The Big Uneasy

Well, the fun came to a screeching halt when I headed out toward Lake Pontchartrain where the flooding was worst. Literally. Well, not actually screeching I suppose. See, I had this intermittent electrical problem a month or so ago where the bike didn't start a few times when it got hot. Cool it off and it was fine, so you couldn't really troubleshoot it. We did find a questionable coil wire, and I put probably 500 miles on it since then without a hint of a problem.

That all changed when I rolled back up onto I-10 and hit 70 mph. Just like that, done. Like you turned the key off. I made it over two lanes before I became a sitting duck, and parked it on the shoulder. Sunday afternoon at 6:00; this oughta be good.

I called HOG roadside assistance, and they asked me a thousand questions. THEY WANTED TO KNOW WHAT COLOR THE BIKE WAS! I shit you not. So they tell me they're going to see what they can do and they'll call me back w/ the particulars. Well, the towing company was an hour away (bikes, remember) and the H-D dealer was closed, so they had nowhere to take it. THEY ask ME what I want to do. I want to get the hell off I-10, that's what I want to do. "Would you like it towed to your home?"

"Sure!" I say. "That'd be great!"

"OK, is it nearby?"

"No, it's about 1200 miles. Don't you remember that being one of your 1,000 questions a half hour ago?"

Silence.

So now it had been long enough to cool down some, and just for giggles I hit the starter button while I ask her if I can have it brought to the hotel. Don't you know it, she lights right off and I hang up the call.

I got about 3/4 of a mile, off the exit, but that was it. So there I sit, thumb up ass in a neighborhood where I do not wish to spend any more time than I have to. But I also know if I wait another half hour and try to start it again, I'll probably end up stuck on I-10 again, this time in the dark.

So after some quick analysis of the situation, I call the hotel, and have them call me a cab. My baby is pushed behind an abandoned Auto Zone, under an overpass with a dozen filthy, flooded-out cars. Chained to a drain pipe. I don't have a good feeling about this.

I kissed her goodbye and hopped in the cab.