We only made it about a half mile from Alfredos house when his bike ran out of gas, and he had to push it up Branford hill to the gas station. I guess the fumes in there weren't enough. As we passed through New Haven, The Fetus stalled and wouldn't start back up, so we dove into with the wrenches in a shitty mexican restaurant parking lot. We realized that the new S and S carb wasn't venting properly, and was getting starved of gas. We dismantled the carb, and found nothing wrong, so we put it back on. Then the bike started up and we rode away... now it seems fine.. weird.
We made it there in a few hours and without any drama.
I had never been to this event before, and found it to be a bit uncomfortable. The old bikes were amazing but it felt like everyone selling stuff had a secret they didn't want to tell you or something. A very strange vibe. I didn't care, it was more of a destination to ride to. There were some amazing machines though.
We met up with my friend Alex when we arrived. We unexpectedly ran into Matt Olsons dad, the Legendary Carl, and Dave from Morris Magneto. We showed Dave our three bikes parked, all of which are powered by his mags!
We passed out at a nearby motel for the night. This place was, lets just say, affordable. Luckily there was a bar across the street, with no one there! Perfect
The next day we woke up, found it to be pouring rain, so decided to head home. 120 mile ride home, pouring rain, neither bike had a single problem. When we got to Derby it had cleared up a bit.
We stopped by the harley dealership on the way home so we could get some supplies to do an oil change, and got the usual confused looks from the skull bandanna crowd. Some got out their cameras when Alfredo kick started the Fetus. We made it home and I hopped on the lathe...