I wake up. There's lots of fog, the air is COLD to say the least. I love the freezing refreshing air. Reminds me of a hard spring or late fall. I love the cold air in the mountains, it's perfect. I get it. I take off early, around 0700 but I notice I'm dehydrated or the altitude is affecting me. I feel slightly dizzy like my head is swimming in syrup. I ride for about an hour and stop off at this little country diner. I'm starving so hard my gut hurts. That or I've got worms. Which wouldn't be so bad, I'd have a 6 pack if I had worms! haha, ok so the diner is small, there's a town meeting in the one room and the waitress looks like she's had enough and she could really go for a long vacation. I try to be as pleasant as possible and tip her big thanks to the strong coffee and amazing steak with eggs. Still I feel funny, probably dehydration. The temperature is around 34 degrees in the sun. I take a few pictures and get off. Slowly I'm descending into Denver. The temp rapidly climbs and I'm able to shed the jacket and layers and sweat is glistening on my arms. Just a few hours before I was dying in cold! Anyhow, the decent is winding and precarious. Lots of 'Caution' signs dot the sides of the road. I take a quick break to pull over and do my business in the brush. A few semi's honk and a squad car rolls by with lights and sirens. I hop on and take off. A few miles further on a car has taken a descending curve too fast and counter steered too hard.....right off the mountain. I slow down to rubberneck and see the car is hung up in trees and all kind of emergency vehicles are around. Crazy! 1.5 hrs to go.
The outskirts of Denver remind me of Chicago. Run down, dark, dirty. The closer to the center of the city I get the nicer things look and the more friendly people seem. I get into the city and people drive pretty well, not as selfishly as in Chicago, so my nerves are much more calm. I get to a nice sandwich shop and have some lunch. After I finish up, I head to Matt's house. His crazy cute daughter just had a birthday, so I stop at Target to buy something for her. I have a long conversation about what to get, clothes or noisemakers? Noisemakers it is. I'm about 3 miles from the house and strap the gift down to the bike. It starts to slip through. Every turn I make, every stop it's getting out of its little holder. The last thing I want to give the kid is some beat up crushed heap of plastic, so I try to adjust it mid ride....oops, copper! I shift down and pin the throttle, Google Maps better not fail me now! I duck into a neighborhood which happens to be the right one and pull over to adjust the straps. We're good! I head over to the house. I'm so happy to see them and everything I pass the house. I turn around and there's momma Kate and lil Ivy just waiting for me, waving and smiling! Ugh soooo cute!! I park the bike and laugh and hug and smile, life is good. The parents are at work, but Kate shows me around. Obviously a doting loving crazy fun grandma that can't get enough of her granddaughter. She needs more babies to play with if you ask me. Anyhow, she gives me the great tour and I see how awesome Matt's got it here! They did some work to the house and it's so open and in such a great neighborhood. This guy is super jealous. Plus they have this super cute lil girl, Ivy. oh.my.god. She's the ultimate cutie! Momma Kate is obviously obsessed. How could you not bet? They have been inseparable since I arrived and it's absolutely cute.
It turns out the gift makes it....and did I mention it makes a bunch of noise?! Oh yeah, it's awesome like that. Matt gets home first and we make small chat as he makes dinner. He's become quite the grillmaster he tells me. I have no reason to not believe he's not, he's a married man after all! I have this memory as a child of looking up to Matt, thinking he was so cool. He was! And it was his birthday or barmitzvah or something and I kept making cards and running down to the house and giving them to him. I just remember my mom finally stopping me hahah i just remember grabbing a bunch a paper and busting out the package of Crayola happiness, and gettin to business. How annoyed would you be? You can't let a little kid know they suck, so you put on a smile and say thanks. That's what he did and that's probably the most prevailing memory I have of him. Well, that and he somehow memorized the men in black theme song after hearing it once. haha, anyhow, we drank amazingly great beer, and watched a storm roll through. The one thing he truly misses about the Chicago. Sitting in the garage and watching storms roll through, how awesome is that? He grills up the chicken after Rachel gets home, and she looks awesome!! She's definitely lost any baby weight she might've had, and is so nice and such a great host. She recants the business trip she was on and I can't help but think to myself one day I want to be so good at what I do that I have to travel to spread the word etc. The rain starts in a drizzle that quickly escalates into a full blow downpour. Oh sweet. I don't offer to help the chef and here's why: Never Grill on Another Mans Grill. Unless you are asked to help, it should never be conveyed that the grillmaster needs help or you have an opinion about how they grill. And this is a great time to follow that to a T. Dinner gets served and we watch some shows and make awesome conversation. Of course Marijuana comes up in the dialogue. I'm super interested in it and how it's regulated from people whom fall under the jurisdiction of such laws. Amazing. They tell me its no big deal. Remember, alcohol was a banned substance in the past allowing for the rise of horrible violent criminals whom are often time romanticized in great movies and novels. Not dissimilar, our neighbor countries to the south see this opportunity and the criminals grow networks larger and more violent than anything Al Capone dremt of becoming. They also don't have syphilis, or at least take care of it before it makes them insane! These cartels ram weed into the country via our pour southern border and recruit merciless Latino immigrants and illegals to do their dirty work. Make it legal, tax the crap out of it, and manage it with growers here in this country, suddenly you take a chunk out of the cartel's take. Politics aside, you can consume weed in many different forms, edible at least. You can smoke it too, but you have to be inside or out on the back porch. When you eat it you get this body high, where you become super relaxed and calmed. Not like prescription drugs that will incapacitate you, you are still alert and oriented you just feel relaxed. They had some gummies laying out and I snagged a few, and what a feeling! There are kids suffering with debilitating diseases, in constant pain and we dope them up with opiates which are far more harmful to the human body than this herb, yet marijuana has been demonized and hated on by governments and big pharma. Because you can't patent life. Anyhow, I digress, it was wonderful and I had the most restful night of my life after that. But yeah, I don't crave it like i crave coffee or tea, so look out! Anyhow, I felt rejuvenated and completely rested. I hadn't felt like this since I was in San Francisco. We watched the most horrible cop movie ever called "RoboCop" the one that came out this year. We all groaned through it and got some kicks out of it for sure. It was a great time sitting, having amazing beer and conversation with awesome people. One I won't soon forget. While Denver is not on my top 5 of places to settle, it's amazing to visit and if you know cool people....you'll be in great hands!
The hardest part of every morning is packing. Making sure everything packed tight, tied down and in it's proper place. Matt got his mom and the baby ready to take them to the airport, and I said my goodbyes to Rachel and we all went our ways. I left and brought up the Google maps. 14hrs 45 minutes to home. Shit. That's a lot. 1000 miles. Ok, I can stop in Omaha or something right? There's probably stuff to do there. No. Time for ET to phone home.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Almost to Denver.....Damn Deer
So it turns out that Denver is only around 720 miles away if I ride it right. Google has offered a few different options but I dislike them and opt to take a more scenic route. I set off heading towards the 4 corners and am just so impressed with the desert. I love that it's all different, unless at a quick glance, there are so many shades of red, so many terrain features, and tons of "american indians".
It's about 1130 and the sun is freakin HOT. There are a few things to keep in mind when desert riding. Temp, engine temp, tire temp, skin temp, water. You need to drink 1L of water every hour, unless you are sweating it all out, and no matter how many times you stop, it's almost as if you can't keep your bike from wanting a break. On a long trip like this I've come to look at my bike as almost human. There are so many things I have to care about and dread the smallest thing happening. I pull over for gas, I get regular even though the manual says premium.....Won't burn quite as hot, maybe. Carefully fueling up is tricky when the gas station has no towels to keep excess gas from dripping on the tank. I replace the nozzle and out of nowhere I sneeze my head off. A nice mist sprays on the tire. And cue the steam. HOLY SHIT!! The tires are so hot that it's burning off water. I feel them with the back of my hand, HOT. I throw a cautionary spittle on the front, I figure my body temp is around 98 so the saliva is like warm enough that it won't cause damage. Well, no sizzle, but steam comes off it...So I pour a bunch of water over them and wait 15 min for the tires to cool off. I don't know if this is smart, dumb or neither. Either way, i go over in my head how to handle a blowout on a bike at 80mph. The only thing I can think of is, Jump away from the road.
As I go though the desert I catch the tail end of a motorcycle club riding about 75 mi south of the 4 corners on route 160. I follow and catch up to the van and pass it and ask the rear guard if I can join for a minute. I tell them i'm going to denver and they let me in! But i have to be in the middle and when I get there, the dude is less than pleased. They ride staggered like everyone, but on occasion form pairs for whatever reason. I just do as everyone else does. I notice the 4 corners is coming up (Utah, Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico) and want to stop....but I'm too chicken shit to break off from ZZ Top riding next to me, fearing the revolver not so hidden in his shoulder holster. So I pass up a great land mark and Breaking Bad nostalgia. About 20-30 miles later they are off to their bar, but I am behind schedule and tear off, waving and honking. I wanted pictures, I wanted hugs, I wanted beer, but I ain't got no time for that!! I stop for chow and notice I'm in Navajo Nation, I'm rushing. I pull the earbud out of my ear as I pull up to the pump and lose the rubber tip. SHIT. I run around looking for decent earbuds and settle for 15 bucks. I get going. The sun is rapidly leaving me behind and I'm terrible at night driving. As I pull past the sign welcoming me to Colorado, I regret not taking a picture, but I have a destination in mind. I'm hauling ass as I hit the mountains. The temp drops rapidly and soon I'm forced to pull over and add a hoodie. I keep going. I stop for gas in a big town, maybe I should stay the night? No. Push. The sun is going down leaving me in darkness as I navigate the winding steep roads of the mountains. Not the experience I thought, but what a rush!! At this pace I'll hit denver in 3-4 hours. Pitch. Black. Oncoming lights are blinding me, and the fear of colliding with a deer increase everytime I dodge roadkill. I'm going 65 and Semi's behind me are lining up, so I push to 75, adrenaline pumping hard, every fiber in my being is screaming at me to pull the fuck over and find a hotel. I see vision of my mom staring at me with that knowing face, telling me to get off the road. I'm a stubborn mule. Further on I push in the pitch black cold that are the roads of colorado. I've now got on a short sleeve shirt, the only long sleeve shirt, an underarmor hoodie, and my winter jacket, my neck warmer, gloves over gloves and I'm shaking with the coldness. I briefly glance down at the temp on my cell and it's hovering above 36. A deer pops up in my headlights and i lock up the rear tire and skid at 75 mph, almost instantly I realize the grave error as my focus shifts from the balsy deer to keeping the bike up. I rip my foot away from the pedal, let off the gas all the way, pull in the clutch and counter lean with all I have. The bike is at about 45-50 degrees getting closer to 90 and total destruction, before I can think, I suppress the urge to jerk the bike and keep riding it out into the normal orientation. The deer is gone and I slide through the spot where it once stood. Total time elapsed? MAYBE 5 seconds. That's a hard maybe, more than likely I'm at 3, although the slide felt like it lasted 3 seconds, which at 75 mph is freaking scary. I smile with pleasure at the adrenaline that I can feel in my veins, causing momentary warmth and a slight shake through my body. THAT'S how you live. Exactly what this whole trip is about, you can't have that kind of experience in a bed, or moping around, or in a job forcing you to work 14 hours for less than minimum wage! Ok. But for real, back to 75 and giddy.
I approach Pagosa Springs and another deer hops out. I'm able to suppress the instinct to slam the brakes and the deer bounds away before anything bad happens. I can't really handle the cold any longer. So i find a place to grab a burger and wolf down 2 and 2 orders of fries and 2L of water. I pass out. Disappointed I didn't make it to Denver, but my body is drained and a long hot shower helps rejuvenate.
It's about 1130 and the sun is freakin HOT. There are a few things to keep in mind when desert riding. Temp, engine temp, tire temp, skin temp, water. You need to drink 1L of water every hour, unless you are sweating it all out, and no matter how many times you stop, it's almost as if you can't keep your bike from wanting a break. On a long trip like this I've come to look at my bike as almost human. There are so many things I have to care about and dread the smallest thing happening. I pull over for gas, I get regular even though the manual says premium.....Won't burn quite as hot, maybe. Carefully fueling up is tricky when the gas station has no towels to keep excess gas from dripping on the tank. I replace the nozzle and out of nowhere I sneeze my head off. A nice mist sprays on the tire. And cue the steam. HOLY SHIT!! The tires are so hot that it's burning off water. I feel them with the back of my hand, HOT. I throw a cautionary spittle on the front, I figure my body temp is around 98 so the saliva is like warm enough that it won't cause damage. Well, no sizzle, but steam comes off it...So I pour a bunch of water over them and wait 15 min for the tires to cool off. I don't know if this is smart, dumb or neither. Either way, i go over in my head how to handle a blowout on a bike at 80mph. The only thing I can think of is, Jump away from the road.
As I go though the desert I catch the tail end of a motorcycle club riding about 75 mi south of the 4 corners on route 160. I follow and catch up to the van and pass it and ask the rear guard if I can join for a minute. I tell them i'm going to denver and they let me in! But i have to be in the middle and when I get there, the dude is less than pleased. They ride staggered like everyone, but on occasion form pairs for whatever reason. I just do as everyone else does. I notice the 4 corners is coming up (Utah, Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico) and want to stop....but I'm too chicken shit to break off from ZZ Top riding next to me, fearing the revolver not so hidden in his shoulder holster. So I pass up a great land mark and Breaking Bad nostalgia. About 20-30 miles later they are off to their bar, but I am behind schedule and tear off, waving and honking. I wanted pictures, I wanted hugs, I wanted beer, but I ain't got no time for that!! I stop for chow and notice I'm in Navajo Nation, I'm rushing. I pull the earbud out of my ear as I pull up to the pump and lose the rubber tip. SHIT. I run around looking for decent earbuds and settle for 15 bucks. I get going. The sun is rapidly leaving me behind and I'm terrible at night driving. As I pull past the sign welcoming me to Colorado, I regret not taking a picture, but I have a destination in mind. I'm hauling ass as I hit the mountains. The temp drops rapidly and soon I'm forced to pull over and add a hoodie. I keep going. I stop for gas in a big town, maybe I should stay the night? No. Push. The sun is going down leaving me in darkness as I navigate the winding steep roads of the mountains. Not the experience I thought, but what a rush!! At this pace I'll hit denver in 3-4 hours. Pitch. Black. Oncoming lights are blinding me, and the fear of colliding with a deer increase everytime I dodge roadkill. I'm going 65 and Semi's behind me are lining up, so I push to 75, adrenaline pumping hard, every fiber in my being is screaming at me to pull the fuck over and find a hotel. I see vision of my mom staring at me with that knowing face, telling me to get off the road. I'm a stubborn mule. Further on I push in the pitch black cold that are the roads of colorado. I've now got on a short sleeve shirt, the only long sleeve shirt, an underarmor hoodie, and my winter jacket, my neck warmer, gloves over gloves and I'm shaking with the coldness. I briefly glance down at the temp on my cell and it's hovering above 36. A deer pops up in my headlights and i lock up the rear tire and skid at 75 mph, almost instantly I realize the grave error as my focus shifts from the balsy deer to keeping the bike up. I rip my foot away from the pedal, let off the gas all the way, pull in the clutch and counter lean with all I have. The bike is at about 45-50 degrees getting closer to 90 and total destruction, before I can think, I suppress the urge to jerk the bike and keep riding it out into the normal orientation. The deer is gone and I slide through the spot where it once stood. Total time elapsed? MAYBE 5 seconds. That's a hard maybe, more than likely I'm at 3, although the slide felt like it lasted 3 seconds, which at 75 mph is freaking scary. I smile with pleasure at the adrenaline that I can feel in my veins, causing momentary warmth and a slight shake through my body. THAT'S how you live. Exactly what this whole trip is about, you can't have that kind of experience in a bed, or moping around, or in a job forcing you to work 14 hours for less than minimum wage! Ok. But for real, back to 75 and giddy.
I approach Pagosa Springs and another deer hops out. I'm able to suppress the instinct to slam the brakes and the deer bounds away before anything bad happens. I can't really handle the cold any longer. So i find a place to grab a burger and wolf down 2 and 2 orders of fries and 2L of water. I pass out. Disappointed I didn't make it to Denver, but my body is drained and a long hot shower helps rejuvenate.
Sedona-Old People and Douchebags....fml
So I briefly mentioned something about not being able to find anything open past 8pm (retirement community) and the guy yelling at me in the parking lot (super Arab douche) oh wait! I didn't! So I'm going up this giant hill that also doubles as a parking lot for this restaurant. I keep thinking to myself that Momma Kate kept saying to me in regards to the money i was given "spend it! Enjoy yourself, it's all for you" haha, as if i needed to justify my defense budget spending even further (premium gas is expensive no matter where you go it turns out). Thanks to healthy eating etc my expenses go up further than I ever wanted. But I want as much to go to the kids as I can so I try to be frugal when it comes to hotels. I digress, I'm struggling up this hill looking for the restaurant, a parking spot and to keep the bike going. The clutch hates me, my eyes are tired and wind blasted, and the sun is quickly disappearing. This guy sees me and literally jumps in front of my bike, so I swerve behind him and focus on keeping the bike from mating with the planet. When I regain control I stop at the stop sign 5 feet behind me...oops. I look around for a spot to park, but all i notice is the idiot that jumped in front of me with his arms wide in a Jersey hug fusion yelling "what bro?! what! you wanna go?!". With all the light glinting off of his greasy hair and his staggering walking, this guy needed a pal to prop him up to walk. C'mon. So I ignore dumbdumb and park my bike, you know on the sidewalk. Only because there were like 10 other bikes there! I'm walking towards the restaurant which is back where grease face was getting all sorts of tough, of course I'm thinking how to avoid a conflict, because I'm THAT hungry. I want food, not fight. No shit, there he is, arms wide like a drunk vulture "Oh you back bro?! You ready for this?! You wanna go?!" I'm standing there looking at this guy, there's people outside of the restaurant watching, so I guess full on murder is out of the question....hmmm, I walk towards this guy. I just wanted food, a glass of red, and some freaking peace but this guy interrupted that. So I wish to have words with him, and maybe convince him a cab is a good choice. I never got the chance, 3 or 4 steps into it he says "yeah, that's what i thought" and gets in his car. I would've ran after his car urging him to get in a cab, but it's not Hollywood and I'm over it. The host apologizes for that character, apparently hes a regular and loves booze. Great, these people definitely deserve my money haha. The time for relaxing and a nice meal is on! Nope. Wrong again. I sit at the bar and order an iced tea. Yeah, the bar, iced tea, I know. So after I do some old guy in a plaid shirt asks me if i'm one of "those homosexxxuals", you know carrying the x sound for wayyy too long. I really just want food, why is there so much work involved?! So I calmly reply "no why? Are you gonna try to teach me something new?". His buddy thought it was a riot and yappy shut up for the time being. His friend was actually great, he asked where I was from and we entered into a friendly convo about life in general. The basics, shared some stories and such. The bartender recommends a $70 glass of wine, so he actually serves me like 5 tastes of different wines. I told him I didn't want anything more than $7-$10, and he recommends a $70 GLASS. Yeah, no pal. So after the pre-game, I order a draft miller light. I ordered an 8oz filet black and blue, with a kona crust, which came out perfectly. The miller light was cold and refreshing. The night ended well with a shot of coffee. After I got back to my room I was lights out!
I woke up and opened my patio door and walked into cool air and fresh smells. Like refreshing, and calming and just what you want when you wake up. Not diesel exhaust, truck noise and or sirens. The complex was split into 3 sections shaped like an L. Each point of the L represents a section and the in-between is more or less paved. I walk from the bottom left of the L to the bottom right to breakfast. The group most noticeable of course is the eastern European couple. I love people watching so as I ready my eggs and bacon I watch out of the corner of my eye. The guy is trying to get stuff for this obvious hot mess of a gf/fiance/wifey of his. He first puts a plate of eggs in front of her. Women complaining/whining is universal and you don't need a translator to tell you that this chick is a whiner. Here's how I imagine this scenario translated......
Girl: Noooooo, the eggs are too runny and the bacon is too crispy. Don't they have any better?
Guy: Let me check babe. You are so cute in the morning!
(Guy returns with plate of waffles and fruit)
Girl: NOOOOooooo the fruit juices are running with the waffles and then they'll get all syrupy and theres no eggs and where's my juice?! Babe! I can't eat like this.....
Guy: Ok babe, tell me what you'd like?
Girl: ughhh.....you should know....
Guy: Ok. How about eggs, on one plate, peaches in a bowl and chewy bacon on another plate?
Girl: don't forget my juice!
Guy: Ok! (as he turns away he rolls his eyes and mutters something like 'holy f***, I shoulda left her in Beirut)
(Guy look absolutely miserable at this point, worn and ragged, like he's been to the Western front and back)
Of course by this point milk has practically come out of my nose as I snicker at the exchange, and try to look on as inconspicuously as possible. Then I think to myself, "what the hell lets stir it up". I'm about 3 bites from being done and catch the girls eye and send her a big ole wink. She blushes and turns away. Maybe it was the half chewed up food in my mouth that she saw? Or the boogies running down my face from all of the hot sauce I doused my eggs in? I think she thought I'd get her food right, so basically I look like a fast food employee from a 3rd world country. hahaha this is how it concludes, translated by me....
Guy delivers armful of separate plates with variety of carefully separated and managed food groups with juice and milk balanced precariously in one hand.
Girl: (whispering like) SIT DOWN, that weird 'Merican over there that's eaten 3 plates of food just WINKED at me! DO SOMETHING! Hissssssss!
Guy: lolz, eat your food and be happy for a change.
Girl and Guy whisper feud ends up getting into what looks like an altercation and buddy ends up wearing the eggs. I politely excuse myself from the table of myself and I.
I laugh and get my stuff ready. It's kind of a process I've got nailed down hard. When I get off of my bike at night I Take my backpack, camel back and tote bag filled with shoes/sandles/electronics into the room with my jacket, gloves, helmet, hat, and Oakleys. The other saddle bag is filled with cleaning products, tools, rain gear and the cover. After getting settled in my room, i go back out and cover the bike. The process takes about 30 min if I'm messing around. When I get up in the morning, I get food first always, then I pack the backpack with folded laundry, zip. Camelbak I refill with bottled water provided by the front desk....3 Liters of it (litres if you are from down under i'm told lol). I lay out my jacket, pack my gloves in my helmet along with my glasses. The totes are filled and everything gets lined up at the door in order of packing. Totes first, Big back, camelbak, jacket and helmet. I make it in 1 trip every time. The cover comes off and gets haphazardly folded once, then unfolded and carefully rolled as tight as possible. Uncle Sam taught me a few things really well, good grease on your boots keep your feet dry, and tightly rolled clothes and stuff make that backpack smaller. So in order to save space I roll that thing up like a tight....roll? Done. Bag goes on the back seat with the back pad facing me to provide me with something to lean against. I put the camelbak on top with the shoulder straps unhooked and draped over the backpack. I use the cargo net to bring the bag tight against the backrest for the "passenger". This also holds the camelbak against the bag well and adds a layer of protection. Then a second cargo net goes over the camelbak and squishes it against the top of the backpack, with the drinking hose unsecured for easy access. Since I'm sweating my ass off already and it's 0845 I put 2 bungees together and thread them through the arms of the jacket and secure it against the bag. Lost of padding to lean against. I make sure the sunscreen is easily accessible in the camelbak pouch and be sure to lather it on heavy. Chemo makes your skin hyper-pigmented i hear. This completes packing. Then I use the $6 bottle of windscreen cleaner i buy from Harley and clean off the windshield and get as much of the bug grime off of the bike as possible. Finally I start the bike, as long as that chrome is clean and glinty, I find myself satisfied with the aesthetics. Thanks to the idiots at the bike shop who put 20W-50 in a Japanese bike, my clutch is on fire within 20 minutes and practically doesn't disengage.
I roll through town and started something new on my trip to Vegas. I grab a liter of water from a gas station and slam it as though my life depends on it. It might. I also buy a gatorade and some sugary snacks, I don't fully understand the side effects of the drugs I force into my body but I know I'm not like normal, and the last thing I want is to black out because of low blood sugar or something haha, but like i said, I don't know anything.
I start rolling and get a text from Matt. Danny's older skinnier, more lady friendly brother. Oh yeah, they both crack my shit up, Matt's more like me in more ways than I realized in Sedona, and find out later which makes me turn into a teary eyed wimp later on....AGAIN. Damnit, I told you this chemo is doing something to me! Or maybe it's my reaction to the love and support I get daily from so many? Nope, gotta suppress that feeling, no room to feel only drive. My route takes me through Denver, where Matt has his beautiful family, or I can avoid the mountains and take the somewhat more conservative route and back through Oklahoma and Missouri.....well, if you claim to know me, why the hell do I want boring? I don't. Lets go.
I woke up and opened my patio door and walked into cool air and fresh smells. Like refreshing, and calming and just what you want when you wake up. Not diesel exhaust, truck noise and or sirens. The complex was split into 3 sections shaped like an L. Each point of the L represents a section and the in-between is more or less paved. I walk from the bottom left of the L to the bottom right to breakfast. The group most noticeable of course is the eastern European couple. I love people watching so as I ready my eggs and bacon I watch out of the corner of my eye. The guy is trying to get stuff for this obvious hot mess of a gf/fiance/wifey of his. He first puts a plate of eggs in front of her. Women complaining/whining is universal and you don't need a translator to tell you that this chick is a whiner. Here's how I imagine this scenario translated......
Girl: Noooooo, the eggs are too runny and the bacon is too crispy. Don't they have any better?
Guy: Let me check babe. You are so cute in the morning!
(Guy returns with plate of waffles and fruit)
Girl: NOOOOooooo the fruit juices are running with the waffles and then they'll get all syrupy and theres no eggs and where's my juice?! Babe! I can't eat like this.....
Guy: Ok babe, tell me what you'd like?
Girl: ughhh.....you should know....
Guy: Ok. How about eggs, on one plate, peaches in a bowl and chewy bacon on another plate?
Girl: don't forget my juice!
Guy: Ok! (as he turns away he rolls his eyes and mutters something like 'holy f***, I shoulda left her in Beirut)
(Guy look absolutely miserable at this point, worn and ragged, like he's been to the Western front and back)
Of course by this point milk has practically come out of my nose as I snicker at the exchange, and try to look on as inconspicuously as possible. Then I think to myself, "what the hell lets stir it up". I'm about 3 bites from being done and catch the girls eye and send her a big ole wink. She blushes and turns away. Maybe it was the half chewed up food in my mouth that she saw? Or the boogies running down my face from all of the hot sauce I doused my eggs in? I think she thought I'd get her food right, so basically I look like a fast food employee from a 3rd world country. hahaha this is how it concludes, translated by me....
Guy delivers armful of separate plates with variety of carefully separated and managed food groups with juice and milk balanced precariously in one hand.
Girl: (whispering like) SIT DOWN, that weird 'Merican over there that's eaten 3 plates of food just WINKED at me! DO SOMETHING! Hissssssss!
Guy: lolz, eat your food and be happy for a change.
Girl and Guy whisper feud ends up getting into what looks like an altercation and buddy ends up wearing the eggs. I politely excuse myself from the table of myself and I.
I laugh and get my stuff ready. It's kind of a process I've got nailed down hard. When I get off of my bike at night I Take my backpack, camel back and tote bag filled with shoes/sandles/electronics into the room with my jacket, gloves, helmet, hat, and Oakleys. The other saddle bag is filled with cleaning products, tools, rain gear and the cover. After getting settled in my room, i go back out and cover the bike. The process takes about 30 min if I'm messing around. When I get up in the morning, I get food first always, then I pack the backpack with folded laundry, zip. Camelbak I refill with bottled water provided by the front desk....3 Liters of it (litres if you are from down under i'm told lol). I lay out my jacket, pack my gloves in my helmet along with my glasses. The totes are filled and everything gets lined up at the door in order of packing. Totes first, Big back, camelbak, jacket and helmet. I make it in 1 trip every time. The cover comes off and gets haphazardly folded once, then unfolded and carefully rolled as tight as possible. Uncle Sam taught me a few things really well, good grease on your boots keep your feet dry, and tightly rolled clothes and stuff make that backpack smaller. So in order to save space I roll that thing up like a tight....roll? Done. Bag goes on the back seat with the back pad facing me to provide me with something to lean against. I put the camelbak on top with the shoulder straps unhooked and draped over the backpack. I use the cargo net to bring the bag tight against the backrest for the "passenger". This also holds the camelbak against the bag well and adds a layer of protection. Then a second cargo net goes over the camelbak and squishes it against the top of the backpack, with the drinking hose unsecured for easy access. Since I'm sweating my ass off already and it's 0845 I put 2 bungees together and thread them through the arms of the jacket and secure it against the bag. Lost of padding to lean against. I make sure the sunscreen is easily accessible in the camelbak pouch and be sure to lather it on heavy. Chemo makes your skin hyper-pigmented i hear. This completes packing. Then I use the $6 bottle of windscreen cleaner i buy from Harley and clean off the windshield and get as much of the bug grime off of the bike as possible. Finally I start the bike, as long as that chrome is clean and glinty, I find myself satisfied with the aesthetics. Thanks to the idiots at the bike shop who put 20W-50 in a Japanese bike, my clutch is on fire within 20 minutes and practically doesn't disengage.
I roll through town and started something new on my trip to Vegas. I grab a liter of water from a gas station and slam it as though my life depends on it. It might. I also buy a gatorade and some sugary snacks, I don't fully understand the side effects of the drugs I force into my body but I know I'm not like normal, and the last thing I want is to black out because of low blood sugar or something haha, but like i said, I don't know anything.
I start rolling and get a text from Matt. Danny's older skinnier, more lady friendly brother. Oh yeah, they both crack my shit up, Matt's more like me in more ways than I realized in Sedona, and find out later which makes me turn into a teary eyed wimp later on....AGAIN. Damnit, I told you this chemo is doing something to me! Or maybe it's my reaction to the love and support I get daily from so many? Nope, gotta suppress that feeling, no room to feel only drive. My route takes me through Denver, where Matt has his beautiful family, or I can avoid the mountains and take the somewhat more conservative route and back through Oklahoma and Missouri.....well, if you claim to know me, why the hell do I want boring? I don't. Lets go.
Friday, June 13, 2014
The Grand Ditch!
Vegas has been a blast! I did nothing, saw nothing, and sweat my ass off! Oh, I'll be back Vegas, don't worry! I went out early in the morning to get my bike ready for the ride off East. The ride east since leaving Tahoe has been somewhat much less emotional. And I mean I'm much less gay for Danny, and more focused on a few places I have left to see before I'm out! There are a couple of locations I'd like to see before finally getting home. One of them is Mother Earths Great Crevace, and a bit south I've heard the trip to Sedona is lots of fun!
So I'm walking to my bike after my legendary cup of triple shot caramel macciato, practically dancing to my own footsteps. I mean, that much caffeine does something unnatural to you. My Pulse was thready and rapid, my palms were sweaty and I was wavering on passing out. Hallmarks of some weird shit. So as I approached the garage I got the sinking feeling that my bike was stolen, and all I'd find would be metal shavings where they drilled out the wheel lock.....and there she was! The revelation did nothing to quell the bone shattering thump-thump in my chest that was bordering on painful, but only served to increase in everything that was bad. So, moving along, I noticed a security guard. He seemed younger old guy status, walked with a limp but smiled when he saw me. Before I could say hello, he hollered out "This yo, Vulcan 1700?!". I laughed and said "nah, she's 1600 but lookit dat azzz!!". It sent the guard into some throes of gut busting laughter. I smiled, mission accomplished. As I approached, his facial expressions became much clearer, he was happy and in awe. Well no shit, this dude is a bona-fide bad ass. He introduced himself before I could, with a firm handshake and eye contact. BAM! Insta-trust. I'm a believer in those 2, anything like a limp wristed handshake and downcast eyes make you seem flimsy at best. And this is an argument I get into with all people of all races, religions, creeds, and sexual preferences. It's almost a unanimous agreement, you are judged on the firmness of the hand and the gaze of eye! Ok? ok. So no shit, there we were, chatting up motorcycles, he was on story after story about his club he was involved with in De-troit. Man, this guy just held me with his stories. They were seemingly made up, but the fine details provided were what made them surreal. He was telling me a story about how himself and about 20 others on cruisers were making a trip from De-troit to South Carolina. Along the way in Michigan they picked up a kid on a rocket (Ducati). He kept up well, so they let him ride near the front of the pack. he elaborated on his style in a way which I wouldn't dare try to duplicate. But the gang was at a rest stop and the kid came out of the bathroom with a worried look in his eye. Some of the men started cracking jokes about guy things, but he just shut them up with "man, I'm peeing blood. It's not right.". So he went to the hospital. They called his mother for him and later received a letter from the mother thanking them and inviting them over for dinner for taking care of her boy. Real nice stuff. The kid was bent over so hard, that he put pressure on his kidney's and ended up straining some things and injured himself by accident. He went on and on about how they rode, what they were up to etc. It was amazing to listen to the man. I was captured by his easy nature and his love of motorcycles. I snapped a picture and eventually we parted ways.
I loaded up the bike eventually and went to the road! The clutch was almost not disengaging, but the fan worked everytime I flicked the switch YAY! I stopped at a Chinese buffet for breakfast, and ate them to the gills with 4 plates of food. They shouldn't have sushi. I ate it all. literally I was told, "no moe Mr." . It was good for a laugh, but not much more. I doused the sushi in soy sauce and that baby turd lookin hot paste. nom nom nom! Once properly fueled, I fed the bike and off we went! Into the wild! I had a mission for the day, make it to the Grand Canyon and enjoy it. So off I went!! It was a great cruise. The desert gave way to the foothills of Arizona elevation, which were dotted in pines and clear blue skies. The mountain passes were a little chilly but a t-shirt sufficed for the most part. Upon entering the national park, I knew I had a little more room on the throttle abuse. So off I went, passing cars, RV's and all sorts of people in Missouri license plates. I ended up with a silver Toyota SUV on my ass the whole way. The road split off a few times, but mostly if you were on the road you were headed to 1 of 7 wonders of the world. It was actually really fun! I switched from Classical music (Mozart) to Krewella's Troll Mix Vol. 12 (local Chicago DJ's that have made it) and gave this guy a run for his money! And that's when I felt the Sushi disagree with my style of driving. From every orifice it wanted to purge, and quite suddenly too. Oh shit. Well, the fun game of passing cars and waiting for the SUV to catch up turned into a game of pass the car before the sushi passes my colon. No longer was it a game....it was a war. I felt I was winning this particular battle when the line came out of nowhere. To get into the park you have to pay $10 and find your parking spot before you can get to the Canyon. Oh lord. through clenched teeth, and pretty much clenched everything I patiently waited 20 min in the line. The SUV rolled up next to me, gave me a quick thumbs up and a blown kiss. That was a chick. A regular Danica Patrick! haha, oooooo boy, laughing is a bad idea. So I make it through, park in the lot next to a bunch of bikes and run/stumble/trip/quickly walk to the nearest potty. Yikes, what are all these people qued up for the bathrooms for?!?!?! Well, enough shit talking, I made it out alive. Unstrapped my CamelBak and started walking, somewhat slower than moments before.
I could make out the color lines in the rock indicating something big and cool was in front of me. I was super excited. I walked out into a kind of clearing and saw the crowd of people. It was like angels were playing the drums and the Undertaker was walking out. That's the kind of excitement! Or watching Urlacher decimate Brett Favre. Just like "holy cow". It's so immense that you cannot properly take it all in. Try as you might on your camera, you cannot perfectly capture it all. It was amazing. The rusty reds, the beige yellows, the depth, the smoke from a far off fire, the tree line across the canyon. All of it was amazing. In this moment, I was all about the phone, snapping pictures, trying to send them and enjoy the view. The problem was that with all of these people they had erected a fence years ago to keep people from tumbling down into the maw of the earth. Although I saw people standing out on a sweet ledge hanging over the edge but with no fence impeding their discovery. I made my way over and started on a small journey down. You see, there is no path here, you kind of had to make your own choices, either follow the beaten path or make your own. I made my own. I slipped between some trees and realized I was about 7 or 8 feet above the ledge. The ledge led out about 15 ft before another drop, so I did what everyone else would have done, I PLF'd it. I vaguely remember gasping as I hit the ground and executed a sloppy PLF that would have gotten me an hour long smoke session back in the day. My knees locked and I flew to the damn edge, gracefully popping up and taking a bow like anyone cared. Haha, yeah it was a blast! 2 more ledges to go...and they were much shorter in length as well as depth. So I followed the beaten path. I made it out to the edge and was just blown away. I'll post a few pics from my phone so that you get the idea. The one thing I was impressed with was the Japanese tourist leaning over the edge posing. Holy smokes, this girl had bigger balls than I've ever had. I remember from my days in High School a kid was doing a similar pose by Starved Rock in Illinois and the tree he was holding gave way and over the edge he went, God rest his soul. I couldn't match that. I still needed to get home. So I took a few over the edge and walked around, admiring the sheer beauty. People see things like this and more than a few times I heard "See? There HAS to be a God.". I won't touch much on religion, but I prefer to think of the science, that this was once sea floor that has become a part of the land due to plate tectonics and a few billion years in the making. But never the less, you get the impression, it's so massive that most of us (like me) simply have a hard time grasping the enormity of it. I wish that I was in the physical shape to hike it, but after eating and drinking a bunch of water, I had to get back to the bike and get on with the trip!
Once strapped in and ready to go, I opened my GPS on my phone and locked in Sedona, a place called Kings Ransom. I memorized the first few major roads and directions then headed off. I stopped a few more times to get pictures and try to hold on to the crazy day, but the sun would set in a few hours, so I needed to push hard. Off I went, winding through mountain towns, forests and the ranches that dotted the land. The sun was getting really low when I made it to the outskirts. The sun was again casting amazing reds and rust colors all over the rocks, but the greens contrasted so well with everything I just couldn't get enough of it all! It was one of those moments that you know you will leave, but you don't want it to end. You try to do everything to keep it from ending, but if you don't get as many angles as you can, you'll lose it forever! So I pressed on, finally arriving at the hotel. I received a free upgrade because they were remodeling 1/3 of their rooms. Now, I get to the Upgrade and the soap in both the sink area and the bathroom/shower come out of wall dispensers. There's a little sticker claiming that this method is saving 1000's of plastic bottles. Why not recycle and save 1000s of bottles? So needless to say, it's kind of annoying. I went out on the town to find a place to type this up, but nothing was open past 8pm. Nothing except a restaurant, so I ate and went back to the room, catching the sun behind a rock for a great picture that I'll cherish forever. Wow, how amazing. The next day I'll have to get as close to Denver as I can. But that ride will be all mountain and not really fun. Rest and free breakfast await! Stay thirsty people! 
So I'm walking to my bike after my legendary cup of triple shot caramel macciato, practically dancing to my own footsteps. I mean, that much caffeine does something unnatural to you. My Pulse was thready and rapid, my palms were sweaty and I was wavering on passing out. Hallmarks of some weird shit. So as I approached the garage I got the sinking feeling that my bike was stolen, and all I'd find would be metal shavings where they drilled out the wheel lock.....and there she was! The revelation did nothing to quell the bone shattering thump-thump in my chest that was bordering on painful, but only served to increase in everything that was bad. So, moving along, I noticed a security guard. He seemed younger old guy status, walked with a limp but smiled when he saw me. Before I could say hello, he hollered out "This yo, Vulcan 1700?!". I laughed and said "nah, she's 1600 but lookit dat azzz!!". It sent the guard into some throes of gut busting laughter. I smiled, mission accomplished. As I approached, his facial expressions became much clearer, he was happy and in awe. Well no shit, this dude is a bona-fide bad ass. He introduced himself before I could, with a firm handshake and eye contact. BAM! Insta-trust. I'm a believer in those 2, anything like a limp wristed handshake and downcast eyes make you seem flimsy at best. And this is an argument I get into with all people of all races, religions, creeds, and sexual preferences. It's almost a unanimous agreement, you are judged on the firmness of the hand and the gaze of eye! Ok? ok. So no shit, there we were, chatting up motorcycles, he was on story after story about his club he was involved with in De-troit. Man, this guy just held me with his stories. They were seemingly made up, but the fine details provided were what made them surreal. He was telling me a story about how himself and about 20 others on cruisers were making a trip from De-troit to South Carolina. Along the way in Michigan they picked up a kid on a rocket (Ducati). He kept up well, so they let him ride near the front of the pack. he elaborated on his style in a way which I wouldn't dare try to duplicate. But the gang was at a rest stop and the kid came out of the bathroom with a worried look in his eye. Some of the men started cracking jokes about guy things, but he just shut them up with "man, I'm peeing blood. It's not right.". So he went to the hospital. They called his mother for him and later received a letter from the mother thanking them and inviting them over for dinner for taking care of her boy. Real nice stuff. The kid was bent over so hard, that he put pressure on his kidney's and ended up straining some things and injured himself by accident. He went on and on about how they rode, what they were up to etc. It was amazing to listen to the man. I was captured by his easy nature and his love of motorcycles. I snapped a picture and eventually we parted ways.
I loaded up the bike eventually and went to the road! The clutch was almost not disengaging, but the fan worked everytime I flicked the switch YAY! I stopped at a Chinese buffet for breakfast, and ate them to the gills with 4 plates of food. They shouldn't have sushi. I ate it all. literally I was told, "no moe Mr." . It was good for a laugh, but not much more. I doused the sushi in soy sauce and that baby turd lookin hot paste. nom nom nom! Once properly fueled, I fed the bike and off we went! Into the wild! I had a mission for the day, make it to the Grand Canyon and enjoy it. So off I went!! It was a great cruise. The desert gave way to the foothills of Arizona elevation, which were dotted in pines and clear blue skies. The mountain passes were a little chilly but a t-shirt sufficed for the most part. Upon entering the national park, I knew I had a little more room on the throttle abuse. So off I went, passing cars, RV's and all sorts of people in Missouri license plates. I ended up with a silver Toyota SUV on my ass the whole way. The road split off a few times, but mostly if you were on the road you were headed to 1 of 7 wonders of the world. It was actually really fun! I switched from Classical music (Mozart) to Krewella's Troll Mix Vol. 12 (local Chicago DJ's that have made it) and gave this guy a run for his money! And that's when I felt the Sushi disagree with my style of driving. From every orifice it wanted to purge, and quite suddenly too. Oh shit. Well, the fun game of passing cars and waiting for the SUV to catch up turned into a game of pass the car before the sushi passes my colon. No longer was it a game....it was a war. I felt I was winning this particular battle when the line came out of nowhere. To get into the park you have to pay $10 and find your parking spot before you can get to the Canyon. Oh lord. through clenched teeth, and pretty much clenched everything I patiently waited 20 min in the line. The SUV rolled up next to me, gave me a quick thumbs up and a blown kiss. That was a chick. A regular Danica Patrick! haha, oooooo boy, laughing is a bad idea. So I make it through, park in the lot next to a bunch of bikes and run/stumble/trip/quickly walk to the nearest potty. Yikes, what are all these people qued up for the bathrooms for?!?!?! Well, enough shit talking, I made it out alive. Unstrapped my CamelBak and started walking, somewhat slower than moments before.
I could make out the color lines in the rock indicating something big and cool was in front of me. I was super excited. I walked out into a kind of clearing and saw the crowd of people. It was like angels were playing the drums and the Undertaker was walking out. That's the kind of excitement! Or watching Urlacher decimate Brett Favre. Just like "holy cow". It's so immense that you cannot properly take it all in. Try as you might on your camera, you cannot perfectly capture it all. It was amazing. The rusty reds, the beige yellows, the depth, the smoke from a far off fire, the tree line across the canyon. All of it was amazing. In this moment, I was all about the phone, snapping pictures, trying to send them and enjoy the view. The problem was that with all of these people they had erected a fence years ago to keep people from tumbling down into the maw of the earth. Although I saw people standing out on a sweet ledge hanging over the edge but with no fence impeding their discovery. I made my way over and started on a small journey down. You see, there is no path here, you kind of had to make your own choices, either follow the beaten path or make your own. I made my own. I slipped between some trees and realized I was about 7 or 8 feet above the ledge. The ledge led out about 15 ft before another drop, so I did what everyone else would have done, I PLF'd it. I vaguely remember gasping as I hit the ground and executed a sloppy PLF that would have gotten me an hour long smoke session back in the day. My knees locked and I flew to the damn edge, gracefully popping up and taking a bow like anyone cared. Haha, yeah it was a blast! 2 more ledges to go...and they were much shorter in length as well as depth. So I followed the beaten path. I made it out to the edge and was just blown away. I'll post a few pics from my phone so that you get the idea. The one thing I was impressed with was the Japanese tourist leaning over the edge posing. Holy smokes, this girl had bigger balls than I've ever had. I remember from my days in High School a kid was doing a similar pose by Starved Rock in Illinois and the tree he was holding gave way and over the edge he went, God rest his soul. I couldn't match that. I still needed to get home. So I took a few over the edge and walked around, admiring the sheer beauty. People see things like this and more than a few times I heard "See? There HAS to be a God.". I won't touch much on religion, but I prefer to think of the science, that this was once sea floor that has become a part of the land due to plate tectonics and a few billion years in the making. But never the less, you get the impression, it's so massive that most of us (like me) simply have a hard time grasping the enormity of it. I wish that I was in the physical shape to hike it, but after eating and drinking a bunch of water, I had to get back to the bike and get on with the trip!
Once strapped in and ready to go, I opened my GPS on my phone and locked in Sedona, a place called Kings Ransom. I memorized the first few major roads and directions then headed off. I stopped a few more times to get pictures and try to hold on to the crazy day, but the sun would set in a few hours, so I needed to push hard. Off I went, winding through mountain towns, forests and the ranches that dotted the land. The sun was getting really low when I made it to the outskirts. The sun was again casting amazing reds and rust colors all over the rocks, but the greens contrasted so well with everything I just couldn't get enough of it all! It was one of those moments that you know you will leave, but you don't want it to end. You try to do everything to keep it from ending, but if you don't get as many angles as you can, you'll lose it forever! So I pressed on, finally arriving at the hotel. I received a free upgrade because they were remodeling 1/3 of their rooms. Now, I get to the Upgrade and the soap in both the sink area and the bathroom/shower come out of wall dispensers. There's a little sticker claiming that this method is saving 1000's of plastic bottles. Why not recycle and save 1000s of bottles? So needless to say, it's kind of annoying. I went out on the town to find a place to type this up, but nothing was open past 8pm. Nothing except a restaurant, so I ate and went back to the room, catching the sun behind a rock for a great picture that I'll cherish forever. Wow, how amazing. The next day I'll have to get as close to Denver as I can. But that ride will be all mountain and not really fun. Rest and free breakfast await! Stay thirsty people!
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Bye-Bye Vegas!
No MGM Pool Party, No parties at all, no craziness. Just Fixing the motorcycle. Shit. The fan stopped working and I took it to the local shop that was open. It was cool enough, dirty enough and messy enough for me to believe that these guys were good ole guys. I couldn't be more wrong. They quoted me "significantly less than $200" and they installed a switch (per my request) and changed the oil. I rolled in the shop at 0900 and didn't leave until 1630. The switch took this guy all day as I tried to help him and keep him going, but he seemed like maybe he was new. When he asked about the oil I said "the bike requires 10W-40 motorcycle oil. So I need that and the switch plz." . I tried to tbe as polite as I could, the work needed to be done. Long story short, I helped the whole time, greasy and bloody fingers (wiring cuts me everytime) and chatted the guy up hoping to keep the price down. Well, when it was all said and done, he loaded my bike up with 20W-50 Diesel oil, and completed the wiring to my liking. He charged $175 for everything which I though was way high. Should have been 30 min wiring job, plus $50 for oil. I got ripped off. But it was done. The oil did nothing but screw me as I find out later, once I spring an oil leak and my clutch starts to burn up........
There is no way to describe the feeling of "DAMNIT!" better than a nail through the foot. So when I got my bike repaired, the turd that fixed the bike put 20W-50 in the case. Why? Even after I told him the bike takes 10W-40 4T (motorcycle oil) because unlike most american V-Twins, this bike uses the same oil for the clutch, gears and upper motor, where the common Harley has actual Clutch Oil. We'll get to the fiasco that ensued later.
I found myself sitting in the hotel bar with a Miller Lite and a $1 bill creeping into the 25c blackjack/video poker. I was also watching the Blackhawks take on the Kings to go to the cup. There were LA fans everywhere, so I just kept my mouth shut and watched whilst playin a little poker. I ended up at one point up $11.75 but that was about to go right back to the house. I threw down a few more beers, unexpectedly folding to the vice that's caused more pain than pleasure in its time. About to start my 4th, the game was tied, the LA fans looked rowdy and I was feeling a little fire for my Hawks. I kept my wits about me, cashed in $5.25 and headed to my room. I couldn't really stay in the bar without getting drunk (not advisable) or putting more money into the slot. The money was to have a good time....but Vegas was last minute and not a place I wanted to really gamble so much as just see!
A few minutes after, I decided on a desert ride and went past the bar. I creep-ed in to check the score and immediately 2 "women" rushed up to me. One was pock marked in her cheeks and had some tell tale signs of teenage acne and weathered face thanks to years upon years of smoking. The other was better looking, but just flabby and intimidating, I suppose how you'd imagine a female hitman that kills with bare hands. Once they reached me they just started grabbing my arms. First thought THREAT. Second thought PROTECT. So as I tried to rip my right arm out of the vice-like grasp of this giant woman person thing, I felt something glance off of my butt. I'm not stupid and twisted, laughing with the women waiting to either black out, or be robbed. But as I finally wrenched out of their grasp I spun right into this 5'6'' greaseball. He was short, meth-skinny, bad teeth, and resembled a goblin from the movie "Lord of the Rings" complete with a balding head and thin wispy hair. He smiled a crooked toothed smile and as I backed away, I simultaneously put my hand over my wallet. Check. Whew. The girls wanted to dance, they insisted I was the "hottest guy, omg, so hot", and the guy was clearly trying to get me to go with them. I've heard stories and seen movies, but I was not prepared for the CIA to offer me a job like this! I mean, I'm honored and all, but I got shit to do, lets be honest here! haha, all kidding aside, I LOL'd and was able to break contact and get outside. Once there I went to my bike and (sweating my ass off already) sat on her realizing that I didn't actually want to ride, I just wanted to rest, but not in a hotel room full of 1970's nostalgia. As I sat there I thought of many things. The existence of God, past GF's that couldn't hang with this guy, my awesome GF that supports every single adventure I go on with her or in this case without, my parents, and my funeral.
Kind of a depressing thought at 28 to think, "how will they talk about me if my body gives up?". But there it was, just floating above me in the parking garage. As I laid back on my bike, with my feet over the backrest, and my fingers interlaced folded across my chest, I thought about times I'd messed up. Regrets came first, I wish I would've been a better role model for my kid sister, should've shown her college is a cool thing and get out and see the world. I should've helped more when I was able to at home, but didn't. I should've said FUCK YOU to the JAG officer, once upon a time. I should've punched the peddler in SF trying to sell weed. I should've worked on legs harder. Simple regrets, some would affect my life for 10+ years, others not a big deal, and some I could turn from regret into encouragement for another. If you can show one person that it is indeed possible to overcome something, perhaps their quality of life becomes just a little bit better. Maybe they share just one more smile. And then you've done better. It's not enough to change yourself when you can, but for that change to somehow impact others in a positive way. And I guarantee you, the smallest thing you do to improve something about yourself will impact someone else in a positive light. Try it. You'll see. But after about an hour I realized something about myself, and I didn't like it at all. Doubt. I was beginning to doubt my ability to fight. I realized that if I was going to sit here and get all emo and dramatic about my life, I was dead-freaking-wrong. I started laughing. More of like 3 or 4 chuckles in a row. And I realized that I was so stupid, thinking that I'm going to lose. It's only cancer, and it's only round 2. haha, I got off my bike and wandered outside and mumbled "it's gonna take more than that. Lots more than that.". Nobody heard me, and I thought maybe some power that be, maybe they heard me. It was more of a challenge to the universe "BRING IT ON!" kind of mumble. So I walked back in under a starry light polluted sky, into the hotel, past the screaming LA fans, past the hookers, past the meth heads and blackjack dealers, past the nice shoe shine guys, and right up into my room. I got a text from my gf. The Hawks. Oh no. Well, it was a helluva run, everyone hates LA teams, and I feel like maybe I need to get out of the city of Sin asap. My gut doesn't feel right in this town, time to move. After a nights rest however ;) . So here we GO! Good night, and good luck. Stay thirsty for life my friends!
There is no way to describe the feeling of "DAMNIT!" better than a nail through the foot. So when I got my bike repaired, the turd that fixed the bike put 20W-50 in the case. Why? Even after I told him the bike takes 10W-40 4T (motorcycle oil) because unlike most american V-Twins, this bike uses the same oil for the clutch, gears and upper motor, where the common Harley has actual Clutch Oil. We'll get to the fiasco that ensued later.
I found myself sitting in the hotel bar with a Miller Lite and a $1 bill creeping into the 25c blackjack/video poker. I was also watching the Blackhawks take on the Kings to go to the cup. There were LA fans everywhere, so I just kept my mouth shut and watched whilst playin a little poker. I ended up at one point up $11.75 but that was about to go right back to the house. I threw down a few more beers, unexpectedly folding to the vice that's caused more pain than pleasure in its time. About to start my 4th, the game was tied, the LA fans looked rowdy and I was feeling a little fire for my Hawks. I kept my wits about me, cashed in $5.25 and headed to my room. I couldn't really stay in the bar without getting drunk (not advisable) or putting more money into the slot. The money was to have a good time....but Vegas was last minute and not a place I wanted to really gamble so much as just see!
A few minutes after, I decided on a desert ride and went past the bar. I creep-ed in to check the score and immediately 2 "women" rushed up to me. One was pock marked in her cheeks and had some tell tale signs of teenage acne and weathered face thanks to years upon years of smoking. The other was better looking, but just flabby and intimidating, I suppose how you'd imagine a female hitman that kills with bare hands. Once they reached me they just started grabbing my arms. First thought THREAT. Second thought PROTECT. So as I tried to rip my right arm out of the vice-like grasp of this giant woman person thing, I felt something glance off of my butt. I'm not stupid and twisted, laughing with the women waiting to either black out, or be robbed. But as I finally wrenched out of their grasp I spun right into this 5'6'' greaseball. He was short, meth-skinny, bad teeth, and resembled a goblin from the movie "Lord of the Rings" complete with a balding head and thin wispy hair. He smiled a crooked toothed smile and as I backed away, I simultaneously put my hand over my wallet. Check. Whew. The girls wanted to dance, they insisted I was the "hottest guy, omg, so hot", and the guy was clearly trying to get me to go with them. I've heard stories and seen movies, but I was not prepared for the CIA to offer me a job like this! I mean, I'm honored and all, but I got shit to do, lets be honest here! haha, all kidding aside, I LOL'd and was able to break contact and get outside. Once there I went to my bike and (sweating my ass off already) sat on her realizing that I didn't actually want to ride, I just wanted to rest, but not in a hotel room full of 1970's nostalgia. As I sat there I thought of many things. The existence of God, past GF's that couldn't hang with this guy, my awesome GF that supports every single adventure I go on with her or in this case without, my parents, and my funeral.
Kind of a depressing thought at 28 to think, "how will they talk about me if my body gives up?". But there it was, just floating above me in the parking garage. As I laid back on my bike, with my feet over the backrest, and my fingers interlaced folded across my chest, I thought about times I'd messed up. Regrets came first, I wish I would've been a better role model for my kid sister, should've shown her college is a cool thing and get out and see the world. I should've helped more when I was able to at home, but didn't. I should've said FUCK YOU to the JAG officer, once upon a time. I should've punched the peddler in SF trying to sell weed. I should've worked on legs harder. Simple regrets, some would affect my life for 10+ years, others not a big deal, and some I could turn from regret into encouragement for another. If you can show one person that it is indeed possible to overcome something, perhaps their quality of life becomes just a little bit better. Maybe they share just one more smile. And then you've done better. It's not enough to change yourself when you can, but for that change to somehow impact others in a positive way. And I guarantee you, the smallest thing you do to improve something about yourself will impact someone else in a positive light. Try it. You'll see. But after about an hour I realized something about myself, and I didn't like it at all. Doubt. I was beginning to doubt my ability to fight. I realized that if I was going to sit here and get all emo and dramatic about my life, I was dead-freaking-wrong. I started laughing. More of like 3 or 4 chuckles in a row. And I realized that I was so stupid, thinking that I'm going to lose. It's only cancer, and it's only round 2. haha, I got off my bike and wandered outside and mumbled "it's gonna take more than that. Lots more than that.". Nobody heard me, and I thought maybe some power that be, maybe they heard me. It was more of a challenge to the universe "BRING IT ON!" kind of mumble. So I walked back in under a starry light polluted sky, into the hotel, past the screaming LA fans, past the hookers, past the meth heads and blackjack dealers, past the nice shoe shine guys, and right up into my room. I got a text from my gf. The Hawks. Oh no. Well, it was a helluva run, everyone hates LA teams, and I feel like maybe I need to get out of the city of Sin asap. My gut doesn't feel right in this town, time to move. After a nights rest however ;) . So here we GO! Good night, and good luck. Stay thirsty for life my friends!
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Vegas
After I made the decision to ride out, I pulled over to take a lot of pictures. I reevaluated the decision, do I really need to do this, how are people going to feel about me going to Vegas. Well, I can get cheap lodging and I'm not into gambling, so this is more of a look and see, than "experience". I get down to the essentials, it has a nasty stigma attached to it, and 6 or 7 years ago I would've been caught doing bad things with bad people I'm willing to bet, but I don't want to throw money around and I care more about my health than ever before. This could be great. Plus, I want to experience it with my lady more than by myself.
I set off, polypro leggings on, and everything that beats 51 degree weather. It's now 90 in the desert in Nevada and the next gas station is somewhere around 75 miles away. I"m good on gas, but I pull over in an abandoned complex that looks sketchy at best. I quickly shed my jacket and hoodie, and start work on my leggings. That's when I'm literally caught with my pants down. About 7 dudes on harleys and choppers pull up around me. I can't help but think "threat" before "dude, pull up your pants.". When I finally do, 3 of the guys are approaching me. They wanted to know if I needed any help, or water, or sunblock. WHAT?! Yeah, 99% of the help that's been offered to me has been from fellow bikers, pulling off with a sort of "noone left behind" mentality. They help me with a little coolant and a good way to tie down the jacket i've just shed. I lather on a good helping of SPF 60 and hit the road once more. I don't really stop again or care to, until I hit this Army Depot. It looks like a munitions town, with a few factories and ammo storage bunkers as far as the eye can see. I grab some McDonalds and listen to the millennial kids go on and on about how totally redic it is that mom won't let them drink at 16. I mean, if you can drive a car, you should be able to get totally smashed if you want right? Ugh, f*** that noise, I'm just going to move out so I can do whatever I want. Literally, every kid seems to go through that phase, but I cracked more than a few smiles when hearing that conversation. And upon departure, I threw on an oldie but a goodie "Baby Got Back" and sing along. Oh, but first as I walked out, there was an older methy looking couple checking out Juicy. The older guy asked how big, and if I'd ever gotten it to 140 mph. I answered both. He seemed impressed. The lady said to me "It's not a Harley though. If it's not a Harley so...." she lingered on the last word, either thinking about what to say next or the shiny chrome caught her off guard and her ADD kicked in. Totally happens to me, so i get it. But I quickly retorted with "Yeah, so it'll last longer.". Ms Methy didn't like that, she spit on the ground and said "Well if it's not a Harley I don't want it.". I take offense to Juicy being made fun of, especially when it comes to her origin. I was a bit of a smart ass, but whoops! I couldn't help myself. I said back "Don't worry lady, she's not for sale, and besides, she's too much for you to handle.". He mouth literally hung open and I really wanted to do the whole take a step and make a tackling motion and yell "what!" repeatedly. But held back, and continued getting ready for the ride.
Well, on the road again, the tires were getting super hot and the desert was getting windy. The wind picked up so bad that I had to really take it easy and take my time. Once I got to Area 51 I took a lot of pictures, but the sun was getting low so I moved out a lot faster than I had planned. Once on the outskirts of Vegas I made my way to the hotel. It's the wannabe space needle. It's super cheap so I didn't complain too much, and did a little cruising around Vegas. The lights are freaking AMAZING! Totally unreal! People everywhere, fat and skinny and ugly and pretty. Awesome. The bike overheats again and again, and I keep shutting down to save the damn engine from blowing up on me. I'm just blown away by the stuff to do and the people around. It's just a crazy sight to see. I see how people come here on a whim and spend so much.
I pulled into my hotel's valet lane and talk to the Valet guy and he lets me know about the motobike parking situation. He lets me get my bags and stuff to my room before I have to park. Super great. I get to my room and it's not what I asked for or booked, but it's SOOO cheap ($65/night) and I get a bunch of stuff included. I contemplate going to the 107th floor and experiencing the night life, but I'm not here for that, so instead I grab a coffee and walk around the casino. It's definitely NOT like the movies, but it's cool enough. I hit the gift shop and grab some grub then head back to my room to chat with dad. It's agreed that the bike needs to get fixed and there's nothing more important than safely making it home. I rack out quickly, thinking about the cool pool's I can visit for wicked cheap.
In the morning, I roll out of bed early an start planning my departure on Monday. It's only about 750 miles to Denver, so maybe I'll get lucky and stop there to visit my other brother, but they just hosted people all weekend, I'm sure I'm the last person they want to accommodate. But I'll get that stuff sorted. I found a bike shop that will help me out and make my problems go away. In the meantime, I'll watch people gamble away everything, young college people act a fool and might find myself fist pumping at a pool on top of the MGM Grand. Today's a GTL kinda day. Stay thirsty my friends.
I set off, polypro leggings on, and everything that beats 51 degree weather. It's now 90 in the desert in Nevada and the next gas station is somewhere around 75 miles away. I"m good on gas, but I pull over in an abandoned complex that looks sketchy at best. I quickly shed my jacket and hoodie, and start work on my leggings. That's when I'm literally caught with my pants down. About 7 dudes on harleys and choppers pull up around me. I can't help but think "threat" before "dude, pull up your pants.". When I finally do, 3 of the guys are approaching me. They wanted to know if I needed any help, or water, or sunblock. WHAT?! Yeah, 99% of the help that's been offered to me has been from fellow bikers, pulling off with a sort of "noone left behind" mentality. They help me with a little coolant and a good way to tie down the jacket i've just shed. I lather on a good helping of SPF 60 and hit the road once more. I don't really stop again or care to, until I hit this Army Depot. It looks like a munitions town, with a few factories and ammo storage bunkers as far as the eye can see. I grab some McDonalds and listen to the millennial kids go on and on about how totally redic it is that mom won't let them drink at 16. I mean, if you can drive a car, you should be able to get totally smashed if you want right? Ugh, f*** that noise, I'm just going to move out so I can do whatever I want. Literally, every kid seems to go through that phase, but I cracked more than a few smiles when hearing that conversation. And upon departure, I threw on an oldie but a goodie "Baby Got Back" and sing along. Oh, but first as I walked out, there was an older methy looking couple checking out Juicy. The older guy asked how big, and if I'd ever gotten it to 140 mph. I answered both. He seemed impressed. The lady said to me "It's not a Harley though. If it's not a Harley so...." she lingered on the last word, either thinking about what to say next or the shiny chrome caught her off guard and her ADD kicked in. Totally happens to me, so i get it. But I quickly retorted with "Yeah, so it'll last longer.". Ms Methy didn't like that, she spit on the ground and said "Well if it's not a Harley I don't want it.". I take offense to Juicy being made fun of, especially when it comes to her origin. I was a bit of a smart ass, but whoops! I couldn't help myself. I said back "Don't worry lady, she's not for sale, and besides, she's too much for you to handle.". He mouth literally hung open and I really wanted to do the whole take a step and make a tackling motion and yell "what!" repeatedly. But held back, and continued getting ready for the ride.
Well, on the road again, the tires were getting super hot and the desert was getting windy. The wind picked up so bad that I had to really take it easy and take my time. Once I got to Area 51 I took a lot of pictures, but the sun was getting low so I moved out a lot faster than I had planned. Once on the outskirts of Vegas I made my way to the hotel. It's the wannabe space needle. It's super cheap so I didn't complain too much, and did a little cruising around Vegas. The lights are freaking AMAZING! Totally unreal! People everywhere, fat and skinny and ugly and pretty. Awesome. The bike overheats again and again, and I keep shutting down to save the damn engine from blowing up on me. I'm just blown away by the stuff to do and the people around. It's just a crazy sight to see. I see how people come here on a whim and spend so much.
I pulled into my hotel's valet lane and talk to the Valet guy and he lets me know about the motobike parking situation. He lets me get my bags and stuff to my room before I have to park. Super great. I get to my room and it's not what I asked for or booked, but it's SOOO cheap ($65/night) and I get a bunch of stuff included. I contemplate going to the 107th floor and experiencing the night life, but I'm not here for that, so instead I grab a coffee and walk around the casino. It's definitely NOT like the movies, but it's cool enough. I hit the gift shop and grab some grub then head back to my room to chat with dad. It's agreed that the bike needs to get fixed and there's nothing more important than safely making it home. I rack out quickly, thinking about the cool pool's I can visit for wicked cheap.
In the morning, I roll out of bed early an start planning my departure on Monday. It's only about 750 miles to Denver, so maybe I'll get lucky and stop there to visit my other brother, but they just hosted people all weekend, I'm sure I'm the last person they want to accommodate. But I'll get that stuff sorted. I found a bike shop that will help me out and make my problems go away. In the meantime, I'll watch people gamble away everything, young college people act a fool and might find myself fist pumping at a pool on top of the MGM Grand. Today's a GTL kinda day. Stay thirsty my friends.
Exedous and Tahoe...with a lil fun
I'd say I'm not a softie. I don't fear pain, I don't stop until I achieve my goal(s), I don't let idiots rule me. My GF would say I tear up at commercials, every sappy moment on TV and I'm about as hard as a bowl of jelly. But you know, it's all about how you perceive yourself right? haha, anyhow the whole point of that was for this: Leaving California. This has been hands down the most difficult thing I've ever done. Danny is a brother to me, so imagine you get to see your bro only so often, and you hold him in super high esteem, and just about as soon as you're used to seeing and enjoying their company you have to get back to the real world and travel 2k miles home to treatments that leave you hanging by a thread for days and the coming bone marrow transplant that will leave you like a recovering sack of puke for close to a year. There are amazing things I get to get back to as well, the familiarity of my favorite gym, my darling GF whose eyes will be like Niagara Falls, riding around the city, CASTAWAYS!!! but leaving Cali has never been easy. I wish like so many other vacations, that it could be permanent.
So I'm riding away and I'm heading to Yosemite to take in some sights, when I'm all like, "Nah, I'm goin to Tahoe!". So I did an about-face and tore up to get rerouted. Google Maps was busy catching up when I realized I would go right by Danny's again. I almost lost it. All the emotions welled up like a geyser at Yellowstone, but unlike those geysers I kept it down. It was tough and by no means fun, but stuffed 'em. I had to get on a different expressway (680 from the 880) and the quickest way was to exit and hop over a bridge and get on the other way. The problem was that it was rush hour and the only way to get on was a left turn that was backed up through 2 intersections. So I sat in traffic. I didn't lane split and tried my best to just sit tight, nice right? WRONG! The red warning light for overheating buzzed to life and let me know just how it felt about traffic. I uttered some words unknown to most Catholic priests, and ran a red, swerved around a bus and dodged traffic on my way to the expressway. The light went off as I made it under a bridge that shielded the bike from the sun. I turned her off and put her on her kickstand. I had plenty of time to dwell on the implications, so I called my gf to chat, we talked about nothing but it was just good to hear her sweet voice. But after awhile I realized she was getting things in order for her brothers 30th b-day (which i missed thanks to the tires for my bike being late and holding me back) so I let her go. I'm super lucky to have such a thoughtful girl, I'll have to figure out something to get her. So after the bike was on, no light!
I'm cruising, switching between splitting lanes and being a part of traffic. Splitting lanes on occasion makes me wicked stressed, I keep thinking I'm getting pulled over and going to jail. Anyhow, the red light comes on again but this time I'm able to immediately pull over. As I do, I feel a dampness on my butt and lower back. 'Shit. I've been shot. I shouldn't be cutting these people off. Yeah, that or I just sat on the nozzle of my CamelBak and it's spewed 3L of water all over me....ya glittery drama queen.' - Thoughts from my brain. I open the side cover and see the coolant is there, bubbling and flowing right out. Great. Call dad. Well, it's as if the water's coming and Noah didn't finish the ark. BIG. DEAL. No, really, it is a big deal, but Danny left for Denver and while he would've let me break into his house while they figured out my bike at the dealership, I just couldn't stay another day. Not very logical, but I felt I've overstayed by a lot at this point. Anyhow, I agree with pop that somethings wrong, but I let the bike cool and take her down the road, this time I'm keeping about 20mph above traffic and there's a lot of bikers lane splitting. Most drivers get out of the way and it's pretty great. I get through the traffic in about an hour jamming to Krewella the whole time. Once I'm through traffic I get into cruise mode. No red light.
Eventually I pull over at a rest stop to relax and take care of my bodily functions. I let my dad know the bike's running well and he shouldn't be concerned. Danny texts me about Tahoe and about a town I should stop in. He goes on and on about how beautiful it is. So I set my destination up and head back out on the road. I have to say this about the drive into Tahoe, beautiful. The gently winding roads go through elegant forests and cool air turns frigid the further you go. While the sun sets behind mountains and dense forest, the temperature plummets. That's right red light, see ya! Soon after my fingers go numb, I realize it's probably a good time to get off the road. I find the town I was looking for and head into a pizza shop to warm up and find a hotel. I get a hot tea and a 10" deep dish pizza. Live and learn right? Nobody does pizza like Chicago. The worst pie you get in Chicago, beats the daylights out of this garbage that I'm currently in a love affair with. Contradictory? Well here's the thing, when your body is depleted of the big 3, you get them any way you can. So my body loved the nourishment, but my inner soul was watching in horror as I 'enjoyed' the terrible deep dish pie. I found lodging about 3 miles away, which sounds great but after finally getting warm, going outside wasn't the first thing I wanted to do. Well, I did, and got there in once piece. I missed the turn a few times and the desk lady was super nice. Gave me a discount and was too genuinely nice, it was like overload. I kept the bike under the awning and hit the sack.
The next morning I woke up and thought to myself, "Such a beautiful place, maybe I'll stay...". Then I whipped open the curtains to expose a giant wall. Nope, that discount was purely based on the fact that I was staying in the shitty room. After conversations with my lovely gf I went and stuffed my face with the buffet fare and hit the road. At some point I left my coveted white UA hat, and I'm so pissed about that. But oh well. I grab the long underwear because it's like 51 F out and I'm not in the mood to freeze. I hit the road. On the way out I have an awesome conversation with a dude from Mass. and he's in Tahoe for business.....noted. Reevaluate career decision making when home. Filed in the 'to do' folder. Once on the road, I take in the breath taking views.
I was going through the windy descents and crossing all sorts of lanes and getting honked at by the semi's. Well, these views were un-freaking-real. There weren't any places to pull off and I was just beside myself trying to ride, look and control myself. Difficult things to do you know! I finally found a pull off and got a nice panoramic pic for the kids. On I go! My mind kept coming back to how soon I'd be back and I'd get the chance to share some of this with kids. Thinking of keeping this charity idea going and ballooning it into something more and all encompassing among the fact that there's nothing in Chicago like this, well it kept me busy. How in the blue sky do I give those kids these awesome feelings I've got while traveling through this wonderland? Some of those kids will never get to see this, and I think that's redoubled my efforts to explore, and play into the next trip decision. At this point in my journey, I'm going on I-80 East to home, passing through Utah, Wyoming, etc. Beautiful countrysides and wonderful people. But what about the prepubescent teens going through this? I think to myself, if I was 15, potentially facing something terminal besides the "Make a Wish" thing, what would I want. The answer was simple. Vegas.
So I'm riding away and I'm heading to Yosemite to take in some sights, when I'm all like, "Nah, I'm goin to Tahoe!". So I did an about-face and tore up to get rerouted. Google Maps was busy catching up when I realized I would go right by Danny's again. I almost lost it. All the emotions welled up like a geyser at Yellowstone, but unlike those geysers I kept it down. It was tough and by no means fun, but stuffed 'em. I had to get on a different expressway (680 from the 880) and the quickest way was to exit and hop over a bridge and get on the other way. The problem was that it was rush hour and the only way to get on was a left turn that was backed up through 2 intersections. So I sat in traffic. I didn't lane split and tried my best to just sit tight, nice right? WRONG! The red warning light for overheating buzzed to life and let me know just how it felt about traffic. I uttered some words unknown to most Catholic priests, and ran a red, swerved around a bus and dodged traffic on my way to the expressway. The light went off as I made it under a bridge that shielded the bike from the sun. I turned her off and put her on her kickstand. I had plenty of time to dwell on the implications, so I called my gf to chat, we talked about nothing but it was just good to hear her sweet voice. But after awhile I realized she was getting things in order for her brothers 30th b-day (which i missed thanks to the tires for my bike being late and holding me back) so I let her go. I'm super lucky to have such a thoughtful girl, I'll have to figure out something to get her. So after the bike was on, no light!
I'm cruising, switching between splitting lanes and being a part of traffic. Splitting lanes on occasion makes me wicked stressed, I keep thinking I'm getting pulled over and going to jail. Anyhow, the red light comes on again but this time I'm able to immediately pull over. As I do, I feel a dampness on my butt and lower back. 'Shit. I've been shot. I shouldn't be cutting these people off. Yeah, that or I just sat on the nozzle of my CamelBak and it's spewed 3L of water all over me....ya glittery drama queen.' - Thoughts from my brain. I open the side cover and see the coolant is there, bubbling and flowing right out. Great. Call dad. Well, it's as if the water's coming and Noah didn't finish the ark. BIG. DEAL. No, really, it is a big deal, but Danny left for Denver and while he would've let me break into his house while they figured out my bike at the dealership, I just couldn't stay another day. Not very logical, but I felt I've overstayed by a lot at this point. Anyhow, I agree with pop that somethings wrong, but I let the bike cool and take her down the road, this time I'm keeping about 20mph above traffic and there's a lot of bikers lane splitting. Most drivers get out of the way and it's pretty great. I get through the traffic in about an hour jamming to Krewella the whole time. Once I'm through traffic I get into cruise mode. No red light.
Eventually I pull over at a rest stop to relax and take care of my bodily functions. I let my dad know the bike's running well and he shouldn't be concerned. Danny texts me about Tahoe and about a town I should stop in. He goes on and on about how beautiful it is. So I set my destination up and head back out on the road. I have to say this about the drive into Tahoe, beautiful. The gently winding roads go through elegant forests and cool air turns frigid the further you go. While the sun sets behind mountains and dense forest, the temperature plummets. That's right red light, see ya! Soon after my fingers go numb, I realize it's probably a good time to get off the road. I find the town I was looking for and head into a pizza shop to warm up and find a hotel. I get a hot tea and a 10" deep dish pizza. Live and learn right? Nobody does pizza like Chicago. The worst pie you get in Chicago, beats the daylights out of this garbage that I'm currently in a love affair with. Contradictory? Well here's the thing, when your body is depleted of the big 3, you get them any way you can. So my body loved the nourishment, but my inner soul was watching in horror as I 'enjoyed' the terrible deep dish pie. I found lodging about 3 miles away, which sounds great but after finally getting warm, going outside wasn't the first thing I wanted to do. Well, I did, and got there in once piece. I missed the turn a few times and the desk lady was super nice. Gave me a discount and was too genuinely nice, it was like overload. I kept the bike under the awning and hit the sack.
The next morning I woke up and thought to myself, "Such a beautiful place, maybe I'll stay...". Then I whipped open the curtains to expose a giant wall. Nope, that discount was purely based on the fact that I was staying in the shitty room. After conversations with my lovely gf I went and stuffed my face with the buffet fare and hit the road. At some point I left my coveted white UA hat, and I'm so pissed about that. But oh well. I grab the long underwear because it's like 51 F out and I'm not in the mood to freeze. I hit the road. On the way out I have an awesome conversation with a dude from Mass. and he's in Tahoe for business.....noted. Reevaluate career decision making when home. Filed in the 'to do' folder. Once on the road, I take in the breath taking views.
I was going through the windy descents and crossing all sorts of lanes and getting honked at by the semi's. Well, these views were un-freaking-real. There weren't any places to pull off and I was just beside myself trying to ride, look and control myself. Difficult things to do you know! I finally found a pull off and got a nice panoramic pic for the kids. On I go! My mind kept coming back to how soon I'd be back and I'd get the chance to share some of this with kids. Thinking of keeping this charity idea going and ballooning it into something more and all encompassing among the fact that there's nothing in Chicago like this, well it kept me busy. How in the blue sky do I give those kids these awesome feelings I've got while traveling through this wonderland? Some of those kids will never get to see this, and I think that's redoubled my efforts to explore, and play into the next trip decision. At this point in my journey, I'm going on I-80 East to home, passing through Utah, Wyoming, etc. Beautiful countrysides and wonderful people. But what about the prepubescent teens going through this? I think to myself, if I was 15, potentially facing something terminal besides the "Make a Wish" thing, what would I want. The answer was simple. Vegas.
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