It's a beautiful, but cold (48o), Saturday morning. The wife is gone for the day.
I am sitting here lamenting the apparent loss of my good friend, Mr. Sprag Clutch. He seems to have expired yesterday after a couple of weeks of illness after the engine quit and kicked back at a stop light and gave a nasty case of the Scrunchies to Mr. Sprag. After a couple of weeks and clanks and clatters, he would appear to have grabbed his last crankshaft.
Alas, we sit sadly at his home with all the spares donors gone for the weekend!
Oh, well, I can finish up the work I was doing on the bike, if it would warm up a bit!
Bare