It was a perfect Saturday morning, sunny and warm after a week of rain. I was watching the news and for some reason they gave the temperature for a small town named Port Jervis on the NY, NJ, PA border. So I could in fact travel 3 States in one shot.
As a teenager I went on Church retreats in Port Jervis. A tall redhead named Eleanor taught me some new tricks on every retreat. Very fond memories
I plotted out a route that would take me on nice local windy roads, and I would return on I-84 and come home and cut the lawn.
I oiled the chain and added a couple of pounds of air to the tires and I headed off over the Mountain toward Orange County NY. Yes that Orange County.
The K8 ran flawlessly and I was really enjoying some nice local scenery mixed with some high speed runs on Route 17. Everywhere I looked were beautiful green hillsides and Mountains. It was wonderful 80 degrees.
I finally reached Port Jervis and stopped for lunch at a BBQ place for some eye watering Buffalo wings and a Coke. I rode around a bit looking at the town and finally I crossed a bridge between NY and PA and stopped for some Gas. I was thinking about hopping into NJ to make it an official tri State trip, but the grass was waiting.
I entered I-84 and headed up the Mountain, what a view and the bike was loving climbing the up the steep grade to 1250 feet. Life was good and I would be home in about 1 ½ hours. It was 1:30 PM.
About 13 miles later, I felt and odd but mild wobble, so I pulled over on the shoulder which was steeply banked, so the friggin kickstand would not go down. The rear tire was flat so the bike doesn’t roll too well. I managed to manhandle it around closer to the road at an awkward angle. Now anyone who owns a 750 knows you have to get the kickstand down have the bike leaning a bit, this shoulder was graded so I pushed the bike to a spot that looked bit flatter.
I kind got it angled on the shoulder, but with the flat I had very little clearance. It seemed almost stable.
Oh Sh1t, what now! Stay calm and think this through. Not being sure where I was other than being at the Mile Marker 13.
2:30 PM.
I had a plan, I would call the wife and ask her to bring me a can or two of flat fix and be on my way. We have been married for 29 years so she expects the unexpected from me. She said she was on her way, and what was I doing all the way up there.
3:00PM
I am sitting in the guard rail and it is getting very hot in the Sun. I am hoping any number of bikes passing me would stop and have what I needed, no such luck, but two did wave.
3:30 PM
The Buffalo Wings and my colon had a meeting and decided it was time for the Wings to go. I quickly went into my pack and found a plastic bag from WalMart that I left in there for some reason.
I waited for a break in traffic and sprinted to a clump of trees and brush on the center divider. I found a tree to lean against. I will tell you now a plastic bag has zero absorbency, but who cares at that point. The leaves on the plants around me looked suspicious, so that was not an option.
3:50 PM
I am now sitting on the guardrail calling the wife asking how far out she was when an 18 wheeler came by and just missed the bike, and the wind was enough to knock the bike on it’s side, while the wife is yelling she just made a wrong turn.
4:00 PM
A guy in a pick up with HD stickers all over it, pulls over and asks if I am OK. We pick up the bike and finally get it stable on the kickstand. Bids me good luck and pulls away.
About 10 minutes later an ambulance and the Fire Department arrive. They got a call that a bike and a car were in an accident. I explain that I am OK and what happened. The Paramedic decides I am getting dehydrated. The Firemen take me to the Firehouse to get an air tank; I retire to the restroom to clean up as best I can. I drink about 4 Cokes. And buy a round for the Firemen.
4:30 PM
We get back to the bike, and start inflating the tire, looks good, I get ¼ mile and it is flat again. We pump it up and I get almost to the exit, and we have to pump it back up. Long story short we make it to the Firehouse. I call the wife and tell her to meet me at the Firehouse. She arrives and I put the first can of Flat Fix in and it leaks out, I put in the second can in and no dice.
5:00 PM
I call my friend to bring his flat bed up, but it is out of commission. He calls another guy I know fairly well who says he will come and get me, but, he has to bring his friend. and it is dinner time and they are hungry and they have to pay a Dollar toll and there is gas, so he will come and get me for $100. I tell him politely to go F**K himself and forget about the body work he was gonna do for me.
5:15 PM
The Fireman tell me I can leave the bike in the firehouse overnight. I pull out my trusty Honda toolkit and start to pull the back wheel off without breaking the chain. I tell the wife I am gonna patch the tire, drag my Son out of bed early and I will ride this #$%* home.
7:30 PM I take a shower and realize the back of my jeans has a brown stain on the back. I have a nice dinner with the wife in which she explains how much I owe her for rescuing me, and the $100 bucks that pr1ck wanted starts to sound better to me now.
8:00 PM
I break out the tire irons and prepare to simply pull out the tube and patch it. Piece of cake.
10:00 PM
Finally get the freakin bead back on and turn in.
Sunday 8:00 AM
Wrestle the kid out of bed and run into my neighbor who rides his Harley about 50 miles a Month. Decides to lend a hand. So we hit the road.
10:00 AM
We get to the Firehouse, the Fire Chief greets me and asks if I am the guy with the flat tire. I am from the other NY so I was gonna say “no, I always carry a Motorcycle wheel”, but when you are Upstate they have a different sense of humor. I shake his hand, thank him for the rescue and hand him $100 donation check. It is a one engine Volunteer unit, so they always need money.
11:00 AM
No that the wheel is on, my neighbor decides to adjust the rear brake for me, since he is a City boy and too much greenery and Country folk make him nervous.
11:30
I am on I-84 and climbing the hills. The bike seems to have a bit less power but I am not concerned and just want to get home.
12:30 PM
I realize I have forgotten my EZ Pass so I will have to pay cash at the toll booth. I stop and the toll collector says “your back wheel is on fire”, and it is. I had put new sintered metal shoes on it two weeks prior and dragged the brake at 70 mph for 65 miles. I release the brake and forge on.
Postscript
This was 4 weeks ago, and I totally rebuilt the rear wheel including bearings, the cush rubbers I replaced last year, new sintered metal brake linings, tire and tube. It took me 2 weeks to gather the parts and get it all together. I learned how to replace wheel bearings, and to keep a travel pack of baby wipes in my backpack.
