"So why does the battery keep going dead"? I asked Foxace.
"Well," he replied, "I know there is a short somewhere in the electrical system, but I haven't been able find it."
"But, this has been going on since our trip to Knoxville last year. Every couple of months the darn thing dies and we have to get a new battery because we can't even re-charge the dead one. This is really frustrating. She really is 'the Sportster from Hell'."
"I know. If I don't find the problem soon I'm going to sell her off one piece at a time. We'll just have to limp into Savannah tomorrow and have another look at it. Right now, I'm tired and we both could use dinner, a shower and a good nights rest."
Ever since the accident in Knoxville the previous August, her Sportster had been difficult at best.
That accident itself was amazing. He hit her from behind. He went down. She did not. The next morning they rose to a dreadful thunderstorm and a dead Sportster. Now it is June, nearly a year, numerous light bulbs, four batteries and an alternator later, and 'it' was still on the fritz. Today it seemed that every time Foxy hit the turn signals the headlight and taillight would either flash or go out completely, depending on which turn signal she used. Weird.
In the morning we would continue to Savannah and once again tackle fixing the problem...that is, if the 'Sportster from Hell' could be started.
What a strange day. Sportster started just fine. The lights are still weird. Most of the day spent on interstate highway running with no headlight and using hand signals only. I'd shut the light off when I hit the highway then turn it back on when I got on an offramp in hope of saving the battery. It seemed to charge ok without the light on while the scooter was running.
Now we are in Savannah, in the parking garage of the Hyatt, and Foxace is on his back on the ground poking around under Sportster's rear fender.
"I laid awake half the night thinking about this" he told Foxy. "Where on the bike, besides behind the headlight I've torn apart three times already, do all of those wires come together? Has to be the rear fender."
"Well would you look at this" Foxace declared as he showed Foxy a beautiful bunch of copper sticking out from under the fender. "Evidently, when I hit you last year, the wires got moved and the insulation wore off. Which means I probably didn't pull the fender out enough when I straightened it. That's why Sportster was dead the next morning. It had spent the rest of the day rubbing away at its own wiring." After a moment he added, "guess I should have known to look there first".
In retrospect, it was only one, very strange year. A real pain in the mazurka! To be looking forward to a ride, only to be stuck changing a battery or fussing with wiring! I'd gotten to where I did not even want to go anywhere. Especially if I had to go alone!
Ever since Foxace rewrapped the rear wiring, Sportster has been very reliable. Her nick name 'Sportster from Hell' has even begun to fade from our vocabulary when referring to her. She is once again Frigate: low to the ground, built for speed. And, even though I now have the FXR, and Frigate has been retired from long road trips, I still enjoy firing her off for a spin around town.
