Catch me if you can
firstname.lastname@example.org Miles 2237 MPG 45.5
At first I thought it was a Blackbird arcing into my field of vision as the Paso’s booming Hawk cans invoked their usual morning routine of expunging all animals with the capacity to flee from the hedgerows along my commute. But no, it was the Paso’s one black ear – the righthand mirror/indicator assembly – making a desperate bid for freedom. Inspired by a combination of wind pressure and the suspension-crashing pothole I’d just failed to negotiate, the unit had pinged free of its triple lug mounts, and was now coming up to thump me in the chest like a phantom lone boxing glove.
My right hand instantaneously released the throttle, and made a seemingly unrepeatable perfect catch as my right foot tried to offer some braking effort, and I headed for the kerb. The indicator’s bullet connectors, not the wiring itself, had been the point of separation, and under a minute later everything was reconnected and I was on my way again.
Repeat performances started to become regular and replacements almost impossible to source, and costing £150 for a good one, I thought I should try and tip the odds back towards me a little. With the mirror popped off I nipped the spring clips as tight as I could, and cleaned the channels on the lug plate to ensure the best snugness of fit possible. Then I reattached the connectors, and added a decent swathe of insulation tape to hopefully bind the sections together well enough to turn the mirror into a dangling monocle for the next time.
Other Paso quirks this week include the badgered ignition barrel now only accepting the key one way round, and I also discovered that I’d left my sidestand puck somewhere on my various travels, leaving me on a quest for solid ground to resist the Paso’s spear-like sidestand. I’ve never worked out why its foot is missing, but if you’ve seen it, pop it in the post for me.