With the sun shining, the days a little longer, and work done for the day, I used the fact that I needed a new gasket as an excuse to ride over to the Harley store so I could take the long way home.
I have a friend who once told her husband she needed some gas in the bike and was heading over to the gas station to fill up. Three hours later, she walked back in the door. I think she realized the importance of using up the old gas before you fill it up with new gas—or something like that. Had he realized what she was doing, I think he would have joined her. I believe it's important to regularly rotate the fuel in your gas tank.
Anyway... I'm still getting a little drip under the crankshaft cover, so I think I might have tweaked the gasket somehow when we installed the new cams on the little hot rod. It's possible that it's just dripping from what spilled on the cables underneath the case, but it left quite a puddle so I thought I'd pull the cover and wanted a fresh gasket. I felt like the $5.00 investment in my peace of mind was worth it. I'm generally of the opinion that replacing o-rings and gaskets when you are working on the bike just makes sense.
I had spoken to Kelly earlier in the day, and decided to meet at the dealership. After shooting the breeze a little, admiring the new bikes in the showroom, and making my formal stop at the parts counter to purchase a nice new gasket (my regular contribution to keeping the local Harley dealer financially solvent), it was time to take the long way home. With my new gasket tucked safely in my tour pack, I was ready to enjoy the first day of spring.
The dealership is fairly close to an on-ramp for eastbound I-80, so we decided to take what's called the Belt Route around the east side of the valley, jump off at the mouth of Big Cottonwood Canyon and work our way home.
It was a beautiful afternoon to spend an hour in the saddle. Particularly when my work colleagues in New York are expecting what they called a "blizzard" tomorrow morning.
Kelly pulled up outside my house as I pulled into the garage and we talked about what I had been doing with the Buell, what was next, and talked bikes for a while before he saddled up to go home. Sometimes it doesn't take much to scratch the itch, but scratch you must.