We were preparing to switch the lights out last night for shut eye when the piercing alarm sprang into life. Looking at each other, we chucked on our clothes, grabbed the passports and exited the room to join the hordes of other guests exiting the hotel.
There was no procedure to account for patrons; no fire brigade fronted up to do a floor by floor check; it was thirty minutes later when a guy wearing jandals apologised for the inconvenience and advise everyone that it was safe to go back to respective rooms.
Huh, for some reason, I had grabbed the damned remote!
About to embark on today’s ride, a flatty. Bugger. Had to unload and repair and when doing so, it looked like the tyre sides had split a fraction. This would have happened because we may have got a slow leak toward the end of yesterdays ride and rode on a squishy tyre thinking it was the head wind.
Deciding to only replace the tube, the plan was to ride as far as we could before the tyre died. With a gusty tail wind, off we rode covering the first 50 kms in an hour an a half and everything still inflated.
Indian Head town was half way and our place we stopped for lunch. The wind had picked up and a weather check indicated the winds on the flats were to increase to up to 70 kms/hour. A fox trying to out run us up the side of the motorway ran out of puff after nearly a kilometres later. Couldn’t get a video as it was all hands on the bars to keep the bike upright, even though the wind was behind us.
And then it happened. The split tyre pinched the tube and it de-puffed meaning our puff also came to a complete stop. We walked the rig for 50 metres up the road and then proceeded to change both tube and tyre whilst vigilantly monitoring gear so as it didn’t lift and take off. What a difference the replaced features made, it meant more sped for less effort.
Find a place at Wolseley or take the risk and keep pace for the last 24 kms to our perferred destination? We went for it and rode the bike like it was stolen. We averaged between 38-42 kms/hour the whole 24 kms. Persperation dribbled down the sides of our faces from under the helmet as the odometer rolled over the numbers.
It’s amazing how you can get more puff when it really matters. Taking the risk paid off as it didn’t rain. The wind certainly amped up more knots even after we arrived. Grenfell township was deserted with nothing open except the garage diner.
And a place to stay.
To all the Canadian Dad
‘s, happy fathers day.
Mental note: do not take remote in an evacuation!