05. Maxed motorbike techni-crashGPS: 47.505,15.449
Kindberg, 2018-08-25 14:23
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Subtitle: Always the first idea is correct.

It all started in Vienna
On the morning the 19th. Nicely mounted the luggage on the bike, pull the clutch and the choke, turning the key and start: nothing happens. I was experienced by then, since my subconscious had not trusted the battery for months. Gathered my road techniques also remembering the solution in Garbolc, by own power and push-jumping I could give the battery a spark.

My happiness weren't meant to last eternally, while I stopped to find a next petrol station in Mürzhofen, about 100 km away from my next accommodation - the engine suddenly stopped for no apparent reasons. It wasn't in gear, the stand wasn't lowered, still stopped. Again tried the Viennese Jumptrick, but it helped nothing.

Happiness was in visible disguise, a petrol station was just about two blocks far away so I had to push the bike only a little bit.

Where with a few more extra people tried to push the bike to jumpstart but again nothing worked. There was a low murmur from the engine but it seemed that the battery just wanted to sabotage the success. Later we found a portable jumper battery: 12V so it can work, but the battery didn't start to glow. Neither the first time. Or the second. Or the third. For the fourth by all miracles yes. Neither me or the other bikers could find an answer.

Then I let the engine to work for about 5 minutes - Danke-danke schön! - but then realized I need petrol too; that's why I came for. Stopping the engine, godspeed refilling in 10-15 seconds and - voila: the engine didn't start again. Asking the portable starter again. Neither worked for the first time. Or the second. Or the third. Or fourth. By all miracles for the fifth yes. Awesome.

I reached the daily accommodation with success - with all the inside happiness that the closest petrol station is in a pushable distance.

On the contrary, the engine started without any trouble next morning. Made me happy but not confident. Started to browse the internet and Honda pages with the local service shops. Figured out that all of them were into cars, but one successfully navigated me to Rimato: specialized in Honda bikes, located in Spielberg, close to the Red Bull Ring.

Successfully arrived, the great customer service and highly professional technician quickly took a look: the battery meter looked good, we also figured out that engine recharges correctly - so we could mainly understand the problem as unlucky mishap. Yet they also agreed with the idea what lurked me for months: the battery cannot be trusted.

Alright, finally agreed that since in the next few days I'll ride around in the vicinity anyway, so if the error reappears then we can replace the battery from stock.

During the next days
Caused no trouble at all, the battery worked as it should.

The yesterday
I was planning a daily run in the morning, but my appetite was taken away seeing the forecast predicting heavy rains and the 10 Celsius drop of the temperature. Finally departed toward Mariazell at 11am, then targeting Sankt Pölten. To be sure what cannot be sure I put the waterproof layer for the jacket into the backpack; not for the pants and I didn't bring anything for the gloves or the boots.

At least I washed down the dirt and insects of previous days
Meanwhile I rolled through Au bei Turnau, nodded toward the motorbikes in front of a repair shop. Lazily rode forward for about two minutes, when the motorbike changed into Noah's Ark sailing on the bathtub water. Got wet in 1 minute down to underwear. Obviously between two localities, obviously no big tree I could stop under.

It could happen in the next Seewiesen and I parked down in a bus stop with the scent of timber.

Ha-ha, shouldn't have done that
I mean I put the waterproof layer into the jacket, exhaled the air with satisfaction, attached the USB-cable to the mobile holder, and ready-to-leave turned the key to ON.

The LEDs played Christmas lights for a moment, the speedometer and tachometer spun in an abnormal asynchronous circle - and there was a muffled thud coming from the middle of the bike, under the seat. Awesome.

Then there was.Darkness.

As it's written in the big book, checked all the fuses: 30A alright. 20A alright. 4x10A alright.

This time I was absolutely confident this goes way beyond my current motorbike servicing skills or the travel toolbox. Happiness in disguise - LUCK ONE - I passed by that motorbike service station. Nonetheless it was still 5-6 km back, in rain, in biker boots I rather did not want to walk.

Nobody stopped for my hand but at the last building of Seewiesen, I luckily spotted a lonely car parked in front of the anyway closed youth hostel. Rang the bell, and explained the problem for the lady on the balcony: could someone take me to that service station? She unfortunately not, but she is expecting her husband in a second here for the lunch; he could. This time an another local person arrived and with his help I got to the service. What this gentleman and the technician discussed exactly I couldn't completely understand - but still recognized that he cannot help to get-to or bring-here the motorbike.

Then I realized LUCK TWO: the road between Seewiesen and Au bei Turnau is a relative slope. Thus we agreed he finishes his lunch in a half hour, then I'll bring the bike here. Jumped back into the car of the helpful gentleman and in two minutes I was again at the bus stop at the bike.

The truth of 6.6 km
Out of that, the first 4.9km isn't quite a slope but more flat or lightly ascending. Thus in heavy rain but at least visualizing the hope of help nicely pushed the bike forward on the first 4km - then happily noticed the Grüner See from which point with one push I just rolled into Au bei Turnau with godspeed 20 km/h.

Since help was already in front of my spiritual eyes, I didn't murmur any comment under my moustache after the 30+ gentlewoman drivers without stopping for a second.

Many Austrian drivers can neither stick to their own lane uphill or downhill, and easily go over into your lane.

Finally at the service station
Again checked the fuses, they are still fine. The battery on a charger produced mourning silence and the smell of the dead. An another battery helped to start the engine, but it had a very ugly, coughing, unreliable sound and the lights and LEDs just flashed like crazy. So the problem was located: that noise from under the seat meant the death of the regulator

Where do you find a regulator on a Friday afternoon in The Alps?
The correct answer: nowhere. Even if we talked about the great local milk or cheese, according to the current technologies neither are fit for the purpose.

How prepared and helpful was the technician, there was hardly any chance that he would just have an extra for this bike. Or the neighbour. Or the closest city. Or the next bigger city. After I mentioned the few days before encounter with Rimato, we agreed that if anyone would happen to have it, it's most likely them: one of the biggest motorbiker Honda dealership in Austria. Called them, they'll check the stock. According to the technician, they'll bring it here of which I had doubts but at least we located the root of the problem.

Until then, there's a restaurant just next door and while enjoying a fresh coffee I waited the callback from Rimato. After half hour called them, just I wasn't sure they got my phone number correctly: absolute happiness they DO HAVE this part. Unhappiness, they understandably cannot bring it here or could help to take the motorbike there. Then came the adventure to get a car/bike rescue service or a taxi. As one of the last biggest questions was how get the regulator HERE or how get the motorbike TO the 75km far away Spielberg.

Unexpected help
There was a gentleman in his fifties, a regular guest of the restaurant who overheard the conversation, and hearing Honda Hornet he raised his head and he stepped into the case: he is also a biker, also Honda, has two Hornets: one from '98 and '07. We discussed the problem, then he called Rimato We'll go for it now. and after 1-1 hour drive with his car between Au bei Turnau and Spielberg, we picked up the new regulator - and a prepared new battery too.

Changing the battery took no time, the regulator was more troublesome as the new had the other hole for the screw a few millimeters away than the original: widened it with the service tools in a moment and was fixed to its place correctly.

Big gulp of air, opening the choke on the now cold engine and YEAH: turning the key gave life to the lights and the engine started to grunt and kept its usual idling speed.

We sat down again in the restaurant because the rain started to pour heavily again, the gentleman for the quickly improvised 2 hours drive and 150 km petrol use accepted only a coffee in return. Also helped to take away the old battery, because we easily agreed that on the contrary to its semi-dead appearance, it wouldn't be a wise idea to carry it on my back in a 0 waterproof backpack in the rain.

Way back
The rain didn't stop but after 7pm, close to darkness, I didn't see any reason to wait more: I relatively dried during the 2 hours car drive and heating, the jacket and helmet was left to dry in the restaurant. So I mounted again all the gears - the waterproof jacket layer worked pretty well, my upper body remained well dry. The windshield...visor wiper attached on the pointing finger also worked, and through the misty clouds embracing the early evening hills and mountains, I successfully swam back to the accommodation.

Wisdom

Altogether my guardian angel threw me down an extra potion of luck. Starting with I was just passing by that service station before the mishap, that I could get/roll back there, that Rimato had a new regulator on stock (and a battery), that only a part sized of a hand was blown, that I did only a daily roundtrip - and very mainly that I met with this helpful people.

I don't believe that I would stuck there, but without them it's absolutely sure I wouldn't get away this easy financially, or in this amount of time and with energy.

And motorbiking didn't become a single inch more troublesome or less wanted.

Today laying around resting day, probably walking - what rain permits.

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