Trailer Shame. Up until now the only time I’ve trucked a bike (once) was when I knowingly bought a non-running Yamaha motorcycle. With Lynn taking the winter off to recover from his total joint replacement I added a trailer.
Our new-to-us motorcycle trailer behind our home on wheels.
This trailer started out in life as a 1983 Starcraft pop-up camper. We spent a long month living with some friends to make it easier for Lynn to move around while his leg healed. Well, as certified guests from hell, we were originally going to stay for five days after the surgery, then we arrived a week early so we could use their shower for the seven days of surgical scrub soap showers, then a few more days while I hammered apart the brake calipers and installed new brake pads, then our home failed the state inspection so we stayed another week or so and I changed the lower ball joints. And took care of Lynn in the first weeks and drove him to physical therapy and check ups with the surgeon. And put new tires on the trailer and tie down bolts and upgraded the lights and welded on steel fenders.
I went surfing on the trailer with my bike when I was laying out bike and tie down locations. Next time I’ll chock the wheels, and not just put the tongue on a jack stand and a floor jack under the tail. And when I was loading up to get back on the road, I found out that the adjusting nut was missing from the hitch clamp thingy. Yes I found myself standing on the back of the trailer with the hitch in the air a bike in my hands and my host standing behind me asking “Do you need a hand?”
We are trailer our bikes this winter.
