A little about me, and why I'm doing this.

I do enjoy sharing the circumstances and events that occur to me on my Road Trips, but mostly...

I want to share what's inside me... my emotions, my intuitions, and my dreams...

With the hope of distracting and encouraging you to think outside the box.

We all need to be distracted and encouraged once in a while, don’t we?

If this distraction also brings enjoyment or entertainment to you… It will make me happy.

I hope you decide you want to get to know me.

I hope you decide you want to get to know me.
I would love to get to know you!
My photo
San Francisco, California, United States
I'm an open minded, honest, fun loving guy, who loves sharing … my insights, my experiences, and my opinions about life... other people … and anything else that jumps into my mind when I’m in (or out of) the saddle. Spirituality-YES. Religion-NO. Sexuality-YES. Politics-NO. Humor-ALWAYS.

THIS IS SHARON

THIS IS SHARON
My Student, My Mentor, My Soulmate.

May 19, 2012

"Our Super-Honey-Moon Adventure Ride"



                   Santa Cruz - Joshua Tree - Tucson – Phoenix – Lake Havasu - Santa Cruz

                                                                  May 5 ~ 13, 2012


                                                                                          By:  Ned Opdyke
                                                                                    nedopdyke@gmail.com

                                                                                                PREFACE
Friday - May 4, 2012

This will be the second road trip adventure ride I’ve done with someone else.   I hope it turns out better than the first.           Glenn made it to Kingman, AZ, before he gave up and turned around, after the second day on the road.  He had his own bike though… Sharon, on the other hand, is sitting behind me on Honey, so she doesn’t have that as an option.  Her personality is much different than Glenn’s though… much better suited to being around me for extended periods of time.  At least that’s the way it’s seemed to be over the last few months of us being together.

Then, on the other hand… she and I have basically only been spending two, three, and on a rare occasion, four days in a row together, on weekends.  This trip will more than double the total duration of non-stop Ned time for her.  We were married a little over two months ago, and this trip is our honeymoon.  I hope when we get back, we’ll be celebrating our third month of marriage with smiles on our faces and not grimaces.

One thing is for certain though… we will definitely know each other better after this trip.  If it goes as planned, we’ll be on the road for nine days, and about 2,200 miles.  Originally, the route I chose, took us through Death Valley and the Grand Canyon, but that would’ve forced us to do four, five-hundred mile days in a row to get to our first destination, Tucson, to visit her parents for a couple of days.  Neither of us felt it was fair for her to have to wave at the sites, as we drove by them at 70 mph, so we decided to take a more direct route, and save the Death-Canyon ride for another time.

This is gonna be the first real road trip for Sharon.  She’s done a few single-day rides of over 200 miles, and one of just under 350, and came through those with flying colors, but this trip will start off with three days in a row of about 350 miles, and then end with two days of about 400 miles each day.  Fortunately, in between will be four days of mostly lounging by the pool(s) in Tucson and Phoenix.  Also fortunately, we bought her an air cushion for her seat, so her butt doesn’t come through this ride with flying colors.

Sharon is an incredible gal in so many ways.  As an example, she was feeling a little embarrassed about using the cushion.     She didn’t want me to look like I had a rookie, or a lightweight girlie-girl on the back of my bike with me.  She’s a proud woman, and has stood on her own two legs almost exclusively on her own, since she left home in Fairbanks, Alaska, when she was 18-years old.  And let me tell you, her legs have treated her very well while she’s been on her own… and are still looking mighty fine, thank you very much.

I’m proud to have her on the back of my bike, and am truly looking forward to this trip, which I’m sure will give her the confidence and security that she is my hot motorcycle momma.


Day 1:  Saturday - May 5, 2012
                                                                                                                      
4am- I’d hoped to be able to sleep until five, but after brief eye openings to check the time at two and three, I decided to go ahead and get started on my chores before going to the gym, for my (probably) last soak in a hot tub for the next week or so.  I kinda laugh at myself sometimes when I’m getting off the bike in front of the gym in the morning in my leather jacket and slippers, but I’ve gotten so spoiled over the last (many) years now… putting my shoes and socks on in the morning BEFORE        10 or 15 minutes in the hot tub just seems archaic and unnecessarily brutal to me.

This year’s “Super-moon” was setting in the west, as I walked into the gym.  Technically, it won’t be full until it rises again this evening, as we’re heading east towards Lebec; our first scheduled stop for day one, but it sure looks big and full to me. Just like my heart right now.

The picture didn’t turn out, so instead, I’ll tell you the coincidence (not) I thought of as I was sitting in the hot tub.  This year’s Super-moon (the closest to earth it will be this year) is happening on the same day as the day Sharon and I are starting our honey-MOON adventure ride.  On a motorcycle I named HONEY.  I just love how The Universe always seems to provide us with these coincidences… as long as we’re paying attention.  And just to put closure to this thought… in case you couldn’t tell… I’m SUPER happy right now.

And so was Sharon when I got home.  Bright eyed and pig-tailed, she was radiant even before she was fully awake.  Bless         her heart… her ‘clock’ has been set over the years, to stay in bed until about 9am each morning.  I had suggested that she consider getting up a little earlier, each day, as the date of our departure got closer, so she’d be semi-accustomed to the earlier starting time during our trip.  That didn’t happen, but just as she told me… her attitude and spirit was as chipper and happy as any I’ve had the joy to see during my favorite time of the day.  This picture on the left was taken at 6am, about ½ an hour after she got out of bed; the other one in the middle was taken at about an hour later, as we were getting ready to mount up and hit the road; and the last one was taken just seconds before we were, “Off and Away!

                        It’s not easy to decide which of these images brings more warmth and happiness to my heart.

 
          

We’d decided to make this trip as easy going and unrushed as any trip I’ve ever taken before.  The first opportunity to do some lolly-gagging was just past Carmel.  I stopped, pulled a U-ee, and went back to let Honey pose in front of one of her favorite types of road signs.  The Big Sur Coastline offers some of the best riding conditions I can think of.  The combination       of road and scenery makes this absolutely one of the premier riding locations in the world.
       
    









One of the only draw backs of this secluded beauty is the cost of gas.  Good thing we weren’t driving my truck… it woulda cost me over $200 to fill up.

                                                          
















Now comes the classic part of the story of Day One.  I’ll start out by telling you that before we left, in fact weeks before we left… Sharon had told me that the only thing she would like to ask of me as far as my decision making aspects of this trip,    was to not ‘push the envelope’ as much as I usually do on my stops for gas.

As part of our courtship, she’d read all my adventure stories, and had indicated that running out of gas, out in the middle of nowhere, was NOT her idea of fun.  Well… if it hadn’t’ve been for that pesky head wind we encountered, we would’ve made it to Maricopa without any problem whatsoever.  In fact… If we’d been able to make it about 300 yards up the hill behind me in the picture below, we could’ve literally and honestly coasted the remaining six miles into town.

Even after we both discovered that Sprint NOR Verizon had cell coverage, and no one could hear us now… Sharon proved herself to be a truly extraordinary human being.  Instead of getting upset, disappointed, or sad… she actually consoled me.

    
                        

As per my previous three experiences (or four… I’m starting to lose track) of running out of gas… it took only two or three minutes to get someone to stop and help, and only another 36 minutes for Kurt and Mitchell to return with some gas for us.  After it was all over, Sharon looked at me as if she was wondering if running out of gas was something I actually enjoyed.




                          
Forty-five minutes later, we were checked into our motel room in Gorman (just south of Lebec).  Nine and a half hours on  (and along) the road, and 344 miles of fun, beauty, and… exceptional patience.  Thank you Sharon.  I love you.


Day 2:  Sunday - May 6                                                                                                                                   

3:15am- It was about an earlier than I’d hoped, but when the time comes for me to start my day, there is not any chance in the world for me to try and fight it.  After I finished my shower, and returned to the room with my coffee, I asked my motorcycle momma if she’d prefer if I went to the lobby of the motel to do my morning routine of downloading pictures, and writing the first draft of my story from my journal notes.

My wife once again took my breath away.  Her response to my question was, “Would you like me to get up now, and we could get on the road before the sun comes up?”  Oh my gosh… am I the luckiest man in the world or what!?!!

5:30am- Time to start gently bouncing on the bed, and panting into her ear.  She giggled!!!  And just a few minutes later, here she is looking exquisite, from head to toes.








After putting the fear of ghosts into the waitress at the restaurant (by calling “Hello” through the locked doors, 15 minutes after the place was supposed to open), we were finally able to sit down and enjoy a huge, ranch-style breakfast before hitting the dusty trail.

Having a breakfast at all is something I have rarely done on my solo rides, but my new life as a companion on the road is making some (good) changes in my habits. My mother always told me, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

        







8:30am- Off and away.  EIGHT THIRTY!??!!  The sun seemed high in the sky already.  We’d burned more daylight on this morning, than I probably burned in most of my other rides combined!  Funny thing was… I didn’t care.  I’m changing.         Part of me is scared, but most of me is very happy.  Thank you Sharon, I love you.

11am- Victorville.  Our route coincidentally took us onto Route 66 for a short time, but during our brief time on the Historic Road, Sharon found herself a place to go shopping.  Good thing they didn’t have any shoes in there… we would’ve never gotten out.


                                                      
I’m sure you can’t read the names of the States the route traverses, so I’ll tell ya’all:

California – Arizona – New Mexico – Texas – Oklahoma – Kansas – Missouri –  Illinois.

1pm- Joshua Tree.  Sharon and I agreed (something that seems to happen a lot more than either of us can seem to get used to)… Joshua Tree National Park was, “Pretty in it’s own way.”  There were lots of very unique (Joshua) trees there, and some very interesting rock formations, but overall… this high desert area was a fairly plain plain.



The only place we stopped was at a scenic overlook, looking west across the valley below with Palm Springs in the distance.         It wasn’t even worth a photo.  However, these two knuckleheads were:


                            
And I call them ‘knuckleheads’ with all the due respect that a fellow knucklehead could give.  Rick and Jim were coming down from a hallucinogenic trip the night before, watching the Supermoon with about ten of their compadres.  Fellow wanderers from Santa Cruz, they’d both decided to call this area of the world home for a while.

Jim (on the right) almost broke into tears from homesickness, as I gave him (and a few of the surrounding tourists) my rendition of the closing portion of my schpeel from my tour as a guide at The Mystery Spot.  Sharon and I might’ve missed     the opportunity to socialize with these children of the hippy generation, had it not been for the fact that I was wearing one    of my shirts with “The Spot” logo on it.  We also might’ve missed a free beer.  Bud in a can.  My favorite.  I love how The Universe always seems to provide us with exactly what we need.

Our last stop, before my dreamboat and I stopped for the day at our motel in Blythe, was for an ice cream on I-10, the first freeway we’d been on since early that day.  Lots of small squiggly black (and gray) lines; that’s what the map showed of the route that I’d picked for us.


                   
Tired, and slightly sunburned, we showered and walked across the street to a steak house for meat, potatoes, and… more ice cream!!

Day 2 – 345 miles and 9 hrs in (and out) of the saddle.


Day 3:  Monday – May 7                                                                                                                                

4am- Yeay!  I slept in!  And slept soundly.  After doing my journal updates, and my morning coffee with the associated bodily function effect the coffee has on me…

5:30am- Yeay!  She giggled again!!!  And still glowing… just like a flower… a Morning Glory!  As I was chomping at the bit, trying to get on the road before we burned any more daylight, she just had to take the time to feed one of the local residents.  Jeesh… my Thor persona sure is taking a back seat on this adventure ride… without any complaints!

       

                                   


In fact, I decided to take advantage of the moment, and introduced myself to a few of the other motel patrons, as they were also getting ready to leave:

Kenneth was a fellow biker brother, on his way home to Safford, AZ, after spending some time with his son in San Francisco.  This semi-retired mining engineer had motored over 700 miles the day before, and looked as fresh and chipper as a youngster after 10 hours of sleep.  I remember when I was a kid I thought anyone over 50 years old was ancient.  Boy, funny how our perspectives and attitudes change, as we grow more experienced and wiser isn’t it?

It was Bob’s birthday, and Sally was still teasing him about the problems he had with the waffle iron in the lobby that morning.  “We spent half and hour cleaning that stupid thing.”  It was a very cute and endearing teasing.  Sharon had   actually commented to me about them while we were eating our complimentary breakfast.  They must’ve been close to        75, and guess what… they didn’t seem ancient to me at all! 

        
              

As I stood there, leisurely enjoying the shade of the morning sun getting higher and higher in the sky behind me… I realized something.  I’d forgotten to buy my morning good luck beverage.  This time, Thor put his foot down.  Lolly-gagging and getting on the road later than normal was one thing, but not having a beer before hitting the dusty trail, was just not going to happen.  And it didn’t.  Boy oh boy… life is good.  I felt like a kid again, as I strut down the sidewalk outside the mini mart, to share my joy with Honey and Sharon.

                      
                                                         
Fortunately… my Morning Glory doesn’t mind if Thor acts silly once in a while.

At our first stop for gas, I took the time to lolly-gag for about an hour.  An hour!?!?!  That’s unheard of.  Well… not totally unheard of.  One time I spent about that long, on a July 4th, looking for, finding, and then mounting an American Flag on the back of Honey.  After all that time, the flag was gone after coming out of a roadside saloon only about 45 miles down the road.

The sign that Sharon and I co-created has already lasted much longer than that, and we hope to make it last a lifetime!    

Note the name of the place where we bought, made, and installed it.

                      
                                                  



Nicci sold us the Beatles poster we used, loaned us the tools required, and just couldn’t resist coming out to see the finished product.  My Morning Glory and I love to share our morning beer with each other, and our joy with everyone.

                                      

                                                   

After a sit down lunch in Gila Bend to cool off with… wait for it… MORE ice cream…






We took our first of two side-trips that day.  It was only 11 miles each way, to the ‘Painted Rock/ Petroglyphs’ exhibit, and even though it was sad to see the damage that modern man had done to them with his non-artistic additions… it was well worth the time.
                                                                         






We also stopped to witness a 25’ Saguaro in full bloom.

 

                                                














Not far down the road, we also stopped to see another one in full bloom.


Boy, what a show off, huh?


My first thought was that his arms seemed a little too short, but then I realized it was that his penis was so long.  Sharon’s comment was, “Are you 12 years old?”  My response… “No, 16.”






The last stop (and 12 mile each way) sidetrack was to the top of Kitt Peak, which has an observatory that, when it was first built in 1958, had the second largest telescope in the world.  And it’s still the site with the most diverse collection of observatory equipment in   the world.


                                          
Sharon shattered her record for most miles for one day when we arrived at her parents’ home just north of Tucson, 12 hours and 478 miles later.  Three days and 1,168 miles from Santa Cruz, and she’s still giggling and glowing… morning, noon, and night.  Thank you Sharon, I love you.


Day 4:  Tuesday – May 8                                                                                                                                

3:05am- Sharon’s snoring hadn’t been noticeable over the last few weeks prior to leaving Santa Cruz, so I didn’t even consider packing my ear plugs.  That was a mistake.  I didn’t really mind getting up though, I knew I’d have most of the day to nap, lounge, and relax.

As I was just finishing my last cup of coffee and the transcribing of my journal notes and pictures into this story, the sunrise appeared through the locked screen door.  Why they unlocked the front screen door for me to go for a walk in the morning, but locked the one to the back yard is still a mystery to me.  And so it will remain.  Because… guess what… it just doesn’t matter.



In the past, it would’ve been almost impossible for me not to ask Terry & Ruth, as soon as they came out of their bedroom.  But one of the changes that’s been going on over the last couple or so years, is that I don’t find myself as compelled to resolve things I don’t under-stand as I used to be.  I am learning to trust The Universe, and most of the little aspects that go along with it, as being correct the way they happen, even if it doesn’t make sense to me.
                                                       
Which is at the opposite end of the spectrum in comparison to how I am the other 75% of the time.  As an example, as Sharon and I were coming down from Mt. Kitt the day before, she told me she was glad I’d talked her into taking the extra time.  She mentioned that she (just like me) has always had control issues.  I interrupted her, by reminding her that I very much resembled that remark.

She finished her point, by saying that she really wanted to be able to trust me, and allow me to make all the decisions about where we were going to go, and what we were going to do while we were traveling on the road during this trip, and that it was not easy for her.  So my comment was, “That’s ok sweetheart, most people find themselves being carried along in Thor’s wake.”  Sharon didn’t miss a beat, as she said, “Let’s call that Thor-stream.”

I just love how we both enjoy words and using them in creative and unique ways.  I haven’t told Sharon yet, but when I’m done editing this story, I’m gonna ask her to add her own epilogue to the end of it.

After the obligatory bed bouncing and giggling, I shaved for the first time on the trip.  Usually I can accomplish this task without too much bloodshed, but for some reason this morning, I was not quite as successful.  The worst nick was on my neck on my left side that you can’t see in this picture.  I guess the adage about records being meant to be broken is going to hold true for this trip too.  Sharon’s one-day mileage: 478.  Ned’s nicks while shaving: 6.


                                                    
After I was able to stop the blood from flowing, we were treated to a wonderful breakfast by Sharon’s mother, and a very nice personally guided tour of the local hiking trail by her father.  These pictures were taken along the “Honey Bee Creek Hiking Trail,” just down the road from Sharon’s parents’ house in a small suburb of Tucson called Sun City.

  
            
                                                                                   Cholla (in background)                                                   Barrel                                          Prickly Pear  (yep, red & yellow!)





    Barrel, Cholla, Prickly Pear, and Terry & Sharon.


           
         




Saguaro and The Santa Catalina Mountains.










Day 4 of our trip ended with a very pleasant tour of Terry & Ruth’s new home (they just purchased that day!) and a congratulatory dinner out.  Tomorrow’s activities: laundry and then a ride to Mt. Lemmon (another observatory and a ski resort) at an elevation of 9,157’.


Day 5:  Wednesday – May 9                                                                                                                          

3:15am- Looks like my clock is now officially set for the duration of this trip.  Even without the melodic and soothing deep breathing of my Precious and Beautiful Wife Morning Glory… I woke up wide-eyed and bushy tailed.  I wish I would’ve thought to confirm which items she wanted to go in the laundry.

6:15am- The rest of the family decided to join me on this glorious morning.  Unfortunately, my blog didn't want to upload my video, so here are some stills and a brief synopsis of what I’m saying in the video:


“This is a red cardinal that has been serenading us each morning while we’ve been here.  And here are The Santa Catalina Mountains where we’re going today.  You probably can’t see it here, but there is an observatory at the top of Mt. Lemmon, there on the left, and that’s where we’re going to be later this morning.  And here… is Sharon’s father Terry, also providing us with some beautiful morning music.”

Sun City is in the north-west quadrant of The Greater Tucson Area (GTA), and it took us almost an hour to get to the base of the mountain range on the north-east section of the city, where the road started up the hill.  Here’s a picture of the south end of the range, and then a Beautiful view of The GTA, as we started up the hill:

         

                   
It was an unseasonably cool morning (about 75 degrees), as we started winding up the hill, at about 9am.  As we passed the 5,000’ elevation sign, it began to cool down dramatically.  But when we got to 7,000’ it was darn right cold.  By the time we got to the summit, at just over 9,000’, we’d wished we’d brought our chaps and heavy gloves.  Fortunately, when we stopped moving, the air wasn’t nearly as ‘cutting.’

We enjoyed a brief, and very sad conversation with ‘Caretaker Ken,’ outside the Iron Door Restaurant, who’d cabin had burned down in the “Great Aspen Fire of ‘04”.  Then we cruised back down the hill a couple miles into ‘town.’  Our first stop there was at “The Cookie Cabin,” where we met a local rider, “Kawasaki Ken.”

Sharon coined the description of the days ride’s name as “Two Ken” (pronounced like the bird).  She also voiced her confusion about how I sometimes become quiet when I meet someone else on the road who is as obnoxious as I can be at certain times.  The ‘Crazy Cookie Cabin Girls’ showed up just as we were mounting Honey, and were all wound up like schoolgirls who were out cutting class.

 

             
Our next stop was at The General Store, where Sharon bought a pound of fresh fudge.  A pound of fudge sounds like a lot… but it’s not, and I was told so, in no uncertain terms, as I was helping myself to it, later that evening after beating everyone at a game of “Mexican Train Dominos.”  And please don’t ask me if there were any donkeys involved, ok?  That would just be rude… even for me.

Before we started back down the hill, we stopped at The Sawmill Run Restaurant for lunch.  It had just opened up and it was really good.  Fabian and Dominic were waiting the tables, and Steve was doing the cooking. I told them I’d promote the place on my blog, so… I highly recommend that you take the drive up there if you’re in the area.  Sorry the picture turned out so fuzzy guys.  Honey was waiting outside, meeting 2 new girlfriends in the parking lot.



             






After lunch it was even colder, so Sharon turned her bandana into a face protector.                             I asked her to give me a big smile… and she did.  Use your imagination.






The other two pictures are views from, and of, the OUTSTANDING road that we all enjoyed very much this day.  All three of us (don’t forget Honey) were wearing big smiles all day long.



          

           
As we were coming down the last stretch of the road back into Tucson, we saw some lightning flashes in the distance, and shortly after we got Honey parked in the garage, we got hit by a dust storm.  Actually it was bigger than a dust storm.  It was a “Haboob,” which is what they call a dust storm after it gets bigger than a certain size.
Day 5 ended after adding 125 miles to our total, which brought it to 1,293.  Our Super Honey Moon Adventure Ride continues to be a blessed celebration of the joined union between Sharon, myself… and… Honey.  And the moon.  And the stars.  They’re there… use your imagination!   



        
Day 6:  Thursday – May 10                                                                                                                            

3:45am- Best night of sleep on the trip so far.  It must’ve been the fudge.



“Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day.  I’ve got a wonderful feeling, everything’s going my way.”  I thought I’d wake Sharon up with something different than the gentle bouncing that I’d been doing the first five days of the trip.  Yeah, that’s me, wild and crazy… I have to shake things up once in a while… that’s just the way I roll.

6am- What a wonderful visit with Sharon’s parents.  Really great folks, and full of love and joy for life.  Just the kind of people I like to associate with.  Thank you Sharon… and Ruth, and Terry… I love you.

         

                       
Not only is Terry an (almost) concert quality pianist, but his oil paintings are also of professional grade.  As is Ruth’s cooking by the way.  I think I like this picture of Sharon and Honey and I the best so far.  Even though it was sad to leave Tucson, we look happy.  Pampered, we were.

                                            

Two more pics of The Catalinas.  One giving you a clear view of “The Man in the Canoe,” and another, courtesy of my Beautiful Wife, as were tooling down Hwy 77, leaving them behind.

     

      
Not far down the road, we stopped at a place we’re gonna hafta go back to.  We were both anxious to get to The GPA (Greater Phoenix Area) and see Sharon’s brother and my daughter.  Plus… the poolside lounging was sounding pretty darn good as well.

               

Our first stop was in Gilbert, on the south end The GPA to visit her (step) brother and his wife.  I wish the picture of Eva would’ve turned out better.  We’ll just have to go back and spend some more time with them sometime… she is a real cutie.  Here’s one of Kary and Sharon though.  He’s a cutie too don’tchya think!  Thanks to both of you for the hospitality and the lunch!

We made it to our (coincidentally named “Hospitality”) motel at around 2:30, just in time for the hottest part of the day, and were in and next to the pool by 3.  My daughter Eron joined us at 5, and we had a few celebratory cocktails poolside, before (jay) walking across the street to a very nice Italian Restaurant.  I wish I woulda remembered to take a picture of Eron, but don’t worry, you’ll get to see her in tomorrow’s entry.

Day 6’s adventures ended for us, with some serious cuddling and what turned out to be the best and longest night sleep I’d had since getting on the road.  Funny… I wonder if the ‘serious cuddling’ might’ve had something to do with that?  166 miles for the day, and a total of 1,459.


Day 7:  Friday – May 11                                                                                                                                 

6am- SIX AM!  Wow… I feel GREAT!  Look out Wife… we’re gonna have some fun today!

8am- Post bouncing ~ giggling ~ singing ~ and more giggling, here’s our wild and crazy plans for the first part of the day:     1) Order room service breakfast;  2) More giggling ~ cuddling; and finally… 3) Ned going for a short ride to an overlook of The GPA that Eron recommended last night, while Sharon does some serious poolside lounging.  That should get us to about noon, when it will be time to meet Eron at “The Vig,” the restaurant/ bar that she works at.  Whew… how do you do it, you may ask… how do you pack so much incredible fun and excitement into your day?  Well, it’s not easy, let me tell you, but stick with us, and maybe you’ll get the hang of it yourselves.

10am- So the newlyweds actually went their separate directions for a whole hour!  Honey and I enjoyed ourselves at Camelback Mountain (more like a hill), while Sharon and her feet did their first of two poolside lounges of the day.

 
       

Honey also asked to visit a very exclusive resort.  She just loves to hob nob with the rich folk.

 

      
11am- The newlyweds reunited right away.  The only reason I’m posting this picture, is to give me a kick in the ass about losing some weight.  No, a LOT of weight.  Right after I finish this beer…

          








1pm- A very nice lunch with “The Vig Girl,” and then Eron wanted us to meet her dog “Marshall,” so we went back to her house for a short visit.


                             



The first thing I noticed (after introducing myself to Marshall of course), was her coat rack.  This is Phoenix, you don’t need coats here.  But you do need a large selection of sunglasses.  Some girls like shoes… my daughter obviously likes sunglasses.





4pm- One last poolside lounge, gratefully sans picture, and then…

6pm- Off to Scottsdale Community College, home of the fighting artichokes, for the graduation ceremony.  It was a nice ceremony, but as soon as it was over, it was time to return to our motel for a late dinner, and bed.  Sharon had warned me that she doesn’t do well in the heat, but she was doing a lot better than I was… by far.

 

                                 


Day 7 ended quietly and lovingly with the newlyweds snuggled closely together, and Honey waiting patiently for us just outside our room.  66 miles for the day, and 1,525 for the trip.


Day 8:  Saturday – May 12
5am- Ned up.    6:30- Sharon up.   7- Breakfast.   8- Off and away.

As we were leaving the GPA, we realized that somehow… we had missed our exit, which would’ve taken us north, through a suburb called Surprise.  I wanted it to be a surprise for Sharon, but the surprise turned out to be on me.  And… it was no Surprise for both of us.

There was a surprise waiting for us down the road though.  After realizing that we’d missed our turn, and that we’d be on the freeway longer than I’d planned, I was not too disappointed.  The route I’d chosen originally was slightly longer, and now… we’d be ahead of schedule a little bit.  No, that wasn’t the surprise.

11am- After over 1,000 miles of nothing but rocks and sand, we finally made it to some lush greenery.  The Colorado River, and Lake Havasu was as dramatically beautiful and a soothing a vision to Sharon as it had been for me, several years ago, when I drove this route (AZ State Highway 95, north from I-10 towards Bullhead City).  Nope, that wasn’t the surprise either.

        

                                      




Noon- Sharon had never been there before, and I’d never stopped, so we did, and had lunch at a nice restaurant, overlooking the London Bridge.  Keep waiting, the surprise is coming.





2pm- As we were approaching Needles, finally back in California, it was 104 degrees.  We might’ve been in California, but we were still in ‘hell.’  Ok… now the surprise, I know you’ve all been getting more and more excited about this.

We had planned to ride another 2 ½ hours to Barstow for the night, and then make it back home to Santa Cruz the next day, so we’d have one whole day to decompress after our ride... but the heat was just too much for me.  I’d ridden in these conditions in the past, and had never experienced anything like what I was feeling on this day.  Now I understand and have a much greater feeling of compassion to how my buddy Glenn had felt the time he fell victim to heat stroke.  If any of you have never had an opportunity to experience this condition… consider yourselves lucky.

3pm- I was laid out flat on the bed, in the motel room in Needles, with the air conditioner on full blast and the drapes closed.   And Sharon, the one who’d forewarned me of her troubles with the heat… was laid out flat too… lounging poolside.  In the sun!!!

I know what you’re thinking… that wasn’t much of a surprise was it.  Well… too bad.  It’s Sunday morning at 5am, and I’m still feeling groggy from yesterday.  Plus… I’m trying to write this portion of the story as quickly as possible, so we can get on Honey as early as possible, and try to make it back to the coolness of the California Central Valley as soon as we can.   I never thought I’d be calling the Central Valley ‘cool,’ but compared to this gosh-forsaken desert we’re in right now… it is!

Ok, that’s it for Day 8:  267 for the day;  1,792 for the trip.


Day 9:  Sunday – May 13
We decided to break traditions this morning for good luck.  We both agreed that getting locked up in ritualistic nonsense is… well… nonsense.  So, after some very serious discussion, we both decided… Sharon would forgo her french toast for breakfast, and I’d forgo my beer.  Eggs benedict and Gatorade instead.  Well… not together at the same time, that would just be ridiculous.  We’re wild and crazy but certainly not completely uncivilized!

It was 7:45am by the time we rolled out of the motel in Needles, and the temperature was already starting to rise; from a low of 68.  We were both looking forward to the cool temperatures of the coast, where 68 was near the high, not the low of the day.

One thing I’ve forgotten to mention until now, about this trip, is how often when one person would lean over and say something to the other one, while rolling down the highway… the other person’s response would be, “I was JUST thinking that same thought.”  This morning’s example was when Sharon leaned forward and said, “I’m surprised at how comfortable I am just sitting here on the back of Honey, and watching the scenery go by.”  I had (literally) JUST been thinking to myself how grateful I was that Sharon’s normally go-go-go personality, was able to adjust to the hours and hours of mostly non-verbal togetherness.

In so many ways, Sharon and I are finding out how much we are meant to be together.  Even (not especially) when she’s not talking to me, or telling me one of her 15 minute stories in an attempt to answer a question I asked her that could’ve been answered with a yes or a no.

At 9am we were… very honestly and literally… coasting into the gas station in Amboy, a small blink and miss it town off the main freeway, on a portion of Historic Route 66 we’d decided to take that morning.  Obviously I hadn’t recovered from my episode with heat exhaustion the day before, and had miscalculated the mileage between our motel and the town.

The bad news was that we’d both been uncomfortably hunched over, leaning forward, in an attempt to be more aerodynamic for the previous 35 miles.  The good news was, as I jokingly said in a loud voice for the other customer at the station to hear… “What’s the big deal sweetheart, we could’ve made it at least another 500 yards.”

Sharon, as usual, bless her ever-lovin’ heart, was cheerful and optimistic about the disaster we so nearly avoided.  Her comment was, “It’s just another part of the adventure.”  Then she added, “But let's remember to make sure we always have plenty of water in the saddle bag from now on, ok?”  We’d not only coasted into the only gas station within 35 miles in either direction, but the only ANYTHING within 35 miles in either direction.  And as incredible as it may seem, we were both pretty casual and oh-la-de-da about it.  We are a match, yes we are.

The following picture doesn’t really do justice to how desolate and forboding the area was.  But it does give you a hint.


                        
Our next stop was in Ludlow, at town some of you may recognize from a couple of my previous stories.  There’s really nothing speacial about the place.  The ‘town’ consists of two gas stations, a diner/ café, and a motel de cockarouches (which I actaully stayed at one time).

The interesting thing about this town, is that every time I’ve been here, I’ve run into some one… well… interesting.  The       first time, it was the two elderly ladies that own and operate the café.  They look like they could be twins, but they’re not     even related.  This time the people of interest were:  Arkansas Herb, and a group of Harley riders.  The reason I put “riders”     in italics is because they proved the statement someone else had made to us early that day (or was it the day before… or before?).  

Anyway, what the guy had said was that when you’re out on the road, and you see another motorcyclist going across the Country… if they’re on a Harley, they’re usually towing it behind them on a trailer.  And if you see someone on a Honda… they’re usually towning a trailer behind them.







Herb was on his way home (to Arkansas) from Pismo Beach/ Morrow Bay, and the Harley guys were on their way to a group ride of some sort, down the road somewhere.


Our next stop was to celebrate Sharon’s accomplishment of reaching her (first of many I hope) 2,000-mile milestone.                I thought about pulling off the highway at the exact place we reached it, but decided to play it safe and sane (what’s this world coming to?!) and pulled into a rest stop instead.

                                                                         




Let’s hear it for Sharon… 1,996.9 miles under her belt, and she’s still smiling like she was on a short day ride.  Thank you Sharon, I love you.  Very very much.
                                     








Before we got to our next 70 mile stretch of road that wouldn’t have any gas, we were more careful.  We’d got lucky earlier that day, and neither of us wanted to push our luck.  Gatorade in the morning and beer in the afternoon was about the extent of the wild and craziness that both of us wanted for the remainder of our trip.  We were both starting to get a bit road weary.

So we stopped at the Buttonwillow Frosty, and asked a couple of the local patrons if there was gonna be any gas in McKittrick, about 15 miles up the road.  They said “No,” and then asked, “Where are ya headed?”  I told them Paso Robles, and they said, “If you’ve got enough gas in your tank, there’s gas in Taft, about another 20 miles past McKittrick.”

I looked at my map, and didn’t see the town, but both Sharon and I had a good feeling about the guys, and decided to trust them.  It was a good thing that I noticed a (very small) sign, just a few hundred yards up the road, when we took off.  It pointed left to Taft, not straight, the direction we were going to Paso Robles.  The locals we’d chosen to trust were obviously not familiar with the road to the coast.  If I hadn’t’ve noticed the sign, as I told Sharon… “We would’ve been fucked.”  Sorry, bad word.  Thor just had to raise his hand and say hi, one more time before this story is over.

Day 9 ended beautifully, with cocktails and barbaque at Bubba’s, where it seemed everyone in the place was celebrating their birthday.  The hostess had asked us when we came in, if we were celebrating anything, and we’d told her it was the last day of our 10-day honeymoon adventure ride on a motorcycle, but apparently that didn’t qualify as a reason to stand around our table and clap their hands and sing to us.  It was a 9 ½ hour day, and our second longest one-day mileage of 432, which brought our total to 2,224.

  
Day 10:  Monday – May 14                                                                                                                         

It’s only about 135 miles to Santa Cruz on Hwy 101… looks like we’ll have to do some serious zigging and zagging on the way home, to break the 2,500 mile barrier.  Or… we could go straight home and have the afternoon to relax and decompress, as Sharon likes to say.  We both have to work tommorrow, so we’ll probably go straight home.

We decided to break a few more traditions on our last day on the road.  First of all, we slept in; Ned ‘til after 6am, and Sharon ‘til around 8.  The next one was that we did some serious cuddling before getting on our feet.  Usually I’m anxious to hit the road, but since we’d decided to go straight home, and had less than three hours left on our adventure ride, so we both agreed it was time to… cuddle.  Yeah, that’s what we did.  We cuddled.


                                                        



The third broken tradition was that we packed up Honey and parked her next to the restaurant, instead of coming back after eating and loading her up.  Honey, like us… needs to lose some weight.  She needed two parking places to fit comfortably.







It was a quiet ride for us, going north on 101 through King City, Salinas, and Castroville.  We were both feeling a little meloncholy about our adventure being almost over.  Sharon helped, as she told me, “This isn’t the end of our honeymoon, it’s the beginning of the next part of it.”




As we approached Moss Landing, I asked her if she felt like stopping at The Whole Enchilada for a celebratory margarita.  Sharon’s metabolism likes tequila and there was no delay in her answer.  Ray, the owner of the establishment was there, so we chatted for a while and when we told him about our recent marriage, he gave us a lotto ticket.  Come on lottery… daddy (and mommy) need a new house.                                                    









Our last stop was at the post office, and I wasn’t about to break the tradition of taking Sharon’s picture in the parking lot, sitting on Honey.  I think this is version number four.
                                                                          






I was hoping there was going to be someone walking by, when we got home, and sure enough… someone was, and she took our picture.  There is a stereotypical attitude that seems to occur in a marriage when the couple is confined to a small space for an extended period of time… but instead of wishing that Sharon would “Get off my back,”  I find myself wishing that she will, “Stay there for the rest of our lives.”



                                      
1:15pm – Ten glorious days (and nine pretty good nights) and 2,366 miles.

THE END

Cheers to the end of this part, but also to the next part of our never ending honeymoon:

(California - Oregon – Montana – Wyoming – Utah – Nevada - California)


Sssh.  Sharon doesn’t know about it yet.

April 23, 2012

"Oysters, Fog, Curves, and Beer"


4/22/12
Marshall  (Oysters)
Point Reyes Lighthouse  (Fog)
and
4/23/12
Page Mill & Alpine Roads  (Curves)
Pescadero  (Beer)


Story by:  Ned Opdyke
nedopdyke@gmail.com




As per the typical routine, I got out of bed first… made (and drank) the coffee… made (and ate) the breakfast… packed and organized our gear… and verified our route.



The bottom-right corner of the map is San Rafael.  That’s about 15 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge (San Francisco was our starting point that morning).  The top-middle is Marshall, where we had lunch at an oyster bar.  And the left-middle is the Point Reyes Lighthouse.  From there back to San Fran, was our route for the day.










Initially, Sharon was not nearly as excited as I was about getting on the road, but after a few wake up songs to help her get in the mood, she was quickly ready to roll.  Cue the band Little Feat, and their song “Let it Roll.”





We met the other riders at a coffee shop a couple blocks from Golden Gate Park.

Back row:  Shannon, Todd, David, Ned, and Sharon.       Front row:  Jay and Laure.





Johnny and Patricia Delores where at the next table, and they provided a colorful photo-op.  I haven’t gone to their blog yet, but Johnny said it was called PD Parrot and they’d been written up in The New York Times.  He and his bird are very close.  And that’s all I’m going to say about that.








It was a little foggy when we took off around 10:30 and headed across the Golden Gate Bridge, but by the time we got to the Lucas Valley exit, just north of San Rafael, the sun was out and it was time to strip down to our tee-shirts and leathers.

I wish we would’ve had a chance to stop a few times to take pictures, as we traveled the next 20 miles or so, winding our way through some very pretty terrain between Hwy 101 and Hwy 1 at the southern tip of Tomales Bay.  We turned our bikes north on Highway 1 for another 10 miles and stopped at an oyster bar in Marshall.  Good times were had by all.


Thanks Sharon, this is a great photo!


                                                     



It was the first time I’ve had raw oysters.      




                   
                                 





                                   Sharon and Todd agreed… it was the day.










 
 
The Wo-Men

The Men

                                                                                   
                                                                              
The Motley Crew.


After lunch we headed south, the way we came.  First we lost Todd… he turned back east, the way we’d come.  He had a function to attend that afternoon.  I didn’t catch the details, but it sounded like he was getting together with about 10,000 of his closest friends at some sort of an outdoor music festival, or something like that.

The next of our group to separate from us was Jay.  I’m not sure exactly why he had to get back to The City so soon, but we were all glad.  He’s a real pain in the ass.  AH!  JUST KIDDING!!!  I know he can take the kidding.  Jay is really a great guy.

So now it was Shannon, Laure, David (pronounced Daveed), and Sharon and I.  We took Sir Francis Drake Blvd. out across the Point Reyes Peninsula, to the very most western tip of The Greater San Francisco Bay area, at the northern tip of Drakes Bay.  It was foggy and cold, but we were troupers, and roughed the brutal weather conditions like true soldiers (it wasn’t until later that the girls got tired and cranky).

Shannon and I walked down the 300 steps to the lighthouse, and had a very special bonding moment, listening to the ‘park ranger-docent’ educate us on the history of the lighthouse.  Laure, Sharon, and David were faithfully awaiting us when we returned, and we all strolled back to our bikes and happily headed back inland, where the temperatures were substantially warmer.  But only for a few short miles.

In the brief time that it had taken us to ride out to the lighthouse and back, the fog had moved in with gusto.  Earlier it had been 75 degrees and clear blue skies.  Now it was miserable.  For those of you who’ve never ridden a motorcycle in the cold fog… you’re lucky.  Because of the humidity, the wind chill factor is compounded exponentially.  Instead of tee-shirts, we were all wearing every single layer of clothing we had brought.

When we stopped to confirm that we weren’t gonna have that beer we’d talked about earlier, I overheard the cutest pitiful whines and complaints coming from the girls on the other bikes.  Sharon showed me her metal, as she giggled and asked me not to say anything to tease them.

Sharon is good for me.  I’ve always been the kind of guy who LOVES to tease people.  In high school we called it E.S.  Endless Shit.  In our group of friends, if we weren’t flipping each other ‘grief’… well… we weren’t having fun.  Over the years, I’m slowly learning to behave more like an adult, and Sharon is helping me tremendously.  She does it with the consummate taste and decorum of a high class and well-educated lady.  And she does it at the same time she’s talking about catching and gutting a salmon in the back woods of Alaska, and throwing it on the barbeque while it’s still wiggling.  That’s my wife… a high class lady and a rugged outdoorswoman.

Getting back to 101, there was a construction work delay that caused a traffic jam that took us over an hour to get through, so we got home exhausted, cold, and very happy around 6:30pm.  It was just like Todd’s shirt said:  Today is the Day.


Part 2:  

The next day Sharon and I had a very pleasant breakfast, and said our good-byes until we got together again the following weekend.  Being married to a woman who lives 85 miles away is an interesting experience for me.  I don’t think I could’ve done it when I was younger and full of my oats and vinegar.  But now, as my gray hair begins to thin, and my joints move with greater discomfort and with less range of motion… I feel it actually helps our relationship.

We are both very secure in the love we have for each other, and the time we spend apart is getting to be more like an opportunity for us to process our lives and futures together, and to anticipate the re-unification of our physical bodies… rather than a time of sorrow and loneliness.  Plus… both of us are very demanding and not very easy to be around all the time, so it’s probably a good thing we aren’t living together 24/7, or we might kill each other.  KIDDING!!!  See… that sarcastic foundation of my upbringing just will not go away without a fight!

Ok, so after breakfast and our good-byes, I took off for Santa Cruz, and she took off for her work.  As I started down southbound Highway 280, I decided that even though it looked cold and foggy on the coast, I wanted to go home a different route than I normally take (280 to 85 to 17).  I’d never been on Page Mill Road before, so just like Todd’s shirt says, “Today is the Day.”










About half way up to the summit and Skyline Blvd., I saw one of Honey’s favorite signs and decided to have her pose for a picture.  The little black curly and curvy roads on the map are the ones that Honey and I aim for, whenever possible.














Honey is a real poser, so only a mile or so up the road, she made me stop again.  That’s Santa Clara Valley and you can see the big while hangars at Moffet Field there on the left.








When we crossed Skyline Blvd, and started back down the other side towards the coast, the road’s name changed to Alpine.  Page Mill and Los Altos Hills is very beautiful, but the vast and native scenery that treated me now, was even better.

The night before, after our Pt. Reyes ride, Sharon had mentioned that while we were going through Lucas Valley, she had seen a few homesteads, and had dreamed of a way and a day that she and I could live in a private secluded home, off the beaten path, alone with each other for the majority of the time.  She loves me and I am a very lucky man.  Anyway… as I was heading down Alpine Road towards Pescadero, I stopped and took a picture of a house on a hill that reminded me of her description of her walking dream.


 






In the old days (or to be more accurate the old daze), I wouldn’t have even thought once about NOT stopping at Duarte’s Restaurant/ Bar in Pescadero for a cold one.  Times have changed quite a bit for me over the last few years, so I had to think several times before I decided to stop.










One last, quick stop to document the mustard field just outside of Pescadero., before getting home and putting this story together.             I hope you enjoyed it.                   See you soon!



THE END

April 9, 2012

"Sharon's Shake Down Ride"


4/7/12
About the Author
Ned Opdyke nedopdyke@gmail.com

As with all my stories, this one is primarily for me. As I grow older than I ever dreamed I'd be, I've begun to realize that if I don't make an effort to document the important things about me… some of my thoughts… and some of the things that I believe are important about me, that there is a very good chance that after the people that have had the opportunity to get to know me are gone, so will I be.

I always wished I could figure out how to make money off my charm and good looks, but alas… my innate sincerity has always kept me from being able to take advantage of people. As with the empathetic abilities I got from mother, I call it a blessing and a curse. I have always been very grateful to my parents for instilling a foundation of respect in me. I don't always make it obvious, but I really do care about people.

When I was a child, I decided I wanted to be different from everyone else. Something inside me told me that I was special. Most likely it was (and still is) my ego fighting back my human insecurities and self-doubts. Whatever the reason, it is my wish to be remembered. Mostly the good parts of me, but I also want to be remembered for all the different aspects of my personality. The good, the bad, and the ugly, as they say.

This story is written basically as a first draft, and as such, there will be rambling sentences, bad grammar, way too many commas, quotation marks, parenthesis, and past-present-future tenses all jumbled together, into the same paragraph, and sometimes even in the same sentence. I write as I speak… open mouth, insert foot. Usually I don't know what I'm gonna say, until after I hear myself say it.

                                    Copyright: 4/8/12; all writes (and wrongs) reserved

Saturday April 7, 2012

5am - As usual, my eyes cracked open well before the sun peeked itself over the horizon. It doesn’t seem to matter what time I go to sleep the night before, I’m almost always awake and ready to start the day, before most people would even dream of. Or should I say before they would stop dreaming?

I slipped quietly out of bed, not to awaken my sleeping bride next to me, and started my routine. Coffee comes first - my body’s digestive system has become accustomed to this elixir and in order for me to properly and fully eliminate my wastes I have found this to be almost a necessity.

For those of you who are not familiar with my motorcycle adventure stories, I suppose I should tell you now before we go any further… I use Honey (my motorcycle) and our road trips as vehicles for the story, but I tend to wander… around the country we’re riding in, and in the topics that I write about. It’s all part of my master plan, to leave documented evidence in this world, to prove what a character I was. I mean am. And hopefully will be, for a few more years.

So… today’s routine included a few household chores (sweeping and mopping the floors), so I decided to cut my morning visit to the gym down to just the 10 minute soak in the hot tub, and a shower. Usually I’ll ride the stationary bike for 20 minutes and then either do my stretching and rehab exercises (for my knees, lower back, and shoulders) or work out with free weights for another 20 or 30 minutes. This is another daily activity that I’ve found helps tremendously with my aging body’s ability to get through the rest of the day with a few less complaints.

7am – Back from the gym, I disrobed and slipped back into my sleeping wife… I mean back into our bed. I must remember to make my attempts at curtailing my typical brand of humor for Sharon. She is a classy lady, and has made it very clear on several occasions that her preference is that I keep my stories from slipping into the category of bathroom or otherwise off color topics. I, on the other hand, have repeatedly expressed to her that although her wishes are important to me… if she wanted to marry a totally proper and refined gentleman, well… she shouldn’t have married me. So that being said… after an hour of cuddling, I told her it was time for her to rise now.

Sharon had done a few semi-lengthy rides with Honey and I already, but we hadn’t broken the 300-mile mark yet, and I wanted her to spend an entire day in the saddle before we left for our Arizona trip, and potentially found ourselves in the position of having to break the 400-mile (or more) barrier. Needless to say, as with almost every circumstance I’ve experienced with my Precious and Beautiful Wife, she proved herself to be more than worthy and capable on this day.

9am – As Honey was purring in the driveway, and we were gearing up in our leathers, I popped my symbolic ‘morning beer’ and offered Sharon the first sip. This was a big deal for me. Almost always, I start each day with one cold beer (Bud in a can of course), but this was the first time I was going to be sharing it with anyone else. Ever since I began doing these road trips, about 8 eight years ago, my dream had always been to find someone to sit behind me, and enjoy the experience of the open road with me. Thank you Universe, for bringing Sharon and I together.

9:15am – Our initial communion competed… all gear properly stowed and secured… I threw my leg over my mare (Honey, not Sharon), braced my legs, leaned forward slightly, and stuck out my elbows as the sign to my cowgirl, that it was time for her to mount up (on Honey, not me).
“Oh wait Ned, look at this,” I heard, instead of the gentle grasp of her hands on my shoulders. I relaxed my stance, and looked back towards her. She was securing the straps on the saddlebag. I’d forgotten to properly secure it my self. Instead of feeling embarrassed about my mistake, I had a feeling of warmth and gratitude spread throughout my body, that I had a partner with me for the first time, who not only wanted to be here with me to share my love for these road trips, but was a valuable and trustworthy addition to the trip as well.
As we pulled out the driveway, and headed out to face the day, I leaned back and thanked her, and asked her to please help me out each time we were getting ready to leave after a stop, and double check both saddlebags and tail-bag for us. Her response was a like a glorious and beautiful song to my ears. “Oh good, I like to have responsibilities.” What a gal. What…a…gal.

9:30am – Our first stop was just down the highway at the Aptos Post Office. I live in Santa Cruz, but it’s a temporary abode, and I wanted to have an Aptos address. Aptos holds a very special place for me in my heart. It will always be my (second) home. La Selva Beach is my first. After claiming my mail, I took a picture of Sharon on Honey. The very first picture I ever took of Sharon was sitting on Honey outside this post office, and I thought it would make a cute tradition of sorts, to have a series of pictures of her in the same pose. Aint’t she cute? Sharon ain’t bad either is she?


10:30am - Our first stop was for a poddy break. Just so you know… Chular (south of Salinas, north of King City) doesn’t have a gas station nor any other place to urinate legally and for free. I saw a school, so I tugged on Honey’s reins and pointed her in that direction. As we rounded the corner, I saw some firemen working on their truck, and decided to ask them if they could help us. They did. They gave us directions to the back of the firehouse, and on how to get inside.

After we completed our mission, I took us back to the front of the building and pulled up alongside the truck, and stuck out my (freshly washed) hand. “I just wanted to thank you for your help, for what you guys do for all of us, and by the way… it would mean a lot to me, if you and your friends would take a moment, and stand next to my wife so I can take your picture.

They were very amiable and graciously agreed. They asked about our destination for the day, and after finding out we were going to Coalinga (not pronounced Co-a-linga as I had thought, but Ca-linga), they recommended that we stop at Harris Ranch, a well-known steak house. I’d heard about the place, and had always wanted to check it out. Nice guys. And cute too.


11:15am – Just before we left the freeway (Historic El Camino Real, Hwy 101), we stopped for gas. We’d skipped our morning meal, and decided we’d snack on the PB&J’s that I’d packed before we left. I’d thought they would be our lunch, but a nice, thick steak at a world famous steak house was just too tempting to pass up.

This is where Sharon got a taste of what it’s like with me on the road. After gassing up, I asked her where she’d like me to park, so we could eat. I pointed at a curb just next to the gas pump, and she frowned and said, “Can we please get away from the gas station?” I easily agreed, and pulled around the pumps and parked next to the building, where there was a metal picnic table. I’d thought she meant she wanted to get away from the pumps.

As we were eating our sandwiches she looked at me and said, “Next time we stop, can we please make it someplace that’s not so hideous?” I laughed and almost choked on my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “You think THIS is hideous? You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet!” I thought about taking a picture of the cigarette butts at our feet and the rusty metal table, but decided it wasn’t necessary. When we do find something that is really hideous, I’ll be sure to include a photo for your enjoyment.

1pm – We arrived at Harris Ranch and found a parking place right next to the front door. It was pretty amazing, the parking lot was about 25 acres, and it was almost completely full. I was worried about not having reservations, but when I saw the size of the dining room(s), I figured it would be ok. When the hostess took our name and gave us the little remote notification device that would vibrate, and flash at us when our table was ready, and said, “It will only be about 15 minutes,” I relaxed.  Yeah 15 minutes… right. After about 45 minutes it became obvious to us that most likely, her superior(s) have instructed the hostesses to tell everyone the same thing, no matter what the real wait time is.

The good part was that when we sat down at our table, we told the waiter we didn’t have to look at the menu, we’d already had a chance to decide while we were waiting for our table. Sharon had a chicken salad sandwich… A CHICKEN SALAD SANDWICH?!?! We were at a world famous steak house, and she orders chicken?!?!. That’s my girl… just like me… not typical at all.

I ordered the Big Bull Burger. Two quarter pound patties, two slices of thick cut bacon, two onion rings, two slices of cheddar cheese, and all the condiments you could think of. And fries. The burger was one of the best I’ve ever had in my life. The fries were probably the worst. Just wanted to let you know, in case you go there. Don’t bother with the fries.

3pm - After our obligatory visit to their bakery, and two delicious white chocolate covered oreo cookies with sprinkles, we got back on Honey, and headed back. So far we’d gone 165 miles in about 6 hours. If we were gonna make it home before dark, we were gonna hafta boogie.


Hwy 198 from Coalinga back towards 101 is one of the best riding roads I’ve ever been on. I’d done the route a few times before, and it was one of the reasons I’d decided on taking this ride with Sharon. Just outside of Priest Valley, we stopped at one of the road signs we’d noticed a few hours previously going the other direction. It’s a great sign. Don’tchya think?


4pm – Our gas situation wasn’t ideal, so instead of taking Hwy 25 north towards Hollister, we continued back out to 101. Just as we were ready to jump back on the freeway, we stopped and posed with a couple of caballeros. Honey likes to have her picture taken with her relatives. I pointed out to Sharon when we got home, that if she’d just taken one step to her left, it would’ve framed the picture must better. That gave me an opportunity to learn something about Sharon. If you want her to take a picture, let her take the picture from wherever she wants to stand.

Just a few miles north to King City for the gas, and I remembered that there was a small road that would take us back to Hwy 25. It was getting late in the afternoon, but I much prefer not to backtrack on my road trips, and the minor detour would get us back on the loop route I’d chosen before we left. It was a beautiful decision. I’d never been on the road before, which is something I’m always looking for when I choose the routes for my rides, and… it gave us a chance to see what I decided to call, “Mt. Vulva.” I wouldn’t’ve noticed it, if it weren’t for my lovely classy wife tapping me on the shoulder, and asking me, “What does that look like to you?”


God I love my wife. She is the perfect combination of classy elegance and bar room bitch.
5pm – Our last stop was at the entrance to The Pinnacles. It is the (illegal) resting place of one of my brother’s ashes, and both of my parents’. A quiet moment of respect and reflection for Jon, and Jack & Celia.

7pm – Home safe and sound. 345 miles in just under 10 hours. We’ll have to do a lot better when it comes time for our trip to Arizona, but it was a perfect shake down ride and I hope you enjoyed my story. The End.

August 16, 2011

"A Lot of Firsts... and One Last"




By: Ned Opdyke
nedopdyke@gmail.com
8/15/11

Friday 8/5/11

8am - Honey and I, getting ready and packed for work, and then our trip to San Francisco immediately after.

4:45pm - My last tour group had a newlywed couple in it. A coincidence… I think knot.

Side note: I've been working as a tour guide at The Mystery Spot for the last three months, and I'm loving it! I've always wanted to be world famous, and this job is giving me that opportunity. Here is the current list of all the different Countries that my guests have told me they're from, that I've collected so far:

Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Finland, Germany, Somalia, Afghanistan, Kuwait, Russia, Moldova, Kahsakstan, Peru, Macedonia, Panama, Guatemala, Mexico, Holland, Japan, China, Philippines, Viet Nam, Taiwan, India, Iran, Columbia, Saudi Arabia, Nepal, England, Canada, Australia, France, Korea, Belarus, Ethiopia, Switzerland, Romania, Greece, Palestine, Israel, Austria, Portugal, Yugoslavia, Yemen, Syria, Laos, Lebanon, Sudan, Italy, Singapore, Malaysia, Argentina, Chili, Spain, Dubai, Bolivia, Pakistan, Cuba, Belgium, Eritrea, Czech Republic, Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Ukraine, 63 and counting…

I've always wanted to be able to stand up in front of people and make them laugh. Now, not only am I getting to do that, but I'm actually getting paid to do it. Not very much, but it's better than what I'd been earning for the previous several years… which is nothing. Yes, I'm one of the many general contractor casualties from the recent economic downturn.

7:15pm - Arrived at Sharon's home at ___ Baker St., in San Francisco. Country Mouse is in the City!
Sharon took to me to 'Alamo Square,' one of her favorite short-distance walking destinations, and the location of her sacred spot, a two foot by two foot square piece of ground that holds more than a little importance to her. She says there's something about that exact area of turf that gives her a very special feeling of peace and serenity.

The connection between Sharon and I has been mysteriously strong right from the very first moment we set eyes on each other, and so… half serious, and half jokingly… I asked her if I could try to find the area in the park that made her feel this way. After traversing the better part of the open area, I zeroed in on an area facing southwest. I stood for a while, and studied the terrain and the views of the City, and then walked about 25 feet, directly to a spot that was drawing my attention for some unknown reason. I turned back towards Sharon and asked her, "Am I close?"
She looked at me incredulously and said in a calm, yet slightly quivering voice, "You're standing exactly on it."

Here's a view from her rooftop, where you can see part of Alamo Square.


We cuddled on the couch and watched "The Iron Giant" on her TV, and then nestled ourselves into her pint sized bed for a night of semi-sleep.

Saturday 8/6/11

6am - I'm up and at 'em. Sharon… not so much. She's been a night owl and therefore a late riser for the last several years. I plan to do my best to adjust my sleeping pattern as much as possible, and she's indicated she's planning to do the same. I'm confident we'll find a happy medium. So far, our sleeping pattern/ habits seem to be the biggest issue to resolve. In fact, I think it's the ONLY issue we've found so far that needs any type of adjustment whatsoever. It's almost spooky how similar we seem to be in so many of our preferences and personality traits.

7am - I took a few pictures of her home… these small placards were hiding behind a breadboard that was hanging on the side of her refrigerator. Things people put on their fridge speak volumes.


Sharon has personality, there is no fucking doubt about that. She's a high-class lady, hiding behind a rambunctious, rowdy, bawdy, full of life woman. Or is it the other way around?

9am - Off and away. Our first adventure ride together… her first adventure ride period… and my first adventure ride with someone else sitting on Honey behind me. The first picture was taken on her sidewalk outside her apartment, the second one at our first stop in Livermore… as the temperature was starting to rise.


We took a wrong turn leaving Livermore, but it turned out to be a very nice sidetrack, which allowed us to watch a model airplane dog-fight between a WWI Bi-plane and a WWII P-52.

1pm - After going due east, across the Central Valley, we turned south at Angels Camp, on one of my favorite highways in California, #49. One of these days I'm gonna do the entire length of that highway, from Oakhurst just south-east of Fresno, to Vinton just north-west of Reno. The Sierra Nevada Mountains are sacred to me, similar perhaps to Sharon's spot in SF, but encompassing a slightly larger land-mass.

While we were stripping off a few more layers of clothing in the warm mountain air, Sharon mentioned that her ex-husband might be in town, getting set up for a music presentation. He works as a promoter of some kind, for different groups, and was in charge of putting together a 'festival' right there in Angels Camp the following weekend. We rode out to the Fairgrounds, but we found it deserted, so Ron will have to wait to see Biker Babe - Lady Sharon another time.

Unless he reads this story however… J


As we were leaving Angels Camp, I FINALLY saw another biker giving me "MY" wave. For you non-bikers out there… it's common for members of our 'brotherhood' to put our hands out as an acknowledgment of camaraderie as we pass each other going in opposite directions. About two or maybe three years ago, I started using a distinctive gesture as my 'signature wave.' Up until the moment we were leaving Angels Camp… I had NEVER seen anyone else use it. The excitement I felt, and am now trying to describe is a perfect example of one aspect of my personality. "Simple things for simple people." And/ or… "Yes, I am very easily amused."


3pm - Groveland. Joe, the civil engineer waiter took our order and served us our burgers at "The Iron Door," the oldest continually operated saloon in California. This summer marked the 107th consecutive year that this establishment has been open for business. That's every single day of every week, of every year, for one hundred and seven years. That's (about) 37,664 days in a row. It kinda puts Cal Ripken's record to shame, don't-chya think? ;-).

4pm - Sharon's first visit to Rainbow Pool. I've been enjoying this swimming hole, on the South Fork of The Tuolumne River, for 41 years now, but watching Sharon jump off the rock ledge visible behind us in this picture is one of the highlights.

The pictures below where taken about six years apart, and were (obviously) not planned. Interesting isn't it… how similar we are…



5pm - A leisurely and peacefully quiet swim in the lake at the end of a private dirt road, where we stayed at a friend's home about one hour from the entrance to Yosemite. They should make that place a National Park or something. It has lots of trees, and mountains, and waterfalls, and other really pretty stuff.

9pm - In bed before dark; sound asleep not long after that. Tomorrow was gonna be a big day.
Sunday 8/7/11

6am - Ned up. 7am - Sharon up. 8am - Food. 8:30am - Off and Away.

9am - First time for Sharon in Yosemite. How could someone live in San Francisco for over 20 years, and NOT visit the most beautiful place in the world? I didn't have to ask her… she told me before I had the chance… she said she was waiting to go there with me. Ah… doesn't it just melt your heart? It doesn't matter if it does or not, it sure melts mine.


10:30am - I wasn't positive exactly where or when I was going to ask her, but I was fairly sure it was going to be at "Tunnel View." She had absolutely no idea it was coming, and was caught totally off-guard.

The best part (at least for me) was when she said, "YES!"


Noon - Glacier Point. We picked a perfect weekend; the weather was gorgeous, and there was more water in the falls (Vernal and Nevada in picture below) than at any other time in history, for this date.

Both of us were pretty much in shock, good thing we have pictures to remind us what we saw.


2pm - We had a picnic lunch in Crane Flat, and then decided to forgo the ride up to the High Country for another trip. We decided to go to another swimming hole instead.

4pm - This is me taking the leap at Diana Falls. Pretty appropriate, I'd say. As funny as this may sound, asking Sharon to marry me was very similar to making this jump… they were both as easy as falling off a rock!

6pm - Quiet conversation with my old friend and Sharon's new friend Ambria, and a nice meal.

10pm - My fiance treated me to an exquisite full body massage. I was already happy, even before she got to the end.

Monday 8/8/11

7am - Both of us actually got out of bed at the same time! That's another first!

9am - Breakfast in downtown Greeley Hill.

Noon - Ice cream in Escalona.

2:30pm - Back home to Baker Street.

4~9pm - Cuddling with Sharon and peanut M&M's (see: candyonthecouch.blogspot.com/).

10pm - Retired to her miniature bed for another restful night of semi-sleep.

Tuesday 8/9/11

6am - Ned is up and at 'em. One quick cup of coffee, and was on the road by 6:30.

7am - I stopped north of Los Altos Hills, to put on my sunglasses as I was coming out of the fog, and parked in front of a couple signs. Literally and figuratively.


10am - Home, unpacked, freshened up, dressed and off to work! What a weekend!
775 miles for me and Honey, and 605 for Sharon's first adventure ride. Oh, by the way... she did great. She was born to be my motorcycle mama.

Here's a picture of the Lake at Tokosaben, the place we stayed at near Yosemite. Can't you just hear the silence?!

… I bet you thought I'd forgotten about the 'one last' part of my story… It was my proposal.