Ovarian Cancer - The Ride for Awareness: The things I break

The diagnosis is in on the bike, and being I ride a semi-rare, semi-unpopular BMW 1200CLC, finding the correct parts are no small task. So after being dropped off at the Plano TX BMW dealership at 2:15am, and dumping the bike at the back door, hiding the key for the techs, and having a surprisingly spry El'Harmon pick me up....The bike will need a new final drive (or what would be called a drive shaft and it's respective parts). Now if I was riding just about any make or model of bike, say a Harley or a Honda, there would be 300 of these final drives available within 20 square miles. Instead, I ride a German built bike, and only TWO of these final drives are available, in the entire BMW service world. To boot, they're in Germany. So I have a 7 day wait for shipping then about a day for install. I should have known I was in trouble when the the tow driver noted that he had never seen or heard of a BMW motorcycle. He was 41 and had been in the tow business since he was 14 years old.

The tow to Dallas was about 250 miles (again, covered by my roadside assistance plan). Warren was the owner and operator of the company. Warren rolled up in a GMC Yukon, and a trailer. It was about 7pm. Warren had his wife and 6 year old child along for the ride. Seemed logical enough...he hadn't seen them in a few days so this would be bonding. Warren knew the area pretty well and let me know that the Duck Dynasty guys film and operate out of Monroe LA. Well before I know it I received the grand tour of Willie's Duck Diner (the food was not good...Somewhere between a southern sprinkled Ponderosa, and a Joe's Crab Shack without all the garbage tacked to the walls), and Duck Dynasty Headquarters. The Duck boys HQ had a striking resemblance to a place where one would pick up used truck and tractor tires.

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, the Yukon blew a tire. What I mean by this is the tire blew at 70 mph, with an over-sized Mac Truck on our tail and a sub-compact next to the trailer with the bike. For 15 to 20 seconds Warren dropped some serious Baptist revival messages at full volume, but no dirty words. I however dropped a few because it felt like we blew all 4 tires on the Yukon. Warren skillfully got the truck into the median without locking up the brakes. He and I jumped out to inspect the damage and found the rear drivers side was trashed. Warren let me know he couldn't have jammed on the brakes any harder or he would have risked jackknifing the trailer and rolling it and the Yukon. Good job Warren, good job indeed. We moved the Yukon over to the right lane shoulder to get some solid ground on the jack, and I mentioned that changing a tire is always more adventurous when semi-trucks are cruising 4 feet from the jack-man. A few minutes later we're back on the road, and found out that Warren indeed was a Baptist Minister, and toured in a gospel choir. Thanks for the tow and blessings good sir.

Chilling at the Harmon's house was a joy and a pleasure. Seeing the Harmon family was fantastic, and getting a solid soak in the hot tub and pool kept my back from sending any more electric style shocks to my limbs when I turn my head. I lived with Mr. Matt Harmon for at least 8 years. When we got to his house after dumping my bike at the dealership, the first thing he did was offer me a beer. It was like any typical Orlando FL night when we lived together. Time had stood still.

Well, I have a rally to attend in Panguitch June 11-14. I may not be able to camp with the well respected Beehive Beemers, but I'm looking at renting a bike (likely a Harley) and making an appearance. I would at least like to shake the hands of the good folks that helped cement my Utah visit. So while I wait for my bike to get repaired, I booked a flight to Utah, to link up with my friends Bob and Liz Turbyfill. Bob was one of the kind soul that pulled me through my first 6-8 months at ADP. I also learned early that Bob is one hell of an extreme sports athlete. He's put me through my paces on mt. bikes, snow ski's, and dirt machines...each time I found myself struggling to keep up, but still holding my own in all except real Lake Tahoe black run moguls.

Well I talked Bob and Liz into some Sunday riding in American Fork Canyon. I rented a quad sport (Honda 450). After getting the very odd directions on starting the machine, off we went. The odd directions were to not give the machine gas when starting it as it could do damage to the clutch. Well the goofy machine wouldn't start at all unless it was in neutral with the clutch pulled in, then you have to give it gas in 1st gear or the POS would stall out. Whatever, I won't touch the gas when starting it, and I didn't. Well this was some serious rock, river and boulder climbing to get to a fantastic spot called Forest Lake. I struggled with the slick tires over the rocks, but was the first one up the mountain. Not because I was good, simply I went first to insure help was around if I high-centered. We shut the machines down to cool off while we enjoyed the views and snapped a couple of pictures. After 30 minutes, it was time to continue on our merry way. Everyone had their machines going, but mine wouldn't drop into gear. Seems I blew the clutch. You have got to be kidding me!!!! Bob being former military, and probably an Eagle Scout, had an 8 foot tow strap among his many potentially life saving supplies. He towed me down the trail for an hour, and we loaded the machine up. Upon delivery, I called the rental place and said I had a wonderful time and I'd provide referrals in the future. So far no calls from the rental place about additional cost for a new clutch.

Official counts of crap broken on this leg of the trip:
1 blown final drive
1 blown tire on the tow vehicle
1 blown clutch

That's only in the past 5 day. Keep throwing the good vibes my way, as I can use all I can get.

Cheers to the road