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"ROAD TRIPS" by THE OLD SQUID |
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"Road Trips" by The Old Squid
Is North Really Uphill?
Monday, it was time to go. Last year, the trip was "over" the day after the races but this time I vowed that we were only ½ way through our fun. There were still sights to see and roads to ride. Our first stop was to hit the Post Office to mail our souvenirs home. OS travel tip #8: When traveling light, mail the keepsakes home. We weren't the only ones with that idea. There were several other bikers in the PO mailing everything from old helmets (they bought new ones at the races) to dirty clothes (?). I left Nat in line and I went down to the library to get on-line and check e-mail. I frequently use libraries for this and conduct business and keep up with news at home via sanjuanislander.com A shameless plug, but it's true. Yahoo gives me world and national news and finances Komotv.com the local Seattle stuff. Sanjuanislander.com tells me what the islanders are up to and who's cows got out. Every couple of days seems to works just fine and it's a nice break in the road routine to stop for an hour in a small public library and catch up on news and e-mail . I finished and we left town around 10 a.m. and went northeast though Oakland. We were confused much of the time as California has some of the worst signage in the world on its freeways. We wanted the "Richmond-San Rafael Bridge" but saw not one sign telling us we were on the right track until the toll booth was already in sight. This was true everywhere we went in California. Loved the roads. Thought the drivers were great! Hated the directions. Hwy. 101 was cooler this week and we stopped at Laytonville again for the night then headed out on Tuesday to see the Redwoods. We'd been in a hurry coming down and I'd promised sightseeing on the way home. We rode the Avenue of the Giants and stopped at the Founders Grove to walk among the Trees. "Trees" has to be capitalized here. These are huge! On the way down, we'd come thru here but were traveling too fast and didnšt stop. I'd even had one Star Wars moment on a long straight section of narrow two-lane through the trees. My inner teen had reached out, grabbed the throttle and before I knew it, I was pursuing Federation Storm Troopers on my speeder. At 110mph the section of road didn't last long and I soon had to drop out of warp speeds and obey the laws of physics if not the traffic laws. My motorcycle may not be the fountain of youth but on some days, its the fountain of immaturity and that works just as well for me. We rolled up 101 to Crescent City and finally, we see the Real Pacific...open beaches, tumbling surf...and just as soon, we head inland towards Oregon. We stop just inside California when I see a fruit stand. I think that some cherries would taste mighty good but I soon discover that this robber wants $4 a box! He's just past California Fruit Customs and I guess that he figures people will pay any price to replace what they've just lost coming into his fine state! I walk away in disgust but still trying to make a sale, he tells Nat that I can have the fruit for $3. I keep walking and as I leave, I see to it that some gravel and dust are sent his way courtesy the rear wheel. We cross into Oregon and spend the night with my in-laws again. Part of my "Mooch America" plan to reduce the price of travel. The next day is up I-5 the length of Oregon. Its pretty and evocative for me as I went to OSU long ago in my flamed out youth and rode my old Harley home to the Portland area on weekends to see my girlfriend. As the road signs rolled near, each one evoked an old memory of a breakdown on the old bike. Such are Harley memories. How bland life would have been in a reliable car. I elected to stay with friends in Vancouver WA and Nat wanted to just keep riding and go home. I said "sure, why not" and let him go. I was going out to dinner with a friend so I cleaned up and just prior to dinner turned my cell phone back on. In the old westerns, the trouble sign was that it was "quiet, too quiet out there! " For me it was 5 messages on the voice mail. Nat was broke down in Seattle. The bike was dead and he was stuck. His Mom had called too and was concerned. I called him and found out that he had been sitting for some time just off the freeway in the International district trying to trouble shoot the problem. He'd run the battery down now though so I couldn't talk him through a couple of tests. I told him to call a friend of mine in Seattle. I also suggested that he call his older brother who lives in Edmonds and to call me back when he knew where he would be staying that night. Half an hour later, I have one of those "modern moments". I'm sitting in a nice restaurant with my friend and my phone rings. It's my kid. While I'm on the phone, her phone rings. It's her kid. We sit there trouble shooting our families spread out over hundreds of miles, connected by small batteries and invisible waves. She sorted out her kids. Mine had been picked up by my friends and was now staying with them. We both hung up with a sigh just as dinner arrived. The next day I picked Nat up where he'd spent the night. His bike was actually "Home" as he'd bought it from the folks who had rescued him with a pick up truck the previous evening. We left it there, vowing to return on Saturday to retrieve it, and rode double up to Anacortes. We were cramped with all our gear and thankful that it was only this one short ride we had to do this way. Traffic was the usual jam up and no lane splitting allowed so we just barely made the ferry. 2856 miles. It was hot at times, tense at times, uncertain at times, exciting at times, breathtakingly beautiful at times. In life, we don't always remember all the average days but we do remember the really good ones and the really bad ones. Riding a motorcycle gives me more memorable days...of both kinds. I hope you all have a Road Trip in the coming year. |
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