5 fatal mistakes not to be made in order to succeed in a running-in
Is that it? You got your brand-new bike?
Is that it? You got your brand-new bike? Before you set off, you must know these five fatal mistakes that even the most experienced bikers make.
I would like to understand how put-a-click titles work and who develops them. Since a lot of e-marketing was invented by the sex video industry, I suspect that put-a-click has a lot to do with the tabloid press (that no one reads but that everyone flips around while pushing scared "rhooooo"). Is there an Adademy Putà click? I mean... Let's get back to our burning-in stories.
This way, you'll find on YouTube a lot of people who tell you what to do and not do during a running-in. You can ignore them: their advice is worthless. The only points to watch are the five listed below.
1. Mettre les gants sur le réservoir au premier plein
That quick dealership gave you barely three liters of gas, so we have to hurry up to the pump. Now, you make the first fatal mistake: put your gloves on the tank, close to the hatch. You Don't know your tank yet or how it fills. Of course, it has to be. The chute suddenly pulls back. Gasoline splashes everywhere and your gloves will stink like 98 for a week (15 days if it's your winter gloves, soaked at heart).
First mistake: never put your gloves on the tank at the first full (and Don't sit on your saddle either).
2. Tripatouiller les boutons du tableau de bord au 1er feu rouge
Any dealer worthy of the name should display this warning on the dashboard buttons: "Don't touch that, you little prick!". Everything goes out.
Since we told you not to touch that (you idiot!).
3. Te faire doubler par une nana en sportive
Yes, I do. No, I'm not.
This is not a question of new stiff tires with still bright flanks of post-vulcanization de-molding agent. Not in relation to the brakes, whose machining marks can still be seen on the tracks, or even of 6,000 laps not to be exceeded, otherwise there will be holes in the pistons. Not at all, not at all. You can go all the way, even if you shoot at it like a gort, she'll still make her 100,000 miles without flinching. Here's why.
From the factory, the motorcycles are set to "contest pussy" mode, the injection is curtailed and the ignition set "full delay" to come out to fart 9.8 horsepower. This is so that the standard nun is at least 400 meters long before it crashes; to vomit before you even get out of the dealership parking lot, it's very bad for business.
Because, of course, right now, you're gonna run into one of your buddies and your reputation in the gang will be over.
4. Lire le manuel d'utilisateur ou RTFM pour les intimes
You should never read the operating manual on your motorcycle. Never, ever. You might find out there's a little screw there that does a lot of seemingly great stuff when you turn it. Or a button on your dashboard that opens the doors to a new universe.
Because of course you're going to want to turn the said screw, or press the button mentioned above, like a Pandora who would have passed the big fluorescent yellow sticker with the head of death on her proverbial box.
Several hours later, you will inevitably return to the dealership, the low face and your motorcycle wattling miserably because of the famous screw. Or the dashboard started paging frantically by displaying instructions in an alphabet that even Google doesn't recognize-you shouldn't have pressed the button.
Naïf, tu pensais que ton concessionnaire chéri allait te régler ça en deux coups de cuillère à pot... mais queudalle. Cinq semaines plus tard, deux techniciens dépêchés spécialement du Japon continuent d'ausculter ta moto ; au fil des jours, ils ont la mine de plus en plus défraîchie alors qu'ils tentent en vain de comprendre comment cet abruti de gaijin a pu autant semer le bazar sur leur moto en appuyant sur un seul bouton.
5. There is no fifth reason
Is it still funny when the fifth reason is Obi-Wan Kenobi?
