Fender Cracko-Caster

We set out from Brixen at beautiful weather BUT with some clouds lingering.
We were now at the very verge of the Brenner pass itself and had three options. Well, four if you counted the motorway, but we already disregarded from that. Thus! There was a curly way going stright up, a semi curly one going to the left and a fairly uncurly going to the right. We decided to go easy on the bikes and took the right one, which probably was a lucky choice. The incline was fairly substantial for us but not for anybody else so we constantly had a happy queue behind us. Then the wind begun to pick up and speed diminished even more. We climbed and climbed and it got colder and colder and we had to stop to to put on more and more clothes, much to the delight of our tail, that could overtake us when we did so.

Eventually we got up to what appeared to be the highest point and posed for photos and started downhill again. It is funny how much faster the bikes went... I mean, the incline was just as steep going down... Well, hnnn, yes... Strange... Anyhow, close to Insbruck, we pulled over by a tourist info and spoke to the very nice, pretty and competent Maria. She gave us directions through the city itself and onwards toward Munchen over Rosenheim. We went through the city, out into the countryside and suddenly Lars-Inge pulled up and claimed that the bike was waving from side to side like crazy. Closer inspection showed that the fender had begun to split in a severe kind of way, just behind the hinge. The stability of the bike was impaired and we had to move all the STUFF that Lars-Inge packed and split it up between me and Miles. The bikes looked ridiculously overloaded and had the road worthyness of a bowl of jelly. We continued gingerly. VERY VERY gingerly. To make things even LESS appetizing, Nimmer had begun to develop a leakage in the exhaust vales in third and fourth cylinders and was loosing power FAST. The load on the side car was also to much for the little bike so things did not look good, on the whole..

First gas station, we pulled over and talked to the locals to try and find a similarly local welder, but the message was: There IS a welder around here, but since it is Sunday, you are out of luck. Try further down the road. This became rather repetitive, eventually. Then came the sign from the powers above. Going through a village with our hearts in our boots, I saw the local church. It had the following words on the tower:

O Maria!
Bring comfort to those in despair!
Pray for them.

This turned out to be an omen since shortly after that, we pulled up by a cafee and ice cream stand that was open, and met Bernie. Bernie, turned out to be a gentleman in a Rolls Royce from the fifties that had starting problems. He immediately acknowledged OUR problems and offered us shelter and access to a garage. We GLADLY accepted.

Bernie, and his charming wife Susan, appeared to live in a beautiful and LARGE house from the 18:th century. It later turned out to be a whole castle, (Schloss Urfahren), complete with a castle chapel, monastery and court yard. The garage was VERY spacey and Miles and I started on Nimmer at once.
Lars-Inge took off the partially severed fender and things got deeper and deeper into the wonders of vehicular mechanics. Miles and I soon got the cylinder head off and third and fourth head area looked like a disaster. Miles started to excavate the head from carbon deposits. After a while the boys started to move towards dinner but I was so inside the intricacies of valve lapping that I vaguely heard them. Our hosts had went out visiting (friends? Relatives? What do I know? I was ENGULFED). So the hours passed. Valves were getting done. Susan and Bernie came home and Susan insisted in making me sandwiches. I am sorry for being less than present, Susan and Bernie, but a mechanic has to do what a mechanic has to do. Eventually, Nimmer was back together and I emerged from the garage with Nimmers back end, firing it up. It started and sounded just GREAT. On the porch, Bernie, Susan with FRIENDS (where did they come from?) applauded. I washed my hands and must have looked like the crazed scientist in any a Warner Brothers cartoon. I was invited to sit down, have my sandwiches (MAN, were they good), a glass of excellent wine and did my best to converse. I wonder how coherent I was at that point, but the bike was fine. We have a chance to make the ferry to the Bornholm meet still.

THEN, Lars-Inge and Miles showed up. They brought a nondescript greek salad that stunk like onion and was full of oil (Miles' description). Well, it was nice of them but... The sandwiches WERE nicer (sorry guys, and thanks anyhow). After a few toasts with our gentle locals, we withdrew to the premises made available by our hosts and fell asleep. At once.