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Day 2 I rolled over and found a very small foot attached to some Bob the Builder jammies with a mop of blond hair sticking out of the other end. My grandson had snuck quiet enough to not wake us up and was trying to stow away and go with us, but he fell asleep waiting his chance. I picked him up and slipped him back into his own bed, tucked him and his brother and sister back under the covers, and whispered a quick goodbye. I went back to the den and checked the closk and it was 3:30am, so I rousted Mike and we packed out things as quietly as we could. My sort of staggered down the hall as we took our stuff ou to the bikes and started strapping everything down. She looked so cute with her hair going every which way, fuzzy slippers and pajamas, but she didnt seem amused when I said something about it. Oh well. We double checked the bikes and made sure everything was tight, and with a quick kiss and hug, we rolled down the street into the cool darkness. We rolled all the way to the frontage road of I-40 before we fired up the engines and let them warm up. Making sure the exhaust pipes were facing away form the houses, so we didnt wake the as the bikes warmed up. Another minute or two and I checked my watch is was 3:50am and I clicked her into gear and off we went. It was pretty cool yet with no sun light and as we crossed into New Mexico a light drizzle began to fall. Just enough to to keep it cool, but not too bad to ride. Slipped off the Interstate at the old Devils Highway (666) and headed north for Colorado. Didnt have to worry about much int he way of traffic yet so we rolled on the throttle a little more and put some miles behind us. Stopped for fuel again at just about sunrise and had a nice breakfast. We sat in a little cafe in Cortez Colorado, and had a smart ass of a waitress for entertainment, give us her best version of a hard time. It was a well spent half hour, kidding back and forth and all, but the road called. Now pulling on a cold wet leather jacket is not for the faint hearted once your warmed up again. But be that as it may, I did and Mike did with a gran and a shiver that reminded us to leave some of the coffee behind. We headed out again as the sunpoked through the clouds and sort of promised a reprieve from the rain, at least for a while. The bikes were running smooth and strong, with a very familiar deep grumble resonating back at us as we passed people on their way to work, or home, or wherever. A lot of people were looking at us as we cruised by, sometimes opening the throttles wide as we blasted past them. One poor bastard really took the cake as we shot by him heading for Denver. He had an old POS Dodge Minivan, dents, peeling paint & rust, with 3 crying in car seats, and a scraming wife in the front seat trying to put on her makeup using the vanity mirror. The look on his face, and in his eyes didnt even say take me with you, it said Please kill me now!!!!!!! Couldnt do it, so we both waved as we roared past. Leaving him behind to an unknown fate. Man it sent chills down my spine, remembering when the were little, and I would come home from the Firehouse, and hustle them off to school. I dont remember the rest of it being like that, but I felt for the poor guy. A couple hours later we were in Denver and it was about 3pm. We stretched out and walked some life back into our bones, and stopped at the Truck Stop for lunch. This place was a zoo! We had to wait for a booth, but after about 20 minutes one opened up, and we got served. Definately not the same quality of people working here as where we had breakfast. The waitress was so rushed she almost dropped her tray, and some of the Truckers were grumbling a little. But the nasty part was hearing the way these ignorant fools talked. I'm no saint, but at least have some Courtesy and Respect and dont ask the girl working her butt off, "wheres my f*%$ing coffee b*&^h". There were quite a few other bikers there, and several of them took his comment a little on the personal side. I know which side my bread was buttered on so Mike and I nodded our alliance to the Bikers. A couple of the boys walked up to his table and we watched as they just as politely advised him to stand up, apologize to the lady, leave a generous tip, and leave now before he needed medical attention. Of course we all that it was funny when his buddy sitting with him didnt even show any support. I couldnt believe this idiot was trying to stare down the guy that was talking to him. He paid his check, leaving most of his lunch on his plate, dropped a $20 on the table and told his buddy to get up they were leaving. His buddy walked out first, and the loudmouth got his lunch to go. One of the Bikers scooped up everything off his plate and slung it across the room, hitting him in the back of the head with it. The place just busted up laughing, and a few of the younger bikers(propects) made sure he left the parking lot without doing anything stupid. With that we all sat back down and finished our lunch. Just talking amongst ourselves about the weather, which route, which campground, etc. We did catch up with a couple of them at the bars and shows going on. Mike and I saddles back up, topped off the tanks, and made a run North, hoping for at least Cheyenne or at best Orin Wyoming. After almost 12 hours in the saddle we caught up with a large group of Bikers, maybe 30 or so and settled into the back of the pack with a nod to those riding the 6. They were moving along at a good clip, so we stayed with them, cruising along at around 80. It was dark when we hit Cheyenne and waited for our chance to fuel up again. Mike was talking with some of them as I went in and payed for the gas. They were starting to strap on their leathers, as they planned on pushing on farther. It was past 8 now, so we exchanged cards and where we would be staying in Sturgis, and we started looking for a hotel for the night, and they headed off into Wyoming. It took a lot of phone calls but we finally made a reservation for one about 5 miles from where we were now. So we followed their directions and found it without too much trouble. The parking lot was full of Harleys, so we knew we were in the right spot. We got checked in and a hot shower and made our way next door to a little Steak House Bar & Grill. Oh Lord sometimes it just doesnt get any better than this, a couple of cold beers, a good steak, a waitress that smiles and talks to you. Oh yeah it was a good day tater. |
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8/16/2006 5:19 pm |
Well....you haven't lost your touch. Great story and I'm looking forward to reading part 2. I can just see all of you as clearly as if I knew you...of course I also work with a bunch of bikers so it's pretty easy..lol.
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Wow, great travelogue!! Maybe you should have "circled that guys vehicle" like Indians did the wagons!! haha Getting ready to read the next one. I'm glad I missed them the other day so I can read them together. Ann 
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