Saturday.
Reds’ friend arrived in the morning with a trailer to haul his rig to the Ural dealer in New Richmond, WI. Reds’ dog, Annie, supervised the tying down of her ride.
Annie protected the camp from marauding hoards and chipmunks. Annie also thinks she is a lap dog.
There were six rigs at the campground and a few more that stayed in hotels.
Lees’ Mad Max inspired Zombie Response Vehicle.
Altheas’ and Jeffs’ Russian Made’n.
This one has seen some miles.
The main plan for today is a 30 mile ride to New Richmond, WI where we will meet up at St. Croix Harley for their rally. The Harley dealer also carries Urals.
Lining up. I figured out that organizing Ural riders is like herding cats. Took almost an hour to do this.
You may have noticed this in the line up. Belongs to one of local United Side Car Association members we invited along.
We arrived at St.Croix Harley as a group, which the owner called the Russian Invasion. Mine is the one in front. It was also the oldest rig in the group.
There were a few Harley jerks but most everyone was welcoming and curious. My Illannoy plate got some raised eyebrows. This Harley/Ural dealer is a hell of a lot more helpful than my local dealer when it comes to replacement parts. I stopped at my dealer on the way up for new compliance fittings for my carbs but I was told he couldn’t get parts for older than 2010 and he wouldn’t try. I asked the parts guy at the Harley dealer and he said, “Let’s see.” Neither of us thought there was any difference between the 07 and 10 engines so he pulled one from stock and we compared. A match right down to the manufacturers embossed part number.
I had family doings in Eau Claire, so I left the rally early. Gassed up in New Richmond and headed east on US12 into a heavy headwind. Got to my Dads’ cousins 99th Birthday party a bit late but I made it.
I decided to take a more direct route back to Ellsworth. I wasn’t familiar with the route but it looked good on the map. As I’m riding along, I’m thinking that the tailwind has really helped my gas mileage. Then I think, shit, I didn’t take the petcock off of reserve when I gassed up last. Turns out there are no gas stations on this route and my jerry cans are both empty. I found out that I can get 129.4 miles to a full tank on my Ural. Too bad that was 4 miles short of the closest gas station, which was in Ellsworth.
Forlornly sitting on top of a hill, empty.
All faith in fellow bikers has been lost as at least 100 passed me without stopping. I texted Lee that I was out of gas but I wasn’t sure he was back from the rally, so I grabbed a Jerry can and started hoofing. I hadn’t walked more than a quarter mile when an old Tahoe with a young couple and three little kids pulled over. Dad hopped in the back with my can and they drove me to the gas station and back to the bike. On the way to the gas station, I spotted Lee heading out to my bike. The young couple brought me back and waited to make sure the bike started. First kick, like 99% of the time. Lee calls me a show off. I offered twenty bucks to them for their trouble and to get ice cream for the kids but they wouldn’t take. Some faith in humanity restored.
Ending mileage for the day. 176 miles.
