Night Riders

Wow. I can't believe it's taken me this long to get back to this. Talk about lifus-interruptus! Yeah, since last Saturday, it's been like a blur I've had so much shit going on. I was R/C for a Blackstone lunch ride last Saturday, fixed a water leak in Wendy's basement after that, and then we went out drinking afterwards. Sunday got wasted recovering from Saturday, and the Pat's getting dismantled by Miami didn't do much for my headache. Monday I took Mrs. Joker car shopping. Right now she's driving an 8 year-old mini-van that's starting to get tired. I think I owe her for the way she's put up with my biker life and my two road trips this season. That burned up the better part of both Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday I switched ISP's, so I was without internet access for that whole day. So, I apologize for making you all wait. It was not intentional. Anyway, without further delay, allow me to continue:

With the others gone, our situation became that much more tense and frustrating. When the sun finally disappeared behind a building, the relief from the heat was replaced by the cold sweat of anxiety as we were reminded that only a few hours of daylight remained. To say Wendy was upset would be putting it mildly, and there was little or nothing I could do to help her. Very much an Alpha female, Wendy is not the type you hug tight and whisper "everything's going to be alright" in her ear. All I could do is give her some space and focus on trying to think our way out of trouble. The fact that HOG had twice called back to tell me they were unable to locate a tow for us seemed incredible. I knew it was Sunday, but this was Chicago for God's sake! How can there be no available tow rigs in such a big city?? It didn't make any sense to me.

You'll notice that there are no more pictures at this stage. Personally, I was in no mood to take any, and I know Wendy wouldn't have appreciated it much. Fun time was long past and we had to focus on getting us and the bikes to a safe place before dark. Among the many signs posted in the parking lot of the BP station was one for a 24-hour towing company. Out of desperation I had given the number to the woman from HOG who was having such a hard time finding us a tow, and when my phone rang again, I looked at Wendy and said, "Cross your fingers." It was HOG, and they had reached the company off of the sign. The bad news was they wanted $500.00 to come get us! That just wasn't happening. The girl from HOG said she'd keep trying and call me back again.

I tried to get Wendy's mind off of yet another let down by trying to work out just what we were going to do when we did find a tow. All the Harley dealers were closed. With no place to take the bike to be fixed and no U-Haul to rent, there was only one option: Storage. But then what? Go get a room and stay in Chicago until Tuesday morning when the dealer opened up? After going over and over it until we were both starting to get on each other's nerves, we finally agreed on a plan. We had to get both bikes to some place they could be stored, rent a car, and then drive straight through to Massachusetts to get Wendy's truck and trailer. Then, we'd drive back to Chi-town to get the bikes, turn around, and drive all the way back home again. Yeah, I know, we didn't like it either, but we had very few alternatives.

Long shadows closed in on us as the sun projected the Chicago skyline across the landscape like dozens of outstretched hands. It was 4th down. After 3 straight incompletions, we needed to convert. My phone rang and I opened it up like a poker player checking his hole cards. It was HOG again, but this time the news was a little better. They had located two towing services willing to come out within an hour, but it would be $250 minimum for the tow, with HOG paying the first $100.00. We went with the guy who said he'd also be able to store our bikes for us. If he got to us in an hour, we'd be out of there with some daylight to spare. Finally! First down and Goal to go. This was the turning point. The guy showed up in about 40 minutes, was really cool, and thankfully knew what he was doing. Wendy gets real nervous about her girl being put on a flatbed...and this was twice now in the same summer.

As Wendy climbed into the cab of the flatbed, I was never so glad to hear my own V-Twin come to life, as I guided my ride out and away from the land of panhandlers and winos. We threaded our way through the streets and back onto the highway, bound for a tow yard in Oak Lawn, about a half-hour outside the city. When we arrived and got Wendy's bike off the flatbed, the truck driver asked her to try and start it again just for shits and giggles. As if nothing had ever happened, Wendy's Dyna-Wide roared to life on the first try. We both just stood there with our mouths open and giving each other the "WTF?" look. As it turns out, the driver was a brother. I think he said he rode a Super Glide or maybe a Dyna-Low. After asking us all the details of our day on the road, it was he who came up with the diagnosis.

Heat. That was the answer. If you remember from the last post, I related how we were stuck in traffic for a long time before the Illinois tolls. Apparently, Wendy's bike got so hot sitting in that backup, the relay that controls the anti-theft system wouldn't disengage. Even though we sat in the BP for over 4 hours, the bike still wouldn't start just before being put on the flatbed - and we did try it again. You'd think in that time she'd have cooled down, but it was a hot day even in the shade, and there was really no breeze at all. It was being on the back of that flatbed on the highway for 25 minutes that cooled her down. There was no other explanation that made any sense. In fact, Wendy chimed in at that point that she remembered 4 or 5 years back having a similar issue up in Laconia when the bike got too hot. That had to be the answer. The next question was, what to do now?

Wendy wasted no time making that decision; She was riding her bike. We both preferred to take our chances that overheating was the culprit, and that as long as she didn't shut her switch off again until we reached a motel, we should be fine. We paid the tow truck driver, and he was nice enough to drive us back through Oak Lawn to the highway on-ramp. I can't tell you how GOOD it felt as Wendy and I guided our bikes back onto the big slab and opened our throttles up. By this time, dusk had settled in and it would be dark before we made 30 miles. If we had any chance at all of catching up to the rest of the herd, that meant we'd have to ride for a few hours in the dark. I can't say I was big on that idea, but Wendy was on a mission, and I know better than to stand in her way when she sets her mind on something. Caution would be taking the bitch seat for a while. Warmth left us with the light, and I signaled Wendy to take an exit so I could put my chaps and jacket on. We figured where we were at on our map, and realized we could make up some good time if we rode as far as South Bend, Indiana.

Two very tired and dirty bikers pulled into the parking lot of the South Bend Howard Johnson's at around 10pm. It was the same place we'd stayed at on the way out. Our "dinner" consisted of some chips and crap we bought at the convenience store across the way. It was too late and we were too tired to even bother riding down the street to get real food. We got a room with two double beds and crashed. The plan was to be up early, shower, and get a good breakfast at the Denny's down the street. If we got back on the highway by around 7am, we might have a good chance of catching up with the others. We'd been in touch with them, and they were about 100 miles ahead of us. I remember thinking as sleep took over that as shitty as the last several hours had been, it would have really been hell without our cell phones. Right now as I write this I'm thinking that for the first time in years I was sharing a motel room with a woman I wasn't married to - and I was thinking about cell phones??? WTF!

Next up: Reunited and it feels so good!