July 8, 2008: 227 miles, from Will ‘o Bend, British Columbia, Canada to Missoula, Montana, USA
This morning, we head South-South-East across the border from British Columbia, Canada into Montana, USA.
I woke up, grabbed my towel, toiletries and fresh clothes and walked across the campsite to the neat little shower-block for a nice, long, hot shower. (Despite having showered the night before, I never feel comfortable without my morning shower…as I’m sure, anyone standing downwind of me would confirm towards the end of a long day!)
Getting back to the campsite, we quickly broke down camp and packed the bikes. We had not yet decided where and when we would need to change the tires, and my rear tire was starting to really show significant wear, from the long, hard asphalt riding. Offroad “knobbie” tires can wear out within 1500 miles or so of asphalt road, due to their small footprint of tread on the road. I thought that Missoula would be a good bet for the tire change, as we knew there was a Kawasaki dealer in town, so we agreed to head that way.
First, we had to cross the border into the USA, at Roosville. But before arriving at the border post, we went through a tiny settlement called Grasmere, which I found interesting because there is a little settlement back in South Africa with the same name.
We approached the border post at Roosville with me in front, as usual, followed by Jaryd and then Mike. It was hot, dry and windy, so we were quite happy to remove the helmets for the obligatory picture – face validation by the border guards. I foraged around in my tank bag and found Jaryd and my passports, in the waterproof zip-lock bag, and passed Jaryd’s passport to him behind me (we’d quickly learned that the border guards insist on each person approaching the border post separately and individually, with his/her own documentation).
It was bound to happen sooner or later, that we’d stumble upon an unpleasant and clearly frustrated border guard….and Roosville offered up her best for us. What a total jerk! While grilling me for a few minutes, on where we were from, where we were heading, etc (all very understandable and expected), he started on a little tirade about why the USA should accept all us foreigners into the country. When he asked me what I did that justified me living and working in the USA since 1999, and why there could be no poor souls in the USA able to do my job, I decided that this was not time for any jokes or banter as I usually engage in, with border officials, and simply replied that I’d received the job offer from the USA while living in South Africa, and that I was appreciative of the opportunity to help in whatever little way I could, and that I loved this great country.
Anyway, after a sneer and a grunt, he motioned me to pull forward and called Jaryd up to the post. I pulled forward to the fence at the front of the car park, and waited for Jaryd and Mike. The guard had clearly had his little hissy and so the other two went through the post quickly and without hassle. Mike asked me if there had been any problem, and I simply said that he was not the friendliest guy around, but that I was hungry and we should see about a late breakfast/early brunch!
We found a gas station with a Subway attached, and had a nice, fresh sub, with coffee. At the gas station, some group of young folks were getting ready to leave….they were part of some expedition party or something, with two 4×4 vehicles kitted out with all the nice gear, etc.
As we were getting ready to leave ourselves, a small group of bikers arrived to fill-up, and they were riding some cool bikes, so Mike and I got chatting with them. Anyway, they left immediately after the fill-up, so we hopped on the bikes and continued south down US-93.
We were quite keen to find another Walmart somewhere, to do a much-needed oil change, and Kalispell looked like a good bet.
We did not stop to take pics anywhere along the road today, as it was so incredibly HOT, dusty and windy…we just wanted to make the mileage and make up time on our way home, due to the need for me to be back at home by the 12th……so no pics, sorry!
We flew past a number of small towns/villages, including Eureka, Tobacco, Fortine, Stryker, Radnor, Olney, Lupfer before hitting a hard right in Whitefish, to continue on the US-93 to Kalispell.
Upon arrival at Kalispell, while stopped at a traffic light in the surprisingly busy traffic, I asked for directions to a Walmart, and off we went. After finding the Walmart, we purchased some Castrol heavy-duty diesel 15W-40 oil (the same type or class of oil that these motors are known to prefer over the regular car oils), and headed around the corner to the Walmart auto service area, to borrow an oil pan. Again, the Walmart service technicians were very obliging, and we were soon changing our oil in the car park next to the service area. After finishing this lube change, we handed the old dirty oil back to the Walmart technician with an appreciative word of thanks, and off we went to fill up the gas tanks and head on our way to Missoula. Soon after leaving Kalispell, we headed past the picturesque Flathead Lake, and then past Ronan, Allentown and Post Creek.
It was about here, that we had our first sign of mechanical trouble on the trip.
Jaryd pulled up next to me, and indicated he needed to stop, so we pulled off the road at a little clearing on the left, in the high heat and wind. Jaryd said his bike was starting to surge really badly, and he had had some trouble even passing a truck on one of the inclines. I swapped bikes with him to see what was going on, and after a few miles was starting to think that the “issue” was really insignificant or perhaps just Jaryd’s imagination, when suddenly the bike slowed down in a bucking, surging, action that was quite disconcerting.
It felt like someone was hitting the engine “kill switch” for a second or two, before recovering – and cycling like this every few seconds! I stopped and check the obvious wiring connections around the kill switch and plug wires and everywhere else where I had immediate access to the wiring, with no obvious suspects. I then tried switching the fuel tap from the “main” to “reserve” position, thinking that there may be a small blockage or something in the fuel tap feed for the main tank….but no luck. The bike continued to surge very badly.
I then decided we needed to know if it was engine related or perhaps even brakes related – because the deceleration was so sharp and severe that it felt like someone was slamming on the rear brake and then releasing it. I thought perhaps with the high heat conditions, the brakes were binding, but this would not have explained why they would then release again. Anyway, after accelerating up to speed and pulling in the clutch to coast the bike, it was obvious that the surging was not brakes related, because the problem disappeared when I disconnected the engine via the clutch. So, it was very definitely engine related. But….WHAT?
Well, after stopping to check the air filter (perhaps blocked from thousands of miles of use and many dirt road miles), it was clear that the problem was not the air filter, but I removed it anyway, to try without any possibility of blockage. No luck.
There was nothing further we could do, other than for me to soldier on with the bucking bronco until we could find somewhere to work on the bike. We resolved to get to Missoula unless the bike simply stopped altogether.
A few miles later, Jaryd indicated a problem with MY bike (that he was riding since we swapped bikes)….so we pulled over. I then started to think we may be having a fuel problem, BUT the problem with this diagnosis is that we had always filled up all bikes at the SAME pump – including Mike’s bike, and he was having no issues at all!
On a whim, I opened Jaryd’s fuel tank cap, thinking maybe the gas tank pressure release/air evnt system was blocked and the fuel was not able to run out of the tank and into the carburetor. As I opened the gas tank, the gas within the tank made a weird, boiling sound, and spilled over the sides of the tank. The gas was BOILING in the tank, just like a madly boiling tea kettle of water! I looked down into the gas, and the fuel was highly agitated with this boiling action. I then realized that the very high heat conditions, together with the strong tail winds we were experiencing, was preventing cooling air from blowing through the radiator and over the engine under the the fuel tank, and the heat from the hot motor was causing the close-fitting fuel tank to overheat and boil the gas…..and possibly causing a fuel starvation situation for the motor, causing the surging.
Of course, none of this was clear….and we were still hung up on why the issue was occurring to my and Jaryd’s bikes only, when Mike’s identical bike was experiencing no issues.
EDIT: It only dawned on me much, much later, after our return home, that the a very possible difference between the conditions Jaryd and I were experiencing and Mike, was that both Jaryd and I had installed large tank pannier luggage bags on either side of the gas tank, just where the cooling air has to escape from the radiator scoops on each side of the motor. I have decided that these bags, which were blocking the flow of air around the motor and under the gas tank, were a contributing factor to our problem.
Anyway, back to the present…we soldiered on until we made it into Missoula, where we found a nice KOA camping ground, and booked in the for night, thinking that we’d take the bikes to the local Kawasaki dealer to take a look at, in the morning, and to change our tires from the badly worn offroad knobbie tires back to the street tires we were carrying on the back of our packs.
We paid for a night at the KOA, agreed to pitch tents, find a place for a bite to eat, and settle down to catch up with some much needed sleep from the tiring day.
But, only AFTER Jaryd did his pyrotechnic thing with a nice large campfire!
After enjoying the campfire for a while, we headed off to our respective tents for a goof night’s rest.
Tomorrow, we hope to have the dealer fix our bike issues, and continue our ride home.