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Welcome to the Virago Acquisition page.
This project "started" the summer of 1999. It was an acquisition made by
a friend of mine that he was going to fix. However, with the custom
chopper, dressed Honda 900 ( with dual range trans) , 750 virago and VW
based trike projects, the 920 got pushed to the back of the garage. The
first time I saw it I had to sit on it but thought it was mammoth
compared to the 76 Yamaha 650 I was riding at the time, which I had
fixed up nicely. He said "I think you need that bike. After all, with
all my projects, you know that ( the 920) will never get done." " Nah,
too big" was my reply.
Jump ahead several months and several visits later. D says " Hey your
birthday is coming up and you need another bike project. Why don't you
buy the 920 for your birthday?? You can have it for $50 WITH the parts
motor" " Nah, too busy, besides studying for networking tests takes all
my spare time." Well , after a few days of thinking, " Dang, if I get
this testing over, I can start another project! What better motivation!"
Soooo I says Ok, BUT not until the test are passed, otherwise, you know
I'll do the bike instead.
OK testing is over and that day I got the bike. So now I'm the proud (?)
owner (?) of a 1982 920 virago with 9 thousand miles on it. HOWEVER you
remember the $50 and the parts motor? Weelllll it seems the previous
(original, who took very good care of bike) owner's brother took the
bike over and thought it would be fun to ride like a maniac. So he ends
up crashing in a ditch, hitting a concrete culvert on the way. Say good
bye to every light, mirror, lever, etc., AND 3 holes in the motor. Ouch!
Story goes, the guy WALKS away. Some people have all the luck even when
they do really stupid things.
Then D gets the bike, and I from him. Luckily the holes are on the left
side of the crank case and left cover so all the numbers still match.
Although that's the part you start with when building one of these
motors, EVERYTHING mounts into it. Ok cool, I got a bike with 3 holes in
the motor. Well I won't sink money into something that doesn't run , so
I clean the metal, grass and stone from the crankcase and patch it with
aluminum siding (aluminum just doesn't get the credit it deserves) and
silicone :) . Put oil in , crank it from here to eternity to get the 3
year old gas out of the system and voila I have a bike running(?) on one
cylinder! Cool, I got a 460 virago! Well I needed to do something so I
removed the the rubber thingy between the air box/frame and the carb and
plug the carb with my hand and start it up on the one cylinder and suck
all the nasty old what used to be gas through the nasty passages of the
carb. It spits and sputters and stinks when that crap finally starts to
burn. OK, now down the road I go. OOOOOooo. Call D "Hey, D, Guess
what???". D is over in less time than the miles from his house to mine.
Of COURSE he wants to ride! He comes back all excited "The spedo only
goes to 85 but I HAD to be in the triple digits!" Ok I guess, but not
for me!
Now that it runs, I'm going to put it in my name. Remember I said
"owner(?)"? Oops there's a lien on it. Call the bank with the lien. So I
explain how I'm going to rebuild the wreck, but not with a lien, So she
says "please hold". A thousand and twenty ( I counted them) things go
through your head while you're waiting. (DANG I'll NEVER finish this
story- My daughter INSISTS I'm terrible with spelling and punctuation,
AND I MUST fix them, NOW!!) So where was I?? Oh yeah the thoughts,
things like they're tracing this call and sending police to get me,
either to take me to jail or make me pay off the lien. " I need to talk
to my Supervisor, please hold." SHOOT now they're calling the FBI!
Should I start running now? "OK, Mr ---, we can send you a lien release"
I SWEAR I heard angels sing. I get the release in the mail and march to
the DMV. Well we all know how they can be. "How can I help you?" "I'd
like to put this title in my name." "OK, let's see, hmmm, yes, ok, hmmmm.
Would you please have a seat over there?" Oh no, they think I stole it
and now THEY are calling the cops on me. She calls her supervisor,
points at the paper work, points at the computer screen, points at me,
gives the supervisor a funny look, the supervisor looks at the paper
work, looks at the computer, looks at me then they go into his office,
GREAT now THEY'RE calling the FBI. She comes back out, calls me over,
asks a stupid question and asks me to take another seat. It's got to be
a ploy to hold me there until the officials get there. I watch the door
for signs. Nothing unusual, I mean besides the unusual people you see at
the DMV.
She calls me up and wants money, a pay off maybe? oh no it's legit! And
now I'm really the proud owner of a wrecked 18 year old motorcycle! WOW!
Now the fun begins.
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