Knowing today will be warmer, I put on shorts and a t-shirt under my bike pants and jacket. The guys debug their windshields, and then I climb through our motel window to pass them our bags. I collect our cash safety deposit and get on the back of our bike, now that Ed feels confident that Caleb can handle the bike alone. Breakfast will be had at a casino with a lake view. There’s a lot more wind on this bike due to its build and the make of the driver. There’s also more space for my cheeks, so I can last longer before I start to squirm around, unable to be in any other position.
Highway 395 never disappoints, delivering another beautiful ride. We stop at Erick Schat’s Bakkerÿ, as we always do, and after grub, we get gas, and then Ed gets gloves to add to his collection. When we stopped in Inyokern, I put on jeans as a compromise because those padded pants were making me very sweaty. Motorcycles were made for riding in a certain temperature range. Though most riders might prefer 50°-85°F, I think 45°-75° is ideal to avoid the risks of wind chill and heat exhaustion, especially if stuck in traffic while sitting on a hot bike.
We get to Barstow at 430pm, and my glutes and spine are ready for a break. Ed’s bike comes with armrests with snack cubby holes. Our new bike comes with sitting upright at all times to control wind flow and bike balance, while not falling off the side and causing a scene. It doesn’t help that my baby maker is angry with me (a reference to my anatomy, not my husband). We celebrate the end of another successful day with some bellywash, vittles, and a splash-and-dash each. We’ll join Ed in some evening entertainment of watching a boat rebuild, an engine teardown, and a guy shooting meat targets that have oranges for lungs.
We sleep in and are on the road in a foggy 52°F this morning, which is better with all this gear on than the 82°F yesterday afternoon. We stop for brunch at Oak Tree NW in Ashland, OR, before getting on the smaller and windier roads that will take us through parts of southern Oregon, the eastern side of northern California, and into a corner of Nevada. We stop in Merrill, and I take off my hoodie and coat liner and open my jacket and pant vents. When we stop in Alturas around 3pm, I’ll take my pants off from under my padded pair at the gas pump.
I told Caleb we need to water down our drinks as we’re all dehydrated. I’m not used to spending this much time just sitting in the sun, but at least I’m not getting burned. The views we pass are amazing, and I understand that’s the point of being on a bike and appreciating the slower travel than being on the highway, but if it were up to me, I would double our travel time (or get a better motion camera) so that I could stop and take in the silence, and the noises, that only come once you escape the chaos that is the civilized city.
Our road snacks are usually healthier, either durable so we have energy, or sunflower seeds so we get salt and can have snack time without filling up (or out). I can’t seem to stay away from candy, even though Aunt Lorraine gave us a month’s supply of granola bars that aren’t too messy, as I do all my snacking in the wind. It’s amazing the difference standing makes after sitting for so long, but also being able to take the helmet off and remove the pressure from the liner and my forehead. We get to our room in Carson City at sunset and walk to dinner.
Caleb gets up before 5am, as is his habit, and that wakes Ed up, who turns on all the lights. The guys repack the bags, and I will get a snack and some coffee while they look at bike stuff. Caleb and I walk to Circle K to get some drinks for the road. (More places should have refillable water bottle stations.) I mention the bird of paradise tattoo on Teresa’s chest and learn that our cashier just spent the last year near Glacier National Park with her wife and two dogs that are over 100 pounds each. After this year, she wants to go to Vegas, but her wife wants to move to Canada.
I was ready to eat an hour ago, as always seems to be the case, but the guys aren’t in a rush. They prefer to load the bikes with bags that we can’t leave unattended, vs going to breakfast and returning to the room to worry about it. While I wait, I think about how I should’ve grabbed a protein drink and a sandwich from the gas station. We return north to Wecoma Beach for breakfast at Pig N’ Pancake, and on our next potty break, the guys use the outside while I get the bathroom key. I thought they weren’t in a hurry, but I’ve seen some public restrooms in my day, and people can be nasty.
Instead of continuing south, we will detour inland through the Van Duzer Forest State Scenic Corridor to Timber Town Harley in Salem because Ed’s bike needs a water pump (or his engine could fail). It’s here that we find out we’ve got to go to their Paradise shop near Portland, which is another 45 minutes north, to get the necessary parts or spend a day or two here waiting for it to arrive. An estimated 2-3 hour job turns into four upon arrival, but it will be a seven-hour fix. I’m upset that we’ll lose our $100+ room reservation in Arcata, while Ed is more concerned with the $120/hour labor fees (rightfully so).
Caleb and I walk to 7-Eleven for drinks. I try the Puddle Jumper (notes of chocolate, vanilla, and lemon) coffee and quickly exchange it for a mocha that doesn’t taste as bad to go with our king-size Snickers for lunch. Upon return, we move from the sun-covered bench (still need our vitamin D) to a cooler seat inside. We get to watch a fire extinguisher be used on a car engine, and then stare at a motorcycle as it gets rinsed and blow-dried. I should’ve taken pictures of our afternoon entertainment, but we kept hoping the most recent half hour would be our last.
We were all itching to get back on the road, so Caleb and I went for another walk, and he reminded me of the trip I took where I was being followed by a creeper (in Kentucky or Tennessee) until he realized I was going to the police station (thank you, TomTom GPS). We’ll ride at 65mph (the fastest yet) all the way to Roseburg so that we’re only four hours away from our planned stop. We should’ve brought books, but none of us planned on a day like this. We check-in and Ed’s age qualifies us for a discount. I don’t know whose birthday it was, but I enjoyed a piece of their cake before going to bed later than yesterday.
Caleb gets up at 5am because he hears Ed moving around. We had agreed last night to take an early ferry and bypass Seattle and start south on Hwy 101. Caleb comes back in fifteen minutes later, turns on the light, and then leaves me in the dark. When he comes back and grabs everything, but my shirt, I figure it’s time to get up and partake in the guys’ excitement by standing around sleepily. Ed hands me a pair of chaps, thinking they’re Lorraine’s (that I’m buying), and we both have a laugh when we realize they’re his.
The guys have the bags strapped (so nothing flies out or off), we’re wearing all the safety gear, and the windshield towels are put near the handlebars for wiping bugs or a wet seat. We leave the house, after saying bye to Lorraine, and get to the first light where we get separated. Caleb stopped because he said his glasses were fogging up. The guys can talk through their headsets, but all I see are the missed calls on both phones, and I try to connect my speaker three times with no luck. I turn it off until we can deal with it later, and so that we have less to charge tonight.
While we’re waiting at Keystone Ferry Landing, I’ll have a granola bar, which improves my demeanor. Being on the water always helps, too. I take the warming liner out of the heavy pants as the day starts to warm. We park the bikes in front of the Chimacum (a Native American tribe) Cafe, and put the jackets in the booth next to me. I’ll order the meal that comes with cottage cheese and tomato, as it reminds me of breakfast with Dad and Caroline at the Wagon Wheel in Cave Creek, AZ.
Astoria-Megler Bridge
We stop in Montesano for gas and candy, and my pants liner is lost out of an open saddle bag about ten miles from the Oregon border. We sit in traffic in Astoria, and our planned stops, still over one and a half hours away, might be taken off the itinerary (that I can’t find). Caleb gets to pump gas in Tillamook (because of Covid) and drops his bike. Caleb realizes how tired he is and how exhausting it can be to keep a 700+ pound bike upright for a full day’s driving, and we’re not done yet. He’ll drop it again when we get to the Air Museum.
Ed will stay outside the hangar and keep an eye on the bikes since he’s already been inside, which held more than I was expecting. We saw the familiar patches, war paraphernalia (postcards, base passes, and shower shoes turned into a letter), and cockpits you can sit in. There is an exhibit of model boats and small planes, a wall of full-size tractors, and a room of single and two-seater planes. As with any WWII history, there are stories of the Holocaust, these from children who changed their names, religions, and addresses in an attempt to avoid the extermination camps. Well, that’s depressing.
The museum continues outside with an aircraft that was modified from a Boeing 377 Stratocruiser that was given to Pan-Am Airways and renamed the Mini-Guppy. The airlines went under in 1991 after a bombing over Scotland in 1988 took 270 lives, and then the Persian Gulf War forced them into bankruptcy. There’s a photo of pieces of a blimp being loaded inside the Mini-Guppy in 1972. It’s large enough to haul wrecked aircraft and was used to transport helicopters for firefighting efforts, and was retired in 1995. It was featured in the film “Universal Soldier!” and had the Dandy Warhols use it as a concert stage.
Ed helps a guy put air in his motorcycle tire so he can continue towards Santa Monica. Our destination for the evening will be Lincoln City. We lug all the bags to the room because they seem heavier after a long day in the saddle. We walk to Figaro’s Pizza to pick up food and to Safeway for drinks. I’m starving, of course, so I’ll eat what I can while they shower. I’m ready for bed before the guys, which isn’t usually the case, but they are wired from their first ride across state lines.
My ass is sore from being stuck in a single position for ninety percent of the day. My brain case is aching from having an extra-small helmet shoved on my large noggin, but I’m not going to buy a new helmet just yet. I close my eyes and think about the noise, brightness, and warmth keeping me from sleep. I debate napping on the bike or attempting to go to bed earlier tomorrow, but I can be tired for a few days as I’m not driving.
September is a busy month for us. We just got back to Imperial Beach from our trip to Guam (business and pleasure), we’re getting things in order, to move the furthest from a military base (we’re not in a roommate age), ever, and then we’re taking our first motorcycle road trip with Uncle Ed as a way to acquire his Softail Cross Bones that he doesn’t want to ride anymore. We try the new Pizza Port location and watch the sunset.
Lakeside Imperial Beach
still moving in
We sign the lease for Lakeside, and I pay the deposit, change our address, set up electric, upload proof of insurance, schedule movers, and take a load of boxes to the storage unit (where most of our stuff is because we didn’t have room for it in our friend’s place — we appreciate the discount rent). I’m moving boxes to save money because we’ve never had to pay for movers, and I want to save them time and stairs that they will charge for. Then I can pack the car full to drop off after the walk-through tomorrow.
Lindo Lake
Caleb walks me to the beach for coffee before he leaves for work, since he has to stay late for Chief season as he takes two weeks off soon. Sometimes we live such a romantic life, and I’m here for it. I’ll go to my optometrist for an Optomap retinal exam (without dilating drops) that detects eye diseases and systemic conditions. I’m glad to know that my young eyes were just lacking exams altogether, as this technology was developed in the 90s. The doctor I see most is my dentist.
airplane views
I meet with our property manager, Shannon, on Wednesday. Caleb gets home an hour before the movers arrive, and they’re on the clock until 6pm, minus a long lunch break. Anyway, we helped move stuff too, or it would’ve taken two days, even though it feels like that’s what we paid for. We drive back to the old place for our food and kitchen appliances, unpack for two hours, and then enjoy a short bath. I’ll go back the next day to pick up my bicycle (that was in our friend’s garage) and then clean the floor as I would when moving out of anywhere else.
Oak Harbor
I don’t usually write about oil changes, but my notes for this… the oil light comes on, even though we’ve put more oil in (this turns out to be a recall issue that we get fixed). At the shop, one guy likes that I have Classical music on the radio, a tonic water bottle in the cup holder, and my bike in the back. The other guy opens my door for me, and loves that the cameras offer full surround footage. We still have so many boxes, but it’s nice to see our things after so many years.
Caleb on a motorcycle
I’ll go for a walk through the neighborhood, start a new donate pile (it seems to be a constant in our house), and Caleb finds room for his garage things in the dining room, living room, and spare bedroom. We’ve got to get it semi-liveable in here, as we will have our first guest when Uncle Ed stays with us before he rides back home to Washington.
burrito from El Cazador
Caleb lands in Denver as I’m eating breakfast on his way to Montana to deal with paperwork that he’s mailed twice in an attempt to get this done before our ride. I will walk around Lindo Lake and look at birds while he deals with the drama that is his dad. I fly out two days later to meet Caleb in Seattle. I get to walk through the metal detector because of the line, which is rare these days unless you’re a child or in a wheelchair. On the plane, I turn my long sleeves into a scarf, put my hair up, and take off my boots to help me cool down on this overly warm flight.
I’m sitting here, smiling, thinking about the sandwich that Caleb will get me when he lands first and how much I love him. I’m not sure what he has to choose from, though. This message, “Due to normal aircraft movement, channel is temporarily unavailable,” pops up on my screen. Luckily, it was just a temporary loss of GPS, as this usually occurs in flight simulators, so I’m sure the pilots were prepared. I wait on the tarmac while Caleb is at my gate with either sandwiches or a shitty turkey wrap (it’s happened before).
Washington
We wait an hour and a half for the shuttle that will take almost three hours to get us to Oak Harbor with a twenty-minute ferry ride. In the morning, I’ll have coffee with Ed and Lorraine. Caleb will join us for breakfast. We’re off to the bank for funds and then the motorcycle store for a fancy brain-protecting case for Caleb with a Bluetooth system, so we can talk or listen to music while we ride, which the guys can’t get to connect after an hour. I’ll buy Lorraine’s helmet, jacket, chaps, and gloves. We take a 40-mile ride with me on the back of Ed’s bike, and Caleb does great.
The guys continue to work on comms, and then we’ll go to dinner with Aunt Jamie and Kevin at El Cazador. Up early again, treated to a breakfast of eggs with onion and tomato, buttered toast, and coffee with chocolate creamer (and bacon for those interested), and on the bike to ride along the Skagit River and Sauk River with lunch at Burger Barn. When we get home, it’s time to wash butts and gear as we will ride to the Keystone Ferry Landing under the cover of tomorrow morning’s darkness.
TheJessicaness 