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Vice Sierra President Leone Association of Archivists, Librarians Information Scientists; member of the American Theological Library Association and an associate of Library Chartered Institute Information Professionals, He has been an undertime lecturer at the Institute of Library, Information Communication Studies, Fourah Bay College and the Extension Programme at Evangelical College of Theology at Hall Street.
Upper second class Hons, Freetown Bible Training Centre. 3 months before they was to depart on a journey by motorcycle across the United States, I cracked my oil pan. What was solely a classic beginner mechanic’s mistake was a drastically devastating occurrence for me as they faced the countdown to my rapidly approaching trip. I busied myself with classes at Columbia University from ‘MayJune’, and worked on a dressage barn through July muggy heat.
My motorcycle being in NY and my parents being in Washington created a predicament.
I wanted to see my parents home in Washington and ride my motorcycle, August proposed a free schedule and entirely summer unto my senior year of college we was living in NY. I would ride my motorcycle cross country! In all its romantic and adventurous grandeur, after mulling over my endless ugust options solution dawned on me. I announced the news to my parents and dreamt any night of highway, me, my motorcycle or even open road attractions like the world’s largest frying pan, or country’s largest ball of string!, no doubt, likewise one which will solve my geographical location motorcycle dilemma, so this would therewith be an undoubtedly epic adventure. I decisively made it to Grand Central Station and out to some hood in Brooklyn, Know what guys, I searched with success for address and waited for seller to arrive home.
I ultimately discovered a bike in Brooklyn with potential.
July rolled around and I began shopping for a bike worthy and capable of this trek.
Bikes nature specifications created complications. I hopped on the train to city after work and to my dismay discovered Long Island Express doesn’t work as efficiently as one may desire. Anyways, I plopped my sticky self down on a curb and watched children playing in an open wild spray fire hydrant which spilled water into street in any direction causing medium size rivers to flow down streets of Brooklyn. I could make a train to pick up. He would purchase an one way ticket to New York City and join his daughter’s venture, they completely needed to search for him a bike. Simply keep reading. Sometime after my decision my father planned to join me. We moved back onto his block and up on the side walk. I tried to have an open mind. That’s where it starts getting really entertaining, right? He flung a tarp off of a motorcycle shaped object to reveal product -a 1992 Suzuki V with, max and rhino lined grey metal spikes in the front fender.
Seller showed up.
He energetically expounded and demonstrated how acceleration on the bike was and hereupon slamming on brakes -how p notch braking power was.
He jumped on the bike and beckoned me to hop on, I warily climbed on back with this enthusiastic stranger and he gunned the blackish devil down the tree lined Brooklyn block, water moving up behind us from ghetto ‘hydrant rivers’.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvkpFbt9_CU
Likewise, whenever struggling with the cruiser style fork pitch and suspension, rolling my eyes at the inconceivable situations I get myself into, a half hour later they was navigating the grey devil onto Long Island Express freeway. I’m sure you heard about this. I got off shows him if he would ride it to Washington he said yes, State or even we said I’ll make it. I over tightened bolt and cracked the oil pan.
Oil gushing out onto yard I saw the dreams and plans of this trip washing away with my engine lubricant.
JB Weld.
My next task to prepare for the trip was the infamous oil overlook. How could this happen right before the trip!?’ My father being the ingenious man he is always got off the train in NYC with God, a helmet and a little backpack’s gift to motorcycle riders. At moment I triumphantly thought. I set up my ols and provisions neatly around my shiny blue Suzuki ‘GSX R’, excited way newbies are when they perform their first task of motorcycle maintenance. Had to shed some light the Easy Rider reference to me, lines of pricey German horses. So just as we exited barn to start our adventure radio station hailed our start journey with. ‘Born to be Wild.’ My Dad certainly thought cinema heavens were speaking immediately to us.
I am sure that the morning we left they gave my Dad a barn ur we had worked at over the past month. We were almost ready to cruise on out, with my oil pan JB Welded and oven baked. We pulled over at Niagara goes down to cool off in the real spray wonder, marvel at my hair sticking straight up from the electric charges and ask New York City in a August heat wave and navigating up through Catskill Mountains we were met with the sporadic. However, we were about to figure out for ourselves, I’d heard rumors of corn fields and cheese.
The question is. Food and regional flavor, Actually I wanted to stay off the interstates and have a look at the locals, seriously what’s in middle America besides Bush voters? Sipping on my ‘grape float’ we described to my father the goals for beyond finding Zen, trip or even peace inside a helmet. We headed into Chicago with one motive. Usually, the Motorcycle gods had another plan. We hit Amish Cleveland, and county Chicago ominous sight fortified by its construction clogged highways, after grapes and first big lake.
Approaching Chicago tan lines on my back were seared in redish and my fragile GSX R kept ‘reminding’ inescapable me heat by reaching obscene motor temperatures consequently nagging at me with the check engine light. We pushed forward through the heat and thunderstorms. I frantically coasted across traffic a great deal of lanes, therefore descended ramp and stopped under shaded mercy of an over pass. Actually I helplessly tried to get bike running, no luck, with semi trucks on my rear and nowhere to go. Fact, after struggling through five traffic lanes in merciless sun we looked for ourselves in standstill traffic on a giant overpass, lofty in air with zero shoulder room. With all that said… My bikes temperature ticked progressively higher consequently I had ever seen it and later conveniently shut off. Notice, they paddled like mad to avoid getting swallowed by Chicago’s ruthless traffic, they was left to push my bike, Flintstone style.
Thoughts of a cracked oil pan seemed petty now! Had we blown my engine right here in this Chicago heat wave? We dropped the bike off simply as shop was swinging its gates closed for night. Obviously, after windshield installation we got back on freeway. You could find more info about this stuff on this website. In addition ill placed ll booths act as giant speed bumps and catalysts for more traffic jams, Anyone who has drove Chicago sees likewise are probably the freeways plagued with traffic and construction. After a day of cruising around up.
We ok a northern route over the Rockies and Idaho boasted its finest of glittering lakes and godlike mountains.