The big day. After some uneasy sleep, I was starting to be concerned that one possible outcome of riding the bike was the whole axle mount actually coming off
. It goes without saying that this would result in the front wheel swinging loose and me starting in on my famous flying squirrel impression. For fifteen miles into Montrose, I kept my teeth clamped together. Just in case. I've bit my tongue off before and didn't like the idea of doing it again. Might as well leave a beautiful corpse, right?
Safely to Davis Service Center:
Let me say that these guys were fantastic. They weren't sure they could fix it at first, but we got there at nine and it was in the stand by 9:45. I know what it's like to have a day of repairs in front of you and they did everything they could to help us out. Apparently it was two possible problems, one fixable one not. We wait:
Well, what do we have here? Who says waiting has to be boring. We met Hal who had just bought this beauty in Boise and was riding it back to Houston. He was chatty and we spent most of the wait talking to him. He's in his sixties, races an R6, races dirt bikes, and likes to lay down cruiser miles. What a guy. What a bike! I want that.
'08 Yammy Roadliner
The news comes back in our favor!
The bike is fit for repair. Thankfully it's not a pressfit, it's threaded. Somehow the stanchion had threaded itself half way out of the axle mount. Yeesh, let's not think about it. A tip of the hat to the gods on this one.
To celebrate we head across the highway to JJs Windmill Cafe and have a marvelous breakfast.
Empty but for two truckers at the bar solving the problems of the world:
"It's a dry one this year."
"Drier 'n I ever seen 'er before."
"Oh yessir, it has been dry."
"That's a fact."
Full of omelettes, we head back to pick up the bike which is already finished and waiting for us. Many thanks and a generous tip for the wrench. John tightened down his fan motor that had been rattling and we were on our way.
Since we'd lost plenty of time in the redirect and shop time, we decided to slab it over to Moab. The roads went through some amazing passes and canyons, so we rolled through with no regrets. I think we were both feeling incredible relief that we were still riding bikes.
Utah awaits! The land of 3.2 beer and Joseph Smith.