So picking up right where I left off: the following morning, I found the pool of four had coalesced into a single pool of oil over night. It was time to get this gasket changed. I probably should have left the bike at home and rode another one, but I was hoping that I could get a couple of things done on my to do list before I actually changed the gasket, which I wanted to do at my friend Jorge’s garage (he’s been a fountain of knowledge in my motorcycle education – good and bad, mostly good).
First off, I needed the gasket kit from Alex. Then I needed to go by my office in Oakland to finish something before gingerly cruising over to Jorge’s. The tire on the left side was getting considerably more and more oily, and I could feel the Triple slipping a bit without having to lean the bike too far. “Just keep it upright and easy on the turns, and I should be fine,” I told myself. “And shift earlier to keep the revs down so I didn’t get the oil temperature too high and exacerbate the problem.”
I go by Alex’s and get the gaskets. Now I’m on the freeway in fourth gear splitting lanes a lot more carefully than I normally do, coming up to the section where I had been pulled over by two CHP motorcycle cops a week earlier (I tend to slow down in those areas where I was once busted especially with the incident so fresh…). Ponch and John were no where in sight, traffic was thinning a bit, and wanting to get this task done as quickly as possible, I decided to step up the pace and get into 5th gear. Drop the throttle, pull the clutch, and click up. Wait, there wasn’t a click. Actually the shifter had dropped way down, and was completely loose. I couldn’t shift. Up or down. I was stuck in fourth on the freeway – the Bay Bridge, where there is no shoulder of the road to pull over safely.
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