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  • Thomas Fishel

A Hot Mess

When we arrived in Bourbonaise, Illinois at 1:30 on Wednesday, I was excited. I wanted to check into our rooms and sneak in a nap since we had worked until 2:42 am on Justin’s bike. No such luck, the cranky desk clerk said absolutely no check in before 3 pm. So I went out to the parking lot, pulled out a lawn chair and worked on the previous blog post. At 3:20, still no rooms. Finally, at 4:15, success! Three rooms and I lugged all the luggage to rooms to discover that I had no sheets on my bed. Well, I just figured they were still being laundered because of how late our check ins took. No big deal.

Jared, Ziggy and Steve made it in with full miles as did Doug and Kelly. Justin’s bike was running great and then it just quit. Another mag issue. Steve and Justin tried to fix it along the road, but no success.

Back to my story, Steve wanted to go to the room around 6, and you guessed it, still no sheets! We called housekeeping, instead of the front desk, and we immediately had sheets! Hurray!

The guys went to work. Jared completed his nightly maintenance and polished his up and then helped the rest of the crew.

Justin’s bike went on the lift and the cam cover came off.

Here’s what was left of the woodruff key holding the mag gear on.

Here’s the ring it made on the cam cover. Apparently, when Steve put the mag gear on the night before, the woodruff key wasn’t set right and once it worked itself out….trouble. So they cleaned the cam chest up and went to put a new woodruff key in. But…Steve dropped it and since it was getting dark, they had to get another one out. Justin and Jared laughed at him and told those around that “that’s what old guys do at night, look for their woodruff keys!”

They timed it and buttoned it back up.

Jared reworked and then made a piece to fix Justin’s rear brake again!

Ziggy’s bike needed the neck tightened up and the rear stand welded again. His gas tank needed some work too.

Steve changed his oil and routine maintenance.

So everything was set and ready to head to the National Motorcycle Museum in Anamosa, Iowa on Thursday.

Here’s where you just can’t make this stuff up. Steve and I went to our room. He washed the worst of the grime off with his powder hand cleaner, started the shower, hopped in, and then yelled for me. I walked in and their was water splashing off the toilet lid, across the floor and clean over to the sink. He says to me, “what am I going to do?” I squealed, “shut the shower curtain, you’ve got water everywhere!” He replied, “what shower curtain?” I looked at both ends of the shower and then back at him. We both busted out laughing as I grabbed all the towels we had (except mine) and threw them on the floor. Later on, he called the front desk to tell them that he didn’t expect to be billed for a shower curtain because we didn’t have one! They offered to bring one right up and he told them he didn’t need one now, but they might want to bring a mop when they came to clean the room in the morning. Never a dull moment, with my hot mess!


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