"Road Trips" by The Old Squid
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the
Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you may be
swept off to." Bilbo Baggins
Monterey, Part 3
Women

This ride was a "Boy Dog" ride, at least for the island guys. Five men,
ages 40 to 60. All of us mature, tasteful, sensitive... NOT! It is amazing
how quickly we found our way back to the gutter we had all climbed out of
many years ago. Or did we climb out at all?. We rode hard every day. We
talked bikes and we talked about the women we saw along the way just like a
bunch of randy college boys. This devolution took maybe one day. Maybe less.
While with the VFR group, we tried to maintain some decorum as the
Norwegian girl, Hegge, was riding with them. I say "girl" yet she was 30
years old and had two college degrees. Such is the power of the testosterone
addled mind set. When we were off by ourselves tho, we indulged in
politically incorrect speculation, lewd jokes, and third degree lechery with
intent to gape! Damn it was refreshing! Made me feel all warm and immature
again.
Early in the ride, the self same Hegge bloodied one of our number,
intentionally or not, we don't know. Four of the Island Mob stayed with the VFR
group in Seattle the first night. The youngest of our group, (age 40) was
sitting on the couch and offered to get up and let her sit down. Smiling
sweetly, Hegge said, "oh no. you're older than me. You stay there." OUCH! He
had been trying to deal with turning 40 this summer and this hurt. This was
partly compensated for by the Swedish woman we met two days later in Happy
Camp, CA.
We had been drooling over a gorgeous Aprilla sport bike in a parking
lot. Very trick and very rare when we found out it was owned by a Swedish
woman who's boyfriend had given it to her! Some of us were almost willing to
renounce heterosexuality for a boyfriend like that. It turned out, that he
didn't even like to ride motorcycles but knew that she did so he just ponied
up the $20,000 and turned her loose! (note to all wives and girlfriends:
here is a significant other to pay attention too and emulate!)
We were still joking at our Birthday Boy's expense about his run in with Hegge (after all,
what are good friends for?) and told the Swede what Hegge had said a couple
of days before and asked her what she thought. Her reply was that
"Norwegians are stupid". Well, i thought my buddy would follow her home he
was so relieved. He just melted.
Now why should these two comments from two strangers be so important?
So memorable? Part of the whole conundrum of the gender landscape I suppose
and it doesn't matter whether you're old or young, married or single.
It was also on this day that we saw the yin and the yang of women in
America. The first was in Orleans along the Klamath River. We had dropped
down along a twisty Hwy 96 into the little town and I needed fuel. Besides,
I'm in love with small towns and wanted to stop. I love the flavor of these
small places and every time I go through one, I wonder what it would be like to
live there, I live vicariously through the people I meet and talk to them to
get a feel of the places they inhabit. Orleans is isolated enough so that
the tide of tourism that washes through the local color hadn't destroyed it
at all. It was still an honest working place. Not a Starbucks or other name
brand in sight except ones like NAPA and Union 76. Working names. Small town
brands.
I pulled up to the pump at a dusty little gas station and the rest of
the Mob filled in alongside as they came out of the last curve. A 40
something woman came out of the station, trying to wipe dirt off of her
hands and not doing a very good job of it. She was pleasant and open with a
very pretty smile and asked about our ride with interest.
After I was done and as the rest filled up, I asked about restroom
facilities and she said that the ones in the station were too dirty and that
we should use the ones down the road at the cafe. I didn't want to walk all
that way so I checked around the side figuring that I'd sneak into the woods
but there was the door to the restroom so I peeked in.
It wasn't "guy" dirty, it was only "girl" dirty! There were even flowers
in there fer gawds sake! Now here's a woman with black rubber dust up to her
elbows (she had been mounting new tires on a customer's truck) and she was
worried that the restroom wasn't clean enough for us and would make a bad
impression. She needn't have worried. We were already all in love with her.
She ran the gas station, changed tires, was attractive, bright. What an
interesting person. This wasn't just my impression either. The other guys
thought she had that spirit of being a "real, live woman" also.
She was one end of the spectrum. In Weaverville that night we met the
other.
We had a motel in Weaverville reserved and we pulled in around 5 p.m. on
July 3. Signs in the street told of fireworks and a dance at the local
park. They do this on the 3rd so folks can rest and do family things on the
4th. Not a bad idea really. The very first thing we did was jump in the
cool swim pool. This had been the warmest day so far and it had been a long,
intense ride. We were wiped out and needed a break. After dinner at a local
Mexican place I started exploring the town. I told the guys that I'd see
them at the dance and fireworks later.
Weaverville has a bit of tourism but still has enough small town to be
interesting. Besides, who can resist a 4th of July picnic and outdoor fair.
I parked the Blackbird in the park and joined the large crowd at a very
nicely laid out celebration at the public park next to the local school.
There were rides and activities and food from local stands. Various bands
played.
One of the things I found interesting was the attitudes and behavior of
the local kids. They were quiet and self assured. They didn't seem to have
the need to protect their turf like I've seen in other small towns. Maybe it
comes from living in the top economic state in the top economic country. Two
local boys came over to look at my bike and ask questions about it. They
were about 16, open and friendly. They asked were I was from, all the while
keeping up a running banter with each other. One was teasing the other
because he had stolen his girlfriend recently!
I was surprised and said, "But no hard feeling?"
"Nah," they said. "We're still friends."
And you will be long after this girl's gone I thought. It was good to see
kids as comfortable in a friendship as this.
Later I wandered over to the food and dance area again (small fairs are
the same everywhere: good friends and bad food!) and ran into Marshall and
Denny. I had my back to the dance floor when Marshall said, "Turn very
slowly to the left."
I did and saw an absolutely stare-able woman! No, make that a stunning,
no make that incredible, no ... the mind boggles! Words fail. This woman was
late 20s and movie star/celebrity beautiful. She was tall, 5-feet 10 inches at least.
Dark brown hair and dressed in tight pants and a tube top and she was
obviously the sole guardian of two unsupported dependents which definitely
had been enhanced. She radiated life and vivacity.
Marshall reminded me to close my mouth and quit drooling and after a few
more looks, we both agreed that we should leave the area before we made
total fools of ourselves. We simply couldn't stop staring. This woman was
"drop dead gorgeous" and we had the jitters just being around her.
An aside here to all my woman readers (assuming any of you have stuck
with me in this Oode to the inner teen). Many woman don't know what Drop
Dead Gorgeous really means. Last year a couple of 13 year old girls used the
term as a compliment about another person and I asked them if they knew what
it meant. They said "It meant that someone was really pretty."
Yes, but a lot more. To a guy, it means a girl who is really beautiful.
So beautiful that if you go up to her and say "Hi", shešll stare at you and
say, "drop dead creep!" That's where the "drop dead" part of that term comes from. Trust me. I've been there and had it happen. Once, that was a direct
quote. Other times its been implied in so many words but the message was
loud and clear. Let that happen a few times and you develop a phobia and
wariness around really pretty woman.
This woman was DDG in a way I hadn't seen in a long time. Marshal and I
talked about this and as we talked we speculated that maybe she was so
pretty that she was lonely because everyone avoided her. I thought, why not
just go up and say "hi" and talk to her about her town. Or maybe be bold and
ask her if her beauty was a burden. I played out a whole dialog in my mind
and then walked back to where she was standing...
...walked right by and bought a corn dog! What do you think I am, stupid? No
way in hell am I gonna chance talking to someone like that. She wasn't
lonely and that tube top said she knew exactly what the effect those
enhanced breasts had on men. Shields up! Gimme a corn dog. Let's go watch
the fireworks and avoid getting burned!
The Mob all met overlooking the park for the fireworks. Glow necklaces
were for sale and it was a tradition here for everyone to buy them and toss
them in the air as the sky darkened while they waited. It was peaceful and
quiet compared to the rather raucous 4th's I'm used to up in Washington.
There were NO private fireworks in this town. Not even the safe-n-sane
variety as far as I could see. Only the blue green circle of the necklaces
being spun and tossed. Hundreds of them.
In Washington, we go to the Indian reservation to buy fireworks made in
communist China. Then we set them off illegally to celebrate our
independence. Don't ya love a universe that has a sense of irony?
It turned out that this DDG woman wouldn't be the only surgically
enhanced woman we'd run into on this trip either. it seems to be quite a bit
more common in California. The "umbrella girls" at the race track were a
case in point. These girls have a real function at the start of the race in
that the racers have to sit on the starting grid for a few minutes before
the race gets underway. The riders are in full leathers and cooking in the
sun so the shade is needed and even though a mechanic could hold an
umbrella, with an eye to TV and spectacle, the organizers have seen to it
that pretty girls hold them. These girls are part of the scene now and have
achieved celebrity status at the races and are followed by fans to have
their picture taken with them. Yeah, me too :-)
Most of these girls fit a common but artifical body profile too. They
are tall, anorexic, and have huge breasts! Pardon me but how can they look
like they have an eating disorder and still be that stacked? It doesn't look
right girls. Don't do that to yourselves!
The most desirable woman we met on the whole trip was changing tires! She had a pretty smile...and intelligence...and warmth! The physically prettiest woman we met was also
the scariest. And little of this has anything to do with a motorcycle trip
but that's the way journeys are. Sometimes there is more than one journey
happening. I guess that's why a road trip is always looked forward too.
(to
be continued)
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