born worshippers

We woke up slowly and got ready quickly Sunday morning. Adam W.s friend Adam F. arrived punctually and we loaded the two surfboards into the pickup he had rented and strapped them down. Coffee was mentioned and we began making our way down Mission until Adam W.  remembered that he'd forgotten his camera or vanity mirror or something. We went back and grabbed it, got coffee and headed south. I sat up front with Adam F.  and chatted with him a good bit throughout the ride. He's a young guy that worked with Adam W.  at some tea shop a while back, seems he's from the area but has moved around a good bit. He's got a calm confidence about himself that I like and enjoyed talking to him throughout the day. It took us a couple hours of fiddling with the radio before we got to Santa Cruz. Adam F. had spent some of his college years in Santa Cruz and was knowledgeable about the town. He also had made the acquaintance of a gentleman by the name of Joe, who is 65 and some manner of surf guru from what I gathered. We went directly over to Joe's house upon arriving in Santa Cruz. He resides 2 blocks from Cowles, a famous Santa Cruz surf spot, and about 4 blocks from Steamer's Lane, another world famous spot. Joe had a garage full of surfboards of various sizes, and enough wetsuits for a football team. He greeted us all warmly, and informed us that we had a few hours before the waves would be worth venturing out into. He helped me pick out a wetsuit that would fit, a board that he thought would be a good one to start with, and was generally encouraging. We walked down the coast to the Surfing Museum, a tiny little hut with a bunch of old pictures of guys in short shorts, and then made our way back to the truck to go get some lunch. We went to Santa Cruz taqueria, another staple I was told, and had some hispanic food. It was rejuvenating. Bean had a hankering for some beer, so they bought a six pack and we went back to the ocean, crawled down in a little cove and hung out for a little while. A guy was there tossing the ball into the water for his golden retriever, who went at it hard for an hour against some good waves, a family also showed up, husband, wife and son, all in wet suits and all began jumping off the rocks and boogie boarding and having what looked like a blast. There was also a guy who looked to be in his early twenties passed out on a rock nearby, Adam F. gave him one of the beers because he looked hungover. Adam W. and I stripped down and ran and got in the water and it was as icy as I'd been told. Bean and Adam W. were getting restless to get on their surfboards, so we made our way back to Joe's and suited up. I enjoy the way wetsuits feel. They feel like the hug that Ive always been looking for. Joe told us that he'd see us in a few hours when he speculated the waves would really be going off, and we carried our boards down to the cliffs to get in. Cowles was still flat, so for my first time surfing, I was taken to Steamer's Lane. The board Joe had given me was a huge, heavy, bright yellow foam board and it was a chore carrying down a wall of slippery rocks but I made it down there and then fought the tide for 15 minutes learning how to paddle out. There was probably a hundred people sitting on surfboards, demonstrating their patience. I guess the waves at Steamers Lane are somewhat consistent and these folk all knew just about where to be to catch the good ones. Needless to say, I was a hundred or so yards from the crowd, paddling around, practicing sitting up, trying to knee paddle, paddling along with waves that were coming in, and falling off alot for no reason. It was so much fun being in the ocean for an extended period of time. After an hour or so, I was exhausted and fought my way back to the cliff. I got a good laugh out of trying to make it the last 20 feet to shore and there was just kelp everywhere and rocks cutting my feet and I kept slipping, it was just so funny to be doing that at that moment instead of so many other things that I couldve been doing. A treacherous ascent up the cliff and I was done. Bean and the Adams followed me up there and then decided to try out Cowles because it looked like it was picking up as the sun set. I sat and watched them surf some mellow looking waves for an hour or so, then we went back over to Joe's, got out of our wetsuits and got into his outdoor hot tub for a while. It was just what my body wanted, and I relaxed to the point of slumber, but caught myself, got out and toweled off. Adam F. had to have the car back in San Francisco by 830 so we had to go. We all thanked Joe numerous times, loaded up and hit the road. A quick stop for pizza, and I dozed in and out on the way back to San Francisco. We listened to a show on NPR about a lady who interviewed the people in the New York town that she'd just moved to. She asked them three questions:   what do you live for?   what would you die for?    what would you kill for?      Almost all of the people gave the standard answers that youd expectd. Love, family, Jesus, integrity, honor, and alot of other fluff that people use words to smooth gaps over with. The last people she asked was a couple who'd been married for 30 or 40 years, and they were each others answers. They were each others purpose for being around and doing anything. Hearing this made me grit my teeth and force myself to make some more bad jokes, like    I live for  the opportunity to die for the chance to kill somebody.    and other silly things like that. We made it back to the city and Adam F. only had about 10 minutes, so he stopped to gas up and Bean, Adam W. and I grabbed our things to walk the rest of the way, so Adam F. could get back in time, which I imagine he didn't. Bean and I caught the bus back to his place from Adam's and I was out like a light.

Ran around Davis, after a good stretch the next morning. We'd just had coffee and snacks at a Black Bear Diner, and Jennifer, Emily, and Bean were browsing a thrift store's black friday sale, so I took off down the railroad tracks. There was hardly even any trash around the tracks and what there was, still looked useful. After all of them were done, we rode back over to Jasons. I cleaned myself up, got dressed, packed and got Josie smiling in the first sunshine we'd seen in 48 hours. Bean got on back and we rode down to Berkeley. We had made plans to take the 680 off to check out Mt. Diablo, but not 20 miles down the road, the sky was a very low overcast, so we just finished up the ride to Jennifers house. Only there a moment, Bean, Emily, and I walked up to the Berkeley Rose Garden and ate some hummus and veggies. The garden path was a labyrinthine loop and enjoyable to walk. After we all leaned on each other for the sunset, we made our way back to Jennifer's, this time walking through the campus. Belted on, booted up, Bean wearing the big bag, we bolted down the rest of 80 to the Bay Bridge. I sat in traffic at the tolls for 30 minutes, ol' man hand cramps creeping down the road in single file, Id noticed people going between the cars and felt temptation, but I held steady and paid the toll. The bridge was a fun ride. I imagine its the least busy sometime early in the morning and would like to ride her down hard. I locked Josie up out front of Bean's beside his stoop on a busy street, and decided that I didn't like her there. She's too inviting to have on show without people understanding not to touch. Bean and I both got more comfortable and he showed me around his 3rd floor apartment. Adam began making his way to Beans and we met him on the stoop with some beer. We all had a few, Emily and her friend Julie arrived, and we all danced up the wetness on the soft hunt for hours. Everyone went home, and I fixed Bean breakfast and he fixed me coffee the next morning while we sat around his kitchen. Adam headed back over, and we took Bean's housemates dogs, Mark and Tag for a walk around Alamo Square. Adam and Bean both bombed some hills, making it look casually thrilling. We eventually took the dogs and skateboards back and got Bean's Radical Fun Disc. We took it over to the Panhandle, which is a long block wide strip of park in central San Francisco. We chased the Disc around all over the park, getting excited when it got stuck in trees, throwing rocks, sticks, and bags of poop at it. Bean threw the Disc at a huge hawk, sitting there all majestic. A short ways in, we noticed that many of the trees had small metal tags with three digit numbers on them. We began searching the park for 230, while we tossed the Disc around. Left the Disc in one of the tallest trees, gave up on 230, and walked over to Haight St. for coffee, vegetables, and peanut butter cookies. We planned on grilling over at Adams for dinner and began making our way to that part of the city. Adam biked, and Bean rode on the back of Josie. Adam's got a gated back yard and figured I'd leave her over here at least until I got tags back on her. She is a 15 minute bus ride from Beans and that makes me anxious, though. We got corn, mexican cheese and mayo, potatoes, peppers and onions and mixed it all together on the grill, which we had a hard time keeping hot. After 2 hours though, dinner was ready and we stood in the dark and talked about how good it was. We called it a night early on, Adams friend Adam was to pick us up at 930 to head down the coast for a day of surfing.

three times, but lord i'm only coming up twice

spent a couple days in  Corona Del Mar, Dave and Tom's house is probably the nicest one that Ive ever been in, and still manages to feel like home and not a museum. They live a block from the beach in an extremely affluent neighborhood a little south of LA. I got some clothes washed, stretched on the beach, walked for 7 or 8 miles, ate two delicious meals with Tom and Dave, one prepared by Dave and one at the Rock n Fish in Laguna Beach, slept a good deal and showered alot. Dave and Tom are a hoot to talk to, and I found Dave to be very encouraging, they're a good couple and I hope to see them again. Wednesday morning I got up early, packed up, put a bunch of layers on and began heading up the 5. I didnt get very far before traffic had a different idea about my schedule. I sat in line for a couple hours, Josie cut out once, and I couldnt get her started, so I had to pull off  the side and tinker. Despite my quick frustration, she got right back in the vehicular crawl in no time. It finally all cleared up North of LA, and I hit the mountains. The scenery was something to write a blog about, and the sun was treating me like a lady. Josie was running like a bitch in heat, and she only presented the lurch/pop problem once, and I stopped and drained a bit out of the floats and she quit. I'm guessing something in my carbs need to be adjusted? Probably the floats themselves? Ill have to see what the viragotech guys say. The day went by and by, and 9 hours later I was in Davis, CA. Jason greeted with me with a hug, as did the rest of his housemates. He has one of the best living situations I can imagine. It culls the best from community living without having any of the bullshit that I feel accompanies it alot of the time. They had dinner ready when I got there, and I sat down at a large table with 7 or 8 other people while Charlie served us all of the food he'd prepared. It was all worth putting in my mouth on a daily basis. The spicy brussel sprouts, the spinach, the gnocchi, the homemade bread, all of it was exactly what I needed after a long cold ride. I noticed my hands were shaking during the meal, and my eyes were adjusted to the lack of wind and lights yet. After these long rides, Ive found that it takes a few hours of me opening my eyes wide and blinking alot before they start feeling normal. Thanksgiving morning, we got up early and rode in Sara's bike-laden minivan over to Sacramento to the 24th annual Appetite Enhancement ride. Even though it was overcast and raining somewhat, a couple hundred people were there by the time we arrived around 1030 or so. It was 10 dollars for all the food and beer you could consume. The food involved alot of fruits, breads, vegetables, dips, and grilled fresh mussels and oysters. The beverages consisted of about 6 or 7 different draft beers, 2 different types of wine, 3 or 4 different types of hard cider, and a variety of coffees. There was a soul DJ playing by the name of Larry the Flower. He'd also been djing at a bar we'd visited briefly the night before called G St. He had some talent and all the people were squirming with some rhythm in the mud. We stood in a small circle and chatted for a few hours until the bike ride commenced. I rode a collapsible bike that was about a third the size that it needed to be, but it got me there. I'd have to guess 500 people did the ride down to the river, maybe a couple miles, with a lap in front of the capitol building. We got down to the river and everyone had  brought the water bottles full of beer that had come with the entrance fee. It was rather cold out and no one was in the water, but all of a sudden, Robby was undressing and Sara and Yumi were already running to the water in their underwear. Luckily, one of my layers consisted of a pair of swimming trunks, so I peeled down to it and took off after them. There was hundreds of people watching the four of us wade out in this icy water, cheering us on. While we were standing out there talking about how cold we were, some sea lions started blowing water up in the air and chasing a school of fish, 30 or 40 yards away. They startled us at first, and we couldn't tell what they were. After we got out and gave numerous people high fives, I stood and let myself drip dry while watching other people in the crowd get motivated to run into the water and right back out. One of the fellas who had started the Appetite Enhancement ride presented Yumi and Sara with some gift certificates for being the first in the water, which was pretty cool. We rode back to the van, loaded it up, and went to sit in traffic. Yumi and I sat in the back and laughed just about the whole time. She smiles alot and it makes her a treat to be around. Jason and I had some cooking to do before the Community Dinner that evening at 530, so we broke out the pots and pans, and he blared some James Brown while we jiggled and stirred. We made pecan pie, lemon meringue pie, and corn pudding. His roommate Charlie was baking lots of his prize bread and there were people in and out the whole time. Some of them being Bean, Emily, and her friend Jennifer arriving from San Francisco. Big ol' hugs and smiles, once everything was baking and all the dishes were clean, Jason gave us all a tour of the complex. I hadn't seen much more than the inside of his house and carport, so I tagged along barefoot. The place is huge. From my understanding of it, a bunch of people back in the 80s decided to by a neighborhood of houses in the middle of Davis , and then took down all of the fences in their backyard and created a community space. They  share all sorts of things, but also give each other plenty of space. Family's live there, with an assortment of couples and grad students. The dinner was scheduled to be in the new community house, more or less in the center of their backyard. We collected the food we'd created and went on over. Everyone was friendly and seemed to use my name alot when they were speaking to me. The dinner was huge, 40 or 50 people sitting at a T shaped table, feasting. They had everything I could imagine and more. Coupled with the meal, my weariness from the last couple weeks rested heavily on my shoulders, so I washed my plate while everyone else was still dining and went back over to Jason's and passed out on the floor for 14 hours.

out of gas

even though we had left early, it wasn't early enough to get to see a fully prophetic sunrise, yet it was still a rather fetching sight from the mining tourist ghost town we stopped at. we roamed around this place, hours before it was set to open, and then headed back to emilys house. the three of us pitched in and made quite the breakfast. Emily was also headed to San Francisco for a week with her roommate Melanie, to spend thanksgiving with Melanies family and three of us planned on camping in Joshua Tree that night, about a 5 hour ride west, so she said we needed to eat up her vegetables otherwise theyd go bad. So  we had a panful of hashbrowns and onions and eggs scrambled with green beans and hot garlic paste. It was fantastic and we all ate our fill. Joe said goodbye and Emily and I packed up our things and waited for Melanie to show up. Melanie rides a 1980 Suzuki 850 with the front fairings on it. A right pretty bike. She arrived, packed, and we left. I was excited to ride without my 50 pd bag behind me, but my excitement was shortlived. The lurch/pop acceleration problem showed back up quick on the ride, probably because I was giving her more go than usual in order to keep up with Emily. I pulled over and took the air filter off to see if this had any effect on it, and it didn't. We kept on moving, and then I ran out of gas. Putter Putter Stop. Emily was on up ahead and she called and brought me some gas about 20 minutes later. I wandered around the side of Interstate 10, looking at all the junk that people had thrown out of their cars. Lots of car parts, an unopened manual to a wire welder, a shower decoration shaped like a foot, numerous bottles of piss, and so much more. All within 20 yards of where Id parked Josie. There's no telling what you'd find if you wondered the entire Interstate. I was surprised that neither a patrol car or someone on a motorcycle didnt stop to see whats up. But I probably didn't look like I was in need of help, just a dude wandering along the side of the road, smoking a cigarette and looking at the ground. I found a small lizard running around in a bush, and chased it around until it disappeared down a hole. I also discovered a massive ant colony. The colony  was probably two yards square and the ants themselves were almost an inch long. It was fascinating. There was a pile of something dried up next to the colony and I assume its what they predominantly eat. Emily and Melanie arrived back with gas in a gas can that the gas station had let them borrow. I found it to be a poorly designed gas tank at least for motorcycles, and I was glad that the girls were there, because in my misunderstanding of the way the thing operated I was about to dig out a huge plastic piece with my knife, before they pointed out that it just slides back. I gassed  up, and told Emily that I'd prefer to just buckle my bag back on and them go on ahead since it was only about 2 hours before sunset and we had about 3 to go. They took off and I stopped at the next gas station, only about 4 miles up, to fill up all the way. After I filled up, I decided that I wasn't pleased with the way my bag was attached, and as I was tightening it, I pulled the bike over on her left side. FUCK. I picked her  up quickly before it leaked out all the gas I just paid for and noticed that Id smashed the left turn signal on the front. What a day. She now wouldn't start at all, so I drained the float bowls and that got her going, but she wouldn't idle now. If I didn't give Josie a little love on the throttle, she'd just turn off. God damnit. I thought maybe if I just rode her for a while it might clear up. 100 miles down the road I stopped for gas, and she still wouldnt idle. I checked all the hoses, and a couple of them were loose on the side she fell on, and after I got them back on there good, she idled regularly. The sun set as I hit the California line and I once again got no grief about my missing plates at the checkpoint. I tested out the lurch/pop in 5th gear to see how it was, and it was nonexistent. Maybe draining the bowls did something for it? Im not sure, but she was spitting lightning all the way into CA. About 50 miles from the camp site exit, I thought about how Emily wouldnt have any service in the woods and there wouldnt be any way for me to find her. I stopped at an exit close to the camp and found myself to be correct. I gave Dave a call and asked him if he'd mind if I showed up at his house in Corona Del Mar a night early and he told me that of course he didnt mind and I was about 3 hours from his house. An hour into that ride, I hit rain and pulled over at a Chevron to wait it out. I talked to Moorepants for a while,  and then talked to Larry the gas station clerk for a while before I decided to just see how far I could get. On the radar, there wasnt just patches of green with dots of red, there was Bright blue spots and a little purple here and there, but I judged that it'd passed, so got on the road. 5 minutes down the road, I realized that I was wrong. The rain stung and it was in the 40s. I got soaking wet fast, and pulled over into a Dennys to wait it out again. I ate some food, drank a bunch of coffee, and then put on every stitch of clothing that I had with me. I had an hour and a half to go and decided to just do it. This became two hours by the end of it, and it was the longest two hours of the entire trip. It was still raining, very cold, and I didn't know exactly how to get where I was going. Traffic was tearing along past me, scaring me out my wits. I weaved my way through the last of the mountains at very low speed and received a lot of attention from the horns of other drivers. At one point, I took a wrong turn, and as soon as I realized it and turned around, I saw a shooting star, on a cloudy evening. Pretty rad. I finally made it Dave's house an eternity later and could barely stand. I stumbled down to the beach to look at the ocean and talk to Josie for a minute, then walked the block back to unbuckle my bag and carry it inside. I could barely move from exhaustion and the cold, but I dragged myself up the stairs. Dave woke up as I was going into the bedroom that I was going to be staying in, gave me a hug, and told me to make myself at home. I took off my clothes, got in the shower that adjoins the spare bedroom, and began a long shivering sob in a ball on the floor.. Josie and I had always talked about coming out here to visit her Uncle Dave. She shouldve been in the shower with me, we should be crawling in this giant, soft bed together, but instead, I was cold, exhausted, and alone. I consoled myself with the fact that Id finished the ride across the United States and fell asleep very quickly.

Still alert, yet unable to feel my hands or toes, I called it quits in Las Cruces, NM, after riding for 13 hours. The ride had been the best night of the trip so far, I had felt focused yet peaceful, attentive yet relaxed. I pulled over to a Super 8 and waited for the fat blonde dude working the desk to unlock the door and let me in to the lobby. This fella was not in the least bit friendly. I was talkative and hyper and happy to be in out of the cold, and he was glowering and dismissive. I suppose I should cut him some slack though, it was 4am and I probably either woke him up or interrupted his internet chat with his favorite east european adult webcam girl. He checked me in, I got up in room 215 and stripped immediately in order to take a hot shower. After 20 minutes, I finished shivering and crawled under the covers. It was late and I was exhausted, yet I couldn't manage to doze off because I kept hearing noises outside the window where I had parked Josie. I kept jumping up to look to see who I was going to have to maim for trying to steal her, but of course, there wasn't a soul around. A couple paranoid hours passed and I finally slept. ..until 930, which is when I woke up to take a shower and shave and get back on the road. The first couple hours were difficult due to my level of fatigue but the countryside through New Mexico is gorgeous and I'm glad that I had stopped the night before, so I didn't miss it. I took quite a bit of breaks, riding casually west on 10. At a gas station in Lordsburgh, NM, I watched a group of dirty barefoot good-for-nothings push an old RV into the parking lot, so I ran over and helped them push it to the back of the place. The plates on it said Colorado and they all kept referring to it as "Hobo." They didn't know what was wrong with it, had no tools, and no money. I imagine that they've never performed maintenance of any sort on the vehicle, yet were still thoroughly surprised that it wold break down on them. They asked me if I had any booze, drugs, or cash, and since they had a child running around with them, I gave them the 7 bucks I had. The child was so dirty, it was impossible to tell what gender it was, but it was still pretty cool. It kindof looked like the kid off Beyond Thunderdome. Right around the Arizona line, I started enjoying the day. Josie was gnawing on speed and I was wiggling in my seat to the music in my ears. Its been a day dream of mine for quite a while now to ride through the desert listening to my favorite jazz songs, and thats exactly what I did. Peppered with a little Eagles of Death Metal of course. In Willcox, AZ I watched a 3 legged beagle cross back and forth the only road in town. The whole place looked abandoned except for myself and the gas station attendant, and it made me wonder why she cut off her dogs leg. My destination for the evening was Gilbert, AZ, a small suburb of Phoenix where Emily Harry had moved a few years back to attend Dental school. I hadn't seen or communicated with Emily in years, and it was great to see her and catch back up. She hasn't changed and I felt comfortable and content around her immediately. After we chatted, she took me to meet her new beau Joe at a bar called the Boulders. The Boulders was a rather nifty spot. I particularly liked that they had an indoor place to put your bicycles, and they also had all sorts of patio games, such as a giant Jenga. I was introduced to Joe and all of his friends over the course of a couple beers. He is a friendly, boisterous guy who seems to have a good sense of humour. He also seems to know what he has in Emily and thats something I appreciate. We didn't hang out too late and all rode back over to Emilys to call it a night. I had felt a hint of anger behind my thoughts all day, and when I laid down to sleep, it became much more than that.. I stared at the ceiling so fucking pissed at my loneliness. Ill never see Josie again. Ill never watch her sleep with her eyes half open. Ill never catch her passed out in the bathtub with some young adult book about vampires. Ill never wrap my arms around her from behind and kiss the back of her head. Ill never calm her down again after a stressful day. Nothing. None of it. I eventually did fall asleep, and I dreamt for the first time in 3 weeks. It was a meaningless dream that involved comparing back hair with Charlie Sheen and an umpire at home plate, but it was a dream nonetheless. When Emily and Joe woke me early, I felt refreshed, and we went to watch the sun rise over the Superstition Mountains.

i dont think wet dream is the applicable word although it does make some literal sense. I woke yesterday  in the midst of mighty sob. I eventually fell back asleep, and when I awoke the second time, I packed my bag, left it on the couch.and went to catch the bus. It took  an hour and a half to get to the moto shop riding the bus, even though it had only taken me 3 hours to walk the same distance. Austin, I'm told, is a mecca for the blind, deaf, and people who have lost the sense of touch. There were numerous folks on and off the bus with white canes and my old inclination to follow them around for the day crawled out of its shallow grave, but i told myself that I didn't have time to be so curious and kept riding down to South Congress where Austin MotoClassics is located.  Dustin wasn't quite ready for me when I arrived though, so  I sat out on the picnic table and waited for him to finished putting back together the front caliper. From what he told me I'm glad that I didn't attempt to change the brake pads myself. He'd had a time getting the piston out and had to heat it as a last resort. It did come out though and he got it all back together, but even with new brake pads and him getting all the gum out of the caliper, my front brakes still don't do shit and it takes me 20 feet to stop even at low speeds. Just another reason to be careful I suppose. He suggested a master cylinder rebuild when I get somewhere for a while, I rebuilt the one on the Honda and it wasn't very difficult so I think I'll take care of it in San Francisco. One of the only tools I didn't pack in my bag was the snap-ring pliers, though, and that tool is key for these master cylinders. Getting those rings out without one is an absolute pain. He put on a new starter relay, new tires, said brake pads and did a number of other small things, and  Josie is once again a goddamn flowering wheelrocket.. Austin Moto Classics did a great job, and it was only 1 dollar more than I had guessed I was going to spend there, which is also a dollar more than she cost in the first place. They gave me a free t-shirt and I rode back to Zac and Laceys to get my bag. After some goodbyes, I made my way down 35 to 290 and rode that out to the 10. 290 passed through Fredricksburg, which is a town that alot of the organic produce and products that fill Austin come out of. There were well-off looking middle aged couples strolling around everywhere, windowshopping all of the mom and pop storefronts. It looked like a place my mom would like, quaint as they say. The sun set about a half hour before I hit 10, so I stopped at  Dauna's General Store and dauned all my cold weather gear. As I was suiting up, an fat elderly woman stood next to me and told me the ins and outs of making cupcakes all day. I never asked her why she had to make so many cupcakes, and she eventually got in one of the pickups in the parking lot. I would guess that there are more pickup trucks in Texas than horses, or even people for that matter. They're everywhere, along with SUVs. I wasn't aware that they made SUVs as large as some of the one's that blew by me. It was dark when I got to West 10, 487 miles from the New Mexico border, and the speed limit was 80. I made it my goal for the night to make it out of Texas, stopped for gas and some caffeine, and barreled towards the Pacific with a purpose. The fellas at Austin MotoClassics had warned me about hordes of mentally handicapped, suicidal deer that prowled the shoulders of 10, just waiting for the opportunity to prove themselves but I didn't see the first live deer, only piles of entrails and blood smears. The night ride was wonderful. Ive always been a fan of traveling at night and it was no exception. I didn't see very much of west Texas but I did catch of whiff of all the small towns I passed through. Most of them smelled like horseshit and tortillas, but El Paso smelled distinctly of fresh cut green peppers.

beatings

I haven't been able to recollect my dreams for weeks. Under normal circumstances, I can recall them vividly. This morning when I woke there was blood on my pillow. I don't know where it was coming from. I got the bag of tools and drank some water in the backyard while I read over electrical diagrams. Starter button ain't causing a flicker or a peep, neither is the neutral switch light. I push started her and realized that I'm getting better at it. My legs have gotten stronger. She's running from bees when she's going, sounding good, feeling vivacious, idling a bit better. Clutch switch still needs a bit of tinkering. Think it's gonna be on the motors end, not at the handle. Cable looks a bit slack though, so it could probably use a new one. Messed around a bit more with her pretty parts and then rode Josie to get her first good look by a professional since we've been together. Dustin at MotoClassics made me feel confident in his care for her, and I started walking back in the direction of Zac and Laceys. I estimated it to be about 10 miles but straight through the heart of Austin, from one side to the other. I walked from sidewalk to sidewalk, watching everybodys day go by. Zac and Lacey were sitting in their car in a small parking lot about a mile or so from their house. They had seen me and thought they'd offer me a ride. Back at the house, I began reading Richmond Macabre. Josie had interviewed the two editors/publishers and they had both signed the inside cover. I haven't picked up a book in weeks, and I was breathing more coolly while I read, enjoying the escapism, even during a story set within yards of where she died, although it did make that story much more powerful in its horror. I believe that I have a few of Josie's recorded interviews somewhere in storage. I want to hear her say my name. I want to hear her say anything. The night it happened, they let me back in to see her. She was alone in Trauma Bay 1. A young doctor let me through the curtain and I heaved and moaned on Josie's chest. When my weight would push down on her, air would come out of her ET tube and I would get excited briefly that she had started breathing again miraculously. It happened every time, and every time I would feel hopeful. I still do. I still hope it's some elaborate joke. I'll hopefully get her back tomorrow and she'll be all dolled up and ready for me to ride her out West, might even make it a midnight ride if I keep feeling the way I do.