Once I arrived back from Peru, I had a couple of weeks to myself before my kids went back to school as they are with their mother for the month of August. I hadn’t done a long road trip in quite a few years as I had worked my business and was growing a couple of young, active and healthy boys. As any parent knows having young children takes up a significant amount of time. Trying to stay in some sort of descent physical conditioning, running a business and growing a couple of busy boys takes up all of a parents waking time.
Divorce sucks big time. It’s emotionally and financially draining, it just overall hurts way too much. I don’t recommend it to anyone but when it’s broken and cannot be fixed, it’s often the only window open for future happiness. Getting through that window is a tough act that most of us in this day and age will experience. This is a sad but true fact.
Like with any action, good or bad there are often what they call reactive bi-products. Ancillary changes as a result of a critical decision. The challenging bi-product for me in these days was being a single parent half of the time. The positive bi-product was being a single adult for half the time. The month of August was mine to do with as I pleased, so after Peru I decided to take a ride from Toronto, Canada to the end of the Florida Keys, the most southern point of the continental U.S. Time for a little Road Therapy.
Packing the very basics such as a few maps, a few tools, t-shirts, socks, underwear, a pair of jeans, shaving kit, helmet, sunglasses and leathers I was on my way late in the afternoon. I have two moderate sized saddlebags which I find more than enough for my simple needs. So, solo I went through Buffalo and then heading east on I 90 towards Albany then heading south on I 87.
About 150 miles east of Buffalo it was time to fuel up the 1990 Fatboy. I reset the trip meter and got back onto the Interstate. I looked down after being on the road for 10 minutes and noticed the trip meter only read 0.9 miles, it wasn’t moving towards the 1.0 mile mark. Clicking, clicking, clicking but not turning over actuating the measurement for the next mile. No problem I thought, I’ll just watch the odometer and gauge my mileage from there. It wasn’t working either. So obviously the trip meter drives the odometer, that’s news to me as this was the first time I’d had a speedometer issue. Thankfully the speedometer still worked.
So one might ask “what’s the big deal having no trip meter or odometer?” Well, on an old Harley Davidson like mine, there’s no fuel gauge. The way you track your fuel is measuring distance through either your trip meter or odometer. The trip meter is easiest as you reset it to zero miles after refueling. The odometer takes a little more thought as you always have to remember the mileage upon fueling up. It can get confusing if you’re putting on real miles and fueling 4-5 times a day. Thankfully, there’s a reserve on the old Fatboy getting you up to another 45 miles. Hopefully finding fuel within that range.
My goal for the day was to make it into the Catskills and get an early start the next morning. I was hoping to be able to get a speedo repaired or replaced the next day. Here’s to hoping for a little luck.