Clearance on the Sprocket

I rolled back across the front threshold as night settled, parking the motorcycle on the dry floorboards beside the boot tray. Today's run over that broken terra-cotta shard left a gritty orange dust caked around the rear hub. Before turning in, I propped the rear swingarm onto a discarded plastic bottle cap to keep the knobby tire spinning free. Taking an unbent wire paperclip from the console dish, I ran the straight edge deliberately between each sprocket tooth. A hard flake of fired clay popped loose onto the wood. Spun the tire once by hand. Clean whir. Chain tension checked out solid. Stowed and ready.