rem
A man who don't lie, ain't got nothin' to say.
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Well, the trip to Skagway Monday was a bit of a bust. Wet, rainy, crappy, yech, gag, puke weather. Ron was keen so off we go. Got to Customs on the U. S. side and the guy behind me gets out of his truck and starts walking toward me. I figure I had annoyed him in another life and he was gonna beat the snot out of me. He says, "your rear tire is flat". Suuuuuuuuuumbich. And so it was, or maybe 10 lbs of air. Pretty soggy. So there is a nice paved pull off right beside us. I push the bike out of line and Ron does too. Customs guy, who looks like a retired drill sergeant, comes pumping out of the booth. I guess getting out of line is a no no. But once I show him the tire and our passports, he becomes almost pleasant. I have to push the bike past the customs booth "for a variety of reasons" says the drill sergeant. "YES SIR, NO PROBLEM" says me. Ron and I double down into Skagway, have lunch, think it over, and decide to leave the bike there. I phone the Great Bear (my lovely wife Rita) and she says she'll come and get me. I didn't want to double all the way back to Carcross. Ron is like 230 and I'm about 220 with all the gear on.
Rita shows up on schedule and we have an uneventful ride back to Whitehorse. I grab a friend and head back with my motorsickel trailer yesterday. Load the bike, all easy peasy, and haul him back to Yukon Honda where he awaits now for repair. I'll know later today if the tire is fubar or not. Given the forecast is for the best weather of the entire year so far, tire is probably toast. And tire selection here is poor.
Anyway, that's my story. Lot's of fun. I was lucky the tire didn't give out on me during one of my 75 mph lean overs. Jeeze.
I knew you'd be worried sick not having heard from me. Oh, stop. You're embarrassing me. No, really, I'm fine. Oh, quit. You're making my neck red. I'm fine, really. Just quit. R
Rita shows up on schedule and we have an uneventful ride back to Whitehorse. I grab a friend and head back with my motorsickel trailer yesterday. Load the bike, all easy peasy, and haul him back to Yukon Honda where he awaits now for repair. I'll know later today if the tire is fubar or not. Given the forecast is for the best weather of the entire year so far, tire is probably toast. And tire selection here is poor.
Anyway, that's my story. Lot's of fun. I was lucky the tire didn't give out on me during one of my 75 mph lean overs. Jeeze.
I knew you'd be worried sick not having heard from me. Oh, stop. You're embarrassing me. No, really, I'm fine. Oh, quit. You're making my neck red. I'm fine, really. Just quit. R