Date: Monday, September 11, 2018
Location: Jefferson, SD
Departure Time: 9:30ish
Starting Mileage: 28,666
When I uncovered the bike I called Mark over. “Man, you’d better roll the bike up and down the street to turn that over!” was his response.
I was hoping it wasn’t an oman. It was!
ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL DAY
MARK’S STICK TO YOUR ARTERIES HILLBILLY OMLET
One of Sunday’s agenda items that did not happen due to time constraints was me taking Blackie out for a spin. A photo op would have to do.
A BIKE WITH A COLORFUL HISTORY
Lee took a couple street shots and we were off. For a block at least.
Mark pulled into their local cemetery where a number of his LaFleur kin are buried to show me something.
There were at least a half dozen stones in one area. Who knows, Mark and I could be related.
We were now truly off, Mark leading us down secondary roads to bypass the city. Within minutes the Iowa border was crossed.
SOYBEANS ON THE RIGHT, CORN ON THE LEFT
Mark pulled over, it was time to say farewell.
I’M GOING TO MISS THIS DUDE!
Lee took over the navigational duties and got us over to RT 169 S. At one intersection we found RT 169 S to be closed for construction. At a convenience store Lee went in to ask the clerk for alternate route directions.
Bubba’s spedo had stopped working so I poked around to see if I could discover the malady. I did. Somehow the cable must have gotten pinched between the gas tank and possibly the generator. It was now a two piece cable. I threw the loose half in the trash.
I took a break inside the store. On the way out the door I paid for a bag of beef jerky. That was lunch. Little did I know it would also be dinner.
Since the generator light was doing its’ thing again I hoped the speedometer cable sacrifice would be sufficient to placate the electron demons. It wasn’t.
Arriving at the intersection of RT 169 S and RT 6 E we stopped at a NAPA store to inquire about a voltage regulator. They didn’t have one, but a sister store about 20 minutes away did. While this was being confirmed I availed myself of the pickled asparagus they offered. It was very good. They also checked the battery and said it was fully charged.
We suited up and headed east on RT 6. No sooner were we on our way than Bubba begin to backfire and loose power. This mystified me, because the battery had the juice to keep the bike firing. Knowing that we’d never make the store I began looking for an exit off the highway. To my left I saw a small house with barns behind it so I hit the turn signal and pulled in. “You can’t just drive up to a strangers house”, Lee protested. “Oh yea, watch me.”
A man was across the door yard working on a running triaxle. I walked over and told him that I had problems.
Warren was a pretty stoic man seven years my senior. He reluctantly offered to drive Lee to the auto parts store, but his heart wasn’t in it. We ordered an Uber. It was around 4:30 pm.
Warren let me push the rig up to a massive garage as a place to work on it. To my dismay my socket set wasn’t in the saddlebag. Warren offered me the use of some tools.
While Lee was off retrieving the voltage regulator I removed the generator to check the brushes. They looked fine.
I had told Warren to go about his business as I knew he had things to do. He came back by after a bit and we talked. He was also in the air force and rode a dual sport. I asked him about his farm and family. A couple times I got a smile out of him.
Lee arrived with the new voltage regulator and I installed it. It was pretty much a direct replacement.
Tank back on it was the moment of truth. The bike cranked, but wouldn’t fire.
I popped the distributor cap off to discover that the points had closed up. This explained the back firing. Lee helped me gap them.
Sometimes when a problem occurs it can involve more than one issue.
Shame on me for not checking them on Sunday.
Key on, starter button depressed and Bubba roared to life. The generator light went out. All was well or so I thought.
We suited up, thanked Warren and rode back into town for fuel. It was the first gas station to have 93 octane fuel on the trip.
Disconcerting was the fact that the generator light came on when I turned the ignition key off. I ignored it being too fried to go down that path.
Back on RT 169 S we motored along. The sun was dropping. I kept the headlight off until the last daylight faded. Only then did I turn it on. Finally RT 34 E appeared, our final leg of the day. Once I looked down to see a bright red indicator light shining back at me. “Aw come on!” I yelled out loud. Then I realized it was the high beam indicator light.
Mile after mile the two hour travel time ticked away. Then the generator light began to flicker. I would intensify then diminish. The ride was eternal. I began to wonder if Mt Pleasant existed. I kept telling myself to focus on the road not the generator light. Thirty seconds later I was back looking at the light. What was strange, the light intensified the faster we went. Completely counter intuitive.
The brightness of the headlight was another focal point. It didn’t appear to diminish with time.
Finally Mt Pleasant made the sign board, 33 miles.
Shortly after passing the sign I had to switch to reserve. Mt Pleasant 19 miles appeared. Eventually the bike displayed the tell tale signs of a depleted fuel supply so I rolled onto the shoulder. A couple of semi’s blew passed.
His thirst quenched, Bubba fired back up. Onward ho! We passed the first of three posted exits for Mt Pleasant. We rode on. Then a mileage sign for the next two towns appeared. I began to question if we’d missed something. Eventually lights off to our right and the hotel exit came into view. A Super 8 never looked so good.
While Lee was checking in I sent Landshark a text letting him know we’d arrived. Then I called Don to update him. He scolded me for not checking the points on Sunday. Right back at you buddy, it was your bike!
In the room I couldn’t crawl into bed fast enough.
Adventures With Bubba 