Curveball

Sometimes life just throws you a curveball.

The R1 didn't start again today. As it didn't yesterday. Although it started yesterday afternoon.
Bad news is that it didn't start this afternoon. Boooooo!

So now what? Intermittent electrical problem? Ignition? Power Commander? Starter motor?
God dammit.

After rolling the bike down the driveway to start it yesterday, I went to fire it up and got diddly squat. A poofteenth of a spark and not even a churn. All the clocks had reset and the display dimmed down. FUCK! So then I have to roll the bastard back up the driveway and back into the yard, turn the 400 around and then take that to work. So by now, I'm puffed from pushing the 190kg around, my arms are sore and quite frustrated. Well, shit just happened. So off I go to work on the little cibby.

I had just made it to Guildford Road when I felt a ridiculous pain in my right thigh. I look down and there's one fat furry bastard of a bee lodged in my leg. I pulled over onto a side street, flicked the bee off to see that the sting was still in my pants. Off the glove came as I tried to scrape the sting off to no avail. Right, I'm pulling the bloody thing out as is. So I wrenched out the sting, and boy did it hurt. In fact, 36 hours later it still itches like buggery. Where's Robin with that Stingose?

Life sometimes likes to send you a friendly reminder that you're not always in control, no matter how "sussed" you think you have it.