Saturday Aug 5 – Monday morning Aug 7, 2017
(~10 miles)

Although the beach where I intended to collect my sand and water was just a mile down the street, I headed back into the city to collect my wife from the hotel on Lombard Street, so that she could accompany me for the closing tradition. Feeling exhilarated, I enjoyed the cruise back through Frisco, taking in the colors sites and smells of a city I’d always wanted to visit (and I’m not a city person).

The GPS brought me up over Pacific Heights en route to the hotel, for a good taste of the hills for which the city is famous.

I pulled in to the parking garage under the Coventry Motor Inn, and hugged my waiting wife.

Because daylight was fading, she was already geared up and ready to head out. At that moment, the front desk man walked by and pointed out that I had a puddle of oil under the bike! Say what!

We quickly dismounted and sure enough, there was a very large puddle of oil with drips tracing a path all the way back to where I entered the garage. It must have happened very shortly before this as I hadn’t noticed anything at the final gas station across town, and I wondered if I had somehow scraped the bottom going over the steep hill crests.

I apologized profusely for the oily mess, but the hotel clerk was extremely friendly and accommodating and helped us find a quiet corner of the garage where they had already laid out orange cones to mark off parking for my bike. Taking a quick look under the bike, I could see the drain bolt was still intact and most of the oil was to the rear, where the oil filter was. I helped wipe up the floor mess with rags and, us both being completely exhausted, stressed out, and hungry by this point, we decided to find some grub and deal with the oil issue tomorrow. The trip to the beach would have to wait, obviously.

Once in the room, I immediately broke out my laptop and searched for the nearest AutoZone and Honda dealers, assuming I would be needing to do at least an oil and filter change tomorrow. AutoZone was across town to the south, but had the oil I needed and said they would get me a K&N oil filter by early afternoon tomorrow from another store. We spent a little time researching the public transit system of San Francisco to ensure we’d be able to get there, and then cleaned up to go eat.

The hotel recommendation came from a complete stranger in the LD riding online community, and we ended up being very appreciative of his advice this weekend – being on Lombard Street and very close to restaurants and anything else we needed. We found a great pizza place two blocks down called Patxi’s that serve their gourmet pies with the sauce on top. It was worth the 40 minute wait for the pizza to cook… it was delicious!

While we ate, we decided not to let the bike problem put a damper our entire day tomorrow, so long as it was just an oil filter issue. the plan was to try to get on one of the Alcatraz ferry tours and perhaps see a few other sites before heading to AutoZone and dealing with the bike. I needed some mental time to recharge after my long ride, and I wanted to ensure Char had some off-bike fun after flying all the way out here!

 

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Sunday, August 6

In the morning, still feeling tired but more refreshed, I went down to the garage to crawl under the bike and identify the exact source of the oil leak. here is what I saw after wiping everything up:

The signature nut welded on the top of K&N filters is supposed to make removing the filter easy with a regular wrench, however an online search shows lots of anecdotal evidence of poor quality control and failure of the weld. This is exactly what happened –  a defective minor part almost sidelined the trip.

If it had happened in east bumfuck Wyoming (remember this thought for later), or while I was splitting Lanes on the Bay Bridge, things could have been a lot worse, for the bike, myself, or both. That is the last K&N filter I will buy. I reached out to some ST riding friends who gave me compatible car oil filter part numbers, which I knew AutoZone would have in stock.  My mind now much more at ease knowing an easy fix lie ahead, we set off on foot to do our touristy things.

The first stop was breakfast at Mel’s Drive-In (recommended by hotel) just down the street. We made it before the rush though we ended up waiting a little longer than I thought necessary. My tortilla scramble hit the spot and Char enjoyed her French toast.

We picked up some postcards on the way out, and walked the two miles or so to the Alcatraz Pier down on the waterfront, taking in the city streets at a comfortable pace.

At the pier among throngs of weekend tourists like us, we learned that advance planning was necessary to get to The Rock. We had to settle for the scale model and distant views of the former prison island for today.

 

We walked west through the Fisherman’s Wharf district, including a stroll through Pier 39 which is basically a shopping mall on the waterfront – we both hate malls but if you’re going to walk through one, I’ve seen much worse.

We picked up a couple stickers and postcards and watched the sea lions for a while. Good views of Alcatraz from here too.

 

We continued on towards Fisherman’s Wharf proper, taking in the Pier 43 ferry arch and street performers, and walked down another pier to look at the USS Pampanito, a WWII submarine.

I really wanted to ride a Streetcar because… well… who doesn’t when they go to San Francisco? Plus it would take us in the correct general direction of AutoZone. We looked up the routes online and discovered we could pay with the same cool mobile app that we had already downloaded for bus tickets for later. San Francisco really has their public transit down cold – Boston’s system is decrepit and dysfunctional by comparison.

We got in line at the Powell and Mason Streetcar turnaround (like a lazy susan for streetcars), bought our tickets with or phones, and within 15 minutes were hanging off a trolley, watching the city go by while climbing/descending impossibly steep hills.

We rode the street car to the end of the line in downtown and then wandered around for 15 minutes or so, trying to figure out where to get the bus we needed to reach AutoZone. Soon enough we were on the correct bus and heading through the less touristy sections of town to the South. We got what we needed, including scoring a free new oil pan that Char saw being discarded due to a small crack, and headed back to the bus stop for our ride back to the hotel. I completed the filter change there in the hotel garage, and added new oil using plenty of rags (provided by hotel) and shop towels.

I decided to go for a test ride around the block. While there was no longer evidence of an oil leak… I noticed the rear tire felt squishy and confirmed the pressure was down by over 10 psi! I headed to the gas station 1 block away, topped off the tire, and figured I would check it again later. For now, we mounted our STeed together at last and headed for Ocean Beach where Great Highway meets Lincoln Way, at the western end of Golden Gate Park.

Halting the bike on the uphill stop signs while 2-up required some forethought and careful application of the rear brake.

Char enjoyed her first ride through the city on two wheels, and we made it to the beach without incident. It was a longer walk over the sand then at Coney Island, but the temperature was much cooler and this beach was much less crowded. Some folks appeared to be training their horses to overcome their fear of the surf, which was interesting to watch.

I quickly dipped my feet and glass vial into the water and it was done, symbolically completing my ocean to ocean weekend journey.

Made it back to the bike to discover nothing has been stolen, and we continued on a circuit of the San Francisco coastline, up through the manicured streets of the Sea Cliff neighborhood and through the Presidio park, where from the bluffs we got a good view at last of the Golden Gate Bridge, no longer obscured by fog.

Back at the hotel we were tired, and satisfied to simply order take out from a Thai place across the street, which turned out to be good. I had to start preparing for the HW3 rally at this point … the rally packs had been distributed on Friday and I hadn’t even cracked a look at them yet.

I spent a few hours poring over the rally materials (whose puzzle aspects were FAR from easy to grasp!), then went down to check the tire pressure. It was a few pounds down but still warm. I figured I would check it again very early in the morning, before our departure north along the coast. Perhaps I should have been a bit more proactive and observant.

 

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Monday morning (Aug 7)

I awoke early yet again, and went down to the garage to check the tire pressure. once again it was over 10 psi low. Crap! I put the bike on the center stand and slowly rotated the rear wheel to examine the tread. Then I spotted it, just a small hole near the middle of the tread with a tiny glint of metal within.

Oh great, I had a nail or something going through! I did not have needle nose pliers in my tool kit at the time, so I tried using a few other pointy objects to dig around in the hole and see if I could pry the object out past the lip to be able to grab it. Finally I borrowed a pair of needle-nose from the hotel and with the right tool, I was able to get the tips inside the hole and snag the nail enough to pull it partially out.

At this point I went back to my laptop and phone to review my options, and the hotel agreed to allow us a late check-out if needed.

The local Honda place did not have a tire that would fit and would not mount a car tire. They recommended another shop that did turn out to have a tire, but would not promise immediate service despite the fact that I was on a trip and had a check out time of 11 a.m. I decided to try to plug the hole and go from there.
It took a lot of elbow grease to get the hole plugged but finally it was done after wasting two of the gummy worm plugs while trying to push them through the tough rubber of the car tire.

My honey, ever thoughtful, was kind enough to document my exhaustion after finally getting the plug inserted.

I inflated the tire with my mini compressor enough to get to the gas station, where I finished the job. Then we packed up all our gear and cleaned up while allowing the plug to set. I called ahead to the Honda dealership in Eureka CA, the closest to our destination for the night in Fortuna. They had a previous generation tire of a size slightly skinnier then the ST spec but it would work. They also said they would fit me in first thing in the morning, so I booked the appointment, feeling that I should really replace the tire as due diligence before the rally and the long journey home afterwards.

We checked the tire again after 20 minutes to confirm it was still holding air (yes) and then it was time to get the hell out of Dodge! It was around 11:00, 3-4 hours later than planned. We expressed our thanks to the hotel staff for all their assistance and understanding during our short, if dramatic, stay. I’d stay at the Coventry Motor Inn again in a heartbeat and recommend it to any rider passing through the “city by the bay”.