A Fool's Progress - The Doldrums

We have all seen it in the movies; sailors becalmed in the sea. The sea flat mirror. The air still. Sailors draped over the rail of the ship, half dead from boredom and stifling heat.

So....how did day 2 go?

Well let's just say that yesterday was a much higher point in the trip.

I got up at the crack of dawn and fired up the bike. Lots of black smoke from the left exhaust, which was to be expected. But it settled down pretty quickly.

My one lucky break was having an Autozone and a shucks within a block of the hotel. I hit them both only to find that they dont open until 8, an hour away. I wanted to top up the tranny in case the level had dropped which might explain some odd shifting.

So with an hour to kill, the GPS pointed me at the local Starbucks where I could java-up and use the t-mobile hotspot that I had a freebie account for.

Apparently I am hot in Idaho. Or the women here are extraordinarily friendly because I have had more women flirt with me in the last 2 days than I have had in the last year. Hot in Idaho. Pimpin' in Coer D' Alene. Sandpoint Playa. That'd be me.

After a pleasant moment with the gal at the counter of Starbucks, I took my big cup of black drip coffee to the parking lot to check my email. I dont know why the hell Starbucks cannot make a cup of drip coffee. It is always burnt tasting. Then I found I could get email but not send it. 20 minutes on the phone with Tmobile support to find out that I cant send authentication to the SMTP. Basically I had to not send the password. eh?

I finally managed to send off the blog post I had written last night. I think. I couldnt check on it and it was past 8. time to get the oil and do a test run. If the plugs behaved, I was on my way for the rest of the trip. Minor setback. No worries.

And so with a tentative smile on my face I headed out across thearking lot.

Then the bike popped out of gear. Then it wouldnt go into gear at all. Oh shit. Begging and pleading I worked the shifter, clutch and throttle. Finally I got it to go into second. By the time I got the first block it was shifting normally again. But a cold sweat had broken out on the back of my neck.

I grabbed oil at shuck's and went back to the hotel. I examined the shifter linkage and discovered it was bottoming on the frame. Screw it. Fortunately I had brought the original items with me including an upreated pin for the upper clevis. The ball joint rig was nice, but not worth continuing to mess with.

Now I confronted something I had forgotten to do. I had not drilled out the necessary holes to take the larger pin. Shit. I shuffled down to shucks again. The heat was already growing. I felt it on my head. Neither shucks nor autozone had a way to drill the one hole I needed drilled. In fact, finding anyone to drill a simple hole was impossible within walking distance. I had visions of 50 buck cab rides to find someone with a drill. Or standing on a corner with a sign "ten bucks to drill a hole" but that might get me picked up for soliciting or something. At autozone I found a solution. One I didnt like, but works. They had a special on a cordless drill for 20 bucks. So I bought the drill and a 5/16 bit. My first souvenir. A Great Neck 18v cordless drill. Probably 40 bucks by the time I paid to ship it home. Yes I still had hope at that point.

Back at the bike I plugged in the drill to charge. While that happened, I did the oil top up.

Now mind you..all this schlepping meant me having to leave the bike. And often I had to go back to the room - set up the drill charger. Get a tool not part of the bmw kit I carry. Get the clevis pin parts...etc etc. So every couple minutes I was tramping through the lobby, filthy and sweaty. One of the features of this notell motel is the free breakfast. And the lobby is not much bigger than the cheapest rooms. And the place was full up ther night before. So every couple minutes my sweaty, grouchy, desperate and filthy self was elbowing my way through crowds of people balancing platers of waffles.

So..oil. I pulled the level indicator plug and squeezed in some gear oil. The stuff that came out very quickly (indicating a full level or nearly so) But more worrisome was the really fine brass particulate suspended in the oil. Break in? Or broken?

I had also left a message with Guzzi-Guru Greg Field. He called me back about then. The first thing out of his mouth was "Well a prudent man would head home and get his Quota for the rest of the trip" Wise. But not what I wanted to hear. We discussed a few plans and ideas. I decided to do part of what he suggested; drain the box. flush it with new oil. Run it a ways. Drain it again. See if any new swarf is showing. I decided that I wouold make the run toward Spokane. Then I would be in a good place to arrange rescue if the news was bad.

A sweaty and weary couple houors later I had buttoned the bike up and dragged all my gear to the bike. I made check out by 2 minutes.

Over at shucks I bought an oil pan and more oil. I started the box draining. As it drained I heard a plop plop. I let it completely empty for about 10 minutes and then swirled the pan like a gold panner. There it was. The harbinger of doom. The ride for the old Ambassador is over. Two small chunks of what is obviously bearing cage. No mas. I didnt even dare try to make Spokane. Terminal gearbox failure at 70 mph is not to be trifled with. And being stranded midway was a bad idea. At least for now it would get up and down the street.

So I spent the next 2 hours in the hot shucks parking lot, burning up the cell trying to find a way to get it home.

Surprisingly, I stayed calm and in good humor. Usually I would get really testy; particularly with folks who wander up and ask if something is wrong with the Bike. "No, I planned for months to take a road trip to this particular shucks. And now I am here! Pinch me." Nah I stayed friendly. And one lady came by to offer the garage to store the bike while I rented a car to get home. She had heard from her husband about me and came by. Now that is cool.

I called up both my insurance company where I had roadside service and the Allstate Roadside Service Plan (platinum!) which was purchased just for this sort of event. My conclusion? waste of money. Dont bother. Better to just take a hundred dollar bill and stuff it in a sock somewhere. I wanted to rent a truck. No dice...but they would tow it to the nearest service center. Um, that'd be Moto International in seattle. I think the truck would be cheaper...no? No. Yes I know Beaudry motorsports is a guzzi dealer...but I aint letting them touch any bike I own or even like.

But they do have "Trip Interruption" coverage which will pay for the hotel room. And by god they will. If my plan works out, they will be paying for the room when I get back this way tomorrow night because they cover 72 hours.

So I abandoned those jerks and started hunting up a truck. U-haul? No bikes in our trucks. How about a trailer. No. Right. Her's a nice finger telling you that you are number one in my book pal. Budget...local office closed for Sunday.
But the national office was able to reserve me a 10 footer at noon tomorrow. The better news is that the software limited them to noon. The shop opens at 7. If I am on the stoop at 7 sharp I might be able to wrangle an earlier truck. . So if everything goes to plan and the truck manages 65mph I can be back in Seattle early afternoon. Then I can be on the Quota long before dark and be back at this very motel late in the evening.

Other observations:
Dont pass up a bar with a name like "The Mousetrap" I spent a pleasant couple hours in such a place during the high heat of the day waiting for my room to be readied. The beer was cold and the other members were stellar.

Dont eat at a Perkins restaurant. I didnt think it was possible to make a burger and fries taste bland, but they managed somehow.

Do take care of the people who take care of you. When I checked out earlier, I managed to get a bunch of greasy fingerprints on the sink that I couldnt get rid of. So I left a note and a 5 buck tip by way of apology. When I came back and I was getting a new room, she nudged the manager and got me into a much nicer room for the same rate. This is a habit that has stood me in good stead for many years.

Motel designers must be midgets. Once again the shower does a stellar job of directing water no higher than my belly.

Here is to tomorrow going better than today. I'm off for beers.

Oh and I still have the drill