Today Dave Lillard and I tore into the Ducati to see what caused my problem in Canada, my $3,000 problem. The Multistrada is actually pretty simple but for anything but the most basic service you have to pull lots of stuff off. Having done this a few times it was old hat. Soon the bike stood there naked like a....well you get the idea.
The first sign of trouble was the timing belt that was shredded.
Not good. Then we noticed that the vertical cam would not turn.
After pulling the rocker arm pins we were able to beat the cam out of the head. Yes, this should come out like a knife in butter but it ain't that way when the cam has welded itself to the head.
Take a look at the journal where the cam lives! You can see more of the problem by looking at the cam itself.
We were like two CSI detectives as we tore deeper and deeper into the engine,
finally splitting the cases to see the most private parts of my beloved 1000DS.
The good news is that the inside looks great.
I maintain that my good looks and clean living are the reason but Dave thinks that maybe the Rotella T full synthetic oil had something to do with this. Everything looks fine, pistons, jugs, gears, oil pump, crank, rods, and so on.
There was a tiny bit of swarf in the oil bypass valve (really just a metal reed) that could have diminished oil flow....maybe.
We were flummoxed!
Much later in the day Dave called. He thinks he knows what happened. When were taking the engine apart he pulled the oil screen and commented that it sure was loose, that it was not torqued in place. Now he thinks that the strainer backed out just enough to block the oil passage between the oil pump and the rest of the engine. Dave called DNA to consult and they agree, this will slowly block off the oil passage and starve the engine. Damn, all this because some idiot (me) did not properly torque down the stupid strainer. I guess I thought that the external plug blocking the strainer was there to keep the strainer in place. Man, that's an expensive lesson.
There is one other item that caused some question in my mind, the Amsoil oil filter did not look like it was passing oil correctly. Tomorrow I intend to cut the filter open to verify that the pressure relief valve was working correctly. That's a long shot but I want to look at the entire lubrication system to see if I had a series of problems or just two.
In the meantime, anyone with a spare vertical head for a 1000DS engine, please call me so we can talk!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Mark’s comments written July 5, using my notes
June 13, Saturday: First day without Peter – we miss him already. He’s a great traveling companion with interesting stories, good advice, and a good sense of humor. Peter really had no good options regarding his bike, from the time the oil light came on, to the time it died. Buying another bike to complete the trip would have been very costly. I can’t believe our Yamaha FJ 1300s are $21,000 in Canada (about $14,000 in Virginia and also in Fairbanks, Alaska, as we later discovered.)
Rode 480 miles in nice weather today. We got a room at a rustic motel/cabin arrangement for $75 – Toad River Lodge on the Al-Can Hwy between Fort Nelson and Watson Lake. The owner was a nice guy – came over to chat while we’re having a glass of our/Peter’s port at a picnic table overlooking the river. He grew up about 50 miles away in a really rugged area. While he still lived at home, he and his dad couldn’t figure out why they were constantly being bombarded with “problem bears” (blacks, not grizzlies.) His dad ended up shooting about 30 of them that summer – not against the law if they’re bothering your property or livestock. It turns out the Dept. of Fish and Game were capturing these “problem (nuisance) bears” in more populated areas, and releasing them on public land adjacent to his folk’s home! They found out about this release program a year later, and convinced the Dept to stop it because the bears were just being shot.
At dinner we chatted with a guy from Illinois who was on his way back from Alaska on his Buell Ulysses. He loved it, though did say he dropped it on the rode to Prudoe Bay – apparently there are some bad sections of gravel/mud. It took him a day to ride up, stayed at a “group hovel”, and a day back. David and I decide to take a pass on this idea.
June 14, Sunday: More great weather – it’s fun to be riding a bike, not stuck in a car, on days like this. Saw bear, moose and buffalo right next to the road today. Of the 3, I’d say buffalo have the lowest IQ. Stopped at the Sign Forrest in Watson Lake, where people from all over the world have been posting signs for years. Must have been a million signs. Had a crummy breakfast at a local truckstop. We saw the longest I-beam we’ve ever seen being hauled north for some bridge. Then hit the road again – some areas of road construction with lots of dust and gravel. When the semis come barreling at you, you’re in a “white out” due to a dust cloud. Made it to Whitehorse, Yukon and stopped at the Yukon Brewing Company prior to their closing for the day. They gave us a tasting of 7 beers – their darks were the best. I bought a hat, David a t-shirt, then off to a local hotel. Whitehorse is a neat town and a bit of a tourist attraction. Ate dinner at a 50’s style diner, listening to the oldies. I had a buffalo burger – a bit bland, no fat.
June 15, Monday: The time changes are great – we wake up “early,” with it being 3 hours later than Virginia. Alaska has it’s own time zone, which will make the difference 4 hours. The bikes are still running great – no oil use, tire pressure staying good, never overheating, etc. I love shaft drive. Bikes are definitely getting filthy. The day started out sunny, then hit intermittent rain for hours. Had a nice breakfast in Haines Junction – I had my usual 2 eggs over easy with some great Canadian bacon and hashbrowns, David had oatmeal as he was “egged-out” for now. Coffee was expensive ($2.95/cup) but the mug did warm the hands. Canadian coffee is similar to U.S. – weak and endless. Our waitress was obviously pregnant (a recurring theme on our trip. Odd.)
Met an interesting couple riding 2-up on a KLR. They were on their way back to California, having completed the Top-of-the-World Highway (from Dawson City, Yukon to Tetlin Junction, Alaska.) They had ridden every major “gravel type highway” in the western hemisphere – clear down to Chile. He said he loved riding in gravel – and had the bike with knobby tires to do it. He said our FJR’s could do that Top-of-the World too, but that there was a 20 mile stretch of mud where we’d have to put our feet out and stay in first gear. Doesn’t sound too inviting to us. Our goal was to get to Fairbanks and back, without dropping our bikes or getting injured.
Back on the Al-Can for our final push to Alaska. Good weather, but discovered a new hazard. When the road construction sign says “Fresh Gravel” (as opposed to “Loose Gravel”), be prepared to switch from being a road rider to a dirt rider. Fresh gravel has not yet bet rolled and compacted, so it’s a real challenge for heavy sport-touring bikes with street tires. We could only go 25 – 30 mph in that stuff. I don’t have dirt riding experience, but I recall reading somewhere (some guys who rode across Africa) that it’s best to get up on the pegs (to lower the center of gravity), lean back (to put more weight on the rear wheel) and to stay on the gas. Anyhow, we made it. I’m proud of David, who’s only been riding 3 years. (On one stretch, a Harley rider dropped his bike.)
We crossed into Alaska in good weather and posed by the welcome sign. Hooray! A high-five, and off we continued.
Twenty miles east of Tok, Alaska, we hit a 20-minute construction delay. We happened to be first in line, turned off our bikes and walked around. We met Pete, about 22-years old, on a KLR – he learned to ride 6 weeks previously and decided to ride to Alaska to visit his sister in Anchorage. His boots and gloves were not waterproof, but his coat and pants were. He was having a blast. Also chatted with Veronica, the “STOP” sign holder. She was an Alaskan native (Indian), grew up on some island off the Alaska coast, and this was strictly a summer job. She went back to the island the rest of the year. She had the longest hair I’d seen in years. She said, Yes, when I asked her if I could hold the STOP sign. (How many of you can say you’ve done that?) I asked her if she had voted for Sarah Palin – she said, No, she voted for Obama. (Where are all the Republicans?)
This was our longest day – 609 miles and 12.5 hours to Fairbanks, AK. We made it in 11 days. We were worn out that evening and almost paid the outrageous fee of $189 for a room at Holiday Inn Express, until I dug out the phone number Peter gave me to the dormitories of the Univ of Alaska. The pleasant girl on the phone said yes, motorcyclists are welcome and it would be $44/night. Our best deal of the trip thus far, especially since we were spending 2 nights. Thank you, Peter, for saving us about $300. Had dinner and stout beer at Brewsters, then hit the hay for 9 hours. We were so far north on the globe that it stays light outside all night in the summer – very strange. The darkest time of the night was 2:00 AM (“local midnight”), and you could still read a newspaper outdoors. Temperature was 65 at night, 75 during day, and sunny! We like Fairbanks.
June 16, Tuesday: While in Fairbanks, we went to Northern Powersports for new tires. Peter had called in advance to make sure they had our desired tires in stock (they did.) We have Dunlop Roadsmarts (dual compound tires – hard in the center, soft on the sides) on our Yamahas – after 5,000 miles they still look pretty good (maybe good for another 2500 miles) but we had pre-determined to swap them out since 90% of tire failures occur in the last 10% of a tire’s life.) It cost about $500/bike for front and rear tires with removal, mounting etc. (about $150 more than in Virginia.) They wanted $70 labor for an oil change. We declined, and did it ourselves on the outskirts of town. I had hauled two Yamaha oil filters up with us; we drained out the Valvoline 20W-50 Motorcycle oil and replaced it with Yamalube 20W50. It took us 10 minutes per bike, saving us $140.
By pure coincidence, Peter happened to call the motorcycle shop while we were sitting at the Service counter – he was calling to tell them he would not be needing his pre-ordered tires after all. The service rep told Peter that his two buddies were sitting right in front of him.
While the dealer had our bikes for the tire swap, we ate breakfast (nasty reindeer sausage) then took a taxi to the Museum of the North back near the university dormitory. It’s definitely worth seeing. After a taxi back, we rode our bikes to the Large Animal Research Center run by the University. This research farm had musk ox and caribou. Interesting creatures.
Dinner again at Brewster’s, then early to bed (remember, there is 4 hour time difference, though we were gradually switching our bodies over to the new time.)
June 17, Wednesday: Checked our tire pressure (a regular morning exercise) and found the dealer had under-inflated them about 6 lbs – we prefer 39 psi front, 42 rear. We were on the road by 6:50 AM to hit Denali National Park taking Route 3 (the George Parks Hwy.) It was partly sunny, which means it’s partly cloudy, and sure enough, the clouds obscured Mt. McKinley. They have a nice visitor center, though we declined the 6 hour bus tour – we had spoken with a group of Harley riders earlier that day at breakfast who had done the bus tour the prior day – many said it wasn’t worth it, though some loved it. Rode on to Talkaneet, AK where we spent the night at a motel. This is where you can catch flights to see Mt. McKinley from the air. With a light rain falling, only one plane could go up (the pilot was instrument rated –VFR?), the other pilots were not. David and I along with a retired couple from Minnesota went up with pilot Dave in a twin prop Piper Apache. The clouds were at 3,000 ft, Mt. McKinley is 20,000 ft, so once we popped through the cloud layer, the view was spectacular. We were so high up that we all had to wear oxygen masks. Dave pointed out 2 mountain climbers – you must be tough to do that. I believe 4 climbers had already died this year – two of which have yet to be found.
Had my best dinner at the West Rib Pub in Talkaneet – a halibut dish encrusted with almonds(?) and parmesan cheese. The beer was good, too. It’s a favorite pub for locals and mountain climbers.
June 18, Thursday: Woke up to hear my phone ringing at 4:45 AM – who would be calling me at that time? It was a good friend, Sam, from Roanoke, VA where it was 8:45 AM. For a good part of the trip, we don’t have any cell phone service.
Left under cloudy skies but thankfully, no rain. We contued south on Route 3, where we eventually turned north onto Route 1 (the Glenn Hwy, very scenic.) We followed this onto the Tok Cut Off, where we encountered rain outside of Tok. We pushed on, taking Route 2 to the Yukon line, where it turns into Route 1. We ended up staying at a fishing/hunting lodge at Burwash Landing Lodge in Yukon. A young boy named Zack assisted me at the gas pump. This is the place we met a (crazed?) motorcyclist aboard a BMW GS 1200, who had ridden from Key West, Florida to Prudoe Bay, and now he was on his way BACK TO KEY WEST! He was from Connecticut originally, and you may see him written up sometime for this feat. I believe he was taking 6 weeks to do this. Peter had told me a day or two earlier that some guy just broke Gary Egen’s record of 110 hours (Prudoe to Key West), cutting the time down to 88 hours. (Can you spell “amphetamines?”)
We paid for dinner with my VISA, which is a US Airways Frequent Fliers card with my picture on it (for security). The young waitress said, “Oh, so you’re a pilot.” I said, “Yes.” She then asked if David was a pilot also. I said, No, but was tempted to tell her he was my navigator.
June 19, Friday: This 586 mile day started out sunny, but the last 3 hours were probably my most miserable hours on the trip. We had decided to drop down through British Columbia on the east side of the Rockies, having taken the eastern route on the way up to Alaska. We picked up Route 37 at the Yukon/BC border. Big mistake. We hit rain and lots of road construction, which means MUD mixed with gravel. Around one curve I encountered a moose in the middle of the road. I slowed down (from a safe 45 mph) and fortunately the moose decided to lope off the road into the woods. We were running low on gas (there was a warning sign 100 km back) and found an above ground tank (the likes of which we had never seen before and initially drove past) in a wide spot in the rode known as Good Hope Lake. We proceeded to drive on to Dease Lake, BC, where battered and worn out, we got a room. We chatted with 2 bikers from Oklahoma – on yet another BMW GS 1200 and a V-Strom, two very popular models for trips to Alaska. In fact, we met only one other FJR rider – and he had been to an FJR rally in southern BC. The Molson tasted pretty good that evening.
June 20, Saturday: This was another rainy day. (I’m beginning to sense a pattern.) We left at 7:45 AM but fortunately only had about 10 miles of gravel/mud today – most of the highway was paved. We traveled 485 miles, which included two rain-slick wooden bridges on infamous Rt 37 (which in all fairness, is supposed to offer great scenery on sunny days.) Before we stopped for breakfast, we pulled over so David could put on electric gear (where did all the warm days go?) This is where I chatted with a guy with an RV – he used to ride a bike, in fact rode a 650 thumper (single cylinder bike) all the way down the Baja peninsula. That was before the stroke.
Rode out of the rain in Smithers, BC, where we found an RV/truck/car wash where we pressure washed the mud off our bikes (of course avoiding the wheel bearings.) This was $5 well spent.
Then on to Burns Lake where we stayed in an historic hotel, whose current owners are a cordial Asian couple. Walked across the street where we had our one and only Chinese (Vietnamese?) dinner of the trip. I’m not a big fan of that type of food, though it was tasty. After dinner, David was kind enough to walk down to a laundromat to do our one load while I researched our maps. (I’m a map guy, David’s a GPS guy. Younger generation.)
June 21, Sunday: We awoke to a beautiful and sunny day. We pushed hard to cover 560 miles, seeing great scenery along Rt 5 (Yellowhead Hwy.) This was almost as pretty as Banff and Jasper National Parks (located on the other side of the Rockies.) Ending up in downtown Chase, BC, we thought we had found the perfect resting spot – a neat historic hotel with an attached pub AND a liquor store. Unfortunately, the rooms were all being renovated, so we went down the road a half mile to another place which had a restaurant with good Italian food.
After dinner, we walked back to the historic hotel, where we had a beer and played foosball. On the wall was a picture taken of the hotel in the 50’s – and in the picture was a 1953 Hudson Hornet (a 4-door, mine was a 2-door.) Neat.
David has wished me a Happy Father’s day earlier in the day, Catherine called me on my cell phone in the evening. It was great to spend Father’s Day with my son on a great bike trip.
The only glitch with either bike was noticed today – the rear brake pedal switch was sticking in the ON position – must have gotten mud in it. I could easily turned it OFF by lifting the pedal with my toe.
June 22, Monday: Today was the day we made it back to the great U S of A. It took 472 miles of riding in the rain, mostly a light rain, but wet nevertheless. That did not stop us from visiting Glacier National Park in BC, Canada. We walked through an old (virgin) forest of giant cedars. The Mount Rogers Pass visitor center was nice. Cutting that railroad through the mountains was one heck of a task – fighting avalanches, etc. We rode through some snow sheds, which serve the purpose of tunnels by keeping snow and avalanches off the road. Those Canadians know how to keep a road open in the winter –more than we can say for the U.S. road crew at Glacier National Park in Montana.
We got a room at the Downtowner Inn in Whitefish, Montana. This is another neat town – one of our favorites. Had a few pubs to choose from within walking distance of the motel (one of Peter’s requirements.) Our choice was excellent – The Bulldog Pub. Peter called us while we were at the pub – gave him an update. It’s nice chatting with him (nearly every day.) It’s almost like he’s still with us.
June 23, Tuesday: We had heard about a heat wave hitting the U.S, and today we caught the tail end of it on Rt. 2. We decided to take a break for an ice cream treat in eastern Montana around 4:30 pm. It was sunny and hot, all the way to Williston, ND. The Miss North Dakota pageant had come and gone, but the best hotel was still nearly booked (as it had been on our way out.) The El Rancho Hotel had one room left and we gladly took it. The local hotels stay booked with all the oil drillers coming to that part of the country. There are a lot small oil wells all over Montana and North Dakota. When the price of a barrel of oil goes up enough, everybody starts drilling.
This was the day an older fellow on a Gold Wing pulled up to us at a rest stop. He was on his way to Alaska and had not decided on the ideal route. We gave him our opinion, and off he went.
June 24, Wednesday: David’s 23rd birthday! Good weather, a bit on the hot side, but no rain so we’re happy and ended up doing 560 miles. My butt gets a bit sore but not unbearable. I gave David my Airhawk seat pad to use a couple of weeks ago. We go about 160- 200 miles between gas stops. (The farthest we went was 219 miles while in Canada – close to our max.) It’s always nice to get off and rest your butt.
We took a 21 mile detour south while in Minnesota to see the headwaters of the Mississippi River. My SIDI boots are truly waterproof, as I did test them. The other tourists in their bathing suits/cut offs stared at me when I simply waded in with my Aerostich pants and boots on.
We parked it in Grand Rapids, MN that evening, staying at the same motel as we did with Peter. This time we decided to eat at the “restaurant with a bar” rather than at the “bar with a restaurant”. Being David’s birthday, we treated ourselves to great filet mignons – smothered in Maytag blue cheese - one of our most memorable meals. Then we walked across the street to Clementine’s for some birthday drinks. The (pregnant) waitress who worked on our prior visit (Peter’s birthday) wasn’t working that night. David did order a bottle of the infamous Grain Belt Beer. I’d like to see how they train the mules to piss in those bottle.
Wisely, David had a shot of Jack and I a shot of Peppermint Schnapps to get the taste out of our mouths. In bed by 10:15.
June 25,26,27 Thursday – Saturday: We took an easy and scenic ride north along Rt. 36 to see my cousin, Sue, who owns a fishing lodge in upstate Minnesota. It’s on Turtle Lake, between Marcell and Big Fork. What a nice place. It was an historic resort, and she purchased the lodge and 4 cabins 9 years ago. She’s totally restored them and they’re gorgeous. We got to meet two of her children, Jordan (age 20) and Jacob (age 18) along with her boyfriend/business partner/outfitter/fishing guide, Mike. Two of Sue’s grandchildren (Daryl and Jack) were visiting from Illinois. Jacob and his buddy were wrenching on their Yamaha 4-wheelers (a big sport up north.) Unfortunately, Jacob’s motor (a 636cc) seized up while we were there (oil problem most likely. Sounds familiar, Peter?) He decided to part it out. Bummer.
We caught rock bass and bluegills off the dock but no serious fishing. We did pull Jordan and David on their “tubes” behind Mike’s bass boat – a Skeeter with a 250 hp two stroke Yamaha VMax motor. Playing “crack the whip” was a blast with them. We toured the lake on their pontoon boat – it’s a crystal clear lake known for small mouth bass and walleye. Mike caught a 6-lb smallmouth one morning while we were there. David and I took canoes out with the grandkids, which was fun and relaxing.
David and I had our own cabin – full of mounted trophy fish and wildlife. Sue cooked three meals per day (though I did treat everyone to dinner one night at a neighboring resort.) The “resorts” on these lakes are a bit rugged – at least compared to what we’re used to in the Caribbean.
The mosquitoes weren’t bad – a few horse flies were worse. We never did break out our mosquito netting during the entire trip.
We had a nice bonfire one night near the lake edge. The kids made s’mores. The loons were calling out their distinctive “cry.”
Thursday and Friday were sunny and warm (80), but the rain returned on Saturday. Too windy to take the boats or canoes out that day.
June 28, Sunday: We said our goodbyes to cousin Sue and our new friends. We left under cloudy skies and lots of wind. We crossed that infamous Duluth bridge, but the wind was not as bad today, plus it wasn’t raining. We took Rt 53 south to Eau Claire, Wisconsin where we picked up I-94 for awhile. We generally detest and avoid interstates, but we were trying to make time to see my other cousins in Illinois (and to get home.) We stopped to see The Wisconsin Dells, which my parents enjoyed going to in their youth. We were not impressed, a bit like Gatlinburg, Tennessee, with waterparks, etc. We did stop to buy some delicious Wisconsin cheese.
Today’s 530 mile trip took us through Rockfort, IL, which is really run down. Since I didn’t have an Illinois map, I let David’s GPS take us along the Rock River to the Paddle Wheel Inn near Dixon, IL. We had great steaks and a bottle of Australian Shiraz at The Steak Pit, located across the street. Our courteous waitress was from Albania though she spoke good English. The owner was Greek and suggested a great after dinner drink – the Greek version of port. I had them write the name down.
June 29, Monday: A nice sunny morning to continue our ride along the Rock River. We went through Dixon, IL and got our pictures next to the best president of my lifetime, Ronald Reagan, who spent part of his childhood here. Then on to the tiny town of Seatonville, IL (pop. 350) to visit with my Aunt Bert (Sue’s mother) and cousins John and Patti. John shared his photos of his African safari, which makes the bear experiences in Alaska seem very tame.
We stopped at the Catholic cemetery to pay respect at the gravesites of my maternal grandparents, John and Catherine Schultz, their son (Sue’s father) Raymond Schultz, and my mother’s sister and her husband, Evie and Harold Dauck.
From there we drove to Peru, IL. (population 9,900.) where I had spent many a summer with my grandparents and cousins. Cruising down Market Street, past my grandparent’s house, brought back lots of good memories. The next street over lives my younger cousin, Jim, retired since age 45 with a full pension since working for a union that helped build a nuclear power plant south of Chicago. He has a nice garden of dill, garlic, tomatoes and peppers.
We cruised around Peru and then the adjoining town of LaSalle (where my dad was raised), visiting old familiar sites. We stopped at the Peru Pool, where my parents first met back in the 40’s after my dad was discharged from the Army Air Corp.
We hook up with my cousins Jim and John, spending the night at John’s in Ogelsby, IL. John shows me his garden and digs up a few garlic plants for me to take back to Virginia to plant this fall. At a neighborhood tavern, a bar patron and friend of John’s hears of my interest in growing garlic and proceeds to exit the tavern, walk 2 blocks home and returns with a few of his Italian style garlic plants for me to plant. I’ll need to strap these odiferous plants on the back of my bike rather than in luggage with my clothes.
June 30, Tuesday: Between cousin John arising at 3:30 AM to get ready for work, “Buddy,” his barking Dachshund, and Peter’s 6:00 AM phone call, it was not a restful night of sleep. (Peter forgot about the time change. He’s forgiven.)
Peter tells me he might ride over to Roanoke Wednesday to greet us if our/his schedules can coordinate. That would be nice. (Unfortunately, we couldn’t make the rendezvous work.)
We take Rt. 51 south to Rt 50 east – lots of corn being grown in this part of the country (in contrast to wheat and barley in North Dakota and Montana.) After cruising the hilly region of southern Indiana (roads with curves!), we catch the 5:00 rush in Louisville, KY on Rt 64 east/265 south. Route 150/31E takes us to the historic town of Bardstown, KY, the start of the famed BourbonTrail. The room was comfortable at the Bardstown Parkview Motel, and was next door to an old family restaurant – Kurtz’s. This is where I had a delicious dinner of Kentucky country ham with red eye gravy and their special dessert – bourbon soaked biscuit pudding. A pleasant evening sky, temp around 70 and the promise of more good weather tomorrow.
July 1, Wednesday: After eating a continental breakfast at the motel, we pack for our final day on the road. We select the Maker’s Mark Distillery tour in a nearby Loretto, KY and we were not disappointed. We learned some neat things about distilling bourbon and got a free tasting at the end of the tour. The final product is aged about 5 years and is 90 proof. It tastes much better than the 130 proof white lightening that is initially poured into the oak barrels prior to aging. We bought some souvenirs, including a bottle of Maker’s Mark which I got to hand dip in their signature red wax.
After having their small sample of rocket fuel, we’re ready to blast off for Roanoke and home. I can’t wait to see Beth after being gone almost 4 weeks.
The roads are definitely more twisty in Kentucky and West Virginia, as we take Rt. 150 east to the Hal Rogers Parkway to Rt. 83, ending up on familiar Rt. 460 near Grundy, VA.
The first meal of our trip was at a Bob Evans, so it was only fitting that we ate another one, this one in Bluefield, VA. I’ve never had a bad meal at Bob Evans.
After a 450 mile day, with NO RAIN, we pull into our driveway in Roanoke, with Beth ready with a camera. We made it! David’s GPS has it at 10,240 miles. Time for a cold Sierra Nevada Pale Ale!
We called Peter to let him know we made it home. He was tied up with the Portsmouth motorcycle exhibit, sailing, and Fourth of July festivities so he could not make it to Roanoke to greet us.
It was one heck of a trip – beautiful scenery, neat wildlife, interesting people, serious motorcycle miles racked up, and got to spend a lot of time with my son.
I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Rode 480 miles in nice weather today. We got a room at a rustic motel/cabin arrangement for $75 – Toad River Lodge on the Al-Can Hwy between Fort Nelson and Watson Lake. The owner was a nice guy – came over to chat while we’re having a glass of our/Peter’s port at a picnic table overlooking the river. He grew up about 50 miles away in a really rugged area. While he still lived at home, he and his dad couldn’t figure out why they were constantly being bombarded with “problem bears” (blacks, not grizzlies.) His dad ended up shooting about 30 of them that summer – not against the law if they’re bothering your property or livestock. It turns out the Dept. of Fish and Game were capturing these “problem (nuisance) bears” in more populated areas, and releasing them on public land adjacent to his folk’s home! They found out about this release program a year later, and convinced the Dept to stop it because the bears were just being shot.
At dinner we chatted with a guy from Illinois who was on his way back from Alaska on his Buell Ulysses. He loved it, though did say he dropped it on the rode to Prudoe Bay – apparently there are some bad sections of gravel/mud. It took him a day to ride up, stayed at a “group hovel”, and a day back. David and I decide to take a pass on this idea.
June 14, Sunday: More great weather – it’s fun to be riding a bike, not stuck in a car, on days like this. Saw bear, moose and buffalo right next to the road today. Of the 3, I’d say buffalo have the lowest IQ. Stopped at the Sign Forrest in Watson Lake, where people from all over the world have been posting signs for years. Must have been a million signs. Had a crummy breakfast at a local truckstop. We saw the longest I-beam we’ve ever seen being hauled north for some bridge. Then hit the road again – some areas of road construction with lots of dust and gravel. When the semis come barreling at you, you’re in a “white out” due to a dust cloud. Made it to Whitehorse, Yukon and stopped at the Yukon Brewing Company prior to their closing for the day. They gave us a tasting of 7 beers – their darks were the best. I bought a hat, David a t-shirt, then off to a local hotel. Whitehorse is a neat town and a bit of a tourist attraction. Ate dinner at a 50’s style diner, listening to the oldies. I had a buffalo burger – a bit bland, no fat.
June 15, Monday: The time changes are great – we wake up “early,” with it being 3 hours later than Virginia. Alaska has it’s own time zone, which will make the difference 4 hours. The bikes are still running great – no oil use, tire pressure staying good, never overheating, etc. I love shaft drive. Bikes are definitely getting filthy. The day started out sunny, then hit intermittent rain for hours. Had a nice breakfast in Haines Junction – I had my usual 2 eggs over easy with some great Canadian bacon and hashbrowns, David had oatmeal as he was “egged-out” for now. Coffee was expensive ($2.95/cup) but the mug did warm the hands. Canadian coffee is similar to U.S. – weak and endless. Our waitress was obviously pregnant (a recurring theme on our trip. Odd.)
Met an interesting couple riding 2-up on a KLR. They were on their way back to California, having completed the Top-of-the-World Highway (from Dawson City, Yukon to Tetlin Junction, Alaska.) They had ridden every major “gravel type highway” in the western hemisphere – clear down to Chile. He said he loved riding in gravel – and had the bike with knobby tires to do it. He said our FJR’s could do that Top-of-the World too, but that there was a 20 mile stretch of mud where we’d have to put our feet out and stay in first gear. Doesn’t sound too inviting to us. Our goal was to get to Fairbanks and back, without dropping our bikes or getting injured.
Back on the Al-Can for our final push to Alaska. Good weather, but discovered a new hazard. When the road construction sign says “Fresh Gravel” (as opposed to “Loose Gravel”), be prepared to switch from being a road rider to a dirt rider. Fresh gravel has not yet bet rolled and compacted, so it’s a real challenge for heavy sport-touring bikes with street tires. We could only go 25 – 30 mph in that stuff. I don’t have dirt riding experience, but I recall reading somewhere (some guys who rode across Africa) that it’s best to get up on the pegs (to lower the center of gravity), lean back (to put more weight on the rear wheel) and to stay on the gas. Anyhow, we made it. I’m proud of David, who’s only been riding 3 years. (On one stretch, a Harley rider dropped his bike.)
We crossed into Alaska in good weather and posed by the welcome sign. Hooray! A high-five, and off we continued.
Twenty miles east of Tok, Alaska, we hit a 20-minute construction delay. We happened to be first in line, turned off our bikes and walked around. We met Pete, about 22-years old, on a KLR – he learned to ride 6 weeks previously and decided to ride to Alaska to visit his sister in Anchorage. His boots and gloves were not waterproof, but his coat and pants were. He was having a blast. Also chatted with Veronica, the “STOP” sign holder. She was an Alaskan native (Indian), grew up on some island off the Alaska coast, and this was strictly a summer job. She went back to the island the rest of the year. She had the longest hair I’d seen in years. She said, Yes, when I asked her if I could hold the STOP sign. (How many of you can say you’ve done that?) I asked her if she had voted for Sarah Palin – she said, No, she voted for Obama. (Where are all the Republicans?)
This was our longest day – 609 miles and 12.5 hours to Fairbanks, AK. We made it in 11 days. We were worn out that evening and almost paid the outrageous fee of $189 for a room at Holiday Inn Express, until I dug out the phone number Peter gave me to the dormitories of the Univ of Alaska. The pleasant girl on the phone said yes, motorcyclists are welcome and it would be $44/night. Our best deal of the trip thus far, especially since we were spending 2 nights. Thank you, Peter, for saving us about $300. Had dinner and stout beer at Brewsters, then hit the hay for 9 hours. We were so far north on the globe that it stays light outside all night in the summer – very strange. The darkest time of the night was 2:00 AM (“local midnight”), and you could still read a newspaper outdoors. Temperature was 65 at night, 75 during day, and sunny! We like Fairbanks.
June 16, Tuesday: While in Fairbanks, we went to Northern Powersports for new tires. Peter had called in advance to make sure they had our desired tires in stock (they did.) We have Dunlop Roadsmarts (dual compound tires – hard in the center, soft on the sides) on our Yamahas – after 5,000 miles they still look pretty good (maybe good for another 2500 miles) but we had pre-determined to swap them out since 90% of tire failures occur in the last 10% of a tire’s life.) It cost about $500/bike for front and rear tires with removal, mounting etc. (about $150 more than in Virginia.) They wanted $70 labor for an oil change. We declined, and did it ourselves on the outskirts of town. I had hauled two Yamaha oil filters up with us; we drained out the Valvoline 20W-50 Motorcycle oil and replaced it with Yamalube 20W50. It took us 10 minutes per bike, saving us $140.
By pure coincidence, Peter happened to call the motorcycle shop while we were sitting at the Service counter – he was calling to tell them he would not be needing his pre-ordered tires after all. The service rep told Peter that his two buddies were sitting right in front of him.
While the dealer had our bikes for the tire swap, we ate breakfast (nasty reindeer sausage) then took a taxi to the Museum of the North back near the university dormitory. It’s definitely worth seeing. After a taxi back, we rode our bikes to the Large Animal Research Center run by the University. This research farm had musk ox and caribou. Interesting creatures.
Dinner again at Brewster’s, then early to bed (remember, there is 4 hour time difference, though we were gradually switching our bodies over to the new time.)
June 17, Wednesday: Checked our tire pressure (a regular morning exercise) and found the dealer had under-inflated them about 6 lbs – we prefer 39 psi front, 42 rear. We were on the road by 6:50 AM to hit Denali National Park taking Route 3 (the George Parks Hwy.) It was partly sunny, which means it’s partly cloudy, and sure enough, the clouds obscured Mt. McKinley. They have a nice visitor center, though we declined the 6 hour bus tour – we had spoken with a group of Harley riders earlier that day at breakfast who had done the bus tour the prior day – many said it wasn’t worth it, though some loved it. Rode on to Talkaneet, AK where we spent the night at a motel. This is where you can catch flights to see Mt. McKinley from the air. With a light rain falling, only one plane could go up (the pilot was instrument rated –VFR?), the other pilots were not. David and I along with a retired couple from Minnesota went up with pilot Dave in a twin prop Piper Apache. The clouds were at 3,000 ft, Mt. McKinley is 20,000 ft, so once we popped through the cloud layer, the view was spectacular. We were so high up that we all had to wear oxygen masks. Dave pointed out 2 mountain climbers – you must be tough to do that. I believe 4 climbers had already died this year – two of which have yet to be found.
Had my best dinner at the West Rib Pub in Talkaneet – a halibut dish encrusted with almonds(?) and parmesan cheese. The beer was good, too. It’s a favorite pub for locals and mountain climbers.
June 18, Thursday: Woke up to hear my phone ringing at 4:45 AM – who would be calling me at that time? It was a good friend, Sam, from Roanoke, VA where it was 8:45 AM. For a good part of the trip, we don’t have any cell phone service.
Left under cloudy skies but thankfully, no rain. We contued south on Route 3, where we eventually turned north onto Route 1 (the Glenn Hwy, very scenic.) We followed this onto the Tok Cut Off, where we encountered rain outside of Tok. We pushed on, taking Route 2 to the Yukon line, where it turns into Route 1. We ended up staying at a fishing/hunting lodge at Burwash Landing Lodge in Yukon. A young boy named Zack assisted me at the gas pump. This is the place we met a (crazed?) motorcyclist aboard a BMW GS 1200, who had ridden from Key West, Florida to Prudoe Bay, and now he was on his way BACK TO KEY WEST! He was from Connecticut originally, and you may see him written up sometime for this feat. I believe he was taking 6 weeks to do this. Peter had told me a day or two earlier that some guy just broke Gary Egen’s record of 110 hours (Prudoe to Key West), cutting the time down to 88 hours. (Can you spell “amphetamines?”)
We paid for dinner with my VISA, which is a US Airways Frequent Fliers card with my picture on it (for security). The young waitress said, “Oh, so you’re a pilot.” I said, “Yes.” She then asked if David was a pilot also. I said, No, but was tempted to tell her he was my navigator.
June 19, Friday: This 586 mile day started out sunny, but the last 3 hours were probably my most miserable hours on the trip. We had decided to drop down through British Columbia on the east side of the Rockies, having taken the eastern route on the way up to Alaska. We picked up Route 37 at the Yukon/BC border. Big mistake. We hit rain and lots of road construction, which means MUD mixed with gravel. Around one curve I encountered a moose in the middle of the road. I slowed down (from a safe 45 mph) and fortunately the moose decided to lope off the road into the woods. We were running low on gas (there was a warning sign 100 km back) and found an above ground tank (the likes of which we had never seen before and initially drove past) in a wide spot in the rode known as Good Hope Lake. We proceeded to drive on to Dease Lake, BC, where battered and worn out, we got a room. We chatted with 2 bikers from Oklahoma – on yet another BMW GS 1200 and a V-Strom, two very popular models for trips to Alaska. In fact, we met only one other FJR rider – and he had been to an FJR rally in southern BC. The Molson tasted pretty good that evening.
June 20, Saturday: This was another rainy day. (I’m beginning to sense a pattern.) We left at 7:45 AM but fortunately only had about 10 miles of gravel/mud today – most of the highway was paved. We traveled 485 miles, which included two rain-slick wooden bridges on infamous Rt 37 (which in all fairness, is supposed to offer great scenery on sunny days.) Before we stopped for breakfast, we pulled over so David could put on electric gear (where did all the warm days go?) This is where I chatted with a guy with an RV – he used to ride a bike, in fact rode a 650 thumper (single cylinder bike) all the way down the Baja peninsula. That was before the stroke.
Rode out of the rain in Smithers, BC, where we found an RV/truck/car wash where we pressure washed the mud off our bikes (of course avoiding the wheel bearings.) This was $5 well spent.
Then on to Burns Lake where we stayed in an historic hotel, whose current owners are a cordial Asian couple. Walked across the street where we had our one and only Chinese (Vietnamese?) dinner of the trip. I’m not a big fan of that type of food, though it was tasty. After dinner, David was kind enough to walk down to a laundromat to do our one load while I researched our maps. (I’m a map guy, David’s a GPS guy. Younger generation.)
June 21, Sunday: We awoke to a beautiful and sunny day. We pushed hard to cover 560 miles, seeing great scenery along Rt 5 (Yellowhead Hwy.) This was almost as pretty as Banff and Jasper National Parks (located on the other side of the Rockies.) Ending up in downtown Chase, BC, we thought we had found the perfect resting spot – a neat historic hotel with an attached pub AND a liquor store. Unfortunately, the rooms were all being renovated, so we went down the road a half mile to another place which had a restaurant with good Italian food.
After dinner, we walked back to the historic hotel, where we had a beer and played foosball. On the wall was a picture taken of the hotel in the 50’s – and in the picture was a 1953 Hudson Hornet (a 4-door, mine was a 2-door.) Neat.
David has wished me a Happy Father’s day earlier in the day, Catherine called me on my cell phone in the evening. It was great to spend Father’s Day with my son on a great bike trip.
The only glitch with either bike was noticed today – the rear brake pedal switch was sticking in the ON position – must have gotten mud in it. I could easily turned it OFF by lifting the pedal with my toe.
June 22, Monday: Today was the day we made it back to the great U S of A. It took 472 miles of riding in the rain, mostly a light rain, but wet nevertheless. That did not stop us from visiting Glacier National Park in BC, Canada. We walked through an old (virgin) forest of giant cedars. The Mount Rogers Pass visitor center was nice. Cutting that railroad through the mountains was one heck of a task – fighting avalanches, etc. We rode through some snow sheds, which serve the purpose of tunnels by keeping snow and avalanches off the road. Those Canadians know how to keep a road open in the winter –more than we can say for the U.S. road crew at Glacier National Park in Montana.
We got a room at the Downtowner Inn in Whitefish, Montana. This is another neat town – one of our favorites. Had a few pubs to choose from within walking distance of the motel (one of Peter’s requirements.) Our choice was excellent – The Bulldog Pub. Peter called us while we were at the pub – gave him an update. It’s nice chatting with him (nearly every day.) It’s almost like he’s still with us.
June 23, Tuesday: We had heard about a heat wave hitting the U.S, and today we caught the tail end of it on Rt. 2. We decided to take a break for an ice cream treat in eastern Montana around 4:30 pm. It was sunny and hot, all the way to Williston, ND. The Miss North Dakota pageant had come and gone, but the best hotel was still nearly booked (as it had been on our way out.) The El Rancho Hotel had one room left and we gladly took it. The local hotels stay booked with all the oil drillers coming to that part of the country. There are a lot small oil wells all over Montana and North Dakota. When the price of a barrel of oil goes up enough, everybody starts drilling.
This was the day an older fellow on a Gold Wing pulled up to us at a rest stop. He was on his way to Alaska and had not decided on the ideal route. We gave him our opinion, and off he went.
June 24, Wednesday: David’s 23rd birthday! Good weather, a bit on the hot side, but no rain so we’re happy and ended up doing 560 miles. My butt gets a bit sore but not unbearable. I gave David my Airhawk seat pad to use a couple of weeks ago. We go about 160- 200 miles between gas stops. (The farthest we went was 219 miles while in Canada – close to our max.) It’s always nice to get off and rest your butt.
We took a 21 mile detour south while in Minnesota to see the headwaters of the Mississippi River. My SIDI boots are truly waterproof, as I did test them. The other tourists in their bathing suits/cut offs stared at me when I simply waded in with my Aerostich pants and boots on.
We parked it in Grand Rapids, MN that evening, staying at the same motel as we did with Peter. This time we decided to eat at the “restaurant with a bar” rather than at the “bar with a restaurant”. Being David’s birthday, we treated ourselves to great filet mignons – smothered in Maytag blue cheese - one of our most memorable meals. Then we walked across the street to Clementine’s for some birthday drinks. The (pregnant) waitress who worked on our prior visit (Peter’s birthday) wasn’t working that night. David did order a bottle of the infamous Grain Belt Beer. I’d like to see how they train the mules to piss in those bottle.
Wisely, David had a shot of Jack and I a shot of Peppermint Schnapps to get the taste out of our mouths. In bed by 10:15.
June 25,26,27 Thursday – Saturday: We took an easy and scenic ride north along Rt. 36 to see my cousin, Sue, who owns a fishing lodge in upstate Minnesota. It’s on Turtle Lake, between Marcell and Big Fork. What a nice place. It was an historic resort, and she purchased the lodge and 4 cabins 9 years ago. She’s totally restored them and they’re gorgeous. We got to meet two of her children, Jordan (age 20) and Jacob (age 18) along with her boyfriend/business partner/outfitter/fishing guide, Mike. Two of Sue’s grandchildren (Daryl and Jack) were visiting from Illinois. Jacob and his buddy were wrenching on their Yamaha 4-wheelers (a big sport up north.) Unfortunately, Jacob’s motor (a 636cc) seized up while we were there (oil problem most likely. Sounds familiar, Peter?) He decided to part it out. Bummer.
We caught rock bass and bluegills off the dock but no serious fishing. We did pull Jordan and David on their “tubes” behind Mike’s bass boat – a Skeeter with a 250 hp two stroke Yamaha VMax motor. Playing “crack the whip” was a blast with them. We toured the lake on their pontoon boat – it’s a crystal clear lake known for small mouth bass and walleye. Mike caught a 6-lb smallmouth one morning while we were there. David and I took canoes out with the grandkids, which was fun and relaxing.
David and I had our own cabin – full of mounted trophy fish and wildlife. Sue cooked three meals per day (though I did treat everyone to dinner one night at a neighboring resort.) The “resorts” on these lakes are a bit rugged – at least compared to what we’re used to in the Caribbean.
The mosquitoes weren’t bad – a few horse flies were worse. We never did break out our mosquito netting during the entire trip.
We had a nice bonfire one night near the lake edge. The kids made s’mores. The loons were calling out their distinctive “cry.”
Thursday and Friday were sunny and warm (80), but the rain returned on Saturday. Too windy to take the boats or canoes out that day.
June 28, Sunday: We said our goodbyes to cousin Sue and our new friends. We left under cloudy skies and lots of wind. We crossed that infamous Duluth bridge, but the wind was not as bad today, plus it wasn’t raining. We took Rt 53 south to Eau Claire, Wisconsin where we picked up I-94 for awhile. We generally detest and avoid interstates, but we were trying to make time to see my other cousins in Illinois (and to get home.) We stopped to see The Wisconsin Dells, which my parents enjoyed going to in their youth. We were not impressed, a bit like Gatlinburg, Tennessee, with waterparks, etc. We did stop to buy some delicious Wisconsin cheese.
Today’s 530 mile trip took us through Rockfort, IL, which is really run down. Since I didn’t have an Illinois map, I let David’s GPS take us along the Rock River to the Paddle Wheel Inn near Dixon, IL. We had great steaks and a bottle of Australian Shiraz at The Steak Pit, located across the street. Our courteous waitress was from Albania though she spoke good English. The owner was Greek and suggested a great after dinner drink – the Greek version of port. I had them write the name down.
June 29, Monday: A nice sunny morning to continue our ride along the Rock River. We went through Dixon, IL and got our pictures next to the best president of my lifetime, Ronald Reagan, who spent part of his childhood here. Then on to the tiny town of Seatonville, IL (pop. 350) to visit with my Aunt Bert (Sue’s mother) and cousins John and Patti. John shared his photos of his African safari, which makes the bear experiences in Alaska seem very tame.
We stopped at the Catholic cemetery to pay respect at the gravesites of my maternal grandparents, John and Catherine Schultz, their son (Sue’s father) Raymond Schultz, and my mother’s sister and her husband, Evie and Harold Dauck.
From there we drove to Peru, IL. (population 9,900.) where I had spent many a summer with my grandparents and cousins. Cruising down Market Street, past my grandparent’s house, brought back lots of good memories. The next street over lives my younger cousin, Jim, retired since age 45 with a full pension since working for a union that helped build a nuclear power plant south of Chicago. He has a nice garden of dill, garlic, tomatoes and peppers.
We cruised around Peru and then the adjoining town of LaSalle (where my dad was raised), visiting old familiar sites. We stopped at the Peru Pool, where my parents first met back in the 40’s after my dad was discharged from the Army Air Corp.
We hook up with my cousins Jim and John, spending the night at John’s in Ogelsby, IL. John shows me his garden and digs up a few garlic plants for me to take back to Virginia to plant this fall. At a neighborhood tavern, a bar patron and friend of John’s hears of my interest in growing garlic and proceeds to exit the tavern, walk 2 blocks home and returns with a few of his Italian style garlic plants for me to plant. I’ll need to strap these odiferous plants on the back of my bike rather than in luggage with my clothes.
June 30, Tuesday: Between cousin John arising at 3:30 AM to get ready for work, “Buddy,” his barking Dachshund, and Peter’s 6:00 AM phone call, it was not a restful night of sleep. (Peter forgot about the time change. He’s forgiven.)
Peter tells me he might ride over to Roanoke Wednesday to greet us if our/his schedules can coordinate. That would be nice. (Unfortunately, we couldn’t make the rendezvous work.)
We take Rt. 51 south to Rt 50 east – lots of corn being grown in this part of the country (in contrast to wheat and barley in North Dakota and Montana.) After cruising the hilly region of southern Indiana (roads with curves!), we catch the 5:00 rush in Louisville, KY on Rt 64 east/265 south. Route 150/31E takes us to the historic town of Bardstown, KY, the start of the famed BourbonTrail. The room was comfortable at the Bardstown Parkview Motel, and was next door to an old family restaurant – Kurtz’s. This is where I had a delicious dinner of Kentucky country ham with red eye gravy and their special dessert – bourbon soaked biscuit pudding. A pleasant evening sky, temp around 70 and the promise of more good weather tomorrow.
July 1, Wednesday: After eating a continental breakfast at the motel, we pack for our final day on the road. We select the Maker’s Mark Distillery tour in a nearby Loretto, KY and we were not disappointed. We learned some neat things about distilling bourbon and got a free tasting at the end of the tour. The final product is aged about 5 years and is 90 proof. It tastes much better than the 130 proof white lightening that is initially poured into the oak barrels prior to aging. We bought some souvenirs, including a bottle of Maker’s Mark which I got to hand dip in their signature red wax.
After having their small sample of rocket fuel, we’re ready to blast off for Roanoke and home. I can’t wait to see Beth after being gone almost 4 weeks.
The roads are definitely more twisty in Kentucky and West Virginia, as we take Rt. 150 east to the Hal Rogers Parkway to Rt. 83, ending up on familiar Rt. 460 near Grundy, VA.
The first meal of our trip was at a Bob Evans, so it was only fitting that we ate another one, this one in Bluefield, VA. I’ve never had a bad meal at Bob Evans.
After a 450 mile day, with NO RAIN, we pull into our driveway in Roanoke, with Beth ready with a camera. We made it! David’s GPS has it at 10,240 miles. Time for a cold Sierra Nevada Pale Ale!
We called Peter to let him know we made it home. He was tied up with the Portsmouth motorcycle exhibit, sailing, and Fourth of July festivities so he could not make it to Roanoke to greet us.
It was one heck of a trip – beautiful scenery, neat wildlife, interesting people, serious motorcycle miles racked up, and got to spend a lot of time with my son.
I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
9 Aug
Miracle of miracles, the bike arrived on Thursday! She is no worse for wear from her travel through Canada and into the USA other than no ignition key. Good thing I have a spare. On Friday I took the bike to Yorktown so Dave Lillard can open up the engine and determine what went wrong. He's out of town until next week so I hope to have something to report on Tuesday. This is like waiting for Christmas but with a bit of dread mixed in with the anticipation.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
4 Aug
Progress is a slippery word, it can mean that a big change has been made or that only the tiniest change has happened. We made big progress yesterday when my bike finally cleared US Customs in Buffalo, NY. Today the bike is in New Jersey, soon to be in North Carolina (different trucking company at each stop?) and they will call to arrange delivery to my house. If you have been keeping track this is about 7 weeks to ship the bike from Canada to Virginia at a cost of $1200.
As an aside, I guess I should consider my self lucky. Today I was told that the dealer in Edmonton actually held my bike hostage for about two weeks until he settled up with the shipping company. Remember that the dealer's staff loaded the wrong bike and later caught the error. Then the dealer did not want to pay the published rate for having his bike returned. That's when my bike became a hostage. At any rate the dust settled and my motorcycle is finally within 500 miles of home.
As an aside, I guess I should consider my self lucky. Today I was told that the dealer in Edmonton actually held my bike hostage for about two weeks until he settled up with the shipping company. Remember that the dealer's staff loaded the wrong bike and later caught the error. Then the dealer did not want to pay the published rate for having his bike returned. That's when my bike became a hostage. At any rate the dust settled and my motorcycle is finally within 500 miles of home.
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