Wilsons Sandbox

KRL250s do *not* float. In the interest of providing motorcycling information that everyone can use, I decided to throw the baby Kaw into a mud hole on Sunday to answer that age old question, "Do bikes float?" Rode the bike the required 70 miles to Wayne National Forest and had fun up until I encountered a relatively large mud hole created from repeated ATV digging. Rather than go through the thing I tried to skirt the edge of the hole. However, a sapling made me take a line closer to the rim of the hole than I really wanted to go. I start to tip to the right and attempted to put a foot down in the water. Hey, it's gotta be only about six inches deep, right? My foot found bottom three feet after breaking the brown surface. Of course, by this time I was swimming in the muck and the KLR was submerged. Getting the bike unsubmerged proved to be quite a challenge. Getting the bike started after the float test proved *more* of a challenge. Getting the bike home before dawn required a substantial withdraw of my biker karma account. So, how does one remove a bike from a three foot hole in the ground? You basically lean the bike against the edge of the hole and lift the lower frame pushing the bike out of the depression sliding it on its side. Not pretty but it works on a late Sunday evening when the other weekend trail riders and possible helpers have all but packed up and headed home. The bike is now out of said mud hole. Will she start? Kick starting proved to be an effort in exhaustion. Thankfully there was a relatively level section of ground around to work up a run for bump starting. I tried running bump starts for three or four times before coming to the conclusion that running with all my wet and mud caked gear was more work than it needed to be. I stripped down to just my skivvies before continuing with the bump start attempts. Run, run, run, hop on, dump clutch, put it in neutral, push the bike back up the narrow trail for another attempt. I did this about fifteen times. Finally, she coughed and sputtered to life. Thank goodness! As I quickly donned my wet and slimy gear, I let the bike run in order to try and dry out what water managed to get where it shouldn't. She ran rough in spots as I worked my way off the trails and on to the Forest Service roads that access the trails. Once on SR-33 I thought I was good for home. The bike had other ideas... She'd run for about three minutes at freeway speeds before dying like someone hit the kill switch. Then, five to ten minutes later, she'd run some more for a few minutes, then die again. Needless to say, I was getting worried I wouldn't get the thing the necessary 70 miles home. I did pull off and fill up the gas tank with fresh fuel thinking that would help. But, she still died after a few minutes of running. During one of my many roadside stops waiting the required few minutes before she run again, a pickup truck pulled over to investigate my problems. There were two dirt bikes in the bed of the truck and the occupants admitted to watching me cross a trail head in Wayne. I explained the problem and although they didn't have any extra hauling capability, they volunteered their buddy's assistance. The buddy was ten to fifteen minutes behind them. So we just waited at the side of the road until he sped by. Sometimes you fall in a slop pit and come out smelling like a rose. The gentleman with the extra trailer space just so happened to live within three miles of my house! How's that for serious luck? We loaded up the protesting KLR and I graced the interior of his Toyota truck with my wet and muddy body. I did offer to ride in the truck's bed but it was stuffed full of gear. Once back in the neighborhood I convinced the reluctant driver to pit for gas on my dime as a small token of my appreciation. Dead bike delivery right to one's door by strangers. You gotta love fellow riders. Looks like all my stopping and helping other stranded riders over the years finally paid off. Russell D. Stephan Technology Management Consulting, Inc. 6479 Reflections Drive, Suite 150. Dublin, Ohio 43017 Voice: (614) 760-3065 Fax: (614) 760-3360