Wow, where to start? Last time I wrote was from a McDonald's just east of the Susquehanna. I was waiting for the downpour to subside, but decided that I was hitting the road again at 11am no matter what.
So I suited back up, and went into the rain to start the bike. Guess what? It wouldn't start. So there I was in the rain, my feet still wet from earlier, I was cold, and I was wondering what the heck I was gonna do. After messing with the choke, throttle, and starter, I found the magic combination that got the bike running. However only one of the two cylinders were firing. Great...
Even though I had to use the throttle to keep the engine alive at idle, I decided to hit the road in hopes the other cylinder would just start working. After about 2 miles, I realized my dream was not gonna come true.
So I pulled over on the side of 462 and removed the seat to get to the tool kit...in the cold rain. I got to the point where I had the tank propped up and I inspected the ignition wires. There was nothing obviously wrong. I realized I was not going to be able to troubleshoot this problem with the tools I had (let alone the environment I was in).
I pondered my awful luck for no more than 30 seconds before a van zipped by and violently pulled-over into the shoulder ahead of me. Then, the driver threw it in reverse and snaked around me so that the front of his car faced me in the shoulder.
"You need help?" came blaring out of a PA system. I was like, "uhhhh..." I walked over to the passenger side door, and the driver rolled the window down. The guy's name was Raul (I don't know the spelling, but the phonetics were like Rah-ool). He was a scooter rider, and stopped for me because he'd want someone to stop for him if he were in the same situation. I've since decided to adopt the same code...
Anyway, Raul told me about Trans-Am Cycles in Lititz, PA, which was about 12 miles from where I was. He gave me their number (well not exactly, but gave me enough info to figure it out), and said he'd, "pray for me." Thank you, Raul.
So I put my bike back together, got my luggage re-attached, and hobbled my one-cylinder bike to Trans-Am. It was a rough ride, because the dead cylinder would kick-in rarely (causing the machine to accelerate sporadically).
So I finally arrived at Trans-Am, and Dave, from the service department, was ready to dive in. After about 2-3 hours, I was back on the road with new plugs and a thoroughly-cleaned pair of carbs. Trans-Am was so accommodating, I am in debt to them for taking me on such short notice and turning around a completely road-worthy bike.
More rain, wind, and hypothermia awaited, but I finally ended up at my destination. It took me all day to drive, effectively, 100 miles.
Last word this time? I know I hate them, but I will always own a cell phone from this point on.