Spa Day for My Motorcycle a.k.a. My Bike
OK, so I don’t really call my motorcycle Bessie. I’ve never been the type to name my motorcycles. But naming your bike is pretty common. Hayabusa owners regularly say things like, “I’m jumpin’ on the Busa and goin’ for a spin.” And BMW owners are known to say things like, “I’m taking the Bimmer over to Tim’s,” a popular donut joint. For some riders it’s more personal: “I’m taking Blackie up to the lake,” or “Big Bertha needs her oil changed.”
I have a friend who calls his bike Blue. And does he ride a blue bike? Nope. Red. Don’t ask. Me, I say, “My motorcycle,” a.k.a. “My bike.” But whether you name your bike or not, what is pretty common among riders is that they have an affection for their machine. Not in a precious way. Just a quiet appreciation for something that has carried them, reliably and without complaint, over a thousand bridges, through hundreds of cities and towns, and around countless curves.
I have that same affection when I traipse downstairs to the underground garage to give my bike its mid-winter spa day.
Underground parking lot dust has an incessant ability to get up, around, and into everything. It finds every nook and settles quietly, patiently, deeply, everywhere. So mid-winter, when riding is still months away, I go downstairs with my buckets of water, rags, and supplies to give my bike a bath.
I get out the specialty motorcycle soap and spray it everywhere: above the rear tire, around the engine, underneath, finding all the little crannies that seem to attract grime simply by existing. I do my best not to miss an inch. I let it sit for a few minutes so it can do its thing, and then I bring out my low-intensity, battery-powered spray washer and rinse everything clean—first the bike, then the ground underneath and around it. I love how clean it gets everything without demanding elbow grease or punishment. What can I say? If there’s an easier way to do something, I’ll happily take it.
Once the washing is done, I let the bike sit and drip dry. I don’t rush this part. There’s no clock running. No place I need to be. It just sits there, clean and quiet, looking like it’s waiting for something better than winter.
Next, one screw at a time, I carefully remove the windshield, noting that each screw is a different length. I’ll need to make sure they get back into their proper holes when I put everything back together. This has been an issue before, and catching it this time is very satisfying. Especially since I never make the same mistake twice, I usually make it three or four times just to be sure. This must have been the fifth. I’m all smiles.
With the windshield off, I get to work with black-plastic restorer on the dash and the plastics under and around it, and then continue around the rest of the bike. The transformation is immediate. The blacks go from sun-faded grey back to a deep, proper black. The bike looks years younger in the space of a few minutes. Bloody magic.
A little work on the vinyl and leather seat brings it back to life, and a quick pass with fast and easy speed wax gives the painted surfaces a clean, honest shine—not a show-bike gloss, just the look of something that’s been cared for. At this point, the bike looks like it could roll straight onto a showroom floor, even though we both know it belongs out on the road where I’ll get it dirty all over again.
When everything is completely dry, sprayed with anti-corrosion oil, and covered once more, I lock the bike up and leave it until spring. There’s a calm that comes with that, knowing that when I’m ready to ride—after a few good rainstorms to clean away the road salt—the bike will be ready.
But it isn’t as simple as that. The mid-winter spa day is a way to connect with a sport I love, even when there is snow and ice outside and riding is still months away. It’s kinda a mid-winter mental health day—because I always feel great when I’m finished.
I hope to see you out on the road come spring. In the meantime, go give your Bessie a bath. You just might enjoy it like I did.
– John Lewis
John is a passionate moto-traveller and motorcycle enthusiast who enjoys sharing stories that inform, inspire, and entertain. Specialising in motorcycle touring, safety, travel, or just about anything motorcycle-related, John’s insights, travels, and experiences have been featured in national magazines such as Motorcycle Mojo and The Motorcycle Times, as well as on various blogs and websites. When he is not riding or writing, he works as the service manager at a boutique motorcycle shop where he’s always ready to share a story or helpful tip.