Alaska 2004
 
 

Day 11

July 19

 
 

I sleep like a dead man and Miss Joyce is already long gone before I begin to stir. Don is sitting downstairs when I finally wander down.

“I thought we'd go down to California Sport Touring today if you like. Do you want to change the oil in your bike?” he asks.

“Well, considering the bunch of miles I've got on it, it probably would be a good thing. I'm a bit picky – does CAST carry Honda Red Dino?” I ask Don.

“I don't know but we can swing by the local Honda dealer if we need to” he tells me. “We can get breakfast in town while we are out.”

What a guy this Don is – he puts me up, he feeds me, then offers to haul my carcass around just to suit my peculiar wishes. I just hope I can get him to Tennessee one day so I can return the favor. He's got a house way up on a hill with some really incredible views that I really enjoy. I was raised in the hills of Tennessee and have always like to look out from a high spot.

 
   
  But living on a hill also presents it's challenges about getting up there. His driveway can be daunting if you're not used to such things. But it's always in good shape and no problem for an old hillbilly like me.  
   
 

I throw a load of clothes in the washer and we're out the door. It feels kind of funny to be riding in a cage after ten days of nothing but a motorcycle. But it's a good break just to sit back and be chauffeured around. We arrive at a local restaurant in Castro Valley – Caper's Café, and I get my usual pig meat and hen fruit. Don doesn't order much to eat.

“You feeling all right, Don? You look a little green around the gills” I tell him.

“Yeah, there's something going on with my stomach” he says.

We finish up and head out. Don knows the way to CAST and it's not long before we pull up into the parking lot. They are usually closed for business on Monday, but Don is such a regular customer, that they welcome us right in. Nothing like being with the right people. I can feel the heat from my credit card already in my wallet. When we walk in, I think to myself –

“Man, what toy store!”

It's chocked full of all sorts of stuff that a feller could drool over, not to mention ST specific stuff which is very rare to see. I see Kim sitting in the midst of the desks and tell him - .

“Hi Kim. You probably may not remember, but we met at WeSToc a few years ago. A face like mine is hard to forget.”

He makes the connection and also thanks me for the business I've done with him over the years.

“We're just now putting in a new computer system so we've been running a bit behind. But once it is in, it should help quite a bit” he tells me.

“Yeah, I'm in the computer business and conversions are always painful. I know you will be glad when it's done” I add.

Since I am out of love with my Widder heated gear, I check out their full display of Gerbing heated gear. Kim and his staff are extremely helpful and knowledgeable. I also pick up another set of heated grips since mine on the RedBird have quit working on the throttle side. I figure I've twisted the throttle side wire loose. And while I'm at it, I pickup some oil filters also. I figure I'd better quit before my credit card catches on fire. We settle up and get ready to leave. Kim tells us –

“I usually take my staff out on Mondays for lunch. You are more than welcome to join us if you like.”

Never one to turn down an invite to eat, we load up and head out to Kim's favorite Mexican restaurant. This is not the pseudo kind you find in most places, but the real deal. Kim orders in fluent Spanish and it is obvious that these folks know him and hold him in high regard.

“Kim – just how many languages do you speak?” I ask him.

“Well, five including English” he says.

He's led a very interesting life and it is fascinating to talk with him. The food is excellent and we all devour it quickly. When the tab comes, he takes care of it.

“Man, Kim, I didn't mean to freeload on you” I tell him.

“My pleasure” he replies.

We make our way back to CAST, say our good-byes to Kim and the staff. Then Don and I swing by East Bay Motorsports to pick up some Honda Dino Red. It's a typical Honda Shop and the folks are friendly. I get the gallon jug, pay for it and we're back to the Casa Cortez. My clothes are finished so I toss them in the dryer then wander out to Don's garage and change my oil. I usually try to change the oil and filter around 3,000 miles so it's a bit past due. I also check out the tread wear on the tires and know it'll be a close race to make it back home on them. With the RedBird buttoned back up, I wander out of the garage toward the house. Don and Joyce have two delightful dogs, Sadie – the golden retriever who loves to play fetch, and Chato – the Pomeranian who thinks she is grand master of the house - until Miss Joyce gets home.

 
   
 

It's a beautiful day, so I have a big time playing with both of them. I'd planned to visit Norma and Tommy while I was out on this trip so I figure I'd better go make a phone call. As it turns out Norma's dad is in from Brazil so she and Tommy will be tied up getting him back to the airport. I know it's been tough since losing Dennis at Christmas, so I do my best to encourage her over the phone. After I hang up, Don and I start talking about roads I could take back.

“You know, that highway 50 looks pretty interesting” I tell Don.

He just happens to know some great roads to get to the Nevada border from where he lives, so I take good notes. Before long, Miss Joyce has wonderful supper ready and we all sit down. I find out a little bit more about what Miss Joyce does and a bit about Don's family history. As we had discussed before, some of his ancestors very possibly served with my ancestors in the Civil War on the Tennessee side. As usual, Don and I sit up after everybody else goes to bed just talking.

“Don, you know I was going to spend tomorrow at Norma and Tommy's, but that ain't gonna work out. Besides, company and fish both begin to stink after three days” I tell him.

As usual, he is very insistent that I am no bother at all.

“Well, if I head out tomorrow, I could take a leisurely ride back home instead of my usual 2 ½ days. That would sure be different! I figure about 600 miles a day would get me there. Besides I'm kind of getting the road itch again.”

So I go over his suggested route to Carson City, Nevada one more time. I figure I'll sleep til I wake up, cook me a bit of breakfast and be off like a dirty shirt. We say our good nights and it's off to create some snore music for me. The sounds of the old song ‘On the Road Again' echo in my brain as I drift off in a peaceful slumber.