Flat Tire in Traffic
by Linda Carruth

Saturday, October 6, 2007
We were planning for a Coshocton ride with John and Sherry, but there was no word from John. Scott called and left a message; he'll try again a little later. Time goes by, still no word. Something must be up.

It was already 84 degrees out, and was supposed to go up to 87 or 88 today. A hot day in early October! It was sunny out, with big puffies floating around instead of those foreboding fall clouds we usually see at this time of year. I took my leather, but wore short sleeves and thin jeans. I also took my jean jacket and my pink long sleeve, and cammy, but no fleece.

We left around 1:30. I throttled up to W 33rd with my noisy bike. Showing off? Yup, I sure was! We went around to the gas station, nothing unusual there. We pulled out and headed south on State Rd. It was a beautiful day. We took in all the usual sights on State, in Saturday afternoon traffic. Everybody's out shopping and what not, and will surely be enjoying the last of the patio days at all the local restuarants. At 303, Scott asked me if I wanted to go through Wadsworth. I said okay, and I told him that I might not have to stop until Dalton.

We had a nice ride down State Rd. It was warm, with coolish air but not too cool. Nice. I seemed to have backfired somewhere above Rt 18. It startled me; I'm a bit touchy today, and trying to be extra careful. The sun is at a lower angle now, but other than that, it looks and feels like a mid summer day.

We jagged over on 585 and continued down Rt 94. When we go through Marshallville I always read the caption on the sign in front of the church. Today there was a line from the new television show that Kevin Smith is involved in, Reaper. It read, "I've seen the future. Gods wins." It was an appropriate comment, I felt, even if from an inappropriate source. I felt it was appropriate to say that because one, of course God will win, and two, because people are fired up about the Indians being in the Division series playoffs. We idolize sports teams and fight over who is going to win. God will. Plain and simple. It was so timely. The clergy of this church has obviously taken this comment to another level. Good. It was kind of funny seeing that though.

We rode on towards Dalton. We made a bathroom stop and had a snack inside. I asked how much a cup would cost so we could share the pop we just bought and sit down and eat. The girl just told me to take it. We sat at one of their high little tables with the high chairs. I hate those, but we wouldn't be there for long anyways.

After our break, we headed on down towards 241 and turned left in Mt Hope, by Mrs. Yoder's, to stay on 241. From there we headed down to Millersburg. We had to stop behind a long line of traffic on the last part of 241. We were just at the top of a hill. We shut off the bikes and dismounted. We walked away just enough to see that they were having some kind of classic car parade through Millersburg on Rt 39. A lot of people got out of their cars and walked down there. I took some pictures. People were just walking away from their cars, some in convertibles. Good day for it. We came back and almost started up again, but then we waited some more. Then when we finally get the okay to start moving, the traffic cop makes us go straight.

We rode through a maze of side streets, all pretty benign until we came to one turn. It was a tight tight turn and then a sharp drop. An oh-my-God kind of drop. I wouldn't want to go down that thing in a car, much less a motorcycle, but I did. Had to. It felt like I was pointing straight down. I course I knew better, after being on so many roller coasters, but I know the decline has to be to a certain degree to feel that way. Yikes.

We finally found our way around to Rt 62. We turned right and then soon bore left, up to Rt 39. There was more traffic there, and we almost went left, but didn't at the last. There was a do not enter sign down that way. We went right on 39 and made our way around and got going back in the right direction, away from 241 and out of Millersburg. Once headed out of town, there was a long line of traffic coming in the other direction. We had to slow down for traffic turning into the gas station. It gave me time to look over at the pool on the right, which was closed. On a day like today you would expect there to be gobs of people enjoying the pool, but obviously they had already closed and winterized for the season. We had to be let in to get into the gas station ourselves. We parked right away. Scott seemed to think we'd be stuck there for a while. I just said let's take a break and we'll see.

I went into the store to hit the bathroom. It was nice and cool in there. An older couple was waiting there (there's only one) joking about pee and toilet seats and the man/woman thing. I went along, why not? They were nice and friendly. Once out, we sharded a drink and putted over the pumps to top off the tanks. There was no traffic at all by this time. Scott gets nervous about being stuck in traffic. I don't. I get more nervous about riding in traffic, but that's all. He's claustrophobic too, so that doesn't help. Sitting in traffic is just another way of feeling trapped. I often wonder if something happened to him as a child, something he can't even remember, to make him that way. It just seems odd to me, and unnecessary, but everybody's different, I guess.

We went back through Millersburg and got into some more heavy traffic. A traffic cop held up some traffic to let us through to turn left onto 241. That kind of made up for earlier, but I don't know if it was the same cop. We had planned to go up 39 and find a road back, but by this time we figured we might as well just go back the way we came. So, we just headed back on 241 to Mrs. Yoder's.

On the putt back, we wound up behind a couple on some kind of orange bagger, possibly a Goldwing, with a car behind him. The guy on the bagger was going 40-45mph all the way back from before Benton. It's 55mph through there, except for a short stretch going through Benton where it's 35mph.

Eventually we got to the restaurant. Scott parked in the bank parking lot, pulling in to a spot close to the alley. All we had to do was pull through to go out the alley. Good job, Scott! I'm breaking him down so he won't be such a hard case all the time. We went in to eat. The food was good today, but I couldn't eat as much; it was too close to that snack we had. We each had coffee after dinner though. No dessert. I started out too full. I hoped the coffee would kick in for the ride home though.

We left out to come home. It was so easy to pull out of there. Going back on 241 was nice. All the buggies were on the opposite side of the road, not much of a problem at all. We headed down 94. The Dalton leg was okay other than having to watch for all those holes and fissures in the road. We stopped in Dalton to use the bathroom. From there, we had a nice ride up to Wadsworth. At some point, between Dalton and 585, or maybe it was the Dalton leg, I heard a loud pop just as I went over a bump. It sounded like a bad bump and a backfire all at once. It scared me but everything seemed okay. It felt, or sounded, like it came from the front of the bike. I had that backfire on the way down, too. It all seemed very odd.

Otherwise, we had a pretty nice ride home. It was still warm, with some cool air, but it felt really good. We stopped in Wadsworth at our usual spot, the Citgo station by the Mexican restaurant. We hit the bathroom. Scott bought us a Capu to share, and I changed glasses. I put on my pink long sleeve but no jean jacket. It still felt too warm for sleeves, but I knew what was ahead. I figured I can always push my sleeves up if I get too warm once we're back in the city.

We rode up State Rd, enjoying for what might be one of the last times of the riding season, the canopied trees that grow over the roadway between 162 and Ridgewood. As we made our way up State Rd, it gradually grew darker. The sun went down and it got dark while we were on this last leg home. We were going through the hills and curves above Rt 18 around 7pm. I noticed a tiny spider living on my bike and I got it with my gloved hand somewhere in Hinckley. We made our way north, past 303, past 82, etc., etc.

Somewhere above Pleasant Valley, I heard a pop as I went over a bump. What, again? I thought. Once is a coincidence, twice is alarming. I stopped for a light above Snow Rd and looked down at the bike front to see if I could see anything wrong or out of place. Scott wants to stop at John's house. I just said, "Let's go home." He said, "Let's go to John's." Again I said, firmly, "Let's go home!" I didn't elaborate, but I wanted to get my bike home and inspect it. We stopped briefly for a light at Snow Rd and then rolled on.

Once I picked up speed, I heard a funny buzzing noise. Then something didn't seem right. Scott it getting way ahead of me. I didn't know if the noise was me or coming from something around me. Or the bike next to me. I used my peripheral vision to get a glimpse of the bike next to me. I was pretty sure it was a Harley but they don't sound like the noise I'm hearing. The bike was slowing down and wobbling, something wasn't right. I suspected something mechanical. I didn't think you could ride this well with a flat tire. We got close to the Post Office and I put my signal on. Just then, the guy next to me yelled, "YOU HAVE A FLAT TIRE." We had to stop for the light at the Post Office and I planned on pulling in there. Scott turned around, looked, and told me to ride it home easy (like I could ride it any other way; it wouldn't have done much anyway). The other guy must have had a funny look on his face because, after a pause, Scott said that we were almost home.

I rode it, but was getting more wobbly by the second. It was hard to keep it going too fast OR too slow. It's hard to describe. When I had to slow down, it was hard to get going again. We crept up State Rd, seemingly forever. The Harley guy got in behind me as sort of an escort. He stayed with us. Traffic zoomed around us, some idiots even beeped at us. At our street, we put our signals on way ahead of time as cars sped around us. Scott slowed at the corner to slow me down, as if I could go too fast. At this point, I was somehow in second gear, because I downshifted with no effect at all. I made a wide turn around the corner as I knew I had no rubber to lean on. Plus the bike was really hard to handle. I rolled slowly around the corner. It should go without saying that trying to zip around the corner would have wrecked me and I don't think I could have zipped around that corner anyway.

On turning, Scott stayed in the middle of the road to discourage and oncoming traffic from getting too close. Luckily there was none. He turned his signal off and I kept mine on as I crept down our street. I got the bike to the front of the house, but on the other side of the street. I kind of tucked in where the driveway before is and stopped there. Scott pulled into the driveway and looked back at me. I thought he was waiting for me. I shook my head no. I didn't want to attempt the driveway because it was so hard just turning the corner a moment ago. I didn't want to do the monster, especially with that giant rock right there. Scott parked his bike and came out into the street where I was. I shut off my engine and just had my ignition and lights on. I couldn't get it into neutral. Scott managed though and we pushed my bike up the apron. I went to get Matt, but Scott got it started and barely duck walked it up the rest of the driveway and into the garage. My back tire was flat as a pancake, not at all the way Scott front flat tired looked. His tire, though devoid of air, didn't look much different. This was like night and day. With no air in the tire, the bike doesn't want to move, and it feels like a thousand pounds. Just think of how a car doesn't want to roll on a flat tire and then imagine a motorcycle, which is heavy enough, and heavy to hold up, and having something holding it back. Luckily, although totally flat, the tire still seems to be on the rim.

Scott praised me for getting it as far as I did, while I apologized for not doing the driveway. I had to make a judgement call and I didn't think it was a good idea.

I guess I'm not riding tomorrow. I'm still shook up writing this.

142 miles today

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