Aww shucks, t'wernt nuthin any other bone head biker wouldn't do.
I must admit when I got the x-rays back the doctor said they took one of the head. He said not to worry, the image showed nothing.
:blink:
I had a good time at WFO. Aside from the Elk molesting my bike an hour south of Crescent City, the ride in was quite enjoyable. My buddy Eddy took good care of me by the side of the road and made a fine McGuyver fix on the right saddlebag to keep the bike rolling. I figured if the bike was road worthy and I wasn't spittin up blood, I could keep going. My major complaint at the time was a very sore shoulder. After a while I recognized the discomfort that some rib problems would cause (I have had broken ribs before). The next few nights were rather rough when I got horizontal. It took me about a week to be able to get back up vertical in the morning without a major effort. I had good range of motion and limbered up the more I rode.
When I came into Moscow I passed up a shop that had the word WELDING on the front of it. I kept that in mind when I registered and got my room. After unpacking I hit the phone book and gave him a call. "Sure I can do Tig welding for you" - Music to my ears! I headed back south, just out of town to Mundy's Welding and Machine. Dave Mundy is the kind of guy that is much needed in the countryside like this. He has a workshop with a nice assortment of tools to fabricate or repair just about anything. Dave let me roll my bike inside - in the shade and take the broken muffler stay and my custom flag rack off so he could do the repairs. Within the hour and a half I was there he must have had 4 other small jobs come through. The flag rack was thin wall aluminum tubing, the muffler/saddlebag stay was diecast aluminum. Dave did a fine job with the welds. He only charged me 25 dollars for the job. Needless to say I was a happy camper.
The Saddle Sore 1000 was just more of the same - ride ride ride. Many thanks for the crew that put it on. For my first one I think it went very well.
Bust, I am a bit dubious about that ambidextrous shaver you sent me, but the plaque you made, that I received for riding the SS1000 while injured, looks beautiful. You did a fine job with it.
I left Sunday noon without making any plans to ride with anybody. To be quite honest I hurt and just wanted to go home. Someone I respect told me in the wee hours of the morning before I turned in, that I got the LD bug. I sure entertained the thought of making the 950 mile trek home in one shot. I figured I'd be home by 9am Monday morning, but that didn't quite happen.
Somewhere around Dayton Washington I hit an Alligator - a failed truck recap laying in the middle of the road. I thought nothing of it at the time. This was around 2 in the afternoon.
By around 5 or 6 I had a choice which way to go at the intersection of US 395 and US 26 at Mount Vernon. I could either take a jog to the east for a few miles and continue down US 395 into California, or take US 26 into Redmond, then take US 97 down through Bend and into California. That would eventually join up with Interstate 5 near Mount Shasta. I had taken the trip down US 395 last year about the same time of day and knew the road conditions and lack of towns/civilization. I chose to go west on 26 after gassing up. After passing through the John Day Fossil Beds, and past the "Shoe Tree", it got pretty dark. The weather front was moving in and I was heading for quite a light show in the sky. It got to where the bike wasn't handling very well, and I was quite concerned about being caught in a lightning storm that I decided to take shelter in an Oregon State campground.
Yes I had finally gone camping on this ride.
I wasn't sure that I could get myself up off the ground in the morning, but the promise of a hot shower afterward was the carrot on the stick for me.
In the morning I woke up, had my hot shower, broke camp and packed the bike. I was just stepping back for the "once over" before I put on my jacket, when I spotted the flat front tyre. No wonder It wasn't handling well the last few miles the night before, it was going down. It didn't take much to spot the problem, I didn't pick up a nail, I had a gash 2 cords deep with a flap in the tread. It didn't dawn on me until much later that it was the Alligator I hit back in Dayton that compromised the tyre.
It must have been a slow leak because it wasn't flat when I parked the bike, just soft. I found out from the Camp Host that Prineville was about 8 miles down the road and may have a motorcycle shop there. I took a chance and inflated the tyre with my on board pump and slowly headed out west. It held up until I reached the outskirts of town. I had to pump up again after being directed by a gas station attendant to a motorcycle shop on the far end of town. I never found the place, but I did drop in a car repair shop and used their phone book to call. It turned out the bike shop didn't have a tyre my size but gave me the number to a dealer in Bend about 36 miles south on US 97. The time was around 10 am and I knew the tyre wouldn't make it to Bend, so I bailed out and called for a AAA flat bed tow.
I was back on the road around 1 pm with a Michelin Pilot Power 2CT on the front. I wasn't choosey, it was the only tyre he had that fit my rim.
(Shamless pitch... Pro Caliber Motorsports in Bend Oregon. Good shop to have work done in.
)
It was rather anticlimatic after that. I had a good run down US 97 to the town of Weed, at Mt. Shasta. Took I-5 to I-505 to I-80 to I-680 then home to Milpitas. I was pulling in the garage around 11:30 that evening, a little over 12 hours off my pace.
Several people have mentioned I was really lucky on this trip. Hitting an ELK and continuing on with the ride. Surviving my first SS100, injured and with a stricken bike. Even having front tyre damage and not getting thrown down from that.
I don't believe in luck or a charmed life.
I have a Co Pilot that always rides with me.
He keeps me safe! He deflected that elk at such an angle that it only threw me down, not T-boned. He kept me from getting seriously injured in the spill. He kept us safe in triple digit weather through Grants Pass, gave us the wisdom to take it easy and stay hydrated. He kept me on my toes when doing the SS1000. When I hit that Alligator, He kept the tyre together. He even arranged for a lightning storm to stop me before the tyre had a chance to blow out at speed. Say what you will, but I will always have a spot for my Co Pilot when I ride.
Damn it was a good trip!!!
I won't forget this one for a long time!
Life is good!
:yahoo:
Brodie
