Go West Young Man!

32 Days and 5,536 Miles On My Vintage Motorcycle

September 17th

I get up around 9:30 and change my oil. Finish packing and Gord shows up. Neither of us can believe we are doing this. I wonder if I'm better at building motorcycles than riding them and hope I am not. It's overcast and threatening rain, but we drag ass anyways. The bikes are fully loaded, top heavy and unruly. We roll out of my front yard tepidly, relearning how to ride our now underpowered and overweight machines. I look back at my house and know I'll see it differently when I'm coming up the opposite end of the street nearly a month from now.

The ride out reveals something is amiss with Gord's bike. He's averaging around 30 miles per gallon. Considering he'd put only a handful of miles on it after we took out the motor I chalk it up to tuning. We agree to ride on and that we'll fix it in Tulsa, our day one destination.

Interstate 40 revolutionized the way people travel in this country. How many ghost towns did this soulless stretch of road leave in it's wake though? No road trip can involve riding this piece of crap. If anyone has had an adventure on a major interstate highway I'd like to hear about it. Riding i-40 to Tulsa from Little Rock was a necessary evil and none of it is worth remembering.

Finally in Oklahoma we hit the Muskogee Turnpike, pay our toll and ride into Tulsa. We meet my girlfriend in a bar. She's visiting a friend and has arranged for us to stay the night. Gord, me and Felicia share the front room. Out of respect for Gord I don't make sweet, sweet love to her in his presence.


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1 comments:

KernCountyKid said...

Here I am years later in s wheelchair 🗑

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