Curses, foiled again!

Alas, the best laid plans...

This morning, we picked up R2, loaded up the bikes, and after lingering a bit at the Santa Fe Hostel, set out toward Flagstaff, just as rain clouds were moving in. We made it a few blocks... and noticed my headlight was out. Shit. A quick check showed it was "just a blown fuse." I had a workable spare, popped it into place, my headlight was back in action, and we were on our way again.

Our route to Albuquerque skirted rain clouds dropping some of the sharpest little pellets (along with some gusty winds), but soon, we got out from under the clouds, and a blue sky, good roads, and climbing desert temps lay spread out before us. We were zipping along at 75 mph, the local speed limit on the Interstates, which we were taking in the hopes of reaching San Diego by Friday. As we passed by Albuquerque, me for the second time without stopping, I looked at the downtown to the south of the Interstate and thought, "I'll have to visit you, someday."

Julie's fuel tank is small for this trek -- one hundred miles per tank is a good day -- so we typically just follow her bike's cycles for when we stop for fuel and a welcome stretch of the legs. When we exited about 30 miles west of Albuquerque, there was no gas in sight, Firefly was running on fumes and the sun was HOT, HOT, HOT. We turned the bikes off to discuss, and asked a passing motorist, who directed us a few miles off the Interstate to a gas station. Hopping back on my bike, I hit the starter and... oh, no, not again!

Nothing. Not enough juice to start the bike, but more than we had on Sunday near Chama. I quickly popped off the side panels to inspect the battery. It seemed fine -- levels were in range, and there were no obvious signs of the acid boiling. Shit, shit, shit. Every second sitting still in full riding gear is hot in normal summer temps; these were far warmer than that to which we're accustomed.

But necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention. The idea hit me to strip out all but the master fuse out of the bike, effectively shutting down all of the electrical systems except those needed to maintain spark. If the battery had enough juice to start the bike this way, without all those other draws, it might get us to some shade and some help so we could troubleshoot the problem.

To my surprise, it worked! With all of its other electrical systems disabled, R2 fired right up, and I led us a couple of miles -- Julie behind to be our collective tail and brake lights for other vehicles -- to a gas station where we could get Firefly refueled and think through our next steps, hopefully in the shade, but as it turned out, in air conditioning.

When we were stranded en route to Chama, we'd located a Honda motorcycle dealer in Rio Rancho, which is quite close to Albuquerque. Since one of the fuses I pulled out was nearly melted, my thoughts began going to a accidentally grounded wire or a break in the wiring harness, which could mean that having a dealer's access to parts would be helpful. I certainly didn't want to risk riding any further than we had to, but we also didn't think a tow was needed, since R2 was running, if dark.

So, we set off, back toward Albuquerque. The riding was a little harrowing, actually: fierce winds, traffic and road construction that made it difficult for Julie and I to stay together. We pulled off at the western edge of town, and I started making calls. Three times in a row, I struck out: even the Honda dealership wouldn't work on a bike -- even their make of own bike -- that was more than 10 years old. Then someone suggested Greg at High Velocity Cycles, on the east side of town. He said the magic words: "Yep, sure, bring 'er in and I'll have a look."

On the way to Greg, we rode through town on Route 66, and past the Route 66 Hostel, our new home away from home, well, from our plan I guess.



We booked a room, dropped off our stuff, and headed east to Greg's. He spent 10 minutes looking over the bike with his multimeter, and gave the verdict: the stator (which generates the charge) and the regulator/rectifier (which clean and manage the charge) were both shot. About $200 in parts, which won't arrive before Thursday morning. Greg is going to do some more diagnostics in the morning, and call me once he's talked to the parts distributor.

Sigh. While I fret a bit about what this recent experience might foretell for our adventures ahead on the Alaskan Highway, I'm trying to just surrender thoughts about what might be, and enjoy the experience that we are having. I'm lucky that my travel companion is as easy going about the unexpected as she is. In the meantime, we're in a cozy place in a fun town, with people who can help. Surely, there are lots of bright sides to be found there. If anyone has some suggestions for spending time in and around Albuquerque (accessible on our one reliable motorcycle), please let us know!