Moab in the Mirror

Moab is in our rear view mirror, breakfast is starting to settle, we're all fuelled up and ready for the next 100 miles.  We catch I-70 West for the 30 miles or so that we need to take it, our cruise speed goes from 70-75 mph to around 85 so the miles click by in a blink.  The cooler air feels good in comparison to the oven we rode through yesterday although we are starting to ride with a bit of cloud cover and the threat of showers the weather seems to be holding out for now. 

The traffic on the Interstate isn't too bad, although I still hate riding the Interstates when I could be taking a back road.  Back roads always seem to offer just a bit more to look at and to think about as you ride through.  All of those thoughts that pop into your head, well at least mine, prompted by your senses; the smell of alfalfa - now where's the field; I wonder why they let that barn go, what's the story behind it? Is there a place we can get Ice Cream any where around?  On the Interstate it seems as if I spend my time thinking about everyone else on the road.  Before we know it the exit to 191/6 North is in front of us and we're heading north once again. 

It always feels good to know that we were ticking off the miles in the right direction.  Shortly after our exit on to 191/6 there's a fuel stop and since we've put some pretty decent miles on the group decides it's time to sync up with everyone.  After the quick stop, a little bit of joking around and we are off again, our next stop - Helper, Utah.  The plan is to fuel and then start the trek north-easterly towards Wyoming.  A mile or two down the road and it begins to rain, just a sprinkle to start with but soon turns into enough that we pull off to the side and get the leathers on, then it's back on the road.  The rains don't last long and don't slow our progress.  The road is wide open with very little traffic we may have seen a car or two so far.  Long open roads plus very little traffic is a motorcycle formula that only equals speed.  The posted limits are 55 and I'm certain that my speedometer hadn't seen that number in a while.  Over the rolling hills we went continuing to make time;  We (my wife and I) were riding second in formation out closest to the center line on the two lane highway when our day came to an abrupt halt. 

You see, along with all of the things that I love about riding back roads the one thing that I hate, as do all motorist, is that there is not the same level debris cleanup as there is on the Interstates.  At 70+ miles per hour I didn't see (until it was too late), and couldn't avoid the pot-metal piece of wheel rim that I was about to hit.  The rim was about 8 inches in lenght with a slight curve, it was also a very similar color of grey that nearly matched the pavement of the road.  When I did see it, I had just a split second to try to manuver around it, unfortunately I caught the edge of it and sent it upward in to my engine.  At the time I didn't know that it actually had pierced the engine casing, my focus was more on maintaining control of my bike which from the force of the impact had it's rear wheel lifted slightly off of the pavement as the metal passed underneth us.  Slightly shaken I began to slow and move to the right hand shoulder when the trail rider began blowing his horn and pointing right.  Immediately I pulled to the shoulder, stopped and got off of my bike only to find what little bit of oil that hadn't been blown out of my engine was now dripping to the pavement to add to the 40' oil slick I had left as my trail.  I checked to make sure my novice biker wife was ok, shaken, but ok.  I looked back down the road and my buddy who was trailing was slowly coming up next to us holding the piece of rim that we had hit. 

My heart sunk at the realization of a couple of things:  First and foremost; We were lucky to be alive, that could have easily thrown us.  and, My trip was now over - I had tools but nothing that would repair a 1 1/2 inch hole in an aluminum casing.  The bike that I worked so hard on, poured every spare penny into, and spent countless hours customizing for this trip was never going to make it's entrance into Sturgis.  On top of it all we were in the middle of no-where and it's starting to rain...

Motorcycle traveling