The Journey Home

"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

The Journey Home

posted 04/02/03
Every trip has one of those days when you know its "Over". On Star Trek they just beam up and never have to deal with the time spent getting home. Spock and the Captain have a few last quips on the bridge and its over. Me, I’m 1500 miles and many days from home.

The Mob is standing in front of the Monterey Aquarium. We’ve checked out of the motel and that left over part of our childhood training kicks in and we feel the need to "do something educational". As if this somehow makes up for the beer we’ve drunk, women we’ve leered at, and speed limits we’ve ignored. We’ll put our visit here in a prominent place in our stories to wives and co-workers we want to impress and soft pedal the rest. Like we drove 3000 miles to see a bunch of tuna swim in circles!?!?

Well of course we did. Very nice aquarium. Really! I was in it for 2 hours and it felt like 45 minutes. Really.

So we’re standing in front of the entrance, scuffing our feet and realizing that this is really IT. The breaking of the Fellowship. Denny, Marshall, Mark, and I will find our own ways home. Denny and I will meet again in a couple of days but not ride back together. Marshall doesn’t want to break up the group but Mark wants to head out and so he leaves first. Then we watch as Denny rides into a cool, misty morning. Time to go.

I head up the coast to Sebastapol and stay with friends in a house out of another time. Dark wood walls smelling of spicy tacos and wood smoke. Motorcycle parts on the table. This is me and all my Oregon motorcycle hippy friends from 30 years ago. The next day is cool and misty and the only rain I encounter on the whole trip falls in the morning. Just enough to wet the road but not enough to break out the rain gear. East through the hills until I crossed I-5 by Fulton and then to Calistoga.

It’s still cool, almost cold, as I pass thru the vineyards and head over the steep ridge to Middletown. I told Denny I’d meet him at Harbin Hot Springs for a little R&R. Fast riding, racing, we needed to decompress. Harbin was the answer. A rustic setting with four different pools of varying temperatures from cool to soothing to warm to OH MY GOD, HOT ! There is an old hotel, dorm type accommodations, camping, and cooking facilities on hundreds of acres. The atmosphere is "the 60’s meet the New Age". Classes are offered in various meditations and things farther out like "Healing the Father Wound" Hmmm, didn’t know I had one. Well, live and let live.

Denny arrives and he stays for a night and we relax and ride the local area. I stay one more night after he leaves and on that final night I’m in the big pool when an attractive woman strikes up a conversation with me. We talk for a few minutes when suddenly, her jealous girlfriend cuts between us and glaring at me, moves her away. Well that was interesting and not wanting a repeat, I turn and talk to a guy sitting on the other side of me. He’s from the east coast, out visiting a friend. Suddenly, said friend, said jealous boyfriend shows up, cuts between us and glaring at me, moves him away! Well sheeeit! This is no place for a peckerwood redneck heterosexual. Man or woman, a fella is takin his life in his hands just talkin to folks here. Time to hit the road again. Bend is 600 miles north and I can do it in one day if I get a start early in the morning.

I hit the road at 7 a.m. and ride steadily and briskly. I'd met Jesus and Elvis in a turn on the way down so I don’t want to repeat the experience anytime soon. North up I-5 to Weed, I turn onto 97 and head to Klamath Falls. This is a pretty section of road as a high, flat pass goes through Grass Lakes. There aren’t many curves after I reach the halfway point. It’s just one long green straightaway into the little town of Dorris. The high mountain air smells good. The XX is running strong. I want to make tracks home so the speed creeps up. 80 thru the sweeping corners. Then 90. In the distance, I can just see the water tower and huge flagpole of Dorris. It's maybe 15 miles away but in the clear mountain air it's easily visible. Not a car in sight. Ah, what the hell. You knew this was coming.

I grab a handful of throttle and hunker down behind the fairing. Soon I'm ripping down the road at 150 and my vision tunnels in with that star drive effect. The peripheral vision is blurry from speed and only far ahead is clear. The road is straight but it does have dips. I’m watching for traffic ahead and suddenly a car pops out of one of those dips going the opposite way. Why didn’t i see him earlier? Where the hell was he? I back out of the throttle and zip by him at 120 and the reptile brain lights up a warning as I register that it was a California Highway Patrol car!

I watch the mirror for blue lights. If he pops them on, I’ll pull over. Better a gross misdemeanor than a felony! Nothing happens. All right now, let’s just keep going and get to that town! I pull into Dorris and quickly see a cafe with two bigass pickups parked around the side. I pull in between them, go in and find a booth and kick my jacket and helmet under the table. It was lunch time anyway.

Just as I order, the CHP pulls up in front. Oh s**t! Then the County Sheriff pulls in with him. Oh double s**t! The waitresses are talking and must have a police scanner in the back because one says to the other "They’re lookin’ for someone!" The ‘someone’ keeps eating his cheeseburger and tries to look like a middle aged tourist on vacation! "Just passin through officer".

May I recommend the Dysfunction Junction Cafe to all? Best cheese burger of the trip and wonderful off-street parking. The friendly waitress told me it was only five miles to the border and then laughed her head off when I pulled my helmet out from under the table. I looked carefully around before I got the bike out from between the trucks and rode briskly towards Oregon. As I passed the "Welcome to Oregon" sign, I exhaled and knew exactly how the James brothers must’ve felt as they crossed jurisdictions.

I made Bend that evening and the trip was over. My wife drove down from the island and we went to the Sisters Outdoor Quilt Show. My long solo adventure with the boys was now a family vacation. At the show on Saturday, I lost track of my wife and looking at the throng of 20,000 women in the small town, I jokingly asked the local policeman, "I’m trying to find my wife. She’s middle aged, gray haired, average height."

He laughed and said "Take your pick." I did and found the right one.

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