August 18th, 2018.
Day 1
WHO SAYS ANGELS DON’T EXIST? I BEG TO DIFFER.
I was up at 5:24 a.m., ahead of my 5:30 a.m. alarm set time, having had only about 4 hrs. of sleep - better than none.
Actually I was woken up by the sound of heavy rainfall.
I started my remaining organization/packing, mainly of my photographic equipment.
All else was ready.
Breakfast consisted of a fried egg (without its yolk), some Lebanese bread, Fig Jam and a cup of coffee.
With the rain stopped and around 8:56 a.m. I rolled the bike out of the garage into the driveway.
As I suited up, a gentleman, walking his dog, crossed the road over towards me.
Introducing himself (he was new to our neighborhood) he asked if he could pray for me, having perceived that I was preparing to embark on a journey (hmm, did it show? 😎).
Being a man of faith myself, I did not refuse his offer.
He said a prayer of thanks for the new friendship and a another for a hand and cloak of guidance and protection for me on my journey.
After thanking him profusely and making small talk for a couple of minutes, I saddled up in the now-bright morning sunshine at a temperature of 77’F (25’C). With 56,073 mi showing on my odometer, I set off heading for the Pacific ocean/coast.
So as with the first day of each and every tour, the plan was to lay down as many miles away from home as I could.
It promised to be a hot day but I was prepared.
I quickly ran through my mind as a final check to make sure that I had not forgotten to pack anything of importance for this trip.
All good.
Joining the highway via the on-ramp at exit 156, I couldn’t help but notice that the traffic was relatively heavy. A lot of people were on the move going about their own business.
I settled in with the convoy of cars all running at speed limit +5.
With the morning sun still behind me, there was no doubt that I was heading due west.
For the distance I expected to cover on this trip and the time I had allowed myself, “The Trip” (for me) was to start in St. Louis, MO at the Gateway Arch.
Having already been to and experienced the eastern terminus of Rt. 66 in Chicago, I opted to leave out the section between there and St. Louis. Besides, the many Rt. 66 attractions along that section would be so time-consuming to visit. I planned to make that another trip in itself - another good excuse for a future ride!
I settled in for the dreariness of the highway. The miles started to go by nicely till I arrived at the outskirts of Columbus, OH and forced us all to slow down. Winding right through the center of the city it gave me a chance for my eyes to stray a bit and take in the sights.
At the outer edge of the city limits, a couple of lanes had been closed for some ongoing construction work. Suddenly we were all corralled into 2 lanes of traffic between all the construction equipment and what materials were staged on-site.
Nicely though, this section was only about a quarter of a mile or less.
The pace picked up again and in no time we were all back to highway speed limit +5. The line of vehicles had stacked up as a result of the slow down and I made a decision to get ahead and put some distance between them and myself.
Picking up the pace I went by a few vehicles and maintained my place in what was now one of the two middle lanes.
Just as I approached an underpass I felt it!
The attitude of the bike immediately changed. The rear felt rough. Seemed like or felt like I was riding on a flat tire.
I could not look back or down at it at this speed, but it surely felt like I had a flat.
But I had not felt the sway/swag of a softening tire. One minute I was normal and the next I was not. It surely felt like my tire was flat, no doubt about it!
I could not change lanes for fear of “losing it” from my now-affected steering and detrimentally interfering with the traffic rapidly approaching me from behind.
All I could do was slow down by gingerly applying my brakes and try to stay upright.
Lord forbid, if I were to go down vehicles behind me would surely run over me.
I began to smell burning rubber! There was no doubt now that I was riding on a completely flat tire. Oh no, my brand new tire.
My heart was pounding away, wanting desperately to jump out of my chest! My opportunity came when in a matter of seconds a “slug” of cars went by leaving me adequate space to now change lanes and get onto the shoulder of the road. I had now slowed down enough to do that safely.
It seemed like an eternity.
Phew!
So, no sweat I thought. I had my air compressor on board, had my tire repair kit with plugs, patches and adhesive, all the tools I needed to fix a flat.
I was cool!
Well I kicked out my side stand to proceed to get off and do what I had to do. It did not extend to its full extent!
Oh shucks! The loss of height due to the flat tire altered the geometry of the design mechanics.
“No sweat, I’ll use the center stand.
But with about 160 lbs (73 kg) of luggage on a 740 lb (336 kg) machine, plus uneven ground, I had to be extra careful about dismounting without tipping her over beyond her balance point.
Carefully and with all my strength, I dismounted whilst trying to keep her upright and balanced and tried to put her onto the center stand. I mustered every ounce of my strength, but to no avail!
No way!
I had to do this!
Otherwise what other option would I have?
I heaved again and again - no luck.
I just couldn’t do this!
Again, the flat rear tire and the altered geometry of the bike made it impossible for me to accomplish this.
Carefully I mounted the bike again and pondered my next move as my heart continued to pound away in my chest.
I had not exerted myself like this for a very long time.
I had not experienced this level of physical exertion since my medical/physical test for the new job back in 2013.
I sat astride the bike looking at the oncoming traffic and pondered my next move.
Hoping I could flag someone down to stop and help, I heard someone say to me : “You’ll never get that bike up on the stand by yourself, let me give you a hand”.
I turned my head and saw someone had pulled over on the shoulder ahead of me, had backed up and was walking towards me.
He was a big, burly chap with a smile on his face.
So with each of us on either side of the bike we got her up, with some effort, onto the center stand.
“No way I could’ve accomplished that by myself” I told him.
“Yup, he concurred”,
“You came by us on the highway and I saw what happened to you and knew there was no way you’d be able to manage this situation by yourself, so we decided to stop and offer help.
With that said, he knelt down and began checking the rear tire.
Immediately I could tell he knew what he was doing. I could tell he had some experience in doing this.
“At least now I can fix the flat and be back on the way. I have a compressor and repair kit”.
“I don’t think so”, he responded, “here, take a look”.
Kneeling down beside him it was obvious that I was not going anywhere! At least not on that tire!
There was a tear about the size of the fingernail on my pinky finger in the sidewall of the tire and a gouge in the aluminum wheel right at the same location!
So much for that tire! (I had only 170 mi (272 km) on it)!
“Don’t worry buddy, there’s a dealership a few miles up the road. We’ll put the bike on the truck and get you there”.
“Well, how are we going to get the bike into your truck. She’s waaaaay too heavy for you and I to lift her. This is no Ninja!” I said. And before I could continue, he dropped his tailgate as he told me he had his motorcycle ramp in the back!
“What tire size is it”? he asked,
“170/60 R 17” I responded.
“Hey Sweetheart”, he said to his girlfriend, apparently in the truck with him, “please call ahead and ask the guys at Ride 1 Powersports if they have a tire that size, pls.”.
Asking me to step aside whilst he took over operations and loaded the bike into his pickup and strapped it down securely, the dealership confirmed that they had only 1 tire of that size in stock.
It was obvious that this was not his first rodeo, doing this.
I was grateful.
I could not begin to thank him enough.
It was about a 20 min. ride in which our friendship began.
So to shorten this long story, they dropped me off at the dealership with a promise that we’d keep in touch and link up upon my return from the tour. (Which we did. On 07/27/2018 we met up for a great Aamish breakfast in Bellville, OH)
Another stroke of luck, the tire in stock for me happened to be my brand of choice!
3 hours later, they had me ready to roll out, after they found a 3-inch (7.7 cm) deck-screw inside the tire, having made 2 holes in the tread section of the tire, and gouged out the sidewall and took a chunk out of the rim.
I was horrified at how much damage this single object had caused to my brand new tire.
I think back to the string of events on this day and realize that they were nothing but answered prayers! Somebody up there pardoned me!
My prayer had been cashed in.
Angels were riding with and close to me!
So the journey resumed and I focussed on knocking as many miles as I could for the rest of the day. Although I had lost traveling time, I was safe and sound. It could have been a whole lot worse!
I rode all afternoon along the highway till sundown, where I found myself in the town of Greenup, Illinois and checked into a motel just off the highway, next door to a Dairy Queen “Grill and Chill” establishment.
I was hungry.
Stepping off the bike and in to the Front reception area, there was no doubt about the ownership of the Motel.
The smell of fresh curry wafted through the air and greeted me, forming a smile on my face and making my mouth water.
Chatting with the proprietor, he was amazed at my knowledge and familiarity of several of their foods and customs. (I have several friends across the country of this culture).
So working my way around the side of the motel, I located my room and pulled up right to the door and began my unloading chore.
It had been a long and harrowing day and I found myself re-living the events of the day.
It had been 13 hrs. on the road today with only 425 mi (680 km.) to show for it.
Tomorrow, I would have to try to make up for it. I would really have liked to have laid down 600+ miles (960 km.) for today.
I considered the shortfall my trade-off for safety.
By the time it was all said and done and showered, I walked next-door to a fast food joint and bought dinner.
9:00 p.m. found me ready for bed after making my necessary phone calls.
After watching a couple of episodes of Forensic Files with the resulting apprehension of the bad guys, it was “lights out” for me.