West 2002
 
 

Day 12

August 5

 
 

Dennis and I both are up early this morning and I prowl through the refrigerator. I latch on to the rest of the brown eggs we got for the cornbread and I whip up an omelet. Dennis breaks out the killer hot chocolate and I make me a cup. Meanwhile, Dennis slips into his front room and puts a video on – the Eagle's reunion tour. Sometimes in this day of rap and crap we tend to forget that even the old rockers were pretty musical. Many were classically trained and it shows in a lot of their work. A lot of their tunes flow nicely into orchestral arrangements, not to be confused with a lot of the soulless junk that masquerades as music today. We enjoy the time together, talking about music and life in general. Then it comes on –

“Hotel California – You can check out, but you can never leave!”

I will be parting from Dennis later in the day and checking out, but I know I will never leave. These last few days have been a great time of making new friends but have been far too short. It is one thing to open up your home to someone, but another thing to open up your heart and Dennis has done both. Then the phone rings, and it's the lovely Miss Norma and Tommy. Dennis hands the phone to me –

“Miss Norma, I sure am sorry I ran you plumb out of town all the way to Brazil. I really don't snore that loud!”

She laughs and I thank her for letting me stay at her house. Tommy comes on and we talk a little bit about motorcycles and such. Then I hand the phone back to Dennis. Being in the computer and phone business, I'm still amazed that someone in Brazil can pick up the phone, punch in some numbers and reach someone in the States. When I think of all the cables, switches, satellites, punchdown blocks, etc. the signal goes through, it's still simply amazing that at least one connection doesn't fail. Too soon it's time to head out to Yosemite and Dennis has picked an excellent route. It's nice to ride with someone who knows the road so I don't even have to think about it. All I have to do is follow and enjoy the scenery and that I am able to do very well today. The California backcountry is so different than what I see in Tennessee that I try to look everywhere at once and not run off the road. We stop in LaGrange and I snap a shot of the LaGrange Saloon, built in 1897 and still in use. 		 
 
 
  As we approach Yosemite, the terrain gets more and more rugged and the elevation increases. We ease our way into the park, taking several pictures along the way. I get some great shots of El Capitan.  
 
 
  As we move down into the park I spot a little chapel nestled in the trees.  
 
 
 

The vistas are unbelievable and I am so glad that Theodore Roosevelt and John Muir had the foresight to preserve it. What a shame it would be if this area had been turned into condo city.

  
 
 
 

It's about lunch time, so we head for the lodge so we can feed the beast. Pickings are a bit slim today because it's late, but we manage – two hungry men who love to eat will always find something. As we chow down, Dennis shares a great route to where I am going and suggests I spend the night at Mammoth Lakes and see the Devil's Postpile. Lunch is finished far too soon and we head for the bike. We both are needing gas, so we stop at park facility. Now comes the hard part - how do you leave a new friend? Not very easily, I'm afraid and that time has come.

“Dennis, you know Tennessee's only a couple of days from here” I say with a grin. “And the roads are really good.”

He smiles and we give each other a big bear hug. Leaving ain't easy, so I slowly pull away, and we wave as I'm off on my own again headed for Tioga Pass. This is the turning point for me on this trip, as the old RedBird is now firmly headed toward a certain holler in Tennessee. The scenery is gorgeous as I move along and old Redbird is just eating up the miles. I pass a Harley that is making more noise than usual and I try to distance myself quickly. I figure to myself that those guys never had a 57 Chevy with glasspacks so they could get the noise thing out of their system. I see a shot I want to take, so I pull over and realize I'm out of film. I fumble in my Darien jacket, put my wallet in my outside pocket and load my film. I squeeze the shot off of a beautiful lake down in the valley. 		 
 
 
 

Then I hear the racket machine catching up again. Not wanting to put up with that any more than I have to, I quickly do what STs do best – get out of Dodge in a flash. Again, the scenery is breathtaking and the weather is great as I descend out of the mountains. Having put some significant distance between me and the noise, I ease back off the throttle then stop for another quick picture.

  
 
 
 
As I get close to Mammoth Lakes, I decide I've got plenty of daylight and decide to see if I can make it to Bishop. It's starting to cool off a bit, so I try to zip my arm vents on the Darien. The only way I manage it is to hold one arm up in the air and reach around with the other hand to zip them up. I'm glad I have a throttle lock today so I don't have to stop, cause I'm really making great time. I finally get both zipped and start to warm up a bit. As I pass Tom's Place, I check my gas gauge and realize I'll need to stop for gas before too much longer. Feeling around for my wallet, I can't seem to find it. I rustle through my pockets as best I can as I move on down the road. Finally, I decide I'd better pull off and do a thorough search before I kill my fool self. I carefully go through each pocket in my Darien and it's not there. Then I go through the trunk, the saddlebags, and the fairing pockets. No luck there either – and then it hits me. When I pulled the film out of my pocket up on the ridge, I put my wallet in the open pocket behind my zip pocket to get it out of the way for the moment. When the Harley was approaching, I never moved it back in my haste to get away. So here I sit on the roadside in California - very little gas, no money, no identification, no credit cards, and a long way from home. My, how times like this improve your prayer life. I figure that Mammoth Lakes is a resort area, so I'm probably better off heading back there. Better chance of a Western Union office or a bank that I might could have my wife send some money too. Then I think of all of those ID cards, driver's license and such I will have to replace. And that pretty well wrecks the rest of the trip, since I don't want to spend a lot of time on backroads with no driver's license. Well, at least I made a copy of all of them before I left home. Fortunately the highway is a four lane with a really nice shoulder. Since I've got to go backward, I figure why not travel along the shoulder just in case I see my wallet? The chances of me finding it may be slim, but it's all I've got. My only concern is that some enterprising CHP officer is going to come along and I don't even have an ID. Oh well, I figure it's warm and dry at the police station. I slowly meander back against the traffic, getting lots of strange stares from the oncoming traffic. Mile after slow mile passes by as I strain my eyes watching the far side of the road. Any black clump cause me to slow down and take a closer look. I realize the sun is setting and my time is running out. I continue to pray and continue to look as my eyes are really getting tired. Then I see a black clump on the far side of the road that looks like something folded up. Could it be? I stop the bike and put it up on the center stand. My heart races as I run across to the other side of the road. Glory Hallelujah! It is indeed my wallet lying beside the road. The only thing that is missing is what little cash I had in it and some receipts. All my credit cards and ids are intact to my utter amazement. Evidently someone had found it, pulled out the cash and dropped it by the side of the road instead of throwing it in the trash or bushes. I offer a heartfelt prayer to the Lord realizing that the odds of me ever finding it were slimmer that I ever dreamed. I rejoice as I head back to Mammoth Lakes on the correct side of the road to get a motel room at the local Motel 6 .
  
 
 
 
I get checked in, but I am so keyed up that I cannot lay down. The emotions of what just happened are almost overwhelming. Rather than toss and turn in the bed, I know I need to do something. Then I realize that the Devil's Postpile is not far away, and there's a little daylight. Dennis said it was a very interesting sight, so I go for it. It is a much longer stretch on very narrow roads than I thought and the sun is sinking faster than I anticipated. I finally arrive, only to be greeted by darkness. I get a shot of the sign and that is about it.
 
 
 
 
With a great deal of energy spent by both this ride and the events of the day, I head back to my room. Too tired physically and emotionally to eat, I grab a diet Pepsi and some peanuts and gas up on the way back. There will be more interesting situations as I wing my way back home and more things lost, but nothing to quite compare to the events of this day.