Dealing with Disaster: Nailed again
(published Motorcycle tour and Travel 1995)

	In my past  columns you've learned about working white water rafting and
back country fishing into your motorcycle camping trips.   This month I'd like
to pass on to you my  class notes from some painful lessons  learned on  a  trip
to the end of the road in Quebec.  It all had to do with tires, flat ones, and
plenty of them. 
	When you ride and camp in remote locations you  generally establish an
inverse relationship with emergency services.  If you break down in the pucker
brush, you can forget a rescue from a friend with a pickup truck.   That's why
trip preparation is vital.  It is well worth your time, energy, and money to
make sure your motorcycle is in top shape before you depart.  Do the work
yourself, and if you can't, get your mechanic to give the machine the once over.
 A detailed list is beyond the scope of this column, so consult your service
manual for details.  
	No matter what model or make of motorcycle you ride,  pay attention to your
tires. Your life depends on that narrow strip of rubber beneath you.  Check
tires carefully for nicks, cuts, and any embedded nails.  If I had checked mine
before my trip I would have found the reason my rear tire had been losing a
pound of pressure every couple of days.  Replace any tires that are badly worn
or near the end of their service.  Check pressure religiously.  Practice using
patch kits, or carry a spare tube.  
 	Last month I was exploring Anticosti Island, a one hundred and forty mile
long forest with a population of 300.  There were no services on the island, and
the nearest motorcycle repair shop was a hundred miles of gravel, five hours of
Atlantic, and another hundred miles of blacktop away.  Break down  in wilderness
like this, and it's up to you to get yourself out.  The "TransAnticostian
Highway" was a ribbon of dry choking gravel, built on a layer of sharp-edged
rocks.  While brushing  off the dust from my leathers halfway across the island
I discovered that my R1100GS BMW had a flat rear tire.  I found a prong of a
tiny packing crate staple embedded in the groove between the knobs of the tire.
Now was my chance to use the tubeless repair kit.   I reamed the serrated
mega-sewing plug needle into the tiny hole.  Next, I slid the plug onto the
needle, smeared them with  glue and pushed.  I ripped the plug in half.  No
problem- two more plugs.  Rip, rip. Panic.  One last chance.  I squeezed the
last of my glue onto  a shred of a plug that miraculously slid in.  Pump it up
and go.  No.  A faint  hiss came from the tire, and closer inspection found a
second hole an inch from the plug.  I begged a ten year old tubeless kit from
another rider.  I tore two more rubber donuts to shreds until realizing that the
tiny hole was too small for the plugs.  It's an unsettling feeling to rip the
heck out of your own tire but a large screwdriver did the enlarging trick.  I
was down to the the last scrid of glue from the tiny tube but a partial plug
held. The tire survived the remainder of the trip, two-up, fully loaded over
gravel and another six hundred miles of highway.  	
	Off island two days later,  another rider in our party discovered his own
flat rear tire.  It was late Saturday afternoon.  Steve had a tubed tire but no
repair kit or spare tube.  Some local Harley riders who were gassing up at the
station took the tire over to a mechanic who opened up his garage to fit a new
tube on the rear tire.  All set? Nope! Steve blew the rear tire out a half-hour
later at about 60 mph.  Disassembly of the tire revealed that the mechanic had
squeezed a 2.75 x 17 inch tube into a 3.50 x 18 inch tire.  The original
punctured tube was sitting in a trash can back at the shop.    A Quebecois motel
owner called a friend who owned dirt bikes, who hauled over his collection  of
used and punctured tubes that were then repatched,  mounted, rejected and
remounted again for the next  7 hours until a combination of the right tube, the
right patching job, and a lucky seating of the tire finally held.
	Be prepared.  I've already practiced repairing tires at home.   Tubeless
folks should be sure to bring extra plugs, plenty of glue, and a small round
file to abrade the edges of the hole.  Tubed riders need the tools to remove the
wheel, a good set of tire irons, small bottle of detergent to help seat the bead
on the tire, a spare tube and  a fresh repair kit.  I'd also recommend carrying
CO2 cartridges, a small collapsible mountain bike pump, or a small electric pump
that works off an accessory plug on your motorcycle.
	But you may prevent the problem before you leave.  I wish I had.  

Tom Jamrog rides his R1100GS BMW to northern destinations.  Correspondence
welcomed c/o MT&T or via e-mail at balrog@midcoast.com.