Day 7 - La Crosse, WI...well not quite

The sun comes up pretty early in these northern parts, so it was easier to get up this morning at 6:30 than I thought it would be, especially since I didn't conk out until about 12:15 a.m. Once up, it was that fun time of repacking everything and loading back up to head out. Wiped the top layer of bugs off the bike and noticed a new rock chip on the front. Boo hiss. I headed out right at 8:00, only about three miles away from I-94, with 250 to go before lunch.

While I didn't have the winds of Tuesday (heavenly relief), I also didn't have the balmy temperatures of Tuesday, either. No, they weren't balmy, really, but in comparison to today, the temps yesterday were a near heat wave. I headed out of Glyndon, MN, at 43 degrees and got into the Twin Cities at 48 degrees. I found it quite ironic that last Thursday I was sweating up a storm in St. Louis, wishing I'd packed my mesh jacket, and today my hands were doubling as ice cubes and I wished I had some heated gloves. There was a bit of road construction, but most of that wasn't too bad. However, the closer I got to the cities, the more impatient drivers became, tending to pass on the right as the preferred activity. I had my ultra simple directions again, and this time it worked, getting me to the PeopleNet headquarters in Chaska, where I met up with my main account rep and had lunch after a mini tour of the premises. It's kind of fun to be nonchalant about having ridden a bucketload of miles, and just 'dropping in'.

Just as the wind had sapped my strength the day before, the cold zapped me pretty good today, so even after lunch and a break of almost two and a half hours, I wasn't looking forward to those last 180 miles. I hadn't had rain yet, but the forecast for La Crosse, WI, wasn't good, and when I talked to Jim at the branch down there, it was raining even then. Rawr. Finally, I decided it was time to push off, and after the quick glamour shot (this time the braid stayed!) with Tim, I headed back out. Did have a little hairy traffic going around 494, but nothing too awful. However, by the time I got off to Highway 61, which would take me along the Mississippi River on my way to La Crosse, I was on fumes again, and took one of the first exits I saw to get gas.

Slight aside - when I was going across Missouri, I stopped to get gas in Columbia, and ended up taking an exit that wasn't the most commercial, and the gas station wasn't my favorite, so I never got off the bike while fueling. I took the magnetic tank bag off the front and set it on top of one of the saddlebags while fueling. Finished up and rode off. Just after I turned left onto the road that would take me back to the interstate, I looked in my right side mirror and saw my tank bag still resting atop the saddlebag, simply balancing there. I quickly pulled over and was able to get the bag back on the tank and keep going. No harm, not foul. When the bag is installed, I can't see it below the chin guard of my helmet unless I tilt my head down specifically to check.

Back to my Minnesota exit to get gas. I got off the bike and put it on its center stand to fuel, with the tank bag again resting on a saddlebag. I almost went inside for a quick bathroom break, but decided not to. Put on my rain jacket, hopped on the bike and rode back out to the interstate. At the light to turn right on the entrance ramp, I heard someone honking, but didn't look. As a rule, I don't look when folks honk...usually it's nothing I want to see and no one I know. Headed down the acceleration ramp and started down the road. However the wind patterns seemed different and I looked down. Saw the top of my tank instead of the top of my tank bag. Cuss!! The next exit had a frontage road that went right back to where I was, so I hopped right on that road and retraced to the gas station, but the headlights behind me looked familiar. As I was waiting to turn left into the gas station, the car that was behind me pulled up alongside, and the driver rolled down his window to hand me my tank bag :)) He was the one who honked and was following me to get my bag back to me. He said that he also rode and was always worried about leaving something behind. You'll never read this, Mr. Lexus Man, but I thank you again heartily for taking care of me. (Remember those prayers working in Kansas City? They're still carrying me in Minnesota...as there is more to see.)

Reunited with my bag, I keep rolling on. I stopped briefly to go ahead and put on my rain pants, since the mist has turned into a drizzle that keeps coming down. My road is a state highway that is going through several small towns, one of which is Red Wing, where the shoes are made. At one intersection, while waiting at a red light, I notice there seems to be some smoke coming from the front of the bike. It wasn't billowing or bad, so I thought maybe some oil had dripped on the radiator, and figured I'd keep pushing on to La Crosse, WI, if I could, and get it checked out tomorrow, since that was basically a rest day (or a "cruise around and see the sights" day). Shortly out of Red Wing, I had a brief loss of power, similar to what I'd had in Fargo when I ran low on gas, but that couldn't be the problem, because I was only about 40 miles into this tank. The bike stabilized back out and I got to second guessing myself, wondering if I'd inadvertently caused it to happened by pressure on the throttle rocker. Whatever the case, I continued to ride gently. I passed a couple of small burgs, still pushing on.

As I came up to Lake City, MN, there was a really pretty pull-off to be able to take pictures, but, similar to yesterday, when it's cold and I'm tired, I don't much want to stop to take pictures. I kept going, figuring La Crosse was only another 50 miles or so. Just past Lake City, there was a gentle hill, and as I started up it, the bike again lost power (uh oh). This time it was a decided slow-down, and twisting the throttle did nothing, so I pulled in the clutch to let it coast up the hill and the engine died while it was still rolling.

Honestly, after seeing God's care in Kansas City and again even today with the tank bag, I wasn't terribly upset when this happened. Just curious to see what would happen. I was supposed to check in with another friend in La Crosse when I got there, so I called him to let him know I wouldn't make it. It was still raining, and I'd come to a stop just past a kind of rural driveway to a house up a bit of a hill. It didn't look like anyone was there...lots of big windows, but not many lights. There was a Jeep in the driveway, so I trudged up the driveway, hoping I wouldn't look too scary for anyone who might be there. Just as I was getting to the top of the drive, a door beside the garage door opened and a gentleman came out, asking if I was having problems. I said yes, that my bike was broken and I was very sad (although with a pretty chipper voice and a smile). He said, "Well, you picked the right place to break down..." and clicked his garage door opener. The lifting door revealed four motorcycles lined up showroom style in the right half of the two car garage...a couple of British bikes, an '08 Ducati monster and a Suzuki Bandit, all gleaming and beautiful. I almost laughed in sheer joy!

I told him a bit of my story (he was at the house by himself, getting ready to leave and meet his cousin for supper) and we walked back down the driveway to look at the bike. I showed him the bad news I'd noticed when I stopped the bike. The sight glass on the side of the clutch case that shows your oil level was scarily empty. When I'd left Chaska, it was 90% full. Now, there was nothing. I was able to start the bike and ride it up the driveway into his garage, and we put in a quart and a half of some synthetic oil he had, but still nothing was showing up in the sight glass. Started it again, and with some throttle, could get the burning oil to duplicate. There is a shop in town that he (Dennis, the knight on the white charger) knows, and the bike is spending the night in his garage until we can get it down to the shop in the morning. In the meantime, he let me borrow his (white) Jeep to be mobile tonight, while I'm staying at the AmericInn. In the morning, we are due to connect and figure out plan B on the bike. He seemed to think with his connections at the shop, as well, there won't be any danger of me getting taken for a ride with the repairs. So here I am again, with what would seem to be a bad situation, but giving God glory for his watchcare. Tomorrow will hopefully tell what the scoop is on the bike. I'm not really worried about it...there's no point :)

As before, I've reached the stupid sleepy point, so I'm throwing in some pics and calling it a day. But still smiling :) And I did go back and get the lake shot that was pretty...