Yesterday was a highway day, spent mostly on I-40 across northern Texas and the entire state of Oklahoma. Throughout the day, each time I stopped, the back wheel seemed to be making worse sounds than before, and throwing off the balance of the bike when I went really slowly. I decided this was bad enough that I stopped at a hotel on the highway in Oklahoma, only a couple miles to the Arkansas border, to ckeck it out.
When I took off the side case, I saw that the rotor was crooked on the brakes, causing them to rub. I didn't think much about why at that point, so I drained the fluid out of the brakes and took the pads out and decided to do the rest of the trip with no rear brakes - no big deal, since I'll be on the highway the whole time. So I retire to my hotel room for the night - a big fancy place with all sort of unnecessary amenities, like a TV, hot water, clean blankets, air conditioning - all the stuff that makes it four times the price of a nice hotel in Mexico. Where are the 10 dollar hotels on I-40, with just a room with a bed and maybe a sink?
The next morning I pack up and put the bike in first. It goes about 10 feet and stops. Fortunately I'm still in the parking lot, so I take off the bag again and find that the rotor is actually digging into the metal on the brake system. When I take off the other bag I see that the tire is actually rubbing up against the casing to the drive shaft. This is very bad, and I immediately call my roadside assistance to get towed to the nearest bike shop. I needed a bike lift and someone who knows how this all works. On the phone with my North Carolina mechanic, Allen, I'm told that it's possible that the problem is with the bearings, a relatively easy fix.
A couple hours later, the tow truck guys come, winch the bike onto the bed, and we're off to the Yamaha dealer in Fort Smith, Arkansas. They knew I was coming because the roadside assistance looked up the number for me. It wasn't a long ride, which is good because it was a small cab with me and two large Arkansas tow truck operators (and I thought I had a hard time understanding Spanish!). Being a holiday weekend in the spring, I expected to have to wait, which I did. While I was waiting I was told by Larry, the service department guy, that a similar problem happened recently which turned out to need replacement of the whole drive shaft. They also didn't have any there that would fit my bike for a replacement, and I might be stuck there until at least Tuesday! Aah! Easter weekend in Arkansas! A guy in the shop at the time overheard all this, and on his way out offered me a place to stay in his house near the shop, if I needed to stay here.
Once they got a chance to put Big Mama up on the lift and take her rear end apart (oh la la!), they found that one of the bearings had broken apart. Although some other stuff was a bit damaged in there, they could put on a new bearing and I could get home safely to my parents' garage in North Carolina before having to replace anything else. However, they didn't have the right size bearing. After going to the nearby Suzuki dealer to find a bearing, and putting it on, Big Mama was ready to go by about 5pm, accompanied by a repair bill much lower than I expected. Thanks, Fort Smith Arkansas Yamaha Dealer Guys!
The problem now was that it was 5pm, I was more than 12 hours of riding from North Carolina, and there was a weather system coming in from the West. I hit the highway, and carefully (and still with no rear brakes) rode into the sunset.
It was getting cold after dark - too cold to camp out, and I really didn't want to spend the money on another hotel room. Since I was awake after just waiting around all day not doing much, I rode gas tank-to-gas tank into the cold night on I-40, listening to a couple radio stations I picked up that were actually pretty decent.
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