An automotive project is often nothing more than globs of grease, streaks of oil, and sharp edges of oxidizing metal that can be interpreted in many different ways. The colors and materials blend together, leaving us to see what we want to see. We can compare notes with others and attempt to draw conclusions about ourselves or the project, but ultimately, everyone sees something different in a rusting hulk of a car or motorcycle. It somehow transforms into some degreaser-soaked version of the Rorschach ink blots, but not in the way you think.
In a recent bout of wheeling and dealing with a close friend, I exchanged a freshly rebuilt Honda XR250R engine for a cache of late-’80s Honda XR200 parts, which I then packed into a rented minivan before turning for home.
What I snagged was a pair of late-1980s Honda XR200 motorcycles. A 1986 model that runs, and a 1989 that appears solid, though the previous owner hasn’t heard it run in a few years. Additionally, there were two bins worth of other parts, a spare engine, and whatever else was nearby in his shed that appeared XR-related. It’s a part stash I didn’t need, but couldn’t resist.
The hours of dreary I-90 travel gave me the space to really think about what I was hauling home, and why the three friends standing in the driveway all had a different take on what exactly the bikes and bins were. Those weren’t motorcycles; they were inkblots, open for interpretation. At least that’s what I was going to tell the rental agent, were some oil to sneak under the tarp into the rental van’s carpet.
Many people misunderstand Swiss psychiatrist Hermann Rorschach’s famous test. Despite passing away having never seen a Ford Model A, his abstract art and testing method have made an interesting impact. His first papers on a psychiatric evaluation using inkblots were published in 1921, based on a series of 10 inkblots given to a subject who would then be asked to describe what their brain sees in the symmetrical splits of color. There is no time limit. The subject is totally unguided. The administrator of the test takes notes on what the subject sees and scores the responses based on various scales. It is not a test that renders tidy results. But it does allow an interesting insight into the subject’s brain.
A project bike is no different. Both of the XRs I hauled home on a tarp inside a minivan are slightly more desirable long-travel suspension models. These have rebuildable, and much more tunable forks and shocks. They fit into multiple vintage race classes across just about any organization. The durable, air-cooled, 200cc, four-stroke engine makes for a fun, simple trail bike and playful vintage racer.
Despite enjoying a rise in popularity over the last five years, a pair of complete XR200s is not incredibly valuable, but it definitely put a dent in the value of the freshly rebuilt XR250R engine I dropped off in exchange.
Standing in the driveway during a humid June afternoon, I expressed my excitement about taking home two complete parts bikes. “Parts bikes? This one is basically trail ready!” quipped my friend as he swung his leg over one of the XRs and cycled the kick starter a few times, gently bringing the piston to top dead center then allowing the lever to reset before kicking with force. It’s an important little dance that keeps the relatively fragile kickstart shaft gears from chipping teeth. After a few cycles, the little thumper sputtered to a smooth idle. Even with a louder aftermarket exhaust, you could nearly hear the rusty chain creak as it puttered up and down the driveway.
It’s that interaction which creates the second half of Rorschach’s original test: After the subject had gone through and described what they saw in the inkblots, the administrator would start with blot number one, reading back what the subject described. They’d then ask the subject to describe what about the blot caused the subject to say what her or she did.
Trail ready … Where did you see that here?
With a small amount of fettling, the bike could surely survive a trip to the single-track trailhead. Would it do particularly well? Probably not, but it could do it. Disagreement over a technicality such as this will not kill a deal for me. More so, none of this is really about what you see in them. Rorschach himself would agree that the standardized blots are no better than clouds in the sky when looking to conduct a test like his. It’s not about what you’re looking at; it’s about seeing beyond exactly what is in front of you and how your brain does that.
Asking “what is this?” when looking at a rusty hulk of a motorcycle is not some deep-reaching mental test, even if I try to make it one, but the answer you give will still say something about how you arrived at what you do see. Rorschach’s test calls upon your previous knowledge and experience to see something that doesn’t exist inside of something that does. Staring into the inkblots that are these XR200s, I see hours and hours in the garage replacing worn bearings and seals, and eventually a light, playful trail bike that fits nicely into my burgeoning “collection.”
These bikes are two worn-out piles of parts, but my view of them is shaped by the things I seek out and enjoy. I see past the missing bolts and bent up brackets to become blinded by the potential of the before and after; a tidy rescue of a broken thing. My friend sees (and hears) past the rusty chain and sticky brakes to the enjoyment of a functioning motorcycle. Days on the trails together, then laughing and telling stories while packing up.
Well, that’s what he saw. Both bikes are in my garage now and won’t look the same by the next time he sees them. Then it will be a totally different blob of ink to read.
Let’s be fair here, for some people, a rough-around-the-edges-mutt-of-a-motorcycle is just what they want/need.
Such obscenity I never expected that here in a photo.