Day 1-2(continued): back to VA
Beard: "You're kidding right?" :huh
Me: "I wish I was" :eek1
Beard: "Whatcha gonna do?"
Me: "Go get it!" :ricky
Would my ID get me into Canada? I called the Canadian Embassy in DC, the US Embassy in Canada and a host of other geologically slow telephone prompts for 30 minutes only to find that nobody could give me a definitive answer if it needed to be accompanied by a birth certificate or social security card. Overnighting the passport would have it get to Maine sometime on Sunday. F that.
Beard: "You realize there's the normal way of handling this, and then there's the bat shit crazy way of handling this. You always go for the latter." :norton
With caffeine and chili in my belly, I return south with a strange sense of calm. My body knows I'm going the wrong direction...maybe the bike does too :augie
I pull in to a kitsch tourist store on the VT/NY border for a sticker.
From here everything just seems like a blur. I set the GPS to "HOME" via the fastest route. Thank god for the EZ Pass:deal It begins to rain just outside NYC and continues long into the morning. I keep a steady 75mph or so for hours behind one or two cars. I'll let them catch the cops and deer ahead of me. I stop only for fuel and make it snappy.
I aim to be home by 2:30AM, sleep until 5AM then turn around and head North again.
Everything is going as (un)planned and I yawn from time to time, the music keeping me awake through my Chatterbox bluetooth. The rain streams down inside my faceshield and fogs refracting the brake lights and passing high pressure sodium lamps. On I-95 just before the Baltimore Harbor Tunnel, the bike begins to sputter. I immediately perk up, all my senses acute. "What the F was that? It's okay girl, I know it's raining but we can make it". I travel less than a mile down the road when the engine stops. The red oil light illuminated and ABS flashing. Clutch in, flashers on, I coast over to the right shoulder and turn the key off. The steady rain falls on me helmet much quieter than at 75mph. I take a deep breath. "Sweetheart what's wrong with you?" I ask. Following my pattern of luck with ladies, she must be upset because she isn't talking.
I check the fuel tank and have fuel.
The airbox for water or oil but it is dry and clean.
I check the fuses but they all appear to be intact.
Maybe a relay went? Shit I don't want to pull out the multi tester in the rain in the dark to test em right now.
Let me check for spark first. NO SPARK
I pull out my iPhone under the dripping brim of my XD3 and begin searching ADVRider's GSPOT for any relevant articles. After about 10 minutes, I determine the likely cause is a failed Hall Effect Sensor. :lol3 I actually laughed out loud from a mix of curiosity, coincidence and exhaustion. Beard and I always joke that it's some voodoo mystery box we'll never understand and will fail on us at the least opportune time. Yup.
I call for a tow at 2:00AM. The combination of exhaustion, frustration and boredom overtake me. I fall asleep on Meine Frau in gear and helmet using the tankbag as a pillow.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
I wake up to a two truck backing up. It is 5:30AM. Shit what a wait in the rain. Good thing I got some rest. Probably the most dangerous place I've slept.
Captain Hook Towing to the rescue! This is the first time I've had her on a trailer of any sort. It truly breaks my heart. Trailers are for boats :deal
He loads it up which takes approx 30 minutes, then we set off at a blisteringly fast 45 mph down I-95. I almost shit myself:eek1 I have him drop me 20 miles away at Bob's BMW in Jessup, MD. It slowly dawns on me that this malfunction could have occurred in a much more remote location with no cell reception or BMW dealer in the entire province! It feels good to be at the BMW dealer for once.
As we pull up, who is there at 6:30 holding the gate open but Bob himself! "I saw the bike on the truck a few miles back and followed you over here" Now thatis customer service. He sets out a box of donut holes and brews a pot. "We'll get you taken care of and back on the road"
The shop opens at 9 and there are probably 15 bikes waiting for service. I am the second or third they roll in the shop. After 20 minutes, one of the techs comes out to confirm my suspicion and I give them the OKAY (Rob me blind dealer!) to fix it. By 11:00 it was repaired and I was back on the road! My mother was kind enough to drive to my house, grab the passport and drive the hour to meet me while my bike was being repaired. Gotta love family :D She kicked tires and chatted with the burly BMW riders at Bob's until my bike was done. Cool Mama!
Okay, sun was out, day was new, bike was fixed. Nothing else to do but RIDE!!!
I turned around and headed North on 95...for hours. I took one or two pics of random cars but really, 95 is not a place for pictures. It just plain sucks. It sucks your soul, your tires and your EZ-Pass.
Seriously? Your mini-suv has a backpack?
Eventually I made it to New Hampshire and met Beard at a campsite near Newburyport.
Dude rocks! He totally had me covered :super
My stats as of 7 or 8 PM Saturday evening after my roundabout way north.
My butt wasn't sore at all, I was just a bit tired and in need of a shower which felt amazing and well worth the $.25 :deal I ate a cold can of tuna, swapped stories with Beard and fell asleep flat for the first time in two days as the wind blew and crickets chirped.