In the middle of nowhere, grey skies and a cold North wind it gets worse. Much worse.The back of the bike wobbles and A howling noise comes from behind me that is not Sharyn. It is the big bearing that holds on the back wheel.
Up ahead I see a tun-in for trucks and so we limp another mile and pull off the road into a junk yard with a cafe and a tyre changing shed for trucks.

We have a spare bearing so I set to work trying to get things sorted out.
Sharyn heads off to the caff to get two coffees to raise our spirits. Unless we get out of this one the adventure is over.

The tyre guys wander over for a look and they offer to help. One has a sledge hammer, not a tool in the BMW service manual. Eventually, he and his mates heat up the bearing and spring it off.

I thank them and I persuade them that I can re-assemble the new one without a sledgehammer. We fire up the camping stove for the hot piece and we buy water from the caff to cool the cold one. It works! Both parts fit together and an hour later we very gingerly head down the road.
Everything with weight is left behind. Including the tent. We just have to get 5km down the road and maybe a garage and a bed.

The 5km we were told becomes50km but we do find a motel and we manage to get the last room.
There are two dirty outside with GB number plates belonging to two lovely English guys from Lincolnshire. They are limping back from a long trip with Nick Sanders.
We have a beer or two at the end of a stressful day.

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