New Year’s Day Ride by Brian Davis and Bill Huth
Breakfast by Brian Davis
Saturday morning, New Year’s Day, didn’t look promising, weather-wise. I kept checking
Weather.com, and the forecast sounded iffy each time - OK ‘till about 2:00, then
rain. But every time I stuck my head out the door, I could feel drizzle and it was
COLD. In the end I decided no one would decide to ride today, so I headed off to
Hobees in the Pod. I had just gotten out of my car in the Hobees lot and was heading
inside to see who else was there when I heard the unmistakable sound of an Indian
Chief. I turned around and Clay Hudson was just pulling into the lot, giving me
the thumbs-up (see photos). Within minutes, Jeff Beam appeared on his ‘39 Four,
with Curt Hansen following in his truck. I was beginning to feel like a wuss. We
all headed inside for breakfast, and pretty soon Rick Najera and Bill Huth arrived,
both having ridden their vintage machines. After breakfast we all adjourned to the
parking lot to see these brave souls off. I wasn’t sure whether to be jealous or
feel sorry for them. Read Bill Huth’s ride report below and make up your own mind.
The Ride by Bill Huth
New Years Day 2011 was forecast to be rainy, and mother nature decided to deliver
on the weather man's promise. I was feeling lucky though. There was some heavy
stuff overnight, but seemed like just light drizzles around the time to depart from
my house. I rode to Hobees in Los Gatos, about 30 miles from my house. It was cool,
with some very light drizzle, but nothing to speak of. I've lived in California
my entire life, and I've never invested in real foul weather riding gear. I wore
my industrial boots, thermal underwear, jeans, and a raincoat over my sweatshirt.
So what if I got wet? 9 guys were assembled at Hobees, and four of us, Rick, Clay,
Jeff Beam, and me, were planning on doing the ride to San Juan Bautista. Curt had
his big diesel pickup and bike trailer attached, driving chase. We departed Hobees
at about 10:30, after everyone finished breakfast. It was still drizzling, so we
opted to go the "old" route. This was a good idea. The roads were slippery, and
the twisty, mountainous route we took in October, while beautiful, would have been
a lot more to handle in the rain. So we went Blossom Hill/Camden/Almaden/McKean-Uvas/152
to Gilroy. We didn't have a lot of bikes, but I got to thinking we had a good mix
of year and engine types. The 1930's, and IOE (inlet over exhaust) valve configuration
were represented by Jeff's Indian Four. The 1940's and flathead design were apparent
in my 1948 Chief. The 1950's were represented by Clay's 1953 Chief (ex-police bike
too). And the 1970's were represented by Rick's original paint, "Lee Roy" OHV Electra
Glide. We started into some steady rain about halfway down McKean Road. It looked
like Rick and I were the only ones running our lights. This always seems like a
weakness of these old bikes, the ability to run lights for an extended period of
time. We cruised at about 50 mph maximum for the most part. The way I've geared
my Chief, it doesn't like to go into 3rd gear till about 55, so I felt like I was
lugging the bike a bit in 3rd, but when I dropped down to 2nd, I was close to the
shift point. Jeff and Rick were the only riders with real foul weather gear. They
had full jackets, pants, and boot covers. Clay was somewhat better equipped than
me, with leather chaps, but not by much. By Uvas road, the steady rain had soaked
me through, and my boots started filling up with water. Drat. Oh well. We dropped
down to about 45 mph at this point, so 2nd gear riding was called for on my bike.
We were 1 block from Monterey Road in Gilroy and my bike stalled at a light. I figured
operator error. I kicked it over and it started up again. I opened the reserve
gas valve, just in case I had run the main tank dry. At the next block, the corner
of 152 and Monterey Road, my bike stalled again. Now it wouldn't start. I wheeled
it into the parking lot of Jack In the Box, and kept kicking it over. We suspected
water in the distributor, and upon inspection, there was water in there. Clay tried
leaning over my bike to provide a rain break with his body while we dried out the
distributor. After about 5 minutes, we looked at our watches. It was 12:20. Why
don't we throw the bike on the trailer, look for some hot coffee, and try to get
this bike going under cover, instead of out here in the rain? So we loaded it up,
and hit a cafe about a quarter mile down on Monterey Road. We ended up in the cafe
for about an hour. Gilroy would be our turn around spot instead of San Juan. Rick
needed to gas up, so we would head back Monterey Road for some gas. Clay was so
generous. He offered to ride in the nice warm, dry, chase truck, and I could ride
his Chief. I declined, not wanting to cheat Clay out of any part of the ride (uh,
yeah, that was my reasoning). Since Curt was pulling a trailer, we were a block
off the main drag, and would meet the guys at the gas station and try to re-start
my bike with some protection from the rain. We pulled on to Monterey Road and parked,
thinking they would be a couple minutes getting their gear on and pulling out. After
about 5 minutes, we decided they must have gotten going fast, and already went by
us. We went down Monterey Road North toward San Jose. Man, there are NO gas stations
on Monterey Road. Curt's phone rings. The bikes had pulled off Monterey Road, onto
152. They found gas, and were ready to pull out and decided to go 101. We had passed
the 152 turn, so we kept going and caught the next freeway access. We weren't sure
if the bikes were going to be in front or behind us, so we pulled over on the 101
on ramp to see if the bikes would go by. We never saw them, so we figured they beat
us again. We took off, and decided we'd try to re-start the bike in San Jose. We
never saw the other guys, but Clay called the truck when he got home. They were
probably 10 minutes ahead of us on the road. We pulled over in San Jose, and got
my Chief to start. It was hard starting, but did start. It required constant blipping
of the throttle to keep it running though. It was now 2:35. Curt was really generous,
and offered me a ride home on the trailer. I know how these roadside repairs go,
and was worried that we'd easily eat up an hour going over everything. We'd tried
drying out the distributor in the rain, but hadn't gone back in. We were thinking
a pinhole in my brass float could be another reason for these symptoms. But both
Curt and I had dinner plans with family, so I didn't want to fool around with the
bike for too long. I took the conservative choice and left the bike on the trailer.
We pulled up to my house at 3:07, so we had made good time. I was a little bummed.
I've owned the bike for 16 years, and it has never NOT made it home under it's own
power. I've made it home with dead batteries, leaking heads, and even limped home
with with a seized/galled front piston. At home, I re-attacked the distributor.
I took it apart and cleaned and dried everything. I noticed this particular cap
has a small, 1/8" hole on the side. I think the rain made it in through this hole
and took out my ignition. I put it back together, and it started right up and ran
fine. I'll put a little silicone in there and fix the problem. So even though I
was trailered home, I was lucky. Chase truck in the rain, door to door service?
What more could I ask for while having trouble with an antique bike on a rainy New
Years Day?
