I had such a great time the evening before, with the warm welcome we received in Fort Scott that I didn't have a chance to swap out my worn out rear tire for the spare I had brought, and the old one didn't have enough tread left to make it to St. Louis. I was also up late to prepare my route sheets for the last four days of the trip, since the Fort Scott in had both an Internet connection and a printer that I could use. So, I got to wrenching first thing in the morning, and swapped out my rear tire so that I could safely be on my way. However, this meant a very late start for me, two hours behind schedule after showering, packing and catching breakfast. Oh well, at least I could ride at my own pace and enjoy the day.
After gassing up, I took a quick tour of Fort Scott and took pictures of some of the beautiful old buildings in town. Within minutes, I was over the state line in Missouri, riding through rolling hills past lovely old farmhouses. The aftermath of Hurricane Ike was very visible though, in the swollen creeks and rivers, and in the flotsam that had been deposited at the high water mark, during the worst of the rain that pounded the state. This was a scene that would repeated over and over again, all the way to Ohio. Despite the signs of recent destruction, the hills and curves only got better the farther east I rode, and the small towns I passed through were adorably picturesque. Our route took us through historic Jefferson City, and I made a quick pit stop in Bland, MO, where I astounded a few of the local residents by telling them of my cross-country journey by Vespa. I might have even convinced one guy to buy a GTS too! ;)
Having started late, I rolled into the hotel after everyone else but Kieran, whom I had passed earlier in the day. I got there just in the nick of time too, the last group of riders were just about to leave for Vespa St. Louis, where they were throwing a welcome celebration for us, including closing the shop to let us have free run of it to make any necessary repairs. I tagged along and after dodging a nasty car wreck on the freeway and some thick traffic in town, we arrived safe and sound at the Vespa shop.
Many repairs were already underway by the time I pulled in, bringing back memories of Cleveland during the 2006 Cannonball, including a motor transplant from Joel's wrecked GTS into Bobo's GTV, which had a stripped exhaust stud. Not only did Joel hook up Bobo with a fresh GTS motor which had been very finely tuned, he also bought a brand new midnight blue GTS to replace his wrecked bike! Vespa St. Louis hooked him up with a great deal that he couldn't refuse, and he had a support truck to transport it, so why not? Peet tended to his exhaust, and several others installed new rear tires, myself included. I managed to change my own rear tire by hand, which actually was easier than I had expected. Once a lift was free, I put my bike up and started working on replacing the oil pan gasket, which had developed a nasty leak. After pulling the pan, I found that the old gasket was pretty badly mangled, making me wonder if it left the factory like that, or if someone had been in there and did a poor job of replacing it. Luckily, Vespa St. Louis had a spare, so I was able to get it back together with the right parts, rather than trying to either cut a new gasket by hand or trying to force one on that wouldn't fit. However, the Piaggio gasket is a rather bad design, made of flimsy paper with a thin silicone bead around it, which likes to squeeze out around the outside of the oil pan when the bolts are torqued down! However, I managed to get it to seat reasonably well and seal well enough with some Yamabond, although was rather apprehensive about whether it would hold... I was definitely keeping my fingers crossed!
Although it took a while, I was finally done and left the shop with Roy and Rocket as the only Cannonballers still wrenching, who were working with a couple local scooterists and the mechanics from the shop to get Roy's clutch to attach to the crankshaft. Once I got back to the hotel, I gave a call to Ivy, my friend Heidi's sister, who lives just down the road from our hotel. She came out to meet me for a beer and wings, thankfully she wasn't put off by my greasy, grubby, smelly condition! The wings at Helen Fitzgerald's were as good as she described, made with a mustard-based sauce, rather than the typical pepper-based hot sauce that is usually associates with hot wings. Yum! We had a great time chatting for a while, longer than we had planned, but it was nice to see a familiar face aside from the Cannonballers. After she headed home, I went straight to bed, in the hopes of making an early start the next morning.
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