Hubby called me near the end of my work day today. The clutch cable on his motorcycle broke and he couldn’t ride it home, which meant that he was stuck at college a half-hour away. He tried to call a motorcycle repair shop, but they were only willing to help if he already had a clutch cable. His cable is not a run-of-the-mill, buy-it-at-any-store sort of cable. It’s longer than normal and a special order item, which took a few months to get when he first ordered it. That means that a cycle shop would have to order the thing, which this cycle shop obviously wasn’t willing to do. What are they in business for?
Hubby thought he could make a temporary fix of the cable because only a small metal piece at the end of the cable had snapped off. Unfortunately, he wasn’t close to a hardware store. Meanwhile, I was thinking along the lines of figuring out how to rent a trailer to get the bike home. I called General Rental Center, but it was going to be closed by the time I got to where Hubby was. No matter what our tentative plans were as far as the bike was concerned, I had to drive to Hubby’s location in order to make sure he could get home.
I met up with Hubby and discovered that he had pinpointed the location hardware store, one I had driven past on my way to retrieve him. It was open late enough and we went and bought a part we thought might work. Back at the bike, Hubby used the tools in the toolbox I had thought to bring and was able to rig the clutch cable back up. He took a trip around a block to be sure it was going to work and we managed to get us and our vehicles home without incident.
Rolling with disaster.