Over the course of a week, juggling school/work/sleep/eat/and waiting for the mail to arrive with my goods, and only able to make it into the shop with a 30 minute window to work on my things on any given day: It took me over the course of a week, 3 days in and out of the shop, and then the work I did at my house and it all came down to about 6 hours of work, and this is what I accomplished:
*Truing front and rear rims.
*Rust busting off inner rims, (years of rain damage)
*Bearings front and rear replacement. (The rear bearings took a half hour alone to get out. They were like welded in there.)
*New tires mounted and balanced.
*Assembly and disassembly.
*Belt adjusting.
I finished this all Saturday afternoon, and still made it to an evening BBQ, and Rolled out to a class party. I wrote the first part of this really fast while I was drinking my coffee. Now to finish the story.
 |
| Just a little rust. |
 |
| Bed sheet awnings. |
The next day:
So I stayed at the house I partied at Saturday night, but only on 4 hours of sleep before getting woken by kids playing beer pong at 10:30 am. At that point, it was time to jump ship, so me and some guys went to the Waffle House. Now, it's funny how whenever I go to a Waffle House, it's when I've gotten no sleep the night before, and I look like hell. And yes, I brought that point up between my sips of coffee at the counter, and yes, the counter is the only place to sit at a diner. Whilst dining on hashbrowns, biscuits, and eggs over easy, I told the guys I wanted to take a ride up to Horseshoe Reservoir after breakfast, and they were unanimously like, "we're in."
There we were, the three of us, hung over as we were, headed up the two-lane roads through Cave Creek, AZ. I love this place, cause it's rugged, and southwestern, small and fun. We strolled around for a sec, but then it was back on the road and out through some gorgeous countryside, destination Horseshoe. We climbed out of the desert floor into the high desert for a while, through some sparse neighborhoods. I read somewhere that Danica Patrick lives out there somewhere. Anyway, it was nice slow going, just enjoying the scenery, keeping a watchful eye out for the turn off. And then there it was, up ahead about 400 ft, around a sweeping bend, and I could tell by the body language and lane position of tthe guy ahead of me that he didn't see it right away, so I had to lay on the horn to get his attention. After a few long horn blasts, he woke up, and quickly made a sharp left onto the turn to Horseshoe Reservoir.
These old paved roads out here in the desert are the kind where they used lots of little gravel and glue, so after years of sun and travel damage, the top layer is broken and a sifty top layer of pebble asphalt. It can be dangerous riding in the center of those lanes, so you have to keep an eye out and ride in the tire grooves to the left or right of the lane. Other than that, and an occasional rock in the road, it was smooth going for about a mile, and then it turned abruptly into washed out road and sand, which provided some fun traversing practice. Well, I'm one to take my bike anywhere my destination is, even if it's a shady/shifty sandy washed out road. This one was. I was relieved when the other guy on his much nicer Harley, was being a champ about it, and said he didn't care about the dirt. So we kept riding and riding and riding. I was much further ahead of him, and I knew we'd covered some hairy ground, so I waited up ahead for him and did a re-check of the distance to the reservoir. It was at this point that we realized we still had some heavy miles ahead of us, and at least another hour or two of that kind of riding to go, and with the washboard getting worse, we both agreed to take the other route to Bartlett Lake instead. I said I'd come back when I had more time to spend out there, rather than having to just turn around and head back. The 3rd guy with us, he was in a big old truck, and he wasn't even liking the washboard, so it was unanimously given that we turned around and headed back out and on toward Bartlett Lake.
After we left Bartlett Lake, we headed back to Cave Creek, to walk around the old town fun. The bars in town were hopping with bikers and music, eats and drinks by the time we rolled back through. You'll know where to find me.
See you on the road! In AZ.
These old paved roads out here in the desert are the kind where they used lots of little gravel and glue, so after years of sun and travel damage, the top layer is broken and a sifty top layer of pebble asphalt. It can be dangerous riding in the center of those lanes, so you have to keep an eye out and ride in the tire grooves to the left or right of the lane. Other than that, and an occasional rock in the road, it was smooth going for about a mile, and then it turned abruptly into washed out road and sand, which provided some fun traversing practice. Well, I'm one to take my bike anywhere my destination is, even if it's a shady/shifty sandy washed out road. This one was. I was relieved when the other guy on his much nicer Harley, was being a champ about it, and said he didn't care about the dirt. So we kept riding and riding and riding. I was much further ahead of him, and I knew we'd covered some hairy ground, so I waited up ahead for him and did a re-check of the distance to the reservoir. It was at this point that we realized we still had some heavy miles ahead of us, and at least another hour or two of that kind of riding to go, and with the washboard getting worse, we both agreed to take the other route to Bartlett Lake instead. I said I'd come back when I had more time to spend out there, rather than having to just turn around and head back. The 3rd guy with us, he was in a big old truck, and he wasn't even liking the washboard, so it was unanimously given that we turned around and headed back out and on toward Bartlett Lake.
 |
| This was the easy part. |
 |
| "she'll be comin round the mountain when she comes...." |
After we left Bartlett Lake, we headed back to Cave Creek, to walk around the old town fun. The bars in town were hopping with bikers and music, eats and drinks by the time we rolled back through. You'll know where to find me.
 |
| Rear Tire |
 |
| Front Tire |
I love my new treads.
No comments:
Post a Comment