Nietzsche and I took a glorious ride from St. Louis, through the Ozarks, down through central Arkansas and into Little Rock for a brief weekend of family freak outs and kickin' it with friends. The ride was perfect, sunny, fresh, changing leaves, and wicked "twisties" to navigate. Nietzsche and I were in the zone. But the even more fabulous part was my time with people I love. I was able to have a couple of beers and some tasty Arkansas BBQ with my newly wed best friend and her husband. My father, who I NEVER had a communicative relationship with, ended up bonding with me over my Harley. Seeing my mother, after the panic of the bike went away, smiling and talking with me is always a treat. I even got to have a beautiful night with a dear friend and people who are close to her. So my family was there for me, my friends were loving as always, and my fabric of people was strengthened with the addition of more hearty souls.
But, ahh, here comes the shit pile. Can you smell it? ... Leaving Little Rock on Sunday, I had planned to take highways home to save time. And actually, I couldn't have felt better, even though leaving friends and family is always a bit bittersweet. To me it's all about who says goodbye to you last, and my last goodbye that day before Nietzsche and I hit the road is one I will never forget :-) That final precious moment of bliss will live on forever in my mind as the calm before the storm that would be my ride back to St. Louis.
Okay, okay, I know I tend to babble, so I'm getting to the shit pile now. Allow me to make it into a list. The mileages are the number of miles away from Little Rock I had gotten:
- 30 miles -- The shift rod mechanism on Nietzsche detached itself from the main body of the control. I noticed when my shift peddle was lying loose on my left foot and I was creating pretty sparks behind me as the rod whipped the highway. So onto the shoulder I go, dig through my tools, lay on the pavement (scary as hell by the way with cars whizzing by at 70+ mph), reattach the rod, and merge back into traffic. Time Delay = 45 minutes.
- 80 miles -- I get pulled over by Searcy, AR, finest. Garnishing a ticket for improperly passing an officer while performing a traffic stop Time Delay = 30 minutes for the stop + 30 minutes on the phone with a friend to calm me down.
- 150 miles -- I make an off the route stop in Jonesboro, AR, to the only Harley shop anywhere nearby to obtain a tailight that worked. I knew I'd never make it to St. Louis before dark, so the tailight was a necessity. Time Delay= 40 minutes to include purchase of light, bullshitting with the shop dudes, talking to the chicks in the front, and installing my new taillight. I left with a smile on my face. Unfortunately the smile didn't last.
- 175 miles -- I decided in Jonesboro that rather than backtrack my way to the interstate, I'd try to take state roads in the direction of my destination and eventually meet up with the interstate. Bad idea, because I ended up lost. The only cool thing that came out of this lostness was the drive through areas of blooming cotton fields. First of all, I'd never seen a blooming field of cotton anywhere except in movies, and second of all, I never expected the smell that came from them. I can't even describe it to be honest. Anyway, Time Delay = 1 solid hour.
- 280 miles -- By the time I was good and going back onto the interstate, it was getting dark and friggen cold. I was nearing the town of Cape Girardeaux, MO, and with 120 miles left to ride, a wreck involving a trailer hitch and a mini-van which I was behind luckily, and the fact that my extremities were getting numb from the cold, I thought it best to pull into a hotel and leave in the morning.
So here I am frozen and exhausted in a town all the locals simply called the Cape. I saw that I had 2 options at this point. I could either settle in the room and get some work done or I could go out and peruse the Cape's nightlife. I can't let my peeps down, so of course I went out to see if there was anything to do. The decision was quickly and easily made that there really was nothing and no one for me in The Cape, so back to the Mo-Mo I go for much deserved rest and warmth after having some fried chicken and a 24 ounce beer.
I had to work in the morning, so I woke up at 5am, repacked Nietzsche, and departed once again. I have never been soooooooo in a hurry to see a sunrise in my entire life. My brown ass was freezing! I was stopping like every 25 miles just to regain feeling in my limbs. When the sun finally showed its face, I almost shed a damn tear I was so happy.
It was like instant warmth ... oh and instant light to see what I thought I would NEVER see in my life. I've seen tons of dead deer on the side of the highways in my lifetime, and I've known people who have said they've even hit a deer crossing the road. But dude, there is nothing like seeing a deer take 2 graceful leaps over a 2-lane interstate right in front of you on a motorcycle. It was like slow motion! It looked so damn fake to me that I thought the deer was photoshopped into my scenery. But it was definitely NOT fake as I used every ounce of stopping skill I could muster to bring Nietzsche's speed down from the 85 mph we were traveling. The deer was bigger than Nietzsche and I, and I knew that if a collision would have arisen, the deer would've won. After it scampered away, I gave a little kiss to Nietzsche's tachometer and accelerated away. If anything, it got my blood flowing and body warm. I managed to roll right into town just in time to get to the office.
Talk about a long day at work! The only thing that could get me through the day was a little Jimi Hendrix ... shout out for one of his best albums "VooDoo Soup"
And I must have looked a hot mess, because my teammates looked at me like I was the living dead. What it was, I still had black raccoon rings around my eyes from the goggles. Doh! It's not the first time I'd had to wash my face in the bathroom at work.
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