Dude, You’ve Got Bad Tires
Tires are pretty important, do ya think?
At our last stop one year, as the OFMC headed toward Espanola, NM, I had mentioned to Randy that the tread on his front tire was getting pretty thin and he’d be needing a new tire by the time we got home from this trip. He shrugged it off, saying he figured he’d let it go till next spring because after this trip he wouldn’t be riding that much more the rest of this year.
We pulled over for another break at Ojo Caliente and he apparently took second look, and also checked his rear tire.
“I’m concerned,†he told us. “I’ve got another 500 miles to ride to get back to Denver and I don’t think my back tire’s going to make it.â€
We crouched down behind his bike to inspect the tire.
“It looks OK to me,†said someone.
“Roll it forward,†I said. “Let’s see the whole tire.â€
Sure enough, as we saw the whole tire, there was a spot about 2 inches by 3 inches where there was no rubber at all, just the steel belt showing through.
“You’re not going home on that tire,†I told him. “You need to ride the extra 25 miles into Santa Fe and have that replaced before you do anything else.â€
I knew the situation Randy was facing. Once before, at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, I had noted to the other guys that my tread on my rear tire was getting pretty thin. And then when I checked it again the next day it was almost nonexistent. We had gasped at how quickly rubber can be worn away when a tire is ready to give up the ghost. Then in April of this year I had ridden down to Scottsdale expecting my tires to get me home and found myself immediately hitting a shop there for new ones as the tread vanished before my eyes on the way down.
With the tread completely gone, Randy had no business going anywhere except straight to the nearest shop. But he had other ideas.
Maybe Santa Fe was only 25 miles away, but, he said, it was in the wrong direction. He made some phone calls and found a shop in Alamosa, back in Colorado, where they had the right tire in stock and could take care of him as soon as he arrived. Never mind that it was 115 miles away.
Long story short, he made it OK. Friggs went with him as a back-up but the tire got him there. Was there more belt showing when they reached Alamosa? You better believe it. I would never have ridden that far on that tire, and I thought Randy was an idiot for doing it, but fortune was smiling on him that day.
They say it’s better to be lucky than to be smart. Me, I’d just as soon give my luck a helping hand by making wise choices.
Biker Quote for Today
Why motorcycles are better than women: Motorcycles’ curves never sag.
Tags: bad tires
