, sparkling blue, and you drop back down to the ocean. Los Angeles can be a really beautiful and amazing place to live.