Blue Eyes wanted her hair braided before going on the ride. I had never braided hair before. Here is a picture of my first attempt.
I got better at doing it after a couple tries. No really, I did!
Next I will learn the elusive French braid. Time to watch some instructional videos!
Finished the trip a couple weeks back. Was it fun Josh? Did you remember your Dad? How about the views? Josh, was it epic?
I'll get to answering those questions soon enough. First let me say, never try a high mile, first time, motorcycle trip in 100+ degree weather. Second, my booty was sore, my arms were scorched, and my eyes were toasted. It was exhilarating and exhausting. I am a better man for it.
The night before the trip saw Blue Eyes and I packing up the bike. We knew hot weather was in store so we packed water bottles in the freezer and light clothing for the bike. We both are nervous and it shows. The tingling of anticipation was in the air and we stayed up way too late. I felt like a kid trying to sleep the night before going to Disneyland.
In the morning we rode up to Dennys and met the fellow riders, eight of us in total. Blue Eyes and I met the fellow travellers and had a nice breakfast. They call themselves "God's Hogs and other Critters". They are a tremendously nice group of guys and gals.
We took some photos in the parking lot and embarked on the journey.
An hour or so south of Spokane we stop on the first break. My butt was already telling me how wize it was. But I figured I could endure and so I did.
A short time later, perhaps 30 minutes, our fearless leader has a flat tire. Much conversation is had and the solution is for his son to bring him a truck and trailer. His weekend was over.
The, now seven person, posse rolled out. The miles from here to Walla Walla were short, the temperature was getting annoying, and my butt was screaming.
On a side note, the motorcycle has a custom seat. It's made from a silicone gel and is designed to offer the most comfortable of rides. The problem is that I don't have motorcycle booty yet. Riding a bike puts you in an unusual position and the seat won't help much if you are a new rider. Every spring, when the motorcycles start coming out, the riders have to acquire their finely honed hides again.
After Walla Walla it became endurance. The temp had shot up, the seat was uncomfortable, and the miles seemed long. Miserable.
We had a brief respite as we crossed Toll Gate pass. The temps on top were significantly lower.
About 30 min before making it to Halfway, Oregon Blue Eyes got sick. Not a puke and can't go on sick, but a pull over I need a drink NOW sick.
I felt horrible. I'm willing to push myself and in some ways I am masochistic, but Blue Eyes shouldn't be in pain to pursue my adventure. As we rode into Halfway I just wanted her to be comfortable.
Halfway was beautiful. The little lodge we stayed at was terrific. The restaurant cooked a pizza that was awesome.
Blue Eyes and I hung out in this gazebo thingy and ate pizza. The only thing that could have made it better to be there would have been to stay one more night. The lodge was amazing.
In the morning we forged on. The Temps were down and the scenery was up. We twisted thru amazing canyons and beautiful hills. This was what I was here for. I could almost feel my dad wanting to carve the turns. We were in motorcycle territory.
We had discussed the night before and exit strategy because of the high heat. We would turn off the two lane twisty road early and head for a faster highway. The group didn't want to be caught out in the heat anymore.
After arriving on the faster highway I started to relax a bit. I knew this highway, I've driven it dozens of times in my big rig. Home would come quickly.
Boy was I wrong! The heat penetrated me to my core, the bike was blowing fire on my legs, and my butt was being kneaded into split pea soup. Ouch!
We stopped at a rest stop before climbing White Bird pass. "Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" mentions this area. I reflected on my dad, the motorcycle, and this area. But I couldn't groove too much on my emotions, the top of White Bird would bring heat.
We stopped in Grangeville for lunch. The air conditioning felt great. The sandwich was good. How on earth could I go ride some more? The ride was almost unbearable.
The group vowed to take a break about 40 miles away, just before going down the hill to Lewiston. One couple said they had a deadline in Spokane so ,when we pulled in to break, they soldiered on.
We poured water on our shirts. We put more sunblock on. We pumped each other up. "It's only 3 hours to Spokane". A break in Lewiston, a break after that, and we are home. Grunt, grunt, scratch, scratch.
Sufficiently cooled down and pumped up, we started down the hill to Lewiston. Within 10 minutes I could no longer breathe.
This wall of 110° air smacked me. I couldn't breathe! My arms were on fire. All I could do was fix my eyes on the bike in front of me. I forgot about my ass.
The leader suddenly darted into a gas station at the bottom of the hill. As I pull in Blue Eyes starts waving at some shade with grass. I pull up to the pump and she hops of and scurried for the shade.
The next 10 minutes will change the trip and alter Blue Eyes and my relationship forever.
I tell the leader I'm done. I'm gonna get a room for the night and go the final two hours in the morning. I can't do it anymore.
His wife had been crying and said she couldn't go on anymore. He agreed that staying the night was wize.
I went to tell Blue Eyes.
She was in tears. She looked up and cried out, "I'm sorry, I just can't go on".
My heart fell. She was worried that I was going to be mad. She was worried that I would tell her to "suck it up, we are going on". She was ready to be yelled at by a man. She had been hurt by men before.
This crushed me. I was that man. I was the uncaring, insensitive, and cruel jerk. I could not consider others. In my days of drinking I was a very mean man. But recovery has changed me.
As I looked upon the gorgeous face of Blue Eyes I wanted to weep.
I told her that we weren't going to go on any further. We would find a room and leave in the cool of the following morning.
The hotel was five minutes away. We cooled down for over an hour at that gas station to get the nerve to drive the five minutes.
Put a blow dryer on high. Put it as close to your lips as you can (Don't burn yourself!) and I think you can replicate breathing that hot of air. It was nuts!
At the hotel room we began worrying about our friends who had traveled on. I texted him and hoped for the best. An hour later he called and said that they had made it. Made it! That's great!
They had made it to Lewiston and had gotten a room. Driving on was nuts to them also!
One man did make the final leg. It took him 3.5 hours to travel 110 miles. He was nuts but he was safe.
The trip into Spokane the next morning was uneventful. My butt got a bit sore, but he ride was nice.
Thus endeth the trip.
But the story doesn't end there.....
Upon sharing the adventure with my step mom, she told me about some of the motorcycle trips with my dad. Seems that they would make plans to go and, regardless how hot, he would still go.
My dad was nutso!
I'm grateful for the trip. 796 miles was alot! I will go on future trips to exciting places. But if I have to drive long distance in the heat.......I won't be like my dad!
Today, July 6th, is my sobriety anniversary. It has been five years since alcohol has passed these lips. Five years of repairing decades worth of destruction. There is still much work to be done.
I am told that I am in the big leagues now. Five years is a benchmark, a milestone of recovery. Never in my wildest dreams could I ever have imagined life without alcohol for even a day, but five years!!!! Woot!!!!
Five years and one day ago I hit rock bottom. My alcoholism took its toll on everyone whom I knew. Some paid more, but it cost everyone for me to be a drunk.
Sometimes when drunks and druggies get together they play an informal game of "I can out bottom you". Some view this activity as silly and ridiculous, while others get quite upset at making light of tragic times. I don't bother playing the game. Most simply can't out bottom me. I'm a winner! A winner at failure!
Those early days in recovery were so scary. I had absolutely no idea if I could stay away from the drink. For so long my world revolved around getting the next drink. How could I convince my (ex)wife to go get another bottle without her worrying about how much I drank? Maybe I should buy a few bottles, but that never worked either. So when recovery came barging into my life I wasn't sure I could pull it off. Drinking was my life. By requiring me to quit, you were telling me that I could no longer be comfortable and alive.
I had tried all the tricks in the book to curb my drinking. The tricks never worked, for an alcoholic they never could. I was certain there was an elusive combo or formula that I could find where alcohol would work again. My favorite was waiting to drink til noon. Alcoholics drank in the morning. This was effective, until I discovered how awesome alcohol in the morning was.
I also suffer from terminal uniqueness. Many do. If I refuse to share about life with another person, I start to become unique again. It's a brutal cycle. As long as I'm convinced that nobody else has the same issues or problems, I will suffer alone.
That's the biggest thing now, I'M NOT ALONE!! I was alone in a church full of people, I was alone in my home, and I was alone at work. Every stinking place I went I was alone in my head. Alcohol solved that problem. It slowed down my thinking until I could manage.
Thank you to my many friends in recovery and to my family who has chosen to love me. These last five years have meant the world to me. I can't begin to tell you what you mean to me.
What a ride folks! This living open and honest is wild. The secrets almost killed me, the truth makes some people want to kill me, but in the end it doesn't matter. None of this was about me to begin with.
I'm just a broken man traveling and enjoying the scenery. I didn't make the man nor the scenery. God did.
So, I also want to thank my Creator.
God,
You knew that I would fail life in the most spectacular ways, yet you still loved me. Never once did I suprise you! You have been so gentle and patient with me. Even today as I write this you show me compassion and forgiveness. My response to being cared for by you was to run out and be hypocritical and judgemental, yet you still loved me.
All I can offer you are these filthy rags, but you told me that's all I needed to bring. Thank you.
While I was out injuring my fellow man, you had already paid the price to redeem me. I was a fool and I worked hard at proving it.
Thank you Father for sending your Son. I'm so grateful that my relationship with you doesn't depend upon my performance. As much as I want to serve you well, I find within myself no ability to carry it out.
You tell me that I can rest in the finished work of the cross, yet I still think there is something I can help with. Then, when I do think I've helped, I become boastful and proud of the work I've done.
I'm an arrogant and unforgiving man. But Lord, those people are stupid and haven't forgiven me!
I love you Lord, Josh
Thank you reader for reading these musings. I've been toying with the idea of making an appointment to write more faithfully. Perhaps I will. I'm also toying with the idea of submitting them to be published. Perhaps someday that may happen. Some editing will need to be done!
Five years.
Five years!!!!!!!!
I've witnessed the impossible.
