Subject: aborted trip
Author: Zerhackermann .
Date: Aug 23, 2001, 1:38 PM
Post ID: 1707977117
Well I have had better vacations.
It started out good. Sunny and warm. Of course I didn't get free of the
surly bonds of family until late in the afternoon. No big deal.
I headed out up Highway 9 to catch Highway 20 AKA The North Cascades
Highway. Never been that way and I figured it was time. Beautiful road. Lots
of fresh pavement. Nothing too technical twisty wise. And I rode smugly by
bikes going the OTHER way as I headed out for a solid week of saddle abuse.
But Little was I to know that there was going to be a slow build of small
problems ending with one final disaster.
The first problem came at the first gas stop just shy of the first pass. A
dude noticed my head light wwas out. So I checked and it's a fuse. So I
change it and it blows on highbeam again. SO I swap it and it works fine on
low But I have fog and driving lights so high beam is kinda moot. shrug.
The rest of the day and on into the night was lovely driving. warm sun, a
hoagy in the saddlebag, a couple ice cold rainiers and I headed out of
Winthrop and up to Loup Loup Pass. I got to Loup Loup and stopped at a camp
ground that had a total of 5 spots, just as it got to real dark. I pitched
the tent and shared my flask with a couple other riders in the CG. They
dropped off and I kicked back to enjoy my beer and watch the stars come out.
I woke early. It was fuggin cold in that pass. SO by 6AM I was up and
hopping around to warm up. I had the bike packed and warming up in 30
minutes. The bike was a bit grumpy about starting ( shit, I don't blame it)
and I noticed that the tail light was out. %$#@! now what?. Not the
bulb..fuse..again. swap that one and off I go.
I come down out of the pass and stop in Omak for breakfast. On the way I saw
a historical marker for the "Sheep Slaughter" from when in the 1900s a bunch
of ranchers clubbed a huge flock of sheep to death. The marker notes that
ranchers and shepherds get along much better now and the sheep and cows
never had a problem in the first place.
When in Omak do NOT ask the waitress how they feel about PETA.
Throughout the trip until I got to Spokane, everywhere was tinged with
woodsmoke. The sky was dusky and the air smelled like a campfire.
Leaving Omak I headed up into another pass 5000 feet or so. Everything as
fine until I saw a bunch of deer. Come around a corner and there is one
little deer in the road. KNowing they tend to flock, I dropped anchor. Sure
enoough, several more came bounding out of the woods. I did a quick bit of
evasive maneuvering and things came out okay. I stopped to yell at them that
it was a good thing I thought I might get re-routed to canada and didn't
bring any firearms. I also pitched a couple rocks at them. Trhoughout the
rest of the Okanagan range, anytime I saw green, I saw a deer.
I also discovered yellowjackets really like my bike for some reason. I
killed a few in Chuck's name.
the first time I conciously started to get a bad feeling about the trip was
at SHerman pass. I stopped to take a pic of the bike and the sign. Then I
got on the bike, saw a big rig on the way, so I gunned it and dumped the
clutch. unfortunately the ground is very sandy. spin--clump. the bike goes
down on the right side. Fortunately the ground was sandy and no real
damage...or so I thought. I picked up the bike and the brake flopped loose.
The perch had broken. gawd DAMN it.
SO I stuffed it into a crevice in the shield and rode down out of the 5000
ft pass with only a rear brake. lovely.
I got to Colvillle and inquired about a bike shop. One shop. closed on
mondays.
SO I hem and haw for a minute but the choice was already made. I have to go
to Spokane to get a part. that means 70 miles of the hottest section of
washington state. Did I mention it was hot? 90 degrees and everyone was
remarking how cool it was. and I was coming out of the relatively cool hills
and valleys. That 70 miles was gonna be hard on me and the bike.
SO I set off. Now I began to notice odd noises. First some pinging. SO I
removed my ear plugs to hear the motor better. yep pinging. so I pulled the
timing back a drgree or so. better. But now I could hear a valve like noise,
but with more of a high pitched ring to it, especially as I backed off the
throttle. as I worked my way to Spokane, I got more and more uneasy about
it, but I was too busy dealing with staying alive with only one brake.
I hit the outskirts of Spokane and stopped in a nice cool bar to get at a
phone book. I noticed that all the bars in eastern washington carry Rianier
on tap or at the very least in a can. Any region like that can't be all bad.
So the first Place I tried, I hit paydirt. MASH (motorcycle accessory
something something) east of spokane was open and had the part I needed. The
bad thing was that I would have to crossh through downtown spokane to get to
I-90, at rush hour's beginning (3:30) on a Monday, on an air cooled bike.
phuq. that took nearly and hour. the poor bike was complaining badly. But we
made the freeway. whew, get some speed and cool air...NOW.
I no sooner get to 4th gear when I hit construction. for the next 10 miles (
I think). Oh christ.
I get to MASH and the dude helps me out big time. offers tools, shade,
water. I took the shade and water, but I never scrimp on the tools I haul. I
tell him proudly "just about anything that goes wrong with the bike, I am
equipped to fix. Except of course a busted brake lever perch" that boast
would bite me on the ass big time later.
About 6PM or so, I head out of MASH toward Coer D' Alene. I figure me and
the bike are pretty cooled down by then, I'll find a campsite and take the
valve covers off in the AM and see whats up. I'm feeling pretty good for the
first 4 miles as the sound is gone. then as I returned after missing the
turnoff for the campground, I hear it again. phuq. I pull over in a litt out
of the way joint called the Sundown Tavern. I sit there for a few minutes
over a cold can of Rainier and I make a choice. The sound is taking away too
much enjoyment on this trip. My Guts tell me that there is a time bomb in
the case.
SO I have another can and call Mssr Feeler to let him know I will not be
coming to his place. I feel defeated. I feel like a total wuss.
I leave the sundowner as the sun sets and figure I can make Ellensberg (172
miles)
The bike seems to run much betteras the cool air hits it and in much better
spirits I stop for dinner. after dinner and gas I end up making Moses Lake
by about 12:30 and I am whipped. Another 70 miles to Eberg should be no
trouble, but I'm done. I been up since 6AM, ridden a pile of miles,
stressed, etc etc.
So I enquire of the locals where the cheap hotel is. The first points me to
motel 6. 50 bux. gotta be cheaper. I try agian. Lakeview Motel. As I pull up
there is a sign that says 27.95. Bingo. The place turned out to be
invaluable later. But in the meantime I was only wanting a warm place with a
hot shower. the room was clean and the shower was hot. no frills. but that's
fine.
I sleep like a rock until 9AM. Eagerly I toss my gear on the bike and climb
on. I figure I'll breakfast down the road somewhere. I drop off the key and
zip tang I am gone.
As I am riding down the road I can stil heare the noise. But like waking up
on a sunny morning after a night of nightmares, I was kind of laughing at
myself. I was thinking, oh it will turn out to be a loose cover of
something. A looose bolt somewhere. I'm such a wuss....
the motor stopped.
No noise, no warning, no nothing. It was like the motor was running flat out
and someone closed the door on a soundproof room. Like someone dropped a
guillotine on a screaming aristocrat.
The motor locked solid. My instincts saved my ass because as soon as it
stopped, I was pulling in the clutch.
I stopedat the side of the road in the most desolate section of I-90 there
is.
The tranny was fine. The u-joint was fine. The motor was solid. Like one
lump of solid metal. No outward signs of failure. No oil splatters, nothing.
SO I heaved a heavy sigh and started walking back down the freeway. I
eventually found a hole in the barbed wire fence and got over to the slip
road. About 3/4 of a mile down the road a fella picked me up and gave me a
ride back to moses lake and to a tow truck. Got the bike hauled back to the
motel.
The lady there didn't even bat an eye, she just handed me back the key and
let me back into the room to use the phone.
I ended up staying there until 6PM waiting for a ride. AND I asked if I
could leave the bike. She offered her garage space and refuse to discuss
fee. think a motel 6 would do that?
A person's friends speak for them. My best friend Bobby, left work an hour
early, drove 200 miles in a rainstorm, after only having had a couple hours
of sleep the night before just to come rescue my ass. All for the price of a
meal, a tank of gas and the remainders of my flask of scotch.
That shit counts.
Now I think I'll go ride the VTR (that's Vee TEE Arr, Greg)
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