My Concours being winched onto the tow truck.

I had just had new tires put on my Concours on Sunday, in Columbus, Ohio, and I rode on home, arriving in Denver on Wednesday. And as I have mentioned previously, I got my first motorcycle speeding ticket less than 50 miles from home on that 17-day, 3,878-mile trip. On Friday I set out mid-afternoon with Brett and Randy, two of the OFMC, on our annual summer trip. We were to meet up with everyone else in Grand Junction. Jason was supposed to be riding with us but he was delayed so he would be along later.

Nearing Rifle, my bike started handling horribly. I was in the rear but I had to pull over immediately. It turned out my brand new rear tire was flat. Not a defect, as I later learned, but a puncture. I tried to put the bike on the side stand but with the tire flat the stand tipped it just past vertical, so it was inclined to topple over onto the right. To my consternation, it was totally impossible for me to rock the bike up onto the center stand. So I had no choice but to standd there holding the bike up until someone came along to help me.

Of course I figured the guys would notice I was not with them, would pull over to wait, and eventually they would come back to find me. But I just waited. Meanwhile, whenever a motorcycle came along on the highway I waved to them to help me. The first one went by without stopping and the second one did stop, though it was a tenth of a mile later before they could stop from 75 mph. As they walked back to me a guy in a pick-up stopped to help. He was a big, strong guy, but it was all the two of us could manage to get the bike onto the center stand. But we did, and I could finally do something else, like, oh, you know, call for assistance.

While I was standing there, though, I had thought about what to do and concluded my best bet was to try to reach my friends in Eagle, Willie and Jungle, to see if they could help me out. They have a Concours like mine and Jungle is a mechanic. This could be a good thing.

I called and spoke to Willie, who put me through to Jungle, and Jungle said sure, have the bike towed here and we’ll see what we can do. I called the AMA roadside assistance number and told them my situation and they said they’d check for tow services and call me back. While I was waiting, Jason came along. He was very surprised to find me standing there by the road, but by then all was taken care of and there was nothing he could do. What he did do was call Brett, who told him they were in Grand Junction. Where was he (Jason)?

“I’m here on the highway outside Rifle with Ken. He has a flat tire.” Oh. Brett said they had stopped and waited for me three times but I never caught up with them. Duh. Thanks guys.

So Jason went on and the tow truck took me back to Eagle. Jungle said it was too late to get started on the bike that night and Willie said I’d be staying with them. That was fine, and we had an enjoyable evening. The next morning Jungle and I got right on it, me watching him and asking questions so I could learn how to do this myself. Ha! Without theh proper tools I’m not doing this myself anytime.

First we tried patching the tire, but after two patches failed there were two options. Jungle had a new tire of the right size, but bias-ply. My Connie wants radials. He also had an old tire he had taken off his Concours when he was leaving on a trip that would have been too much for the tire. Rather than get new tires mid-trip, he started with new rubber. This tire was the right size and radial, but an Avon. My tires were Dunlops. No matter, the Avon went on.

I was finally on my way at 2 p.m. on Saturday, riding hard to meet up with the guys, who were now headed for Marysvale, Utah. I rolled in there around 9 p.m. and it was time for my vacation to begin. Oh, and although I had expected Brett and Randy to immediately come tell me something like, “Oh hey, we’re really sorry for being so stupid and not going back for you,” if fact, neither of them has ever said one word about it. Thanks guys. You’re real pals.

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Biker Quote for Today

“Remember that an enduro tests the endurance of three things: your machine, your body, and your wits. Only one has to fail to keep you from reaching the finish line.” — Cycle World March 1966