Ever recall the times you've said "I shouldn't be doing this", or the ever loving "what the hell am I doing here?" Your brain was trying to get you killed in the name of high jinks. The scars made by the stupid yet exciting dares and tricks tried just to impress friends and the girls. At my age I thought I was beyond such folly. Life after all is secure as we want it to be, no bombs are falling on us and our plates are always full.( I laugh..as I write this air-raid sirens goes off, it's noon on a Tuesday in S.F. the norm)
So a friend of mine just recently bought a DRZ 400 SM., wanting to learn how to ride supermotard she went to the Stockton Motorplex. As her pit crew/umbrella boy I was able to watch rather than run for once. I have to say it was nice. Pat from Subterranean Cycles graciously let me try his tricked out Husaberg on the course, great fun and I was instantly hooked, uh-oh. Pat, Greg and Kyle have our thanks for helping us both with advice and encouragement. How many folks would hand you their 8 grand bike and say have fun, thanks guys. My friend having a blast now decided to take the Gary Trachy Supermoto School at the Grange Moto Circuit in Victorville, located in the Mojave Desert, again I was to pit for her, as well as learn about the sport.
My 99R1 was just recently hit two times in three days, once while it was parked by a mini van full of people and once while I was on it up north, sideswiped by a giant SUV towing a big trailer...it took me out, bastards! Another concussion for Alx, and a thoroughly wrecked bike, poor thing. That R1 has done a 110mph on the Isle of Man by Wade so I know it has heart, we rode home leaking oil but we did make it. So I need to get to the LA-Mojave area and have no ride or way to get there. Since I rode the leaky R1 to Stockton from S.F.( with a wrap to keep the oil in) I figure it would make it to the Mojave.
Being that my brain can talk me into just about anything, especially if it's foolhardy, dangerous and crazy, I thought the ride to the Mojave would be a walk in the park, denial is a strong trait in a racer. It would have been wise to rent a car, fly or skip the trip all together, but I needed to get out of town for several reasons and I needed to ride. Here is where a strange logic of an Alx comes in. There have been many old tales of riders riding across the country on bikes much older and at times when there weren't as many areas of population and cell phone comforts. After all Triumphs, BSA's and Nortons leaked right, men rode those to hell and back. I have a newer R1 and the leak is manageable why not run it.
It's Friday and I'm hungover, a pal that I had many pints and conversations with died on Thursday, Godspeed Erno. Not a good way to start a trip. Earlier Thursday I changed the oil and went over the bike, my tire was getting bald and would not likely make the trip( I would have ran it though). SuperTireGuy Robbie saw my tire and gladly changed it to an acceptable one with tread, again thanks to the guys at Subterranean Cycles. So I'm off to LA at 10 AM. The weather is hot and sunny. "Here we go baby, we can make it" the R1 sounds loose but goes along anyway.
We're off and running and the oil seems to hold, then drips..uh-oh, we're not even an hour in and now I have to stop. The wrap is leaking good, it didn't leak this much from Stockton and back so I rewrap it and go on, not discouraged but wondering why the hold isn't working as well as before. We get to I-5 and again I have to pull over, not even a hundred miles in and leaking all over. It's really hot so I figure the temp must be making the oil much thinner and it runs through the layers easier, more duct tape and plastic wrap, lets go baby, and we do.
At this time my brain is wondering what it is I'm up to. "Uh Alx you're riding a bike leaking lots of oil into the Mojave Desert in the middle of the day, what are we doing?" Since I'm wondering the same thing I don't answer. I figure at some point a decision has to be made as to keep going or not. This is thoroughly illogical and possibly dangerous. (A racers danger scale is broader than the average joe's) Just as I'm thinking this again I have to pull over, this time we are near Los Banos, ironically I've been here before with other ailing vehicles trying to get to Willow Springs to race. So as the bike spews oil I do the math, at this rate I'll run out of "fixing" supplies before long, if I run it leaking I'll run out of oil. To go farther would mean getting stuck farther out. Subculture racers don't quit, we do whatever it takes to go. As I start to admit defeat disgusted with the fact I may have to turn back, an idea comes to light. I laugh, could it work... why not, and try it.
My oil leakage problems are over, there's something to be said about the saying "Necessity is the mother of invention." I now truly believe that. Though untried, in theory my bike should now make it. The oil is caught in a container and refilled into the bike, no loss. Proud of my achievement I thank the bike and we move on. Why not right. To be able to run like this requires we adapt as needed. I notice the catch bottle fills fast and have to pull over every 20 miles, at 80mph this means I pull over every few minutes, hmm, this won't work. At a gas station I drink cold water and ponder the situation. A larger bottle will work, one too big and all the oil will drain out of the motor and it will seize, to little and we pull over a lot. A medium size one allows us to go 40 to 45 miles between stops, not great but it'll have to do, and we go.
Constantly looking over the side to watch the oil level my thoughts are "willing" the bike to keep going (you can do this baby). When the small issue of survival arises other thoughts that we're taxing you seem more mundane, you generally appreciate you're moving along and promise to resolve whatever issues you have if you make it being they couldn't possibly be as bad as what you got yourself into presently. Foxhole psychology.
We motored along to Bakersfield and all is good, though the time it is taking has doubled. Why I would assume I could get there in record time is beyond me, if a bike is leaking of course it's gonna take longer (that's the denial part masking reality). A small concern of mine was the traffic and constant clutch actuation, would the bike overheat or would the clutch fail. To worry is a waste of energy but human.
The sun is now setting we're now going into remote areas in the dark on an ailing bike. This is where I again question my sanity and intentions. I can be to stubborn for my own good and ask myself, "what are you trying to accomplish Alx?", I have no response, why would I do this. As I'm in the mountain range the scenery is breathtaking and I smile. This is what riding is all about, somewhere along the line I forgot what an adventure riding can be. To go into the unknown, the clarity of what I need to do, everything else takes a back seat to the here and now, a sort of peace within. As we are running across the Mojave close to the destination I imagine noises in the motor, this is also common when finishing a race as the laps wind down. Sometimes your brain plays games with you, playing what if's. I remember this and try to relax looking ahead into the darkness, being that I thought this would be a piece of cake I had my tinted shield, dork.
The mighty R1 and I made it to Victorville at 8pm, whew, a beer and hotel were my reward for making it. Was all the anxiety and trouble worth the run there. Being I got to spend time with my friend and see the class being taught I thought so. The ride home took 7 hours, I had refined all the tricks needed to ride the R1 and we made it without a hitch. To overcome such folly can be mostly luck, however you have to have the will to see it through. In the end I am stronger.
~Cheers, Alx