Big Mistake At The Pumps
“We’ve got a diesel truck running out there.”
Those are not the words you generally want to hear about your motorcycle. Dennis was ecstatic.
We’ll start at the beginning.
We stopped for gas in Livingston, Montana, at a big station where the pumps in front were all busy. So we went around back and filled up. Then we headed west on I-90, destination Missoula. But right from the start Dennis could tell the big Indian wasn’t running properly. Bill, just behind Dennis, smelled something that puzzled him.
After about 60 miles Dennis decided to pull off at another station. He figured he had gotten some bad gas and that adding some good gas would dilute the bad. But after he filled the tank the bike would not start at all. It wouldn’t even turn over.
Maybe that bad gas had fouled the plugs. He didn’t have the tools to pull the plugs so Bill gave him a ride to the nearest town where he bought tools. Pulling the first plug it looked just fine. Now he was truly stumped.
Checking online Dennis found that the nearest Indian dealer was in Idaho Falls, about 235 miles away. The towing company he reached said that would cost $900. A U-Haul truck, 25 miles away, would cost $260, plus he would have to buy tie-downs. A no-brainer. Bill took him to Whitehall to get the truck and we returned to the station that was now becoming a second home to us.
Now, how do you roll a non-running 800-pound motorcycle up a steep ramp into a truck? When we first got to this station there were several burly young guys around who we sorely needed. None now. We finally recruited a couple older guys who seemed kind of iffy but you take what you can get. Miraculously we were successful. Tie it down securely and off we go.
The dealership was closed by the time we got there and there were supposedly zero motel rooms available in town. Dang. However, luck was with us and we found one small, older place that had a room for us. Big sigh.
Dennis was over to the dealership before they opened in the morning and immediately got the bike checked in for work. Then we walked a few blocks for breakfast. Returning after breakfast, Dennis asked at the counter about his bike. “The dead one?” the guy asked. He turned and carried over that vial you see in the picture. It had come out of Dennis’s tank and it was red diesel. How the heck did that happen? Was the gas station accidentally dispensing diesel from a gas pump, wreaking havoc with who knows how many vehicles?
More importantly (for Dennis) was what damage might have been done. Worst case scenario is that the pistons might have seized up. Nothing to do but clean it out and see if the bike will run. This will take an hour or two.
Meanwhile Dennis pulled out his gas receipt and it said right there, “red diesel.” He was the one who made a mistake. How?
Looking at the pumps he had seen a couple with green handles and he knew that was diesel. The other handle was red. Now here’s the thing: in Colorado for the most part, red is the color for gasoline. But in the more rural areas in a place like Montana, green means regular diesel, red means red diesel, and black is the color for gas. When I filled my tank I looked at the labels on the pump. Dennis only looked at the color of the handles.
So by the way, what the heck is red diesel? Red diesel is for farm implements and construction equipment that does not use the highways. Because they don’t use the highways they are exempted from the taxes that pay for the highways. Regular diesel has a red dye added. If your semi is stopped and they find red diesel in your tank you are in trouble.
With the dire possibilities in that worst case scenario you can now see why, when the mechanic came out and said, “We’ve got a diesel truck running out there,” that Dennis was ecstatic. His motor was not destroyed, and it was running so we could actually get back on the road.
Be aware, they told him, it may smoke for awhile.
Biker Quote for Today
Why Motorcycles are Better than Men: If your motorcycle smokes, you can do something about it.
Tags: Indian motorcycle, red diesel