Return to Michigan Day 1: Wednesday June 30, 2021.
I started Therese's engine at exactly 06:00, at which time the temperature in Phoenix had decreased to an overnight low of 92°F.
But traffic on I-17 was light and swift, and by Cordes Junction the thermometer read only 75.
Bypassing most of Flagstaff on I-40 east I exited at Country Club, refueled, then stopped for breakfast at Mary’s Café, northbound on US-89.
Therese was running great.
Until she wasn’t.
The engine quit as I pulled up to the pump at the Chevron in Kayenta. When I tried to ride away, she wouldn’t idle. At all.
Yeah, another first world problem, but this time I was particularly peeved about the situation.
Keeping the engine above 2000 RPM prevented stalling. But given the K1300S’s notoriously poor low throttle control that meant trying my best to keep the revs “somewhere between” 2000 and 3000, which I was obliged to do for what seemed like eternity waiting for a break in traffic to and from the rodeo grounds. The stoplight crossing US-160 immediately forced me to repeat the exercise, and then I had to get through town. Fortunately, I was able to time-control my approaches to all the other stoplights and was able to keep moving.
Just that quickly I was in Monument Valley, with no reason or desire to stop.
It’s always a spectacular ride, of course, and I enjoyed it as best I was able. The weather was unseasonably cool and pleasant. But my mood was now contaminated with the knowledge I’d been mistaken thinking I’d solved a major problem, after years of frustration. And already I'd begun to completely refactor my concept of the ride ahead; rather than a freewheeling victory lap of Colorado with possible visits to folks I know along the way home, my route would need to be a thread woven through the absolute minimum of traffic, congestion, and stops of any kind.
But not long after those thoughts coalesced I did choose, without provocation, to bring Therese to a stop.
I wanted to enjoy a particular view, and to perform an experiment that might recover my at-will route plan.
During our drive from Flagstaff two days earlier, Gary and I had discussed the challenges of keeping modern motorcycles running well. He’d mentioned the computer reset procedure for his Triumph Daytona was to let the engine idle for 15 minutes. A stupid procedure, we both agreed, but now I was wondering if the Triumph had Bosch brains. If so, Therese might benefit from the same regimen.
There are certain tricks I know that sometimes successfully end-run the engine’s tendency to quit when pulling to a stop; I used them all. Either because of them, or because the problem has always been intermittent and this was just one of the lucky times, she settled to a smooth idle which continued for the next sixteen minutes. The fan came on and engine temperature rose from the middle to the high end of the normal range, but she issued no other complaints. The ambient temperature was 82°F, which I felt was downright cool for the cusp of July in this barren desert.
I started Therese's engine at exactly 06:00, at which time the temperature in Phoenix had decreased to an overnight low of 92°F.
But traffic on I-17 was light and swift, and by Cordes Junction the thermometer read only 75.
Bypassing most of Flagstaff on I-40 east I exited at Country Club, refueled, then stopped for breakfast at Mary’s Café, northbound on US-89.
Therese was running great.
Until she wasn’t.
The engine quit as I pulled up to the pump at the Chevron in Kayenta. When I tried to ride away, she wouldn’t idle. At all.
Yeah, another first world problem, but this time I was particularly peeved about the situation.
Keeping the engine above 2000 RPM prevented stalling. But given the K1300S’s notoriously poor low throttle control that meant trying my best to keep the revs “somewhere between” 2000 and 3000, which I was obliged to do for what seemed like eternity waiting for a break in traffic to and from the rodeo grounds. The stoplight crossing US-160 immediately forced me to repeat the exercise, and then I had to get through town. Fortunately, I was able to time-control my approaches to all the other stoplights and was able to keep moving.
Just that quickly I was in Monument Valley, with no reason or desire to stop.
It’s always a spectacular ride, of course, and I enjoyed it as best I was able. The weather was unseasonably cool and pleasant. But my mood was now contaminated with the knowledge I’d been mistaken thinking I’d solved a major problem, after years of frustration. And already I'd begun to completely refactor my concept of the ride ahead; rather than a freewheeling victory lap of Colorado with possible visits to folks I know along the way home, my route would need to be a thread woven through the absolute minimum of traffic, congestion, and stops of any kind.
But not long after those thoughts coalesced I did choose, without provocation, to bring Therese to a stop.
I wanted to enjoy a particular view, and to perform an experiment that might recover my at-will route plan.
During our drive from Flagstaff two days earlier, Gary and I had discussed the challenges of keeping modern motorcycles running well. He’d mentioned the computer reset procedure for his Triumph Daytona was to let the engine idle for 15 minutes. A stupid procedure, we both agreed, but now I was wondering if the Triumph had Bosch brains. If so, Therese might benefit from the same regimen.
There are certain tricks I know that sometimes successfully end-run the engine’s tendency to quit when pulling to a stop; I used them all. Either because of them, or because the problem has always been intermittent and this was just one of the lucky times, she settled to a smooth idle which continued for the next sixteen minutes. The fan came on and engine temperature rose from the middle to the high end of the normal range, but she issued no other complaints. The ambient temperature was 82°F, which I felt was downright cool for the cusp of July in this barren desert.
Departing the turn-out was more challenging than I’d expected. When pulling in I'd assumed I could drive straight out the other end as usual; but there was only a patch of ever more jagged slabs of stone jutting from the two-track, where I nearly dropped the bike, and then a flat area barely big enough to execute a 180° turn. Then it was back through the jagged rocks.
Within the hour, at a remote crossroad on the way to Cortez, Therese demonstrated that while she might occasionally idle placidly for 15 minutes, it didn't mean she'd reliably idle for even one second.
On the far side of Cortez, a gauntlet of stoplights Therese was disinclined to respect gracefully, I pulled into a rest area. After refreshment and quick progress report texts to family, I stretched out on the picnic bench…where I fell asleep.
I needed the nap. Last night, and two of the past three, I’d gotten very little sleep (and even less quality sleep), because I’d been packing and loading motorcycles into the wee hours in order to avoid the heat as much as possible. This day I’d ridden 400 miles and still had 150 to go before I’d land at Cathy’s house in South Fork.
Back on US-160 east, not my favorite Colorado road by a long shot. At least they’ve added more passing lanes, and transit of Durango in traffic ramping up to rush hour was miraculously nothing but green lights. Therese behaved herself in Pagosa Springs, and after that was only one stop before the end of the ride; she did give me trouble after gassing up in South Fork.
Within the hour, at a remote crossroad on the way to Cortez, Therese demonstrated that while she might occasionally idle placidly for 15 minutes, it didn't mean she'd reliably idle for even one second.
On the far side of Cortez, a gauntlet of stoplights Therese was disinclined to respect gracefully, I pulled into a rest area. After refreshment and quick progress report texts to family, I stretched out on the picnic bench…where I fell asleep.
I needed the nap. Last night, and two of the past three, I’d gotten very little sleep (and even less quality sleep), because I’d been packing and loading motorcycles into the wee hours in order to avoid the heat as much as possible. This day I’d ridden 400 miles and still had 150 to go before I’d land at Cathy’s house in South Fork.
Back on US-160 east, not my favorite Colorado road by a long shot. At least they’ve added more passing lanes, and transit of Durango in traffic ramping up to rush hour was miraculously nothing but green lights. Therese behaved herself in Pagosa Springs, and after that was only one stop before the end of the ride; she did give me trouble after gassing up in South Fork.
I arrived at Cathy’s expecting a crowd, but instead was alone; a family of five houseguests was somewhere else, and Cathy had not yet returned from her 4H activities in Creede. But she called two minutes after I parked. She was already in South Fork and would swing by to pick me up, and we went to Mountain Pizza & Taproom.
*
Back home Cathy’s guests had arrived. Guy and Veronica, and their young son and two daughters had spent the day tubing, which had been a chilly and bumpy experience in a local snow-fed river. But they were warmed by a crock pot of spaghetti sauce that had been slow cooking all day.
We all turned in fairly early...very early by my standards.
With the house inside full, I slept on camping mat and sleeping bag in the sun room. I was quite comfortable, though I was awoken in the night by lightning, thunder, and torrential rain.
*
Back home Cathy’s guests had arrived. Guy and Veronica, and their young son and two daughters had spent the day tubing, which had been a chilly and bumpy experience in a local snow-fed river. But they were warmed by a crock pot of spaghetti sauce that had been slow cooking all day.
We all turned in fairly early...very early by my standards.
With the house inside full, I slept on camping mat and sleeping bag in the sun room. I was quite comfortable, though I was awoken in the night by lightning, thunder, and torrential rain.
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