In which the narrator swoons
Jun. 14th, 2007 08:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elizillaAt Boomtown, the parking lot was full of V-Stroms. John Austin quickly came over to introduce himself. He said he had my parts and all the necessary tools, but they were about to go to dinner, and did I want to go with them? Sure!
After a leisurely dinner with John and a half dozen other V-Strom riders, John asked if I wanted to work on the bike tonight, or in the morning? I said I am more alert at night, and if I waited until morning I'd be delaying people until noon, so let's do it tonight. He went and got the tools and parts, and we got started.
With three or four helpers, we quickly got the sprockets loosened, and John brought out his chain tool. This was a much beefier chain tool than the Motion Pro tool, he said. With this stout tool, he said he could push the rivet out without having to dremel the head off. Sounds good to me.
He broke the tool. So much for finishing tonight.
We discussed what to do. He was going home to sleep, and he said he had more tools at home, something that would work. He would bring different tools in the morning. In the meantime, I was stranded at the rally hotel, a day before the start of my reservation, my bike in pieces in the parking lot. I said I was sure there would be a room available for me to check in early, but John said no, I should sleep in the bedroom of the hospitality suite he had rented for the gathering, since no one else was in there that evening, and it was free. So I did. The room was palatial, and I did indeed have it all to myself.
The next morning, a guy who was trailering brought out some more tools, before John even arrived, and we started work again. This time it didn't go so easily, despite having many hands to work on it. The sun was beating down on us, hot. I kept moving from one side of the bike to the other, as parts kept getting stuck, and the chain tool stuff the various people had brought was not a complete set of anything. There was much discussion of how to do what we needed to do with this odd assortment of tools, and I was in the middle of it all.
Every time I crouched down to work on the bike, then stood up, I'd get a head rush and have to hold onto the bike to keep my balance until it passed. I even commented on it a few times. I missed the little rolling stools from my garage at home, and I wished we'd taken the bike apart someplace shady.
Then I stood up and the whole world went black. I could hear crashing and parts scattering. I opened my eyes and realized that I was sprawled on the ground next to the bike, with pain in my hand and my shoulder. I had passed out and fallen right on top of the biggest collection of tools and parts. In the process I cut my hand open on something and it was bleeding pretty good.
One of the guys, Willie, coaxed me out of the middle of the action, and made me sit in the shade and drink water. I didn't feel ill. But every time I crouched and then stood, I'd feel that head rush again. People speculated that it was a combination of altitude and dehydration. I decided it would be best if, instead of riding that day, I stayed at the hotel and rested, drank lots of water, and let myself acclimate to the altitude.
In the meantime, the others finished the work on my bike. But we were unable to find a way to peen the rivets enough for me to feel confident in them. So in the afternoon, after much resting, Willie escorted me as I rode slowly and carefully to a local indie shop a few miles away, where the mechanics had the right tools to peen the rivets.
After that, I showed Willie the great road I'd found, 341, and we checked out Adventure Motostuff. It's a neat store, chock full of the kind of things I am interested in buying. I tell you I could have really blown my budget there. The biggest problem would be choosing just a few things and not bankrupting myself.
Back at Boomtown, I found my planned roomie, Gustavo, and got us checked in to the room. There was a banquet that night, with many many door prizes. I won some clear turn signals. (Unfortunately they only fit newer V-Strom models, 2004 and later, and mine is an 03. So I gave them to someone else.) Then there was tire kicking in the parking lot, with at least a hundred V-Stroms to look at. And I stayed up until 2am, to meet a guy coming in for a Bunburner Gold, and sign his paperwork.
After a leisurely dinner with John and a half dozen other V-Strom riders, John asked if I wanted to work on the bike tonight, or in the morning? I said I am more alert at night, and if I waited until morning I'd be delaying people until noon, so let's do it tonight. He went and got the tools and parts, and we got started.
With three or four helpers, we quickly got the sprockets loosened, and John brought out his chain tool. This was a much beefier chain tool than the Motion Pro tool, he said. With this stout tool, he said he could push the rivet out without having to dremel the head off. Sounds good to me.
He broke the tool. So much for finishing tonight.
We discussed what to do. He was going home to sleep, and he said he had more tools at home, something that would work. He would bring different tools in the morning. In the meantime, I was stranded at the rally hotel, a day before the start of my reservation, my bike in pieces in the parking lot. I said I was sure there would be a room available for me to check in early, but John said no, I should sleep in the bedroom of the hospitality suite he had rented for the gathering, since no one else was in there that evening, and it was free. So I did. The room was palatial, and I did indeed have it all to myself.
The next morning, a guy who was trailering brought out some more tools, before John even arrived, and we started work again. This time it didn't go so easily, despite having many hands to work on it. The sun was beating down on us, hot. I kept moving from one side of the bike to the other, as parts kept getting stuck, and the chain tool stuff the various people had brought was not a complete set of anything. There was much discussion of how to do what we needed to do with this odd assortment of tools, and I was in the middle of it all.
Every time I crouched down to work on the bike, then stood up, I'd get a head rush and have to hold onto the bike to keep my balance until it passed. I even commented on it a few times. I missed the little rolling stools from my garage at home, and I wished we'd taken the bike apart someplace shady.
Then I stood up and the whole world went black. I could hear crashing and parts scattering. I opened my eyes and realized that I was sprawled on the ground next to the bike, with pain in my hand and my shoulder. I had passed out and fallen right on top of the biggest collection of tools and parts. In the process I cut my hand open on something and it was bleeding pretty good.
One of the guys, Willie, coaxed me out of the middle of the action, and made me sit in the shade and drink water. I didn't feel ill. But every time I crouched and then stood, I'd feel that head rush again. People speculated that it was a combination of altitude and dehydration. I decided it would be best if, instead of riding that day, I stayed at the hotel and rested, drank lots of water, and let myself acclimate to the altitude.
In the meantime, the others finished the work on my bike. But we were unable to find a way to peen the rivets enough for me to feel confident in them. So in the afternoon, after much resting, Willie escorted me as I rode slowly and carefully to a local indie shop a few miles away, where the mechanics had the right tools to peen the rivets.
After that, I showed Willie the great road I'd found, 341, and we checked out Adventure Motostuff. It's a neat store, chock full of the kind of things I am interested in buying. I tell you I could have really blown my budget there. The biggest problem would be choosing just a few things and not bankrupting myself.
Back at Boomtown, I found my planned roomie, Gustavo, and got us checked in to the room. There was a banquet that night, with many many door prizes. I won some clear turn signals. (Unfortunately they only fit newer V-Strom models, 2004 and later, and mine is an 03. So I gave them to someone else.) Then there was tire kicking in the parking lot, with at least a hundred V-Stroms to look at. And I stayed up until 2am, to meet a guy coming in for a Bunburner Gold, and sign his paperwork.
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no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 01:37 am (UTC)Was it a dark anodised D.I.D. branded tool, in a blue box, that you needed a 27mm closed-end wrench and a 19-mm socket wrench to work? Did it break by popping out of its track with a tooth-rattling *CLANG!*?
Just, y'know, wondering...
no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 01:50 am (UTC)The tools John brought in the morning, were the remains of a Motion Pro set just like mine, with some pins missing (probably because he had already broken them). To file the heads off rivets, he brought a cordless drill and some dremel tips, but this did not work; the cordless drill doesn't spin as fast as a dremel, and he didn't bring a dremel since there was no electricity to run it. What worked for the rivet heads, was a bastard file brought by the dirtbike guy who had trailered. At least, it worked when he did the filing, he seemed quite practiced at it.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 04:12 am (UTC)How high up were you?
From what I have read about Everest climbs it takes some time to acclimatize and going low for awhile and coming back up works best.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 04:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 03:57 pm (UTC)