Riding, Day 12
Day 12 August 9, 2008
Last day. It's a hard admission to make – I don't want this to be over, to be done, not just yet. The five of us have jelled, we're a unit, we ride as one, and we're riding well, we're ready for whatever the road and circumstance can throw at us. When we're not riding, we're laughing or eating...both activities that a sane person can't really get enough of, and I don't want to give that up. But the cold truth is...it’s the last day, time to ride home, back to our separate "real world" lives. It's sunny, perfect really, but not my mood. I'm gonna miss all of this. Riding every day, new people, new sights, new adventures...we were explorers, men on the move. Damn.
We've got some miles to throw down, nearly 500, so there's no time for a leisurely breakfast. It's 7:30am and we're firing up the machines, Nate gives JP a shove and the Dyna chugs to life – they’ve got this bump-start thing down! As a unit, we pull out into the cool, high desert sun. It's not blazing yet, but it will be.
Nothing fancy on the itinerary today. It's pretty much I-80, straight west across Nevada, up and over Donner Pass, down through Sacramento...homeward bound. No long stops. We cruise along at about 80mph with little traffic and just one trooper. Shake and bake, gas and go.
Breakfast today is in Winnemucca, at a sort of casino/diner joint. Local kids are playing around the entrance while their parents plug in nickels and quarters hoping for the "big" payoff. No beautiful people here – this is a last chance, last hope place for folks without much of either. It could be me, but there's something just a little bit sad about the whole scene. We walk into the diner with its friendly servers and lots of food...pretty good, too. A hostess, probably a babe during the Kennedy administration, walks up and asks, "Whose jacket is that on that bike?" We look through the window; it's JP's. "You know, kids here are just like kids anywhere". We get the message and JP walks outside and removes the temptation. Nice lady.
This little interaction reminds me that throughout our odyssey, the number of people –and not just fellow riders – who have admonished us to “be sure to ride safe” has struck me as extraordinary. There was genuine concern, it was nice, and it happened a lot. No sideways glances, no disapproving stares...for the most part, the fact that we are bikers started folks talking, and our bikes initiated smiles, thumbs up and approving nods. We were, for a brief period of time, the embodiment of freedom and adventure, and people recognized it. It was humbling and very cool, all at once.
Finishing our last real meal together, maybe we’re taking just a bit more time, telling just one more story, laughing about on more dumb thing one of us did – last day kind of stuff. The checks come, one for each…we finally got that down and it only took ten days!
Bodies and bikes fueled up, we roar west. Strong crosswinds make themselves felt all the way to Reno, but we're seasoned high-mileage veterans now, no big deal. We're making good time.
It's "Hot August Nights" time in Reno with hot rods everywhere. I’ve never seen this before and I'm gonna have to come up and check it out sometime. We decide to pull into Reno Harley Davidson to have a chat with their techs, just to see what they think about the Dyna's current "issues". Good chance for a cold soda too, and a gander at the bikes, never a bad thing. The service manager tells us what we already know: it'll take hours to diagnose the "stumbling" problem, and even if they can, they aren't going to have the parts to fix it (the Dyna's almost 20 years old). If we wanna get home today, we're gonna have to steal a line from Vince's favorite biker comedy movie and "just ride!" (The name of the movie has been deliberately omitted by the author simply because I hate it, so there!). So we cross our gloved fingers and go west as young men do...
We gas up in Boomtown before we begin the ascent of the pass. It’s only 20 miles to the summit, so if JP can keep the bike moving, we're in the clear. We decide to keep a mellow pace, no more than 65mph – we don't want to push our luck, or the Dyna. I take point, Nate on my six, Vince and Mark flanking the boy, each of us in his designated role.
The miles click off; JP stays fixed in the rearview – so far, so good. Not much farther, Donner Lake to the left, and we're gonna make it, no "mechanicals" this trip! Up and over the summit, just an easy roll home now. It's cool at this altitude, feels great, but it'll heat up again soon as we descend into the foothills.
In a day full of "lasts", we stop in Auburn for one last gas stop. This will be the final time of the trip that we'll be able to talk to each other (OK, Vince and I have the Chatterboxes, but you get the idea), share a laugh and just hang out. We have some cold drinks, snap a group pic, and it's time to go. Handshakes won't do, it's hugs all around, it's been a hell of a trip – better than any of us (including the Sturgis Vets in our group) had imagined. The weather, the roads, the bikes, the scenery, Sturgis…it was all perfect, an adventure of a lifetime, but not quite done yet. There are still some miles to get under our wheels.
Head west on 80 through Roseville, skirt the edges of Sacramento. Mark stays on 80 as the rest of us turn south on "the Five" – he's heading to Winters. I've known Mark for years, well over twenty to be honest, and yet I had no idea about his encyclopedic knowledge of western history, but it sure enriched our journey. It's funny what a trip like this can reveal about others, and what we can learn about ourselves...
Down 5 we go, boring as hell, lots of traffic, smells like cow poo...I’m ready to be done with this. Exit onto Highway 12, straight shot to Rio Vista, then left on 160, we're nearly there. It's super windy, it's the Delta, welcome home. Vince and I talk a bit, I tell him what a great job he did in planning the route, hell, in planning the whole adventure! Great job my friend, great job. Over the Antioch Bridge, I take the Brentwood exit and so does Nate; he's got some friends to see. One last glance over my left shoulder as Vince and JP motor past and wave, and it’s on to Pittsburg and home.
I make my way through town, turn down my street and park in front of the house, and just like that it's over. 3,341 miles in 12 days, an adventure of a lifetime with four of the finest people a guy could ever know. Last day? No way, we're gonna do this again...there's no "last" about it!
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