contemplating the trip back east from san diego (my furthest western destination) didn’t hold the same excitement as the trek out west and even left me feeling somewhat apprehensive about starting out. regardless, i had to get going and i headed for central arizona. the air was cool until crossing the mountains and heading into the broad desert. dry winds and brutal sun slowly cooked me over the course of the day. by the time i reached phoenix, it was over 100 degrees and i was rather worn thin. i headed north toward sedona and flagstaff, rolling through redrock formations and evergreens, i found a cheap motel to crash for the night. looking in the mirror, i realized why the motel manager gave me a discount. my face was burnt, red, and bumpy and my eyes were so bloodshot that they bordered on yellow. it looked as if i had been welding wearing only a skimask. several cold rags, a long bath, a good meal and a day of relaxation in the mountains allowed full recovery time and again i was heading east.
flagstaff to albuquerque was cool, clear and smooth riding. once i fueled and filled my stomach with a snack, i got back on the highway and saw the lightening and dark clouds. thinking i might be able to ride around it, i kept going and hoped for the best. the wall of rain hit me and instantly i was soaked, pulled off the road to squeek into my raingear, then merged back into traffic with the blinding glare of the setting sun bouncing off the wet pavement and falling rain. rain turned into cold rain, then into exploding icy pellets of sleet. the storm formed a wide strip that extended as far as i could see into the east and covering almost exclusively the highway i was travelling with bright blue skies to the north and south. finding a rest area miles later, i pulled in and waited as the worst part of the rain moved on.
i followed on its tail, getting intermittent bursts from the clouds. a rainbow began forming, slowly completing its arc and gaining intensity as it formed a huge portal over the interstate. myriad intense hues of blue made up a swirling pattern of clouds in the center of the arch with a second ghost rainbow doubling the first and deep monochrome grey clouds bordering the outside edge. i found it hard not to keep staring up at the fabulous show in front of me and to put my focus on the
road. it faded and the sky moved toward darkness as i made my way to a rocky campground.
the trip through eastern NM, and the panhandles of TX and OK proved clear and uneventful and i proceeded to a small camp outside of wichita.
the next morning was drab with thunderstorms starting at 3am and continuing into central wichita. then i heard a heinous screech.
i pulled into a construction zone and unsucessfully tried to pinpoint the threatening noise. the metallic shriek came back soonafter i had reentered the roadway and i eased my way to a gas station. finding the only bmw dealer with the station’s yellow pages merely one mile down the same road was then on, i tried to start the bike. the starter would not engage and i was forced to push-start the bike down a wet street in fully suffocating rain gear. luckily the second push worked and i made my way to the motorcycle shop for a diagnosis.
the initial analysis showed the starter to be the problem (estimate:$450), but further inspection found the flywheel loose and flopping about (new estimate: easily $1000+ in parts and labor). ouch. my thoughts: repair? abandon? sell? load on a truck?
my trip which was originally going to be a figure ”8” through the US had with this rather traumatic mechanical breakdown, had been reduced to a figure ”S.”
luckily, i had an adventurous brother-in-law within 500 miles who decided to drive out and help me trailer the motorcycle back to IL, saving me quite a bit of cash (aat least for the moment) and a bit of sentimental heartbreak. he arrived the next morning and after eating brunch, grabbing a trailer, settling my bill at the moto shop, and loading the bike we headed out. about 10 miles into the heavy winds of kansas, smoke began to billow from the back of the broncoII and in answer to my question i was told ”no, this is not normal.” transmission fluid was pouring rapidly out of the bottom of the engine.
higher powers are once again gracious with mechanical failures, and we found that a ford dealership was only a half-mile walk away. we had the truck and trailer towed and, while sweating out the potential cost of replacing a seal (estimate: $500) plus the expense of a motel and the wait, found time to joke and fret.
amazingly the mechanic walked up to us about 15 minutes after closing time and said he had found and fixed the problem—-loose transmission oil pan bolts.
on the road again and 10 hours and many miles later we were back in southern IL.
though this trip ended abruptly and not as planned, i’m still left with an amazing slideshow of panoramas, people and experiences this summer as well as the desire to hit the road once again on a motorcycle.