Volume i Episode Three Larry’s Somewhere Under the Rainbow Motorcycle Adventure

Before the ride, I was wondering if I would spend much of my focus on the overwhelming scenery and my relationship with the bike or the flood of feelings that I am now experiencing. So far, I have been about the externals because this thing I am doing is a little over my head. It is so hard to explain what it feels like to be cruising on these two lane, winding roads, for hours at a time, all alone. Doing this ride alone magnifies the feelings because they are pure, just me and the bike.

Pulling into a different town each day is like starting over again and over again. I can see the cowboy side of this. It is my homage to the Bridgeport Inn. You get into each town and look for a place for your bike. Then, you unload your belongings and take them with you to the next stopping place. You step inside and a have a brief conversation, get your instructions and your key. The next morning, you do it in reverse. You reload everything and make sure it is tight and then you turn in your key.

I have had to loosen my grip because I have bumped into enough shit already. I am losing or misplacing things at an astonishing pace. When I unload the bike, it is not a pretty sight. Stuff is strewn around the room and I have not developed a system yet, but a couple of weeks of this might be sufficient motivation.

I seem to be in a sea of change and there is no escaping it on this ride. The bike might as well be a small boat, floating far from land, with me in it. Doing this demands a lot and I definitely have my seesaw moments.

Speaking of seesaw moments, I have been away from the keyboard for around an hour. I walked over to Chevy’s Fresh Mex for a Cadillac Margarita and Chicken Fajitas. I return a new man, refreshed and revitalized.

I do want to tell you about the day because it was a good one. I treated myself to a fine breakfast of chili eggs at the Bridgeport Inn. I repacked the bike for only the second time and it went surprisingly well. I didn’t want to screw up a call-in to Ron Wiley and needed to be on the phone by Noon, my time. I pulled off 395 at the Walker Country Store, swiped the phone and saw there was no service. I went inside and said I needed to call in to a Kauai radio station about my ride. This was the kind of place where you knew you would be given the phone.

The ride from the store to South Lake Tahoe took around ninety minutes. It               would climb as often as it would drop. I flinched a couple of times on some turns. I have never seen so many bikes in my life. The majority seemed to be leaving Tahoe, as I was approaching. It was also a Saturday, when many of these guys aren’t working.

I found today’s motel and then proceeded to spray my belongings all over the room. It was early because today’s ride was a short one. I wanted to see Lake Tahoe, so I cruised a little and ended up at the Lake, which is incredibly parched. I felt relaxed and a bit more comfortable with the rhythm of the ride. I was looking forward to getting back here, so I could write my story for the day.