When is enough too much? When you're never done I suppose, just like Bob says. We all attack our new projects with that remarkable obsession that sees us pour over every magazine article or video we can lay our hands on. We engage in excellent forums such as this one where we establish our credentials and watch as our membership becomes an obsession in its own right. We spend endless hours on ebay, swap meets and the garage floor, not quite sure we're doing it right but surprised and delighted when she somehow fires up. We spend road time exploring our locality, catching a glimpse of our lovely machine reflected in shop windows. We sit in cafes or pubs watching fellow motorcyclists pause to inspect our restored beauty or responding in self-deprecating terms to admirers regarding the torturous effort required to rebuild and maintain such a "relic". We pause occasionally in the garage, coffee or beer in hand, to appreciate that gleaming coachwork and graceful lines and we work up the courage to tackle that leaking carburettor or weeping gasket seal 'cause we know that arthritis is going to weaken our grip and the strain of getting up is starting to make us hesitate before we commit to getting down. Eventually, the old girl sits in the shed untouched for days, weeks or even months and we begin to consider what we could use the space and money for if we sold it now before another major refit.
That appears to be the way of things. Some of the contributors here are true aficionados - genuine experts who can live their machines. The rest of us are tinkerers, skilled in our own right but still border dwellers bitten by the bug. That's why, over time, the rank and file come and go and only the purists remain. This is true for almost any avid "hobby" I've undertaken. I am a qualified diver. I have dived all over the Middle East, Asia and the Pacific. I used to have a stack of "International Diver" magazines as high as my refrigerator. I am diving in New Guinea over the Xmas break and I found myself looking at the resort photos the other day, wondering if their bar service by the pool was any good.
A change of priorities? A perspective shaped by advancing age? Maybe. We have all done the Yammie 650 bit and loved it. We have all achieved and learned from our mistakes. We have new skills, new friends and the evidence of our successes sitting on our garage floors and we are still doing it - that's why you're reading this. It might be time for an oil change - I'll get to it eventually and when I can't, I'll leave the old lady to my sons in my will - a part of my legacy, a beautiful part.
When is enough too much? Never! I'm hobbling down to open a beer and look at her now.
Cheers