Saying Farewell to My First Bike

I'd been postponing it for several weeks, but yesterday, I finally sold my 1987 Yamaha Virago 535. Although I haven't ridden the Virago much since buying my 2002 Harley-Davidson Wide Glide earlier this year, part of me was reluctant to part with the Yamaha. Call me sentimental ... after all, it was my first bike and served me well as a newbie rider.

I bought the Virago in February 2009, with only 3,015 miles on the odometer, for $1,000. The one-owner bike still had the original tires, but they were dry-rotted, so I immediately spent another $400 to put new tires on it. I then proceeded to ride the daylights out of it as soon as I registered it, even though it was cold that March. I put about 6,500 miles on it by the end of last year, and added a passenger backrest and luggage rack to the bike.

When I bought my Harley at the beginning of this year, I had two bikes parked side-by-side in my garage. At first, I thought I might keep the Yamaha as a backup or 'spare' bike, but then I figured that selling the Yamaha would fund some nice upgrades to my Harley. The latter thought won out.

After replacing a broken turn signal and mirror on the Yamaha about a month ago, I began the process of detailing the bike. I always took good care of it mechanically, but let's just say I spent more time riding it than cleaning it. I think I washed it maybe twice last riding season. So about two weeks ago, I began the detailing process with a good washing. I worked on the bike an hour or two at a time over the last several days, polishing the paint and chrome, cleaning the wheels and spokes and using a product called "Back to Black" by Mothers to renew black plastic and rubber parts. Then I rode the bike to a parking lot to take the digital photos I would use in the Craigslist ad.

I first posted my ad on Wednesday and got no response. I re-posted the ad on Friday, with the same asking price, $1,500. This time, I got three responses by email and another three by phone, but no one made firm plans to actually look at the bike. So, I rode it to my girlfriend Anna's house Friday night, since it was a nice night and I was overdue for a ride. Being a thoughtful guy, I brought an extra helmet, figuring she would want to go for a quick, local ride.

"I'm so much closer to you on this bike," said Anna, who is used to riding on the back of my much-larger Harley instead.

On Saturday, I got a call from a guy named Geoff, who seemed interested in the bike and wanted to see it. It had rained pretty heavily overnight, so I was still at Anna's house. I had Geoff meet me at a nearby Walgreens parking lot that afternoon. Luckily, by then, the rain had stopped and it was beginning to clear up. Geoff arrived with his girlfriend, who was just learning how to ride a motorcycle. She sat on the bike and liked that her feet easily touched the ground. Geoff, an experienced rider, had brought his helmet and I let him take my bike for a short ride. He liked how the bike handled, and after his girlfriend gave the thumbs-up, said he wanted to buy it.

I had them follow me as I rode the bike back to my apartment late Saturday afternoon. By now, the sun was out and it was rather pleasant riding. But it was a bittersweet ride, because I knew it was probably the last time I would be on the Yamaha. I rode it leisurely, enjoying the smooth, quiet predictability of Japanese engineering, in contrast to the blustery, less-refined Big Twin power of the Harley. Two different animals, indeed.

Back at my place, where I had all the paperwork for the bike, including the owner's manual, repair manual and service history (Geoff was impressed that I kept detailed records), I was just about to complete the bill of sale, when Geoff pulled out a check book, to my surprise. I had just assumed he would bring cash, so I followed him to an ATM, where he withdrew some cash and gave me a deposit until he could return the next day with the rest of the cash.

Geoff and his girlfriend returned yesterday afternoon, and I made sure everything was ready to go, down to checking the tire pressure. We talked for several minutes about the bike, and he sensed I was having a bit of separation anxiety.

"Sad to see it go?" Geoff asked.

"A little bit," I replied.

A few minutes later, I watched him as he rode the bike down my driveway and onto the street. It reminded me of when I used to visit my grandmother, and she always watched me drive away, visibly sad to see me go.

But, I did feel better selling the bike to people who are into motorcycles. Geoff said that after his girlfriend outgrows the bike, he will probably keep it for his daughter, who also wants to learn to ride someday.

Prepping the Yamaha

Since I bought my Harley earlier this year, my first motorcycle, a red 1987 Yamaha Virago, has received very little attention. My buddy Mike Chretien was right when he predicted, "you're not going to ride it" anymore.

I've only had it out two or three times since I bought the Harley, mostly short rides just to keep the battery charged. I knew I was going to be selling it, and I had to make a couple minor repairs, but it wasn't high on my priority list.

A couple weeks ago, I finally overcame my procrastination and bought the two parts I needed: a mirror, and a rear turn signal. The left rear turn signal broke last summer when the bike tipped over after I parked the bike, but failed to ensure my kickstand was locked in (that was embarrassing!), and the right mirror broke last fall when I was trying to walk the bike on some grass, lost my balance and the bike tipped over.

I had gotten used to riding the Yamaha without a functioning left rear turn signal (I hand signaled instead), or a right side mirror, but since I am selling the bike, I want it to be fully functional and safe for the next rider.

Although it took me several months to get the parts, which I found used on eBay, at least they didn't sit in my garage too long once I received them. I installed them today when I had a couple hours of free time. Now all the bike needs is a good cleaning before I put it up for sale.

How I Came to Ride, Part 3 - My First Motorcycle

By December 2008, I had my motorcycle license. My goal was to save enough money to buy a used Harley-Davidson Sportster for somewhere between $4,000 and $5,000. That was a tall order, seeing as how I had gotten laid off from my job a couple of months before due to the bad economy.

I saved every bit of money that didn't go toward paying bills, even rolling coins. I put off things like eating out or movie tickets. I scrimped and saved, and got odd jobs here and there. Meanwhile, I scanned motorcycles for sale on Craigslist. In early February, some of my fellow CMA/Romans 8 Riders members and I attended the Northeast Motorcycle Expo, my first big motorcycle show. Several used bikes were for sale, and I sat on my first Harleys.

Seasoned bikers told me the best deals on bikes were in the winter, and prices would go up in the spring. I had abandoned all hope of getting a Sportster, since there was no way I'd save up enough in time for spring, still being out of work. In fact, I began to worry if I'd even be able to get any kind of bike. Realistically, I'd only managed to save about $1,500 by late February, and from browsing online, there appeared to be few decent bikes in the $1,000-$1,500 range.

Then, a few people from Romans 8 Riders suggested I call Frank Rider, who owns Rider's Motorcycles, a repair shop in West Warwick, R.I. Frank, who is also a Christian biker, also sells motorcycles on consignment. I called Frank and he had a 1987 Yamaha Virago 535 for sale. The owner was asking $1,500 for it. So I went down and looked at the bike, which was very clean for an older bike, plus it had very low mileage (3,000). I didn't get to ride it, but Frank, whose shop had done the recent maintenance on the bike, assured me it ran very well. Since it needed new tires (it still had the original tires, but they were dry-rotted), I offered $1,000, and the owner accepted my offer. Frank's shop ordered and installed new tires, and a few days later, I picked it up in my van. I believe God had reserved that bike for me. Someone else was about to buy it shortly before I did, but the deal didn't go through.

After getting an insurance policy, the next step was registering the bike. At the registry, I got an unwelcome surprise - I couldn't register the bike because I owed taxes to two towns for my van. I'd moved so many times since I'd bought my van that I never got any late notices. I found out I owed $500 to one town, and $400 to another. This put a huge crimp in my budget, and the bike sat in the garage while I scrimped and scraped enough money to pay the back taxes, sales tax and registration fees. I even had to sell off some tools. Finally, in mid-March, it was registered, and by that time, the snow had melted, so I took to the road, cold be damned - I was too excited to wait for warmer weather.

At first, I stuck to roads in my neighborhood. Then, after a few days, I went on two-lane roads with more traffic and traffic lights. Then when I was comfortable with that, I drove on four-lane roads with higher speeds. Before long, I was riding on interstate highways.

The Virago 535 is a good beginner's bike. It is well balanced and easy to handle, has enough power to ride on the highway, and is fun to drive around town or on back country roads. I've had it up to 95 mph, although once you get past 55, the engine is buzzing pretty hard. The suspension leaves a lot to be desired, especially on the lousy Rhode Island roads; the bike feels like it bottoms out a lot and the ride can be jarring. The stock exhaust systems looks cool, but makes the engine sound like a sewing machine.

I found out that Virago 535s - which have kind of a cult following in England, Europe and parts of Asia - have a lot of quirks, such as a gas tank that is underneath the seat (the seat actually swivels up to access the gas cap); a fuel pump; an electronic fuel reserve switch instead of a petcock; and a sticky starter button that may cause your headlight to go out (there is an easy fix for that).

I've had newer cars and trucks the last several years, but I quickly found that owning an older bike means you either learn to be a mechanic, or else be prepared to constantly pay a garage for repairs. I chose to do my own repairs, since I used to work on my own clunkers in high school and well into my 20s. I replaced a throttle cable, changed the oil and filter, adjusted the valve clearance and changed the fork oil on my Virago so far. This summer, it left me stranded a few times when the main fuse blew. I think it may have been a bad ground connection. I cleaned the ground connection and it's been okay since, so I'm hoping that was the problem.

The bike has no saddlebags or windshield, so it's not really suited for long rides. Your butt gets numb after about 45 minutes on the bike.

Still, for all its shortcomings, it was fun to ride, and stylish to boot. I put 6,000 miles on it between March and November. I've never dumped it while riding. The only times I dropped it was when I parked it and thought I had the kickstand locked in, but apparently it wasn't. It broke the left rear turn signal and dented the rear fender a bit. Another time I had to push it off the road after it broke down. I lost my balance on some grass, and the bike fell over and broke the right mirror.

In late September, while riding on the highway, I began noticing the bike would not go faster than 65 mph, even if I buried the throttle. I suspect a faulty fuel pump, but haven't had time to really troubleshoot it. But the bottom line is I have outgrown this bike, which weighs just over 400 pounds. Even before the possible fuel pump issue, I had been wanting for more power and acceleration. Basically, it's just not a Harley ...