Raven's Roads
Living an interesting life: the travels and musings
of motorcycling author Linda R. Moore

Everyone had different plans for the day, and Barb and I had talked about going over highway 88 throught the mountains. My oil leak had worsened overnight, which worried me, so we said we’d go fuel up and see how it did. We went to a gas station where we had a pretty unfriendly encounter with one of the locals, and my bike wouldn’t start. Of course I now knew how to fix it, but it pretty much decided us on taking the superslab home :: sigh ::

I forgot to check the oil level so stopped in Verdi. Bike wouldn’t start, so did the same old again. Also, it piddled so much oil when I put it down on the side stand that for the rest of the time I never had the bike anywhere other than upright. Breaks were few and short, and involved one or the other of us standing the bike upright (o for a centre stand). I guess I may not be ironbutt material after all. We stopped in Colfax, where we were checked out by a kitty cat riding happily along in a woman’s truck, again in Fairfax, and Barb and I waved to one another and parted company in Milpitas.

Don and I got my bike upright so it won’t disgorge more oil, and then a shower was definitely in order. My wrist *hurts*.

We are going to take the side cover down to a welder. It’s all the aftermath of that dork who knocked me off the bike last December or whenever it was. And the engine bars, which never did get delivered, should help.

And I have a new jacket! It is a First Gear Kilimanjaro II in black and yellow. It’s wonderfully visible and very versatile. Liner needs to come right out for the summer, though. I will need to learn how to use it though as it’s pretty complicated. ;-)

OK, enough typing. :-)

I don’t know if I will have any pictures to show you, as mostly it was my friends taking the pictures. Anyway, you know about the journey there. Friday night we went down to Chevy’s in the hotel and ate copiously of Mexicamerican food. We were all so knackered that I don’t think any of us made it past 10 pm. ;-)

Barb is a VIP at the casino and had gotten us a mini-suite for the duration. We were on the 24th floor and on one side had views of the airport and on the other, desert mountains covered in snow. It was fabulously plush and very wonderful indeed. Great to just get to know these people a bit more than when we meet at the meetings for an hour or so. Some very cool ladies, here. :)

Saturday you know most of what happened. In retrospect I enjoyed the quiet day and the opportunity to think and ponder (and yes, complain ;-) Believe me when I say that it was worth it not to go riding to fix that problem myself. I was actually on the phone when the engine fired up and Don and I sort of laughed to one another. Turned out the ride was great but more arduous than expected, and I would not have done well with my stomach whatever. It could have been the sun/heat from the previous day that caused it, or the chilli at Wendy’s, or just the universe wanting to show me a thing or two.

Barb had been at the spa all day and was surprised to find me looking at maps and we ended up having a lovely chat/hang-out session together.

We had our dinner at an Asian restaurant (variety of cuisines). I had a lovely, subtle stir-fry with asparagus and chicken in a garlic and ginger sauce. It was wonderful. Afterwards I went and put a bit of money in the slots but even though I felt lucky I wasn’t. ;-)

I called Don and told him the problem. (I didn’t win a jackpot on the lsots so figured that gainful work would still be required.) he gave me some ideas and thoughts. With this coaching and some coaxing I rather reluctantly went down to see.

With my leatherman tool I unscrewed the battery cap and inspected the wires. The connections looked good, though the wire is a bit deteriorated (says she inexpertly). I tightened the terminal screws. I was on the phone to Don when the bike fired up. if I had not been in the middle of the valet parking I would have jumped up and down and squee’ed.

There is still an oil leak, but very minor, and I believe that Carolyn brought some jb-weld and/or epoxy .Failing that, I know where there is a Walgreen’s.

So, I might have missed my first ghost town and my first dirt ride, but I learned a more valuable lesson. Look for the obvious first, wiggle wires and tighten nuts, and then get on with stuff.

I don’t feel too bad now. I *am* still unwell, with a low-grade feeling of nausea. I did bring anti-diarrheal (sp) pills along, so that ain’t a problem any more. I comfort myself with believing that I would not have done too well in the desert sun all day.

The most valuable lesson of all? I can deal with stuff. And I have a support system. A really really good support system. :)

No matter where I go — even the UK — I have an accent. I have a Yorkshire accent filtered through the south of England and spiced up by ten years of California. It’s pretty unique. If you have ever seen All Creatures Great and Small ,those are Yorkshire accents, though mine was never quite as broad as that.

AHappy to amuse you with my voice postings. ;)

Some road trip journal, huh? Welcome to the trip through my psyche.

Maybe thre are some state park jobs left for the summer.

I’ve been here 2 hours now and I still feel like throwing up. It’s not huge, just a low level nausea.

So maybe I should cash $20 into quarters or something and go play the slots.

Or maybe I should be brave and unravel m ybike and see if I can hot wire it. Don would be so proud.

Maybe I should embrace these different adventures but mostly they make me fed up.

So if I had gone along today I would have probably been ill, so maybe being here is frustrating but better.

Maybe the universe was being kind in its sick and twisted way.

Maybe in the wider sense something bad was due to happen on my Big Trip.

Maybe in the widest sense I am being nudged towards paying for my own toys. Towards self-sufficiency. Maybe I cam temp. play, temp, play.

Btw, when I saythe universe I mean the wyrd, but that’s my background and I can’t be bothered to go into that just now. It’s similar enough to the universe for most of you to understand the angle I’m slanted at.

Yes, I ended a sentence with a preposition, sosue me. My sense of humour is my protective shell.

I kind of had a premonition about this. I had a sense of change coming. I should probably listen.

Specifically I had a sense that murphy was in full working order. Inverse murphy is that things can work out if you let them, os maybe I should stop trying, start trusting, and let them. I will no doubt be pleasantly surprised.

There are so many threads of possibility that play into our lives and affect stuff. My friends were joking with me that they were amazed nothing went wrong with my bike this time. It is a standing joke. Don didn’t want me to go to NV without taknig a safety class, and the class turned out to be a shambles and didn’t happen. Iagreed to it and haven’t fulfilled the obligatoin and the universe might be taking me up on it. There are factors I don’t know about yet. Perhaps by the end of July I will find out that I would have needed to be home. Though it isn’t always as obvious as that.

I’m going to be ok, I think.

I am really sick of worknig on motorcycles. I am supposed to be a writer,not a mechanic. I hate mechanics )(not the people). I hate the fiddliness and gruntworkiness and sheer effort and time-sonsumingness of it. And I hate this supid web tv thing that keeps eating my letters and putting the cursor in random places that bear no resemblance to where I clicked.

One solution: new bike with warranty. Uh-huh. Ain’t gonna happen unless I pay for it myself. Apparently the universe would like to partially support my need to be a writer by saying “It ain’t gonna come easy, sister.” Apparently I am not special and will not get to write/publish one bok a year. Book. Bok is what chickens say.

When raven’s roads 2003 failed because of Arnie, I decided to do Raven’s Quest, visit all the state markers and leave a book at each one. Short tris, essay. TRIPS dammit! Maybe that is what I shall do this summer. I can probably still make it to Vegas for the wedding.

So, this self sufficiency thing sucks. I wanted to be able to do it on writing alnoe. That would require trips to generate books. I have learned or am learning or maybe more accurately the universe would like me to learn that planning i soverrated. But a part time job or a temp job might be in order. In N Out is hiring. There is always something. Might be time to start Raven’s Roads, the newsletter/magazine.

So, here we go again.

I cannot possibly trust this bike. Whether it is something simple or not, and whether I can remember how to “hotwire” it, Nevada is way too remote and empty for a bike I can’t believe in.

I don’t know if I can sell it, since it is untrustworthy. As I sit, it is, indeed, a dog. Perhaps as a parts bike, or a project bike. In which case I threw away a couple of thousand dollars. That’s more than any normal person can spare.

If I sell Arnie and Beastie this summer, perhaps I can get something better. Something different. I got a kick out of riding this big stonking bike, but I can’t do u-turns worth *** and it’s not nimble. Lately the thought of “sport-tourer” springs to mind. Something completely different. But with my luck, that will break down too.

I’ve established that at least the diarrhoea isn’t a case of nerves, since I feel sick and have abused the poor john at least once since I got back. I may actualy throw up by the end of the day. I don’t want to leave this room until I am sure it’s not “just” emotions. Not much good to have my seat and electrics in disarray and having to keep running into the casino.

So, we joked and got excited about the trip and rolled our bikes off. I turned on the ignition, engine, choke. Click. Click. Lights were on, side stand was up, nothing but the dry click. The stupid poooooting bike would not start. Dead. Kaputtsky. It’s not the battery. I’ve had this problem before. It’s the stupid pooting starter.

I refrain from kicking the bike and sweetly tell my friends that they *must* go on their ride, now, before it goes too hot. They are sensible and do that. I have a vague idea how to get the bike started and there is a Suzuki dealership in town. I have a motorcycle towing service. I may be stuck here until Monday, but I’m going to try the cheap solution first (fixing it myself with or without Carolyn’s help.)

I don’t quite make it to my room before my emotions start kicking in, but nobody notices. Someone says she used to have a helmet like mine. Under normal cirucmstances I would have chatted to her but I don’t trust my voice just yet.