What Goes Around Comes Around

A bit over a week ago, Melissa and I were out on a bike ride when we passed a rider parked at the end of a driveway. He was on the phone, and his helmet was on the ground next to his bike, which is sometimes a sign of a rider in distress. We turned around and went back to check on him. He’d stopped to help another rider in distress. He got them on their way, but then his own bike wouldn’t start. I carry a booster pack in my saddlebag, and got him on his way within minutes. I have no issue being the instrument of good karma for the rider who stopped to help someone, then himself needed help. (You’ll be able to read the long version of this story on ADVRider soon, which is why I hadn’t posted it here, but it hasn’t been published yet. I’ll come back and add the link once it’s up.)

Fast-forward to this past Sunday. We decided to take a ride to Eureka Springs. There was absolutely no parking downtown, even for a motorcycle, so we punted to the Horseshoe Grill, where Melissa had eaten before. Even there, we got the last available parking space, but at least we could park, and we had an enjoyable lunch. When I rolled the bike out for her to get on, an outdoor diner called over to us that the back tire was flat! I rolled back into the parking space, and sure enough, it was. For years, I carried a tire patch kit with me for situations like this, but I stopped when I got my KLR 650. It had tubed tires, which a patch kit can’t fix. My V-Strom has tubeless tires once again, but I didn’t have room to carry a patch kit for a long time. When I got saddlebags, it was long enough after I got the bike that I just didn’t think of it. All this to say, I was completely unprepared for a flat tire.

While pondering options, a nice young man wearing a Christian Motorcyclists Association vest walked over to offer help. He and his family had a patch kit and tire pump at their hotel not far from the restaurant and offered to go get them for us, along with a prayer. I’m not a religious person myself, but I believe in using all the tools in the toolbox. I also had no wish to risk offending our guardian angel by declining. Before long, he and his family left in their SUV, then returned with the SUV and the Harley containing the group’s patch kit and tire pump, which they had just bought that same morning. (Needless to say, I will be adding a patch kit and pump to my own “everyday carry” saddlebag before venturing out again.)

With their tools, I made short work of removing the spike in my tire, reaming out the hole, and then plugging it. My Battery Tender plug was exactly what the pump needed to plug into. I inflated the tire, felt all around the plug to check if it was leaking, and felt no escaping air. It was fixed! I thanked them profusely for their help. They simply said that’s what they do, help bikers in need as they travel. This family does the good Christian thing properly, or at least how I imagine it should be done.

Naturally, I took it easy on the way home, with Melissa on the back and a compromised back tire. We made it all the way to the dirt road she lives on before the bike started handling a bit funny, like the back tire wasn’t as planted as I would like it to be. I limped very slowly the rest of the way home. As I’d feared, the tire had sprung a leak again. The plug probably let go, but that was okay. We’d made it safely.

I could see about getting the tire patched, but I don’t like the look of those cracks between the tread blocks. That usually happens in an old, dry-rotted tire. I checked the date code stamped into the sidewall, and that tire was made in April 2023, so it’s not very old at all. My theory is that unknowingly riding on a punctured tire, two-up, put too much strain on the tire once it started losing its air. It was quite hot when we got back to Melissa’s place, and excessive heat can damage a tire. Between that, one known hole, and a failed plug, it’s safest to just replace the whole thing. Again. Because, of course, it happened to the tire I just got a month ago!

I’ve already ordered a new tire to ship to Cycle Gear in Rogers, just like last time. However, I may have to contend with the fallout of a tornado that blew through town early Sunday morning. The part of town it demolished appears to be far from the store, but power lines in town are like a plate of spaghetti right now, so I’ll have to see how soon they’ll be able to install it. The spooky part is that we were driving all over Rogers on Saturday afternoon, visiting various motorcycle dealers for Melissa and her sons to sit on a bunch of different bikes to see what they liked. (They all plan on taking the course and learning to ride, and not just because of me.) We’re about an hour away from Rogers, and the mountains here tend to break up storms that might otherwise produce tornadoes. We didn’t even get a thunderstorm that night. Rogers is pretty flat, though, and arguably on the edge of Tornado Alley. Regardless, I’ll have to wait and see how that all shakes down.

Until then, I’m off the bike. I’ve already rolled it back into the trailer, both to keep it out of the weather and to strap down the front, jack up the back, and remove the back wheel, just like I did a month ago. It’s a bummer, but at least we’re safe. The fastest roadside assistance I’ve ever had was an enormous help, too.