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To reckon with my own stupidity, I thought I'd fess up misadventures I had, slightly embellished, where my poor TDub accompanied me. I'm curious to hear some of yours.

8/5/20
I live in Woodland Park, just north of Pike's Peak. We're taught in this area that the weather can be squirrely in the summer. This morning's sunshine was so pretty and warm that I forgot this little warning. I left the clinic where I worked today at about 7:45p, and as I was walking out the door towards my bike, my phone sang the warning tones. It read, "Flash Flood Warning is in effect for this area" with further instructions.

I thought to myself, in this situation, the only right way to go is up. So up I went with my little TDub, westbound US 24, hoping that home's 8500ft elevation would provide sufficient up-ness. The rain at first was manageable, but as I got to Manitou Springs, over about five feet of distance, a pleasant English sprinkle turned into what felt like an elephant's urinary spray after a dozen cans of Red Bull, but colder. The pitter patter on my brain bucket rapidly loudened, and my arms started to yelp in stingy prickly pain from the dime-sized hail punishing me as I rode. I blitzed through Manitou's allotment of the highway at an arousing 25mph. Two pickup trucks (and it's always a pickup, I wish I could tell you different) cruised right on by, didn't seem to notice the pool of flavored water in the median, and displaced enough water with their tires, I thought I bumbled upon Moses' second exodus. I quickly regretted leaving a little crack in my visor to mitigate the condensation, and let me tell you my friends, my eyes were f****ing burning. The mud was inside my visor, my attempts to wipe it away were little more than a helpless flailing. I worried if I pulled over, the weather would worsen and I'd be in worse shape; so on I went, squinting, quickening my pace like a practice for the Hill Climb at a staggering 30mph. By the grace of spite, I made it home, and headed right for the shower.

Before I bought a TDub, the wise sages of YouTube professed it would get you home no matter what. They were right about that. Definitely makes me feel a little closer to that little buddy. Alas, I must now tend to my right eyeball, and I bid you goodnight. I look forward to hearing some of your foibles as well.
 

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One of my misadventures happened the other day and it’s rather lengthy .I was leaving the shop And I left my motorcycle key locked inside so I unlocked the door and went back in and got my key. set the alarm came back out and I realized I forgot and left my helmet inside . So I went back inside got my helmet set the alarm came outside locked the door and I realized I had left a bunch of new tires leaning up against the building. So I went back in one more time put the tires inside and fooled around and set the alarm off . Then I had to wait for the alarm company to call. Finally i was on my way. It’s 12.5 miles from the shop to my house. The last 3.5 gravel .About 2 1/2 to 3 miles from the shop it started to rain I mean really rain flooding rain.The county road I was on was paved but it held water in the ruts really bad.I had to go slow . I could feel my bike slowing down. I thought I was in deep water but I was running out of gas. The rain slacked off and I came to a rolling stop in a man’s driveway two big old pitbull dogs came out from the carport. They were acting like they were about to eat me up.I was trying to get my pistol out of my pocket and put the fuel valve on reserve at the same time. The guy that lived at the house was an old biker and he came out there to check on me and get the dogs off of me. I got it fired back up and was on my way. Got about 100 yards from his house and the bottom fell out again. About the time I hit the gravel road I met a Toyota Tacoma four-wheel-drive and a regular cab Chevrolet pick up racing Each other. they never even saw me but I got out of the way. It rained on me the rest of the way home. All of this is true somethings you just can’t make up.
 

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Please forgive me. This isn't TW related but I saw a guy one time slammed his own fingers in his own car door. (How would you do THAT?)

Poor bugger, he literally had to get someone else to open the door so he could get his hand free. It's not that he couldn't reach the door handle - it's that he was too busy howling to do so - OWWWWWch... I had tears of pain in my own eyes, and it wasn't even my fingers... Nothing broken but he had trouble doing up his fly and buttons for a day or two I tell ya.

TW content: What's worse than that? Your wife or girlfriend on the back of your bike forcing you to nut yourself on your (Clarke) gas tank when you go over a jump and she doesn't hang on and brace herself for the impact!

Paddy
 

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To reckon with my own stupidity, I thought I'd fess up misadventures I had, slightly embellished, where my poor TDub accompanied me. I'm curious to hear some of yours.
Heh. That reminds me of a trip up from C. Springs to Deckers back in 1968. I was riding a BSA 650 Royal Star and managed to get thoroughly soaked before I got to Deckers. I spent an hour or so warming up in a little café that existed back then. It was still raining at 5pm and I asked the nice lady if she had any Saran Wrap....since I was obviously too stupid to own rain gear at the age of 18!

She wrapped me up from head to toe with half a roll, and looking a bit like the Michelin Man I rode back to CC as the rain tapered off. I think I finally got warm by Woodland Park.

I might mention that I had waist length hair and was trying to look real bad ass at the time....she didn't blink an eye, God bless her.
 

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Heh. That reminds me of a trip up from C. Springs to Deckers back in 1968. I was riding a BSA 650 Royal Star and managed to get thoroughly soaked before I got to Deckers. I spent an hour or so warming up in a little café that existed back then. It was still raining at 5pm and I asked the nice lady if she had any Saran Wrap....since I was obviously too stupid to own rain gear at the age of 18!

She wrapped me up from head to toe with half a roll, and looking a bit like the Michelin Man I rode back to CC as the rain tapered off. I think I finally got warm by Woodland Park.

I might mention that I had waist length hair and was trying to look real bad ass at the time....she didn't blink an eye, God bless her.
A sweet, down home kind of riding experience for you.

Years ago on my trusty old BMW /6 I was riding cross Canada heading for a rally in Trenton Ontario. My plan was to head east thru Canada, attend the rally and return west thru USA. Anyway I can't remember exactly where I was, somewhere off the main drag between Regina and Winnipeg. I happened upon an old timer who stole most of the day on me when his huge tractor and gazillion bottomed plow, it nearly as wide as the pavement, blocked the road as I approached him.

He was maybe 80 or so I guess, blush red cheeks and sparkling eyes. He wore those old time pinstriped farmer's overalls which always remind me of the CPR for some reason. Anyway, he was grinning, and when I pulled over to let him pass he stopped too. I'm not sure if he thought I wanted to talk to him or vice versa, but in any case I parked, walked over and we began to chat.

'Big plow' I said as I searched the expression on his face hoping it would tell me a story. In those lines and wrinkles was this proud old farmer, dyed in the wool and long in the tooth, still obviously in charge, but maybe not quite the boss of everything anymore.

"Yessir she is" he said. Taking 'er back to the yard. Soon we'll be combining. Pretty good crops this year ya know. This land 'round us is mine but I turned it all over to my son 'while back. He's the farmer now but the wife and I come out from town in the summer and help out, keep him on track sorta. Keeps me busy. Whadda you upta?"

"Out for a jaunt. I try to get away a bit every year on the old girl here. I call her Hilda. She's a long rider. Pain in the ass really, hehe - pardon the pun eh. Wife used to come along too but hurt her back, and it's not comfy for her anymore." Just solo. You know."

I told him my plans for the rally and that being from BC I really hadn't seen much of the prairies at all. Big skies and flat land was a real treat for me - for about 15 minutes anyway... but I didn't care much for the prairie winds and those bloomin' storms that can creep up on you so quick. But so far so good, and stayin' dry too. Just the odd grasshopper leg stuck in my teeth.

We introduced ourselves, and thoroughly enjoying our monotony break we must have yacked for 15 minutes or so before another car came along. "You had lunch?" I hadn't. "The place isn't far, maybe 10 minutes at my speed. We can prob'ly find ya a sandwich and a coffee there somewhere if ya like. 'Why not?' I said. "On the left if you watch you'll see that old steel wheel tractor out front near the road. That's the driveway. Just go in there 'n if the wife comes out just tell her I'm right behind. She'll be looking for me anytime now for lunch."

They were lovely old folks, Tom and his wife Annie. We ate big roast beef and tomato sandwiches on homemade prairie bread just like my mother used to bake when I was a kid. He told me all about the farm, his son, how farming had changed over the years, and about their winter life. The'd go to Mexico and for 50 years they'd stay in this same village in the same motel. Of course, last few years his son had been doing the driving but otherwise things hadn't changed a lot for them down there. He couldn't speak a word of Spanish but that was no problem anyway - they'd been going so long everybody more or less knew them as if they were full time residents, which they kinda were, winters anyway. Tom had lots to tell and I could hardly get a word in edgewise except occasionally when Annie would chime in and ask about my wife and kids, life in BC and this or that, and so it went.

Tom's sun faded old Ford pickup was parked in the yard and next thing I know we were 5 miles down the road bouncing along the township line looking at the grain crops. I dutifully approved as we looked at a few different fields. Meantime we hashed over everything from politics to the cost of fuel to good health and parts in between. It was clear and in a way flattering to me that he was so trusting and that my presence made a difference to him and perhaps broke a streak of monotony.. Being lonely and lacking stimulation is a horrible thing for seniors and it did my heart good to see Tom and Annie (all three of us for that matter) enjoy the encounter. I could go on but I think you get the picture. No doubt the three of us will still be reflecting on our short but significant encounter in the months and years to come.

Whether it be TW, BMW, or whatever you ride, for me the true essence of riding is not merely the physical part of going along on two wheels, it is the internalized apect of the total experience that blesses us with those lasting experiences.

When you ride a motorcycle, something interesting happens every day. What say?

Paddy
 

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Very shortly after the Mt. Saint Helens eruption a geologist riding buddy & I sneaked into the exclusion zone on our plated 2-stroke enduro bikes for a few days of touring the devastation. Figured we both had credible professional excuses to be there should we get caught, but in reality we were pretty much hooligans. Amazing stuff, smashed vehicles, tens of thousands of blast downed trees and about a cubic mile or so of missing mountain. Sobering demonstration of the power of nature.
This was just after the first post-eruption rains so the deep powdery ash I had been studying on far side of the state had transformed into a moist rubbery elastic compound ideal for flat track fun. So we were bombing along on the few cleared logging roads getting slideways as much as possible exploring the envelope of available traction.
On one corner laid over and apparently superimposed a bobble had our handlebars mesh. Both bikes stood up and we shoot off of the road ballistically into the ugh-known. Synchronized mayhem.
Fortunately we launched in the same direction that all the blast downed timber were laying pointed radially away from the eruptive center a few miles away. We both landed a few tree trunks away from each other slotted between the trunks and luckily un-injured but facing the wrong way.
It took a bit of doing to ultimately get bikes back up and onto the road through the shattered trees. Quite a personal sobering experience , more so than finding a couple smashed vehicles that people died in.
Elsewhere further from the volcano we found relatively undamaged forests with single tracks blanketed in crunchy pumice ejecta resembling so much Cocoa Puffs kid's cereal. Awesome and unique riding conditions once again.
 

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Speaking of misadventures our forum member Bananachunks who strayed from the flock with a Honda CBX500 purchase is in need of a water pump assembly for said supposedly bomb-proof Honda somewhere in Montana while on his Continental Divide Tour.
Bummer...a good rider on a good machine sometimes just gets a string of bad luck.
 

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I have a Honda in my stable now, a 2002 Spirit 1100. I just found out to use the Honda motorcycle antifreeze. I tried a compatable antifreeze then my waterpump began whistling. I didn't want to spend $200.00 on a waterpump so I opted to try the more expensive Honda motorcycle antifreeze. The whistle went away and no more waterpump noise at all. Just some advice for anyone with a water cooled Honda.
 

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Just my 2 cents but I like the reliability and safety that air cooled engines provide in remote areas. Something air cooled like a TW will never leave you stranded with a broken water pump impeller, leaking gasket, leaking hose, leaking housing, leaking clamps, leaking radiator, boil overs, clogged radiator, holed radiator, loose or missing radiator retention brackets or bolts, inadequate or improper coolant, broken or loose fan, or a fan that drains your battery during charging related other issues.
A buddy's water cooled KLX will illuminate a dash idiot light for temperature causing him all sorts of pleasure reducing concerns over state of un-quantified coolant heat issues. If he wasn't focused on the idiot warning light he could be more focused on the trail challenges and pleasures immediately before him.
A water cooled Adventure Bike leaves one vulnerable to vastly more sources of being stranded like Bananachunks who just wants to find an apparently unavailable part, special order one if he can find one, wait and then install so he can just get out of Montana.
A minor water pump issue of damaged impeller hub is likely turning his 3 week adventure of a lifetime into a worrisome race to either get bike back on the road or rent something to haul it home in time for work in San Francisco.
 

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+1 on the air cooled adventure bikes. If it weren't for traffic air cooled is better for the street too.
 

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Well call this guy old-fashioned, but I'm one to believe that water-cooled engines are just more appropriate for four-wheeled vehicles...
 

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I agree. And yet there have been some interesting air cooled four-wheeled vehicles over the years. Well, at least some started out with four wheels...:giggle:
Offroad-bug.jpg
 
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