The Last 122

 I have a knack for complications.  Creating and experiencing them, primarily.  Solving them, sometimes.

I probably try too hard to get my money's worth from a purchase, and end up constantly balanced on the edge of complication.  Just my normal, but I'm trying to get better.

Anyway, last day of my 64-day all-over-the-country motorcycle ride.  Per my usual, I will find the occasional shady spot to stretch the legs and rehydrate.  130 miles from home, and happened to glance at the front tire. 

It looked just fine two hours earlier.

I played through some of the options, none of which looked good.  I was in a spot with no options anyway, so I got back on the bike and rode carefully another 13 miles to the next town, all while trying to pretend the tire didn't really look like that.  And I might be able to get all the way home if I was very careful.  Delusions are easy to manufacture.

I did manage a shred of sensibility, and got myself to a slightly better location, stopped and started working on the problem.  One phone call and five more miles solved it.  The next repair option was likely another 70 miles, but realistically, catastrophic failure was coming up first.

Clinton, South Carolina.

Pictured:  not Clinton, South Carolina

A one-mechanic shop (friendly and helpful though).  A one-rental-car-company town (not as helpful).  A six-mile walk to the nearest motel while carrying a bunch of gear.  Or the phone-a-friend option.  

That last one was the winner.  Mighty nice to have such options.  Spent a couple hours waiting, and a couple hours riding in air conditioning, to arrive home with my journey 99.27% complete.  

The new tire is in, faster than expected.  So tomorrow is another air conditioned ride with a friend, and the last 122 miles of the journey.  

Barring further complications.