During the Thanksgiving weekend, a dentist friend and I made our way from Tulsa, Okla., down to SE Oklahoma, particularly the Talimena Drive area, inside the Ouachita National Forest, for a few days of deer camp on a private lease.

Being the typical Oklahoma weather during November at 65 degrees, I decided to follow my friend on my pride and joy, a '98 Honda Valkyrie, and planned to do some mountain running the next day. He was driving a '95 Chevy 1-ton 4x4, with a 35-ft travel trailer in tow. We arrived at deer camp that evening, set up, and enjoyed a beautiful, crisp evening around a campfire with about 30 other hunters.

The next morning around 9am, after spending 3-4 hours in a tree stand, I got a call from my friend on the two-way radio asking if I had had any luck...... "Negative ......haven't seen a damn thing....."

We agreed to meet back at camp in 1 hour, have lunch, and then I was going to enjoy a couple hours of riding the "twisties" of Talimena Drive, and putting the Valk through some serious 'peg-to-peg' fun on those mountain roads.......YEAH!

After lunch, I advised my friend that I would be back in a couple of hours, and he stated that he needed to go into town and refill the propane tanks on the trailer, which he apparently had neglected to remember, prior to leaving. Ok, no problem.......since he was slightly unfamiliar with the area, I told him to follow me, and that I would lead him to a propane station that I knew to be open..... He unhooked his propane tanks from the trailer, threw them in the back of his truck, and we were on our way. I lead him south on Hwy 59 out of Heavener, Okla., (Beautiful area if any of you fellow riders have the chance to see it, especially in the fall) towards the little town of Hodgens, Okla. As we approached Hwy 270 west, I hit the mic key in my inner-helmet radio, and advised him that the propane station was just ahead past my turnoff, and that he should have no problems finding his way back to camp.

I turned west on Hwy 270, and the hills really started to grow. I thought to myself, "Man, this is gonna be really good!"

Now for those of you who have never enjoyed this area of our beautiful state, just to give you an idea of what it is like, picture this...... At the beginning turnoff of Talimena Drive, there is a sign warning all vehicles:

"W A R N I N G !"
"Narrow and Winding Roads Next Several Miles
Grades in Excess of 13%
Large Vehicles are NOT Recommended"

Some of these roads appear to be so steep, that if you were to stop at the bottom, you almost have to look at a 45 degree angle to see the top.......perfect Valkyrie conditions!

I had been enjoying about 15 minutes or so, of "twisties" and made my way up to the top of one of the mountain turnoffs, which was one of the scenic rest areas. I got off the bike, killed the motor, and was enjoying the incredible view standing by the protective railing, when I heard a lot of static come over my inner-helmet radio........ "....(crackle...static.....static)....need some help...(static)...broke down!....(crackle...static) fuel line busted.....(static......static)"

Since I knew that the only people on this private frequency were my friend and I, something must have gone wrong, and I decided to head back. I tried to return his call, but terrain prevented any real connection at that location. I headed back to where I knew that I had split off from my friend, stopping on every mountain top to attempt another call. Finally, about two mountain ranges in, I got a solid, clear signal.......

"My fuel line coming from the main tank apparently got torn from the metal line, and I ran out of gas. The secondary tank refills into the main tank, so that won't do any good until the line is repaired. Are you close?"

I advised him to hang tight for about 10 minutes, and I would be there. The trouble is, he had made a wrong turn coming back to camp, and was not where he was supposed to be.....

About two miles from the turnoff, I rounded a hairpin curve at about 50 mph, and there he was, smack dab in the middle of my lane, at the bottom of the mountain. Blind curve and all, it was not a pretty sight by any means, and especially dangerous should any traffic be coming down the mountain.

I told my friend that he was probably in the worst spot he could have found to break down, and that I would go back up to the mountain top, and attempt to flag down any motorist, warning them of my friend's truck in the roadway, and get on the cellular phone, with hopes of getting a wrecker out here....

Getting to the top, wouldn't you know it......Zero cellular service! Nothing.....no signal......zipp! "Oh great....now what do we do!?"

We waited for about 30 minutes for someone to come by and ask them to call a wrecker for us.....except that no one did! Sunday morning, and there was no one around. I knew I couldn't leave my spot for very long, because sure as I did, a bus load of nuns would come barreling down the mountain, and kill everyone.....

I radioed to my friend and asked him if he had a tow strap..... "Yes I do...." "Hook it to the front tow-hooks of your truck and stretch it out...." I advised him. He did, and I proceeded to make my way down the mountain, pulling in front of his truck. He looked at me, and when he realized what I was going to attempt, he just started laughing..... "There is no way in hell that bike is gonna do what you think it's gonna do....!"

I quickly told him that we had no other choice at the moment, and that the closest fuel stop/garage was back at the turnoff, about 3 miles or so, ahead. I wrapped the free end of the strap around the left shock absorber of the Valkyrie, down where it meets the swing-arm, and rolled forward to take up slack.

Now sitting where we were, we had about 200 feet of slight down-grade, which would allow me to at least get the truck going in a forward motion. There was a level stretch of road beyond that for about 1/2 mile, which then curved to the right, and out of sight. My friend climbed into his truck, and I began to ease forward, thinking ".....well big girl, let's just see what you've got...."

I let out the clutch....1st gear......moving up to about 15 mph, I thought to myself, "Ok, no problem, let's try second, and we will leave it at that...." 2nd gear.....up to about 20 mph or so. "Ok, good enough..." We rounded the curve to the right, and wouldn't you know it.....there it was....about 1/2 mile of 13% upgrade.... I thought to myself, "Well, this is for all the marbles. Show me what you've got, girl!!"

I twisted the throttle back in second gear, and that big girl began to growl......25....26....27....all the way up to 30 mph, then we hit the bottom of the mountain.....30....29.....28..... At 25 mph, I grabbed 1st gear, and kept going....holding the Valkyrie wide-open. I looked at the speedo.....25....26...25....26.... Thank the good lord that the road was straight and not curved, because that truck was pulling me seriously to the left, especially with the wide-open throttle application.

Half way up the mountain.......20.....19.....18....17.....17.....17... "come on girl, doing good so far" now the fan comes on.....17....16....17....16.... Almost to the top, the front end of the Valk started to dance around a little, and I felt the rear tire "chirp" a couple of times, but we finally made it.

The look on the mechanic's face was quite humorous when we coasted into the garage, and I will remember that for a long time to come. Never again will I wonder....."Just how much power has this Valk got?"

As we were packing up the next day to head back to Tulsa, my friend asked me...."Hey, you wanna pull my travel trailer with that thing?"

I declined his offer...

Steve (ICEMAN) Osborn
Member-Valkyrie Owner's Association #722
sosborn@webzone.net