Fly, uhhh maybe, and Ride!

This is a ride report that really never was intended to be. I actually grabbed my camera on the way out the door as a last minute thought that, hey, be prepared, you never know. This ride report has it's roots in a ride report that has yet to be written. WTF you say? Well, I am referring to an awesome ten day, 5,000 mile ride back in May, which was deemed by the participants El Durango Cinco. As the name suggests, the ride was comprised of five of us that settled in Durango, CO for a few days and terrorized the good citizens of Colorado, New Mexico and Utah. I've been promising a report on that ride to close friends and family for two months now and just haven't been able to find the time to get it done. But upon return from that amazing trip a good friend of mine told me he had been following the Spotwalla and my mostly daily dispatches on Facebook and it had just about convinced him that he was ready to begin riding again. Well, he's a great guy and someone who would be a great riding partner so I was thrilled with the idea that he might want to get into sports touring.

As fate would have it I had just seen a gorgeous '08 A that was located in Colorado listed for sale in the Classified section of the fjrforum that day. In fact, I had commented to the owner that given all of the extras he had put on the bike combined with the very reasonable price he was asking, I felt it was probably the best deal I had ever seen offered on an FJR on this site! I mentioned this bike to my friend and one beer led to another and eventually we had devised a plan. Since he is just getting back into riding and definitely would not be up for a fly-n-ride I gleefully offered to fly out and ride the bike back for him if he decided to buy it. I'm just that kind of guy. I also told him that I felt that this bike was such a good deal that I would give him a "warranty" of such, if he got the bike and decided after a couple of months or so that he had made a mistake and just didn't want to ride then I would buy the bike from him for the price he paid. As a kicker, I told him that he was welcome to ride my V-strom 650 until he felt comfortable climbing aboard the FJR. I mean damn, who could pass up on a deal like this right? So he gave me the proxy to contact the seller and work out a deal for him. Long story short, the deal was struck. The only problem was that my dance card was packed for the next six weeks and we would have to wait until late July to conduct the fly-n-ride. That late July weekend came last week.



The Fiasco Begins -

My flight was scheduled to depart on Southwest July 22nd at 6:50 local time and arrive in Denver at 10:00 a.m. The problem with that was that Southwest had a computer glitch a couple of days prior and had cancelled over 1,000 flights on Thursday, the 21st. When my alarm went off Friday morning at 5 a.m. I had an email notice that my flight had been CANCELLED. WTF do I do now? I scrambled around at 5:30 that morning trying to find a replacement flight and ultimately found a direct flight out of Atlanta, 2 1/2 hours away, that left at 10:50 EST, which was only four hours away since I was in the central time zone. I alerted my wife and she threw herself together and off we went. Although the ticket was an additional $125 I could still make the plan work as I was only getting into Denver a couple of hours later.

So we haul *** to Atlanta and as we were about 30 minutes out I called Delta to find out which of the two terminals in the Atlanta airport I needed to go to. The automated system recognized my phone number and proclaimed, "We see that you have a flight scheduled for tomorrow, July 23rd at 10:50 a.m." I said, WTF???? tomorrow? what had I done? Well, I had purchased a ticket for the next day and I was already in Atlanta. So my wife pulled up the Delta website on her laptop and confirmed that there in fact was the same flight scheduled to depart at 10:50 for Denver today as well, BUT the ticket was an additional $225. So now, my initial Southwest ticket of $260 had turned into $625. Oh well, I was already there so I had my wife drop me at the terminal anyway. I went inside and changed the ticket to fly that day and keep the fly-n-ride schedule in place. I notified the seller that I would be in Denver a couple of hours later than originally scheduled and he confirmed that would not be a problem for him. So I boarded the big ole Delta and off we went. Three hours later we touched down in Denver and Casey, the seller, was waiting for me at the baggage claim.

Fiasco Completed and the Fun Begins -

Casey and his cute little son had ridden the bike to the Denver airport from Colorado Springs to meet me and deliver the bike. Casey's wife and young daughter had followed them there to take them home after the transaction was completed. This is the All American Family folks - just really great people. Casey is as fine of a guy as I've ever met and went the extra mile to make this sale as easy as possible on me. Thanks Casey! and thanks to Casey's wife for enduring the extended transfer. It took us an hour plus to go over the bike in the airport parking garage and finally with everything in place, title delivered and bike loaded we made it official!



We said our good byes and well wishes and off they went. I had a few more things to button up and in short order I was pulling out of the parking garage, with 1,370 miles to my house. My plan was to make lay down about 400 miles with what remained of Friday afternoon, then drop 600-700 miles down on Saturday and then an easy 300 miles to the house on Sunday. The forecast was for extreme heat throughout the Midwest for the entire weekend with highs expected to be in the 102-105 range. I knew it would be hot but I'm from Alabama, we know hot and this wouldn't be my first rodeo, so I honestly had no concerns. The main thing was that I needed to stay hydrated and focused and this would just be all in a days work for an LD touring guy like myself.

Side bar - People often ask why would anyone want to do an Iron Butt ride? Well, a ride like this is my answer. I did my first SS1000 back in 2010. While I don't yearn to do Saddle Sore rides ever time out, that ride gave me the confidence to know that my riding limits were well beyond whatever I would usually need to do on most any given day. I was just confronted with that situation a couple of weeks ago returning from the Outer Banks when I left out of Raleigh with a comfortable 400 mile day planned and during the ride learned that my wife had an emergency situation. It was nothing for me to shift gears (pardon the pun) in my mind and head straight home, even if it meant riding 700 miles that day instead of the 400 I left out thinking I was going to ride. So 1,300 plus miles in 2 1/2 days through sweltering heat was well within my comfort zone.

Dodge City or Bust!

My plan was to try to get about 400 miles in the first day and Dodge City was showing to be a little over 350 miles from the Denver airport so I set a course for I-70 to Limon, CO and then US 287 thru Kit Carson, CO on to US 400 / US 50 that would take me into Dodge City. Here's a few shots from that leg of the journey.

It was tough seeing the Rockies in the distance and having to turn east!



Off the plane and immediately onto the Plains!



Another Tesla sighting, my third in as many weeks. Is someone trying to tell me something?









It began to warm up just a bit.



My middle name.



Then back to chasing shadows. I thought if I sped up I might catch it!



I don't expect to ever take US 50 west of Dodge City ever again. These places were ever 10 miles or so and just about made me puke, if not due to the smell alone.



I passed a yard of a different kind in Garden City. This place was huge and had all of the parts for a windmill farm. The pieces were so huge it was tough to get pictures that capture the scale of the scene, but you get the "picture" from these.

The blades, towers, generators and nose caps all in this one picture.



A close up of the towers. They're massive!



The sun was setting and fortunately I was getting closer to Dodge City.



I finally made it in to town. Got a CHEAP hotel, took a shower and headed out to find a burger and a beer. I'm not sure what's up in this strange town but everything closed at 10 pm. The "Bad Habit Bar and Grill" doesn't let you turn it into a habit of staying late that's for sure, they were closed at 10 also, on a Friday night!

I finally found a beer at the Central Station Bar and Grill, but yep, you guessed it, the grill closed at 10. At least I got a beer!



Then it was back to my fine accommodations for the night at The Thunderbird Motel.



By this time, with 350 miles under my belt I had fallen in love with this bike. Casey had put a Hole Shot tuner and slip on pipes on the bike and not only did it sound awesome, it ran like a scalded dog! Honestly, it is THE best running FJR I've ever ridden. It's mint and loaded with all kinds of practical farkles. While I knew from the seller's description this bike was going to be nice, my expectations had been wildly exceeded. I couldn't be happier for my buddy who was getting this awesome bike!

With just over 1,000 miles left to my house via the route I planned to take, tomorrow we head for Arkansas.

Coolness. Where's the rest? Patience is surely not one of my virtues.

SkooterG said:

Coolness. Where's the rest? Patience is surely not one of my virtues.

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Neither is coolness. Leave the man alone, he is doing something useful.

Good to see you post every so often. I was afraid some jealous husband might have shot you.

In!

...more please

Bandit: you are indeed a writer, not just a rider. You really need to do more of it. We NEED stuff like this around here. My FJR's been sintting in the garage for awhile due ot time constraints so I need some vicarious thrills. Your flight dilemma sounded like a nightmare. Glad you worked it out, but what a COST. I suppose you know that the bike could've been shipped for less than that donation you made to Delta. But then you would've missed out on a great ride and we'd still be lookin' for something interesting to read on the forum.

Keep 'em coming

Gary

darksider #44

...looking forward to the next installment!

--G

escapefjrtist said:

...looking forward to the next installment!
--G

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Ditto!

Tyler said:

escapefjrtist said:

...looking forward to the next installment!
--G

Click to expand...

Ditto!

Click to expand...

+1

We'll get back to the action later this evening. But for now, a little addition to the first day. I would be remiss if I didn't expand on the ending to one of the kraziest days in my life. I've told you about the flight fiasco, and then the wonderful ride I had later, and I mentioned that the town of Dodge City seems to roll the carpet up much earlier than I had envisioned a "Wild West" town would do. But I really need to expand on my experience there. I had been warned by a co-worker that the smell in that area was reason enough not to go. This isn't mean to be a dis to my Kansas friends. Kansas is, although mostly flat and boring from a riding standpoint, an otherwise pretty place. Thanks to all the farmers who do their part to help feed the world. But those feed yards were some of the most disgusting things I've ever seen. I could always tell when one was on the horizon, as there seemed to be a dust cloud in the distance and then that pungent, putrid smell would creep into my helmet and there it was, a mass of cows waiting on their demise. I'm not a PETA person and this isn't a political commentary on what people should and shouldn't eat, I love a good hamburger just as much as the next guy. Just look at me, I didn't get this big on beer alone! But there was just something about those numerous feed lots that just made me want to puke every time I saw them.

Back to Dodge City. Damn, this place was such a weird town. As I mentioned, they roll the carpet up at 10 p.m. But allow me to go a little deeper into the story. I rolled into town just as the sun was going down, it must have been around 9 p.m. I didn't already have reservations, but I had looked ahead and knew to expect high prices for the "decent" hotels; Marriott chain, Best Western Plus etc. were all in the $135-150 range, which meant after tax they would be around $170. Since our fly-n-ride budget had been planned to be in the $500-600 range and had already been blown by the plane ticket alone, I really wanted to be budget conscious. So when I got in to town I rode around a little bit checking out the various options. I pulled into the parking lot of the Thunderbird Hotel and searched the Kayak app. I almost selected the Super 8, which the Kayak app showed was $79, probably $90ish after tax. The grounds of the Thunderbird were very clean, it was an old school motel in that I could pull up to the door and unload, which is always much easier than dragging gear, luggage and *** into an elevator three times going back and forth to unload and settle in after being on the road all day. Plus, the the "Bad Habit Bar and Grill" was directly across the street.

So I walk into the office of the Thunderbird and ask the nice lady what the rate for the evening will be, for a room of course. She said $45 and I asked her if the beds were comfortable and she said, "jes, we haves memory foam mattress". I'm thinking, well, that could be a positive, at least it won't be a squeaky brick. So I took the room, filled out the paperwork and headed off to my room. I then asked the clerk where the nearest Wallgreen's was located. She responded with, "Ohhh, dey clothes at 8!" WTF? A major chain drugstore in a town of nearly 30,000 and they close at at 8 p.m.??? Really... What I needed I could most likely get from the Love's gas station down the street so no biggie, but still... what is it with this place?

I pulled up in front of my room and unloaded the bike. The room was actually very clean and I have stayed in hotels that I paid a LOT more for that were much more "icky". Despite the occasional fly that landed on me, I was in Dodge City after all, everything was fine. I took a nice hot shower, with the shower head that even my 5'5 wife would have had to duck under to wet her hair. (We wouldn't have been staying there had my wife been with me, but I digress). But it was fine, I was happy and my wallet was really happy. So cleaned up and feeling mostly refreshed, I had been up since 5 a.m. after all, had the flight fiasco, driven 2 1/2 hours to Atlanta, dealt with that mess, taken a three hour flight in the cramped coach, ridden the motorcycle through 105 degree heat for the past six hours, but remarkably, I felt pretty well. I climbed on the bike to run down to the gas station to pick up the couple of odds and ends I would have preferred pay Walgreen's for and then rode back to the Bad Habit across the street from the Thunderbird. I notice that there are only two cars in the parking lot, that had been full only an hour or so before when I rode through town looking for a hotel. I pull up to the front door and notice that the "Open" sign is not illuminated and the posted hours say that they close at 10 p.m. I look at my watch and it's now 10:20. I think for a minute, "Can this be real? It's Friday night for God's sake!" So I accept the fact that I'm not going to be making any bad habits here and head on down the road in search of another place to grab a burger and a beer.

About a mile down Wyatt Earp Blvd. I pull up to another "bar and grill" and yep, closed at 10 p.m. too. By now I've resigned myself to the fact I ain't getting a beer AND a burger. So, I remember seeing the BUD neon signs along the main touristy area that apparently was the original "Old Town" Dodge City. I pull up to the front door there and the sign on the door is a Budweiser poster with some other stuff written in Spanish. I walked inside and it was like I walked into some weird Pulp Fiction set. It was this long, dark paneled hallway, that had some 70's disco lights flickering towards the end. It was smokey and there was some Mexican music playing. About that time it hit me that I was in a Mexican bar in the heart of the tourist area. It just didn't compute but I said WTH and rolled with it. The 10 or so patrons sitting around smoking and sipping on their beers were just staring at me like, "Reely, wat de fok es dis' dude tinking?" But that stuff doesn't bother me, I always try to make lemonade out of lemons and who knows, I may end up making some new friends in this place. So I walk up to the bar and ask the cute little bartender for a Budweiser. She asked, "ju have meembersheep?" Me, "No, I just want a Budweiser". She replies, "ju need meembersheep". I replied, again, "I just want a Budweiser". So she waves over to someone and this older lady comes over and asks me, "Do ju have meembersheep?" Again, I just said that I wanted a Budweiser. So she says that I have to have a membership because this is a private club, but if I follow her back up front, up that long, dark hallway, I can sign the guest book. I asked her if there was any place in this town that I could just get a beer and she said, "jes, Central Station". So I headed for the door, keeping a close eye on my backside and headed down Wyatt Earp to the Central Station.

The Central Station was another bar and grill I had seen earlier on my motel tour of the town when I arrived. I had noticed earlier that it had a wonderful grill aroma and I hoped that maybe, just maybe they were still serving. But at least I knew I could get a beer. When I pulled up there were people hanging out on the balcony still enjoying their beverages but of course the sign reads that the restaurant closed at 10 p.m.! I walked inside anyway and found out that the while the grill closed at 10 I could still get a beer. Finally! So I sit down with my cold Budweiser and there's a guy onstage playing guitar and singing some country twang. It became clear to me real quick this was't my kind of bar, but hey at least I finally had my cold Budweiser. I had one more while suffering through what was blaring through the loudspeakers. I paid my tab and headed back towards the Thunderbird, took a big gulp of the Zzzquil I had bought earlier at the gas station, set the alarm for 5 a.m. and FINALLY put one of the KRAZIEST days I had ever lived behind me. At least tomorrow I get to ride that awesome FJR for 700 miles!

FJRBandit said:

Back to Dodge City. Damn, this place was such a weird town.

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Now you know where the saying "Let's get the f**k outta Dodge!" came from!

So up early in Dodge City, and as Blind squirrel noted above, it was time to get the hell outta Dodge. LOL!!! Classic.

My $45 budget motel didn't include breakfast so I hit the I-hop on the way out that morning.



I had the egg white omelette with spinach and onions and a side of fruit. Yummmm, well ok, it was good. But I was at Ihop, I really wanted the pancakes.



Time to get the Hell outta Dodge! LOL - thanks Blind Squirrel, I just love that, AND it sums up exactly how I felt that morning!





It was like Transformers was out that morning!



I stopped in Wichita at Wal-Mart and picked up a camel back (thanks to Bungie for the idea!!!). I have to say, it was an ideal set up. It took a little bit of trial an error but once I got it set up and had the tube in place it became very simple to stay hydrated without even thinking about it. At each stop I put a liter or so of cold water in the bladder and it worked out great. Since I didn't have a backpack or straps for the camel back, I just placed it into the spine pad pouch of my riding jacket. I ran the tube up the spine and put the tube through the tag loop and wrapped it over the top of my left shoulder. The tube was there any time I felt like taking a sip of water. Perfect!

I stopped in Cherryvale, KS to have lunch with forum member Stose85 - Abel is one hell'uva guy! Not just because he bought my lunch Actually, he should have let me buy his lunch. He was on duty that weekend as a municipal police officer. I had sent him a text when I was in Wichita letting him know that I was on my way. He responded and said that I was about two hours out. Well, I found it humorous as I rounded the corner towards our meeting area and knew that I was nearing our meeting spot when my Passport radar detected Ka band radar! Lol! I instantly though, well, Abel is nearby. sure enough, there he was, waiting along the main highway, as a good public servant, ensuring that I didn't pass the intersection where we had planned to meet.

Abel and I had a nice lunch at subway, and like I said he bought my lunch. I resisted, but he insisted. We had a nice chat and it was soon time that I was on my way, as he needed to get back to protecting the public. Thanks to Abel and thanks to all of our men and women in blue out there putting their lives on the line everyday to protect us all! Somehow, not only did I forget to take a picture of our lunch, but I even forgot to get a picture of Abel. Many of you will meet he and his wife at NAFO this weekend and I assure you you'll be meeting one stand up guy!

Back on the road and soon i was in Missouri. I passed through Springfield.



On my way to MO state road 14. Fun and scenic road for about 100 miles, much of which was through the Mark Twain National Forrest.

















The fun continued after I took an extended break in a church parking lot well out in the countryside.







I made my way into West Plains, MO and found a great little BBQ place, the Savor Grill and BBQ, where I had an EXCELLENT burger and a 'merica beer!





Honestly, that was one of the best hamburgers I've ever had! And those beans, man, they were good! I talked with the owner after finishing my dinner and he told me he adds brisket, pulled pork, BBQ sauce, onions and a hint of brown sugar to make the beans. These were probably the best baked beans I've ever had as well. You can find Savor on US 160, just west of the intersection of US 63 and US 160. Trust me, you won't be disappointed.

From West Plains, I had about 100 miles left to Jonesboro, AR. I didn't have reservations anywhere that evening but I had scouted out rooms there and could get a Holiday Inn Express for $89. Jonesboro is only 320 miles from my house and from there it would be all interstate. While I generally avoid interstates if possible, this would give me a simple 5 hour ride home. I wouldn't have to get up early, and I would still get home mid-afternoon.

The sun was setting behind me and I watched a strong thunderstorm out about 50 miles ahead of me. Fortunately, the thunderstorm was moving in the same general direction I was so the air had been cooled and it was just a pleasurable ride, running down a very familiar US 63 into Northeast Arkansas.

Again, the entire way I was simply having a ball on this bike! It truly is one great running machine, handles like a dream and the throttle response is second to none. I was in familiar territory now and having a blast in these sweepers I've ridden so many times before.







Soon after the sun had set for the evening I arrived at the Holiday Inn Express in Jonesboro. After a nice chat with a Harley guy who asked me about my "BMW" I got my gear hauled in, took my hot shower and headed out for a nightcap. Since I had already eaten dinner a couple hours prior in West Plains I just had a couple of 'merica beers at Ruby Tuesday and then made my way back to the room around 11 pm. I took a big gulp of the Zzzquil and off to sleep I went, knowing that the next day would be an easy jaunt down the very familiar I-55 into Memphis, and then I-22 into Sweet Home Alabama. Little did I know, this was only a dream! and tomorrow we'll learn how a five hour cake walk turned into a 10 hour nightmare!!!!

Hasta la manana mis amigos!

Liking the RR 'Bandit...with the trials sure seems this one was a [good] test for you!

...waiting for the five-hour trip home!

--G

FJRBandit said:

Little did I know, this was only a dream! and tomorrow we'll learn how a five hour cake walk turned into a 10 hour nightmare!!!!

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You don't get to just leave it there for the night!!!!!!

Turk, I am loving the perspective of the report. I am very thankful we have some great writers and riders on the forum to seek adventure through. The ride reports are just great with the "backstories".

I often catch myself reading more posts from our creative minds. Partly because I have always loved to read and partly because I am too dumb to understand the technical side of our machines.

Well done sir, looking for more!! Be it "tragedy or triumph" in your story.

Thanks guys, and I promise not to keep ya hanging like your prom dates did. But maybe "nightmare" was a little too strong of a word. Either way, I'll ruin the story for you now and say that at least there was no tragedy, damage or injury involved here, just a lot of exacerbation and worry for quite some time, until the mystery was solved. All that added up to extreme delay and thus my easy five hours was not to be and I ended up getting home at 8:30 p.m., instead of the 3ish I had planned. So on with the story........

For those of you that came here looking for blood and destruction, fortunately for me it wasn't to be. But what was to be a simply jaunt down the interstate that morning turned into a long and difficult slog only 30 minutes into an otherwise perfect start to the morning. My day began with a sleep in that morning. That's not something I get to do very often, but after a severe hangover on Thursday, an early morning rise on Friday only then to turn into a very stressful (and expensive) six hours, the resulting sweltering ride into Dodge City and all that went with that, then another early morning Saturday followed by a 700 mile day, again through sweltering heat, I deserved to stay in bed until 8:30. Especially one as comfortable as that Holiday Inn Express bed was that night. So I finally dragged myself out of bed, barely made it downstairs in time for the almost non existent "free" breakfast. At least they had yogurt and coffee. After not getting the pancakes the day before at I-hop, I really wanted one of those hotel waffles, but that wasn't to be.

Afterwards, I dragged my gear back downstairs and got the bike loaded up. It was an overcast morning with a bit of humidity in the air, but otherwise not too warm, just right for a leisurely stroll home. I made my way onto the interstate and began my trek towards Memphis. While rolling along, again enjoying the hell out of riding this motorcycle, I began thinking about how I was going to deliver this story to you all. My thoughts went from a clever line about "Confession: Honey I spent the weekend with another" to just an outright profession of love of this motorcycle. I know I keep saying that but it's true. This bike simply rides like a dream.

Well, I'm blasting down the interstate and a couple of rabbits go screaming by in the 90+ range so of course I hop into line (get it? rabbits, hop in ). This goes on for about 10 minutes when I realize that they have wiggled their way through some traffic and are pulling away from me. So I straightened up and firmly planted my boots on the pegs and to my surprise my left foot slipped off the peg as though it was sliding off the back of a greased pig. WTF?? I'm thinking to myself, did that really just happen? So I give it another try, same result. I'm simply baffled at what could be going on. The first thing I thought was I had stepped in some oil at the gas station when I was filling up just before I had gotten on the interstate. I quickly dismissed that as surely it wouldn't have taken 45 minutes for me to notice that... Then it hit me, the only answer to this was it had to be oil. OIL??? Oh ****!!! Where is this OIL coming from???? I glance at the instrument panel and confirm that the oil light is NOT on and then again try to plant my foot on the peg. To no avail, the peg has to be covered in oil. I immediately move over to the right lane and begin looking at options for pulling off the road. There was a truck weight station just ahead and it was closed, perfect. So I pull into there and immediately pull off the shoulder and shut down the bike. I dismounted and sure enough the entire left side of the motorcycle is COVERED in oil from roughly the gear shift level to the rear. My first inclination is that it MUST be coming from the oil filter, being as that is right in that area. However, I checked the filter and it was securely fitted and there did not appear to be any oil coming from around the seal. I inspected the other side of the bike and there were no signs of oil on the right side of the bike. Back to the left and the culprit seemed to be the clutch cover housing, as this is where most of the oil seemed to be emanating from. The only thing I could think was that a gasket had ruptured and it was spewing what appeared to be fresh oil. I put the bike on the center stand and confirmed through a check of the sight gauge that the oil level was low, but still showing to be at the low level mark. Certainly I could make it a mile or two to the next exit and find a gas station.

This was what I was looking at on the side of the interstate. Note all of the various areas from which oil was dripping in copious amounts. This pipe was also covered and getting stained from the oil burning onto it. It was making me sick to my stomach looking at this!



So I headed on up to the next exit and sure enough found a gas station. On the way to the gas station I called a good motorcycle buddy, Jim, in Huntsville, AL, about four hours away, and told him what was going on. The FIRST thing out of his mouth was, "Do you need me to come get you?" No hesitation at all, that's just the kind of guy he is. But that wasn't why I called him and that would have to be the last resort for me to put him out like that. I really just wanted another opinion on just what the hell could be happening. Of course, his first thought was the oil filter as well, but I assured him it was sealed and no oil was coming from around the seal. He said he was going to call his good friend who owns a shop and is a top notch Yamaha mechanic. Meanwhile, I told him I would be cleaning up the bike, adding oil and then riding it short distances and see if 1) I could determine where the oil was coming from and 2) just how much it was leaking, ie; at what rate was it leaking, say in a given 5 mile stretch, because at this point I thought it had just happened suddenly.

So I cleaned the bike up pretty good using the paper towels from the windshield cleaning station. Bought one quart of oil and it took 3/4 of that to top off the oil level to the top mark on the sight gauge. I stored the remaining 1/4 of the quart and went back inside to purchase another quart. When I bought the second quart the young clerk asked me if I was having trouble with my motorcycle. I told him what was going on and he expressed concern that it being Sunday no shops would be open. But in his home country, India, that wouldn't be a problem. He didn't mean it as a smart ***, it was more of just a fact that my *** could be stranded at least for the day. So I told him of my plan and he agreed, but gave me some sage advice, "drive slow and keep the rpm's down" he said. While that seems to be common sense, when you are generally distraught you aren't always thinking clearly and sometimes overlook the obvious. I certainly wouldn't have been hauling ***, but his point underscored the need for me to really keep the oil pressure as low as possible.

I sent Jim this picture by text and used the screwdriver to point to the spot that I suspected was the source of the oil, as this is where most of the oil was accumulating.



I cleaned up the bike as best I could and set out to cross the Mississippi River. I was somewhat apprehensive because if you are familiar with Memphis at all, the bridge crosses into Memphis from Arkansas into a very rough part of town. The last thing I wanted was to have to pull off and start dealing with the bike there.

I made my way to the airport exit and headed to a motel parking lot, as there were no gas stations around. I had been about 10 miles and the oil was still clearly leaking but it wasn't nearly as bad as before. Success in that the reduced speeds had helped slow the loss of oil considerably AND the oil level still showed full. I began to think I might make it home today after all. Just take it easy and check the oil level every 30 miles or so, top it off and go on, rinse and repeat every 30 miles.

So I went another 10 miles into Olive Branch, Mississippi and pulled off the highway at a Flying J Truck Stop. I found some shade well away from the bustling traffic going in and out. Put the bike on the center stand and cleaned it up, again, confirmed that the oil level was still good and that the rate of the loss of oil was still very low. So I grabbed a bite to eat, and stood around just staring at the bike. That's when I noticed this.



It's somewhat hard to tell from the picture, but the oil filter was bent! It even had a small speck where the yellow had come off the casing. That was actually a little pin prick and I felt that this had to be where the oil was coming from! I really felt as though I had located the problem. But with it being Sunday there wasn't a lot I could do other than just keep limping towards home, now 240 miles away. One thing I thought was maybe put some duct tape on the filter at least to impede the flow at least a little bit. So I walked over to this van that was parked near me and asked the guy if he had some duct tape. He said sure and went inside his van to retrieve it. I explained the problem and he jumped right in to help me solve it if he could. I thanked him for his help and his reply was, in his Ukrainian accent, "Hey, no problem, we are all just on the road. This is what we do, we help each other." I knew I had met a friend.

So he examined the filter and agreed that this was where the oil was coming from. He went back to his van to get some aluminum tape. he felt this would work better than duct tape. But because of the oil and the heat from the filter we couldn't get it to adhere to the filter. So we went with the duct tape, then wrapped that with the aluminum tape. I cleaned up the bike, and the pipes as best I could, actually did a decent job on the pipes with the rag I had borrowed my Holiday Inn Express that morning to clean the Kansas bugs off the bike.





We both knew this hadn't fixed the problem, but both hoped that would at least get me home. He also suggested that I keep the rpm's low. Feeling a little better about my prospects now I went inside and tried to think of something I could buy for he and his friend as a thank you. So what else? The international language of friendship, a six pack of Bud Light! So I sat around with my Ukrainian buddy and his friend who was from Lithuania while they grilled up some grub for lunch. They were both expediters and were waiting on the call from Fed Ex to make their next deliveries. We each had a couple of the Bud Lights while we shot the bull. They offered for me to join them in their lunch, but I had just eaten so I respectfully declined. Finally, I decided to give our "fix" a try and point it towards the house. The time now was already 3 pm and I should have already been home. I still had at least four more hours to go. So we said our good byes and I wished them both well, as they did me. I think they genuinely hated to see me leave.

My Ukrainian buddy.



And both of them, Ukrainian seated and Lithuanian standing.



So I strike it on down the road. I called Jim and told him what I had found and the band aid we had put on it. But before he and I hung up I could tell the peg was getting covered again and this just wasn't going to work. Jim suggested that I find a filter and just spin a new one on. This really wasn't a bad idea because the bike was already covered in oil anyway. So I pulled off at the next exit and looked up the filter number and found a list of cross reference filter numbers. I called Advanced Auto 45 miles further down the road in Tupelo, at least this was still moving towards home. To my surprise they had three different filters in stock. The guy said they closed at 7 and it was only 4 pm, so I pointed it towards Tupelo. Of course I went through a driving thunderstorm along the way, but that was ok, it cooled things off a bit for the remainder of the day.

I got to Tupelo and found Advanced Auto, went inside and made my purchase.



I stuffed the blue paper towels into the tupperware under the oil filter and then couldn't get the filter to spin off. So I went back inside and bought an oil filter ratchet.



That did the job! And off she came. I had the new filter sitting there waiting to be spun on and I really didn't loose that much oil.



Most of the mess came from the filter that I had taken off. I wasn't prepared for it to pour out as I moved it to the side. I cleaned up my mess as best I could and threw all my trash away. I didn't feel too bad about making the mess in the Advanced parking lot, as I figured much worse had been done there before me AND at least I had pulled off to the side of the building and not out where people come and go.



Feeling pretty good about this time!



It was now 5:30 pm and I was ready to get home! So I called the owner of the bike and reported the days events to him. I had not called him earlier because he was in Orlando in a continuing ed class and I didn't want to alert him to something that may not be a major problem and have him worrying over something he couldn't do anything about. Although it was a major *** ache to me, I was just relieved that the problem had been solved and it wasn't a mechanical issue. I have no freaking idea how the oil filter got dented, but at least that's all it was!!!!

Time to head to the house. headed back to the interstate I passed the birthplace of The King!



And in short order, I was here! And no, in Birmingham we do not love the governor!



It was a beautiful evening and I was back in love with this bike!



Making the final turn headed for the house.



It had been an eventful three days as you can well imagine. But what mattered most was I was home safe and this awesome machine is now in my garage, awaiting it's new owner to return home from Orlando to have his first look at this baby! Again, I can't thank Casey enough. He was a pleasure to do business with and he took meticulous care of this bike. I don't think we could have found a better machine in all of America for my buddy. Hopefully soon we'll be out on a ride and I'll introduce you to him through a ride report. Until then, keep polishing those pipes, after all this burned on oil, you know that's what we'll be doing.

Was just thinking about that place you where you were asked, "Do ju have meembersheep?" Ha. That was funny. Congrats on getting home safely, and thanks for taking all the time to do the ride report. Took a while to read, but it was certainly worth it.

Gary

darksider #44

Awesome - glad you were able to find it. Great report!

Enjoyed reading your story, thanks for sharing it. Never heard of an oil filter taking a hit before, but can sure see how that is possible given its location on the FJR. Have to say that it was the w123 in the driveway that first got my attention.