Jetty
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- Jul 24, 2016
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I rode down to the MotoGP in Misano, mostly alone and off-piste at the beginning of September. On my casual way back, sticking to an alpine route and country D roads of France, I paused in Auxerre for a reasonable lunch...then set off on my way past Sens and Saint Clement on the D606 when I felt my MT-09 Street Rally feel like jelly at the back, as if trailing through and over the channels worn in the road by heavy lorries. I moved across the road, but the feeling remained. A rear puncture! Pulling over in 50 yards or so at my earliest opportunity, I discovered an inch long slash across the middle of the tyre.
I do have a form of breakdown cover, but managing and administering it would be not a welcome task. Too many people to go through, I thought, to get a healthy, quick and efficient result. So, I waved down the next biker who happened along just 5 minutes later. In passable French I explained my problem. No problem he said. There was a dealer in his town behind him. He knew them and had their number in his phone. He called, and when he hung up he told me awkwardly that, yes, they could come out, BUT it wouldn't be for 15-20 minutes. Really? I'd have to wait that long?
I thanked him and let him on his way. 10 minutes later two more bikers pulled up independently of one another, offering help. Wondering if I should also recruit their help in case the former arrangement failed, I chose to have faith in the first, and sent them on their way with hearty thanks. 5 minutes after that an independent bike mechanic, in his van and an empty bike trailer behind, pulled over on the other side of the road and called across. I thought he may have been sent by the dealer. He drove around to me, where we realised I wasn't his customer, 'Norman', and had help, hopefully, on its way. He also knew the local dealer, his mate, he said. He called them to check that they were on their way. 5 minutes, he said. I too sent him on his way with thanks. 4 minutes later a sign-written van turns up. I show the guy the tyre, and he says, 'No problem', and swiftly puts my bike into the back of his van. 7 minutes later we are pulling into the local Yamaha dealer. They don't have my exact tyre, an S20, just the better S21. The thing is, they said, we have a job we need to finish before we can start on your tyre. Ooookkkk, I say. But your bike will be done within half an hour. No way, I say.
True enough, within 1 hour and 40 minutes of realising I had the puncture I was riding away from their dealership re-booted, on my way without having to re-organise any of my future hotel/crossing bookings.
How cool is that?
I do have a form of breakdown cover, but managing and administering it would be not a welcome task. Too many people to go through, I thought, to get a healthy, quick and efficient result. So, I waved down the next biker who happened along just 5 minutes later. In passable French I explained my problem. No problem he said. There was a dealer in his town behind him. He knew them and had their number in his phone. He called, and when he hung up he told me awkwardly that, yes, they could come out, BUT it wouldn't be for 15-20 minutes. Really? I'd have to wait that long?
I thanked him and let him on his way. 10 minutes later two more bikers pulled up independently of one another, offering help. Wondering if I should also recruit their help in case the former arrangement failed, I chose to have faith in the first, and sent them on their way with hearty thanks. 5 minutes after that an independent bike mechanic, in his van and an empty bike trailer behind, pulled over on the other side of the road and called across. I thought he may have been sent by the dealer. He drove around to me, where we realised I wasn't his customer, 'Norman', and had help, hopefully, on its way. He also knew the local dealer, his mate, he said. He called them to check that they were on their way. 5 minutes, he said. I too sent him on his way with thanks. 4 minutes later a sign-written van turns up. I show the guy the tyre, and he says, 'No problem', and swiftly puts my bike into the back of his van. 7 minutes later we are pulling into the local Yamaha dealer. They don't have my exact tyre, an S20, just the better S21. The thing is, they said, we have a job we need to finish before we can start on your tyre. Ooookkkk, I say. But your bike will be done within half an hour. No way, I say. True enough, within 1 hour and 40 minutes of realising I had the puncture I was riding away from their dealership re-booted, on my way without having to re-organise any of my future hotel/crossing bookings.
How cool is that?
