bob_m
Active member
SFDoc showed up at my house promptly at 10:00. I showed him the yard and my garage and it was time to go. Doc got on his bike, and I was swinging a leg over mine, and my knee buckled and the bike fell over in my driveway. For those of you who don't know, 2 years ago I completed a frame up restoration. Great, we get the bike up and I have a serious skuff on the fairing, and a hyperextended knee (and of course new dimples in the valve cover)
I kind of walk around and decide that I don't need my knee to ride (expecting everything to go perfectly) so, very carefully, I get back on the bike, and we are off. I-5 to 199 and at Cave Junction we take the Happy Camp road to 96. We roll west on 96 to the Scott Valley road and meet up with Sector. Well it is getting on toward dusk and I get a rear flat. SFDoc gets out his little electric pump and we air up, cause we can only be a couple of miles from the camp site. Air up again. The third time I put in Fix-A-Flat w/ air (Big mistake). Air up a 4 th time and make it to the camp at dark.
The camp ground was wired with a phone so we called Red Beemer, who would be arriving the next day, and requested he bring a tube. The 3 of us cobbed together some food and bagged it early.
Next day I found some plywood to prop up the bike, at a concrete sidewalk, cause the ride off stand does not allow enough clearance to drop the tire below the fender. I get the tire off and we use the side stand on SFDoc's GS to break the bead on the tire. It was easier than anyone could possible imagine.
We get the tube out and find that the tire had picked up what looked like one leg of a roofing staple. Serious impailer. The tube was punctured, but the cause of the flat was obvious. I clean the tire, tube and wheel, and patched the tube. I tested it for bubbles in the river, none, and put the tire back together and the wheel back on the bike. I just finish up when Red Beemer shows up with the tube.
We greet and let him get the lay of the campsite, then I check the tire pressure again and it is just where I left it. Tire Fixed.
Off we go for a day ride. The Siskyous are spectacular. Big mountains, deserted roads. SFDoc has pictures that I am sure will follow soon. I was leading for a brief spell, and I felt a wobble in 25 MPH corners. I pull over in the parking lot of a dive bar/resturant/store/post office in the remote hamlet of Callahan. Flat rear tire. Doc ask me if I brought the tube. I regretfully had to reply NO ("F__K ME" I thought) It turns out that the Fix-A-Flat disolved the patch glue and the patch failed.
Doc runs back to fetch the tube, about a 2 hour ride, Sector goes off sightseeing and Red Beemer stays with me in Callahan. I rolled the bike into a shady spot in a field across the street from the general store. There is considerable evidence that horses use this field. 3 hours later Sector returns. She does not like to ride at night, so she booked back to the campsite. About 1 1/2 hours later Red Beemer & I are starting to get concerned about Doc. I start asking patrons of the local enterprise if they might consider throwing a motorcycle in their truck. They would consider it they say, then the calvery arrives. I was sure SFDoc would be madder than a wet hen because it was just stupid to not bring the tube, but he was busting a grin from ear to ear. The rotors of his front brakes were frying pan hot, and he had been frolicking on these remote backroads while running the errand.
We put the tube in and tire on just as dusk was falling. We hooked up the little pump and the seal in the little piston was blown. We got the tire up to about 30 PSI, but the beads were not set. Just then some scrawney long hair, scraggley beard, local, stops to ask about our problem. He volunteers that he is an Indian Mechanic of some renownd. "The real ones, not the Harley things". He went back to his shop and returned with a canister of compressed air. I shot 80 PSI into the tire and the bead POPPED into place. We were off. We did not see the black cows that had been in the road in the afternoon as we coursed the mountain roads at night.
At the campground Burnzilla, Dick, Darren, Sector were there waiting for us around a crackling fire. We had beer and take out burgers waiting for us and it was great.
No one puked.
Rode home today and the bike and I have made up.
I thank everyone who bailed me out of what whould have been Deep Sh_t. It was not the most fun I have had on a camping weekend, but it is wonderfully reasuring to know what a great bunch of folks we share the interweb with. I have some serious Karma pay backs to deliver.
I kind of walk around and decide that I don't need my knee to ride (expecting everything to go perfectly) so, very carefully, I get back on the bike, and we are off. I-5 to 199 and at Cave Junction we take the Happy Camp road to 96. We roll west on 96 to the Scott Valley road and meet up with Sector. Well it is getting on toward dusk and I get a rear flat. SFDoc gets out his little electric pump and we air up, cause we can only be a couple of miles from the camp site. Air up again. The third time I put in Fix-A-Flat w/ air (Big mistake). Air up a 4 th time and make it to the camp at dark.
The camp ground was wired with a phone so we called Red Beemer, who would be arriving the next day, and requested he bring a tube. The 3 of us cobbed together some food and bagged it early.
Next day I found some plywood to prop up the bike, at a concrete sidewalk, cause the ride off stand does not allow enough clearance to drop the tire below the fender. I get the tire off and we use the side stand on SFDoc's GS to break the bead on the tire. It was easier than anyone could possible imagine.
We get the tube out and find that the tire had picked up what looked like one leg of a roofing staple. Serious impailer. The tube was punctured, but the cause of the flat was obvious. I clean the tire, tube and wheel, and patched the tube. I tested it for bubbles in the river, none, and put the tire back together and the wheel back on the bike. I just finish up when Red Beemer shows up with the tube.
We greet and let him get the lay of the campsite, then I check the tire pressure again and it is just where I left it. Tire Fixed.
Off we go for a day ride. The Siskyous are spectacular. Big mountains, deserted roads. SFDoc has pictures that I am sure will follow soon. I was leading for a brief spell, and I felt a wobble in 25 MPH corners. I pull over in the parking lot of a dive bar/resturant/store/post office in the remote hamlet of Callahan. Flat rear tire. Doc ask me if I brought the tube. I regretfully had to reply NO ("F__K ME" I thought) It turns out that the Fix-A-Flat disolved the patch glue and the patch failed.
Doc runs back to fetch the tube, about a 2 hour ride, Sector goes off sightseeing and Red Beemer stays with me in Callahan. I rolled the bike into a shady spot in a field across the street from the general store. There is considerable evidence that horses use this field. 3 hours later Sector returns. She does not like to ride at night, so she booked back to the campsite. About 1 1/2 hours later Red Beemer & I are starting to get concerned about Doc. I start asking patrons of the local enterprise if they might consider throwing a motorcycle in their truck. They would consider it they say, then the calvery arrives. I was sure SFDoc would be madder than a wet hen because it was just stupid to not bring the tube, but he was busting a grin from ear to ear. The rotors of his front brakes were frying pan hot, and he had been frolicking on these remote backroads while running the errand.
We put the tube in and tire on just as dusk was falling. We hooked up the little pump and the seal in the little piston was blown. We got the tire up to about 30 PSI, but the beads were not set. Just then some scrawney long hair, scraggley beard, local, stops to ask about our problem. He volunteers that he is an Indian Mechanic of some renownd. "The real ones, not the Harley things". He went back to his shop and returned with a canister of compressed air. I shot 80 PSI into the tire and the bead POPPED into place. We were off. We did not see the black cows that had been in the road in the afternoon as we coursed the mountain roads at night.
At the campground Burnzilla, Dick, Darren, Sector were there waiting for us around a crackling fire. We had beer and take out burgers waiting for us and it was great.
No one puked.
Rode home today and the bike and I have made up.
I thank everyone who bailed me out of what whould have been Deep Sh_t. It was not the most fun I have had on a camping weekend, but it is wonderfully reasuring to know what a great bunch of folks we share the interweb with. I have some serious Karma pay backs to deliver.
