Hey Willie, I’m Back on the Road Again
In this post I’m writing about the two–day trip from the Poconos to Tampa. I’ll pretend it is being written more or less real time instead of two days after I finished the trip.
It’s Tuesday, 08/10 at 9 AM, or at least it was when the events I’m describing here took place. I’m taking my leave of Lake Ariel the town not Lake Ariel the actual Lake. I’ve got a 2–1/2 hour drive down to the apartment in Broomall, where I will offload about half the ridiculously superfluous things I packed in the Forrester, a great vehicle by the way.
I departed Broomall right on schedule at 1 PM, the last time I will be on schedule for two days, as it happens. My waypoint is Florence, South Carolina, where I have booked a room in a chain of motel/hotels on the Choice Hotels site. It’s no better or worse than others, just one I happened upon a quite a while back and continue to use. Why Florence? It’s about halfway to Tampa.
I use Google Maps to plan my trips, and it says just shy of 16 hours. There was a time in my life when I would just drive straight through and get to Tampa about 5 AM if I believed the trip time. But of course Maps doesn’t take into account anything but time spent rolling the tires, no stops for gas, food, hygiene, and definitely no time for unexpected events. So Maps would put me in Florence about 9 PM, but I don’t believe that. Like so many things in my life lately, Maps was written by a pack of lying liars.
The bike seems to have been riding well on the trailer on the trip up to the Poconos. But this will be its first long trip, and while I would not say I am nervous, neither am I placidly unconcerned. On the way back to the apartment I stopped after a half hour, again after an hour, and with a couple of minor adjustments I became more confident that we would make it down to Tampa in excellent shape. Hubris is such a predictable and punishing form of arrogance. Remember that little incident I related about getting the bike up on the trailer yesterday?
In principle loading the trailer can be a one–person job. In practice that is just maybe barely possible, but with a helper it goes very smoothly. The only issue is keeping the bike upright and balanced, a piece of pie, easy as cake with the second person. But I cannot count on having someone else handy when I need to load it. So I got this really cool small winch at Harbor Freight:
If I take off the strike plate with the catch for the rear cargo door latch, the two mounting holes are just right to mount the winch. But the control grip and power wires are way, way too short. I need to be able to operate the winch standing beside the bike, which is just off the right side of the image above with the winch hook and cable attached to the helper straps affixed to the front forks. I needed two sets of jumper cables and spliced in extra long power leads made from a household extension cord. I now can control the winch 10 feet back from the car bumper with my left hand, while balancing the bike upright with my right hand. It worked perfectly at home the first time I tried it out. More hubris, so predictable …
Well, this time I wasn’t paying close enough attention while I was getting the first couple of straps on, and the bike fell over on one side and came to rest on the trailer’s left fender bracket. My hosts’ son was there and helped me get the bike upright and secured. The fender bracket looked undamaged, just bent slightly, and a little tug on it straightened it back out. It looked just fine. So on the drive to the apartment the next morning, no problems and it still looked fine when I departed for Florence.
Several hours later the second time I stopped for gas, I made the usual walkaround checking all the straps. The left fender looked funny, so I went over and found the mounting bolts and nuts were a little loose. That’s not supposed to happen. The right fender proved to be loose as well. I got a socket and wrench out and tightened the nuts down, and that’s when I found the left fender bracket had actually snapped at one end and the bracket was being held down and secured by one lonely bolt and nut. Guys like me don’t go anywhere without a bunch of bungees, so I got out a few and strapped the fender down so it wasn’t flopping around. So I reckoned no big deal, I’ll just take care of a permanent repair when I get to Tampa.
I got to Florence at midnight, no surprise there I know that Maps lies to me, and as I made a final walkaround before going in and getting my room, I found the other half of the left fender bracket had also snapped, and it was dangling at a wonky angle, supported only by a couple of bungees. The bracket also supports the tail light on that side. There was nothing more I could do so I went in, got to sleep at 12:30 and woke up at 6:30. This is not unusual for me. Exited the room quickly and found a way to strap the fender down very tightly with three more bungees and got on the road about 8 AM, projected arrival in Tampa about 4 PM according to Maps. Assuming no stops of any kind.
The rest of the ride was uneventful except when I went through Lakewood, FL about an hour and a half from Tampa on I–4, crossing the state southwest from Daytona to Tampa. Florida is famous, notorious really, for fierce afternoon summer thunderstorms that pop up out of nowhere and deliver torrential rain over a restricted area. The visibility can be unrestricted a mile away in bright sunshine and virtually zero under the cumulonimbus.
One of these hit me, and the view went from CAVU (clear air, visibility unlimited, aircraft pilot talk) to where I could barely see the car in front of me. Traffic slowed to a crawl, and rightly so:
These storms are localized but very intense and have been known to spawn tornados. Three minutes later I drove out from under it and back into bright sunshine.
I arrived at my sister’s house at 5:30 PM, so all in all an uneventful day. I’m pretty beat, so more later.
All the best,
From Tampa, FL at 4 PM on Thursday 08/12
Rex
