More rain. Steady and cold. Hit snooze too many times and I'm running late getting things together. Jarvis still needs a looking over before we hit the road and I need to eat.
Everything was packed the night before so that's taken care of and just needs to be hooked up to the bike. Maintenance is done and I still have to eat, check out, and get gas. I'm really short on time, so I wolf down two cereal bars. Gear up, check out and head to the ridiculously expensive gas station. Water is already starting to penetrate my gear and I haven't even left town yet. It's slow going due to clouds again and I choose not to take 32 out since it's super wet and I don't want to do the unpaved portion in the rain. I go the normal way GPS tells me and right before I get onto 40 my front cylinder drops.
For those who are familiar with the SV650, this is an all too common issue that is easily rectified with the application of dialectric grease to the spark plug boot. I had done this prior to leaving, but removing and cleaning the boot on the way up rendered that useless. I know exactly what to do, but I need to find a place to stop to do my work. A rest stop should do the trick. It's freezing and this is the first time I can see my breath in my helmet.
This is where people started to offer assistance to get me on my way. A first for me, I must say.
Another older couple parks beside Jarvis at the rest stop as I'm sitting on the ground in the freezing rain with my hands in his innards trying to dry up the spark plug port. They ask how far I have to go and I can see the concern on the woman's face as I tell them I'm alright and I've done this fix many times before. They go inside the visitors center, do their business and come out just as I get everything set and fire Jarvis up.
He's running OK now, but the woman is still insisting that I take a dry towel she is trying to give me. I respectfully decline, telling her that it wouldn't be very dry in a few minutes anyway and thank her for the offer. The couple give me their well wishes and off they go. Not 30 seconds after they leave, the cylinder drops again and I haven't even left the parking lot. I hurry to get going in hopes that the heat from the engine will help evaporate the water, but there is just too much moisture on the road and I end up causing a back-up in traffic because I have very little power to negotiate the hilly mountain road. Every vehicle on the highway is trying to get by me so I pull off at the very next exit to find a gas station in hopes that they carry the dialectric grease I so dearly need. No dice. Every other automotive thing you could imagine... except for what I need. So I grab some more towels and get to drying things out again.
The rain has died a smidge, so I thought I would get lucky and finally get the engine up to temperature to boil off any excess water. Nope. Same story, different on-ramp. The next exit is for Canton and looks a little more populated than the previous ones I limped into. There is an Ingles grocery store and I finally feel like I will catch a break trying to find what I need. I call my fiancee' on the headset to update her on the situation and ask her what time it is since I don't want to take my phone out in the rain. 10 in the morning. It has taken me 2 hours to go 63 miles. FANTASTIC! As I wander around the Ingles, a voice behind me asks "Hey, didn't I pass you on 40? You were going awfully slow for a bike." An older gentleman who owns the voice walks up and I explain to him what the situation is and what I'm looking for. He says they probably won't have any, but walks around with me anyway to try and find it. I guess he could see how frustrated I was getting and tells me that he might have something in his work truck that could help. Electrical contact spray or something. I thank him, but spray would wash off just as soon as it is applied in my case. He goes on his way to finish his grocery store run and I'm finally able to get my phone out to aid in my adventure without it getting soaked since I'm indoors.
I find an auto parts store about a mile from where I am! Finally!!! Light at the end of the tunnel! As I'm getting my gear on, the man from Ingles has found me in the parking lot and pulls up next to me, rather adamant that I use the spray he has, which is now in his hand hanging out the window. Again, I politely decline and thank him, but tell him what I've found not too far away. I shake his hand and get back on the road, very slowly. It's only a mile, but I still miss a turn and end up going into some sort of factory that smelled of sh**. Turn around, make the proper turn and find my auto parts store. I buy a small tube of grease, just enough to cover what I need. Grab some more paper towels and get to work. I'm pretty sure that I was colder in Canton than when I was in Gatlinburg. I was having a hard time working my fingers because of the cold, but I still got it done.
While I was working in the parking lot, another Canton resident comes over and asks me if I'm alright. I explain my situation again and he tells me that he's a member of the "G2 Riders". I can't remember his name to save my life. He tells me it's a legitimate operation and would have given me his card if he had one on him. I'm in the process of putting everything back together when he lets me know that I can contact him through a phone number (that I immediately forgot) and he and his friends will get a truck to take me and the bike somewhere so I can use their tools to finalize my repairs and get my operation back on the road. It is a very generous offer, and I am rather skeptical about it since I'm so far from home, but I know all I need to do is liberally apply some grease to my spark plug boot and button everything back up. Sure enough, that's all I needed. Jarvis' idle was bouncing all over the place while I let him warm up, but I think it was just from how cold it was at that particular moment. Fairly certain it was the coldest either one of us had experienced together, wind chill and all.
I can't find anything on the "G2 Riders" anywhere on the web, Facebook, or anything of the like. If anyone happens to come across this and/or knows of this group, please tell them I said thank you for the extremely generous offer to help me get home. I greatly appreciated your genuine concern to get a fellow rider back on the road.
Finally headed home for good! The grease did the trick and Jarvis is running like the champ he is. The rain never stops. The hours go by, people sending me their well wishes as they pass by me at gas stations and rest stops. I had to stop more than I would have liked in order to ring out my gloves. The nitrile gloves had long since bitten the dust during my attempts at repairs, so it was just regular gloves and under-liners. Since I hadn't eaten a proper breakfast, my body was much colder than usual during my stop for lunch. It took me 25 minutes to properly warm up and be able to use my fingers for more delicate tasks like using the phone or handling money. I don't think I have ever enjoyed a cup of coffee so much in my life, or a meatball sub for that matter. Altogether I think that break lasted nearly 45 minutes.
Getting closer to home, I begin to realize that there is not a dry spot on me. My headset had stopped working some hours ago, Jarvis' speedometer was behaving strangely because of the rain not letting up at all during the entire trek. Until I made my last gas stop at the Woodbine exit, where it reduced to a drizzle. An hour left and it was 7 pm. I just wanted to get home. Would have already been home, showered, eaten dinner and unpacked had it not been for the malfunctions as soon as I got on the road. Made the call to update my ETA, gassed up and made the final streak.
Rounded the corner to see the garage already open and my smiling fiancee' awaiting my arrival. 12.5 hours later, my adventure had come to a close. It was an awesome feeling to pull in and officially put the kickstand down on such an incredible trip.
No comments:
Post a Comment