Well, I’ve had all sorts of suggestions, ranging from string to tape to glue to these sump plugs.
I’ve been in touch with One Ten Motorcycles, the guys who sold me the bike in Oz, and, along with a new sprocket gasket (and sprocket because the original’s about worn through) he’s also sending me a patch up kit of some sorts for the plug. What’s in it I’m not sure, but if there’s a man with the right plug for Dorothy’s bottom it’s Joe. We’ll see what he sends.
My dad also reckons I should make a bra for the plug. So that it can’t come out. I was thinking Aralditing a metal strip across the sump guard or just gaffer tapping the whole lot up. Either way I reckon it’s a good idea. As I’ve said before, what I’m trying to do is very simple; And that’s stop a metal bolt falling out of a metal hole. Simple really.
Either way I’ll take some pics and offer them up for scrutiny. But it’s all quite exciting really. I mean, this is it. Just a shoddy sump plug stands between us and England and if it holds and the glue sticks then we’re home free. If it doesn’t we really will be stranded ringing someone up for that new engine, which it’s good to hear will bolt straight in.
They’re could be an issue with the carnet if we have to do that but if I strap Dorothy’s old soul to the rack on the back we can explain her engine change like that. All I hope is it doesn’t blow in the two days I’m hoping to have to cross Russia. That’d be a nghtmare.
But you know, me and Dorothy have been riding with a special ‘something’ on our shoulder this whole trip. I’m not a spiritual fella or even religious but it really does make you wonder how the fuck we’ve made it this far without very much hassle. There’s a great book; the Alchemist, by Paul Collio (or something like that). It’s about a shepherd who goes on an adventure in search of his dreams. At a market he meets a king who tells him that if you want something bad enough then the soul of the earth (or something like that) will conspire to help you, and make it so.
Me and Dorothy kinda feel like that. We want to complete this journey so so badly. It’s everything. We need to finish it. And as long as there’s still a breeze to sail on and a stride in our step then we’ll keep on ploddin, west, the way we’ve been blowing the last 27,000 kays.
So I’m not worried, not just yet. Because wonky sump plug or not, we’ll make it.
Right, off to sort out this parcel’s delivery point.