Hitcher
11th May 2008, 21:59
Earlier today I bought a puncture repair kit -- one of those punch-and-plug jobs.
I then did an unmanly thing and read the instructions before using it.
It works. Marvelous!
Mrs H and I got up earlier (I use that word advisedly) this morning and shot through to Palmerston North for a bite of lunch. Uncharacteristically (and largely because it was raining) I didn't check tyre pressures before heading off. The FJR didn't feel its usual responsive self, but I put that down to wet roads and cold tyres.
The run north (for anybody who is familiar with this torpid journey) was its usual mundane combination of straight roads, meanderthalling mother's day traffic combined with an invigorating southerly and shattered scours.
But the roads cleared north of Shannon and encouragement was applied on a soon-to-be-extinguished set of engaging twisties through to Linton. Something felt distinctly unright. A check in Palmerston North at an air-dispensing agency revealed the head of a nail pushed flush into the near centre of the rear Avon Storm.
Thank goodness for the southern North Island's only Sunday trading motorcycle shop -- ANZA. After a spot of banter with the team there, the nail was extracted (together with the formerly compressed contents of the Storm), the hole reamed (well, it was Sunday afterall) and the sticky camel turd bunged into it. 40psi was added, and away we headed in a homewards direction, after taking in food and coffee.
The tyre is still adequately inflated, but it will come off next week to sit on a rack at TSS whilst its replacement does a tour of duty in the USA and Canada. It can serve out the remaining 11,000km of its predicted service life on our return.
I then did an unmanly thing and read the instructions before using it.
It works. Marvelous!
Mrs H and I got up earlier (I use that word advisedly) this morning and shot through to Palmerston North for a bite of lunch. Uncharacteristically (and largely because it was raining) I didn't check tyre pressures before heading off. The FJR didn't feel its usual responsive self, but I put that down to wet roads and cold tyres.
The run north (for anybody who is familiar with this torpid journey) was its usual mundane combination of straight roads, meanderthalling mother's day traffic combined with an invigorating southerly and shattered scours.
But the roads cleared north of Shannon and encouragement was applied on a soon-to-be-extinguished set of engaging twisties through to Linton. Something felt distinctly unright. A check in Palmerston North at an air-dispensing agency revealed the head of a nail pushed flush into the near centre of the rear Avon Storm.
Thank goodness for the southern North Island's only Sunday trading motorcycle shop -- ANZA. After a spot of banter with the team there, the nail was extracted (together with the formerly compressed contents of the Storm), the hole reamed (well, it was Sunday afterall) and the sticky camel turd bunged into it. 40psi was added, and away we headed in a homewards direction, after taking in food and coffee.
The tyre is still adequately inflated, but it will come off next week to sit on a rack at TSS whilst its replacement does a tour of duty in the USA and Canada. It can serve out the remaining 11,000km of its predicted service life on our return.