G
guitarin
Guest
On Thursday September 16, my friend Pascal and I took the Autotrain from Sanford, FL to Lorton, VA for a quick weekend ride through the mountains. He was on a new 1200 Moto Guzzi Griso and I was on my 2004 R1150RT. At Front Royal we jumped on the Skyline Drive. Three hours later, we had lunch in Waynesboro, then onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. Stopped for the night in Roanoke, enjoyed a steak dinner and a good nightÔÇÖs rest. At 6:00 a.m. we were up, packed and a continental breakfast later, hit the parkway. Hundreds of deer, not just a few, hundreds, just inside the tree-line! After 25 miles, the sun came up and my engine went away.
Tupperware came off the bike and troubleshooting indicated a failed fuel pump. I trekked over a hill to a horse ranch where, as luck would have it, they were preparing for a show. Did I mention that AT&T cell service in absolutely non-existent anywhere on the East coast of the U.S? The gracious horse-enthusiasts invited me in to use their telephone, and I quickly started calling all the listings in the Anonymous book. I reached Earl Smith, who offered to bring a trailer to my rescue. He had a friend, Dave Adams, who is an independent motorcycle mechanic in Roanoke.
I walked a quarter mile back to the bikes to tell Pascal that help was on the way. Little did I know that while I was away, someone in a truck, named Jason stopped, thinking I hit a deer because the tupperware was spread around the field. He told my buddy, Pasky, there was a BMW club rally about 25 miles down the road. Jason pulled out his trusty Verizon phone and called his friend Tim who was attending the rally at the Willville Motorcycle Campground. Tim borrowed a trailer and was on his way.
I walked a quarter mile back to the stables to borrow the phone and call off the rescue by Earl.
Once again, back at the bikes, Pascal was finishing the reassembly process. He reached over and hit the starter button and the darn thing started. Just then, Tim showed up with his truck and trailer. I suggested I follow him on the bike just to see what happened and off we went. Another 25 miles and like clockwork, the engine died. We loaded the RT on the trailer and completed the last 2 miles to Willville Motorcycle Campground (route 58 Virginia). Once there, Pascal and I called our wives (another borrowed Verizon phone) to prepare them for what could be a nightmare.
I contacted Carolina Euro and reached Wayne VanDenBroeke. After discussing various options, Wayne offered to drive up and take me and the broken RT back to his dealership. This was Saturday morning and the dealership closed at 2:00pm. Wayne told me he would start the 2 hour journey to my location around 2:30. Just before closing Wayne got a customer who wanted to purchase a new Ducati. He called me to apologize and told me there would be a delay. I told him not to lose a sale on my account. Besides, I was having a great time at the campground with 90 or so motorcycle enthusiasts.
Wayne arrived at 8:00 p.m. and it was now dark. With some extra headlights and help we loaded the bike on the truck. We got to the dealership around 11:30 p.m. and the work began. For the next two and a half hours we prepped a new R1200GSA, transferred my belongings from the RT, and completed all necessary paperwork. YES, I BOUGHT A NEW BIKE!!!
At 2:00 a.m. Wayne and Pascal went for a ride. Scuffed in the tires, checked the mirrors, FILLED THE GAS TANK, (darn near 9 gallons) and generally checked things out.
We parted company a little after 2:00 a.m. Got a couple hours sleep and carefully took the back roads 750 miles home.
What can I say? Wayne VanDenBroeke is the man! IÔÇÖm having trouble finding words to express myself. If anybody reads this and is near Greensboro, NC, take the opportunity to visit Carolina Euro and meet a true American hero of the road. Thanks again, Wayne.
Tupperware came off the bike and troubleshooting indicated a failed fuel pump. I trekked over a hill to a horse ranch where, as luck would have it, they were preparing for a show. Did I mention that AT&T cell service in absolutely non-existent anywhere on the East coast of the U.S? The gracious horse-enthusiasts invited me in to use their telephone, and I quickly started calling all the listings in the Anonymous book. I reached Earl Smith, who offered to bring a trailer to my rescue. He had a friend, Dave Adams, who is an independent motorcycle mechanic in Roanoke.
I walked a quarter mile back to the bikes to tell Pascal that help was on the way. Little did I know that while I was away, someone in a truck, named Jason stopped, thinking I hit a deer because the tupperware was spread around the field. He told my buddy, Pasky, there was a BMW club rally about 25 miles down the road. Jason pulled out his trusty Verizon phone and called his friend Tim who was attending the rally at the Willville Motorcycle Campground. Tim borrowed a trailer and was on his way.
I walked a quarter mile back to the stables to borrow the phone and call off the rescue by Earl.
Once again, back at the bikes, Pascal was finishing the reassembly process. He reached over and hit the starter button and the darn thing started. Just then, Tim showed up with his truck and trailer. I suggested I follow him on the bike just to see what happened and off we went. Another 25 miles and like clockwork, the engine died. We loaded the RT on the trailer and completed the last 2 miles to Willville Motorcycle Campground (route 58 Virginia). Once there, Pascal and I called our wives (another borrowed Verizon phone) to prepare them for what could be a nightmare.
I contacted Carolina Euro and reached Wayne VanDenBroeke. After discussing various options, Wayne offered to drive up and take me and the broken RT back to his dealership. This was Saturday morning and the dealership closed at 2:00pm. Wayne told me he would start the 2 hour journey to my location around 2:30. Just before closing Wayne got a customer who wanted to purchase a new Ducati. He called me to apologize and told me there would be a delay. I told him not to lose a sale on my account. Besides, I was having a great time at the campground with 90 or so motorcycle enthusiasts.
Wayne arrived at 8:00 p.m. and it was now dark. With some extra headlights and help we loaded the bike on the truck. We got to the dealership around 11:30 p.m. and the work began. For the next two and a half hours we prepped a new R1200GSA, transferred my belongings from the RT, and completed all necessary paperwork. YES, I BOUGHT A NEW BIKE!!!
At 2:00 a.m. Wayne and Pascal went for a ride. Scuffed in the tires, checked the mirrors, FILLED THE GAS TANK, (darn near 9 gallons) and generally checked things out.
We parted company a little after 2:00 a.m. Got a couple hours sleep and carefully took the back roads 750 miles home.
What can I say? Wayne VanDenBroeke is the man! IÔÇÖm having trouble finding words to express myself. If anybody reads this and is near Greensboro, NC, take the opportunity to visit Carolina Euro and meet a true American hero of the road. Thanks again, Wayne.
cool story
