Chicago Strikes Again.

The girlfriend and I were having a look around Isle of Man, a new moto-vintage-boutique that moved into the city recently. We had a nice long talk with Arthur about the amazing lot of gear and bikes he would be acquiring in the next week. On our walk back to the CX, we found something rather disheartening.

The deep grind marks on the top portion of the tank were what first caught my eye...then the huge dent from the bars...then the gouged controls...then the ground up cylinder head...then the dented headlight...then the scuffed up fork.

...then I saw the note that was left wedged into the steering tube section. At this point I breathed a short, defeated, sign of relief. The bike hasn't been up and running for more then a few weeks. Hell, I haven't even had the chance to take a proper photo shoot of it yet.

I took a deep breath, clicked on the ignition, opened the petcock, flipped the kill switch, crossed my fingers, and hit the starter button. A big cloud of white smoke shot out of the exhaust, and the right side cylinder did it's best to chug away, holding the idle all on it's own. Gas drizzled out of the bowl drain tubes onto the pavement.

After a short phone call with the woman who left the note, she and her husband came back to the scene to exchange information. They pulled up in a new Mercedes SUV and I later found out she was a state attorney. Both good signs when you're vehicle has sustained the damages in an accident. The couple was very nice and assured me they'd fix anything that needed to be. As of now, that's where this story hangs. I'll be going back to the garage tonight to take detailed photos and log the damage dealt. We were planning on packing up the bike and taking it up north for a 4th of July camping trip this weekend. Looks like we'll be traveling on 4 wheels instead.