The Breakfast Club: MOA Rally 2015 [page 17]

Sunday, July 26, 2015

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Alberto’s tale… DAY FOURTEEN - BILLINGS

Today we head home. Late, as far as I am concern, but there is no hurry.

I was genuinely saddened to see some go away. Will I see Joe again? Linda, Dan, John, les, Russell, Marvin? There is some possibility if some of them go to the BMWMOA in Hamburg, New York, next year, that is if I go there as well.

With Joe, there is a higher possibility. We have exchanged data being that we both would like to take a truly adventurous ride… USA to South America, we are willing to go…. Antofagasta? Patagonia? Tierra del Fuego? Who knows. But, the possibility is there. We both believe that a journey of this nature is safer with two people. Not too many have the time or the desire. The fact that we both have these in common makes it a unique match. We shall see what the future brings… So let that fruit hang there and ripen.

Decamping happen with great speed. Everyone is busy doing their own thing, as it should be. Some, Harvey, dedicate themselves to cleaning the grounds and leave it as clean as we found them. Others check for left-behind items (none). Swiftly, before you realize, engines start and to the wind we all scatter. Quietly, inside my head, I wish them a safe journey. I will not miss any of them, but I will remember them for sure!

I will make a brief mention of Randy. He has opted to return solo to the Bay Area. He has not told us which way he is going nor when will he depart. All that can be said is, “fair well Randy”.

Harvey, Chris and Alberto. The three of us need gas… So we go get it. Hit the road, highway 90 heading East, basically the same way when we came to Billings.

We have decided to go to Oregon to the town of Madres where there is an airplane museum Chris is itching to see. This sacrifices my Grand Tetons route. I had told Chris, “no problem, this journey has been just fine for me and we can go where ever you want…. Madres is fine”.

But first, breakfast. It is 9:00 am and we are hungry. We hit the road, and Alberto also hits The road! Hmmm…. This needs explaining.

We decided breakfast will be in the town of Big Timber. While trying to locate a country restaurant, Chris stops to confer with us. I went to stop by his side when… My bike, barely touches his side bag and… Yep! Sideways I go. Not just sideways, I go sideways between Chris’ bike and a telephone pole. There I was, on my right side, with a telephone pole between my bike and myself and my foot pinned under my bike! I could not pull my foot and all 640 pounds of bike are resting on my right leg (well, really my foot) pressing harder and harder. I cannot move and I am in serious pain. “Help! Help!… Hurry, this hurts!” I was truly hurting, but unable to do anything about it. The only presence of mind I had was to use the STOP button and kill the engine which was racing.

I hear from Harvey and Chris coming to my aid. Chris giving instructions to someone , “lift on the handle bar on that side”. I see a pair of large hands grab the handle bars and at the same time someone is lifting me by the under arms. The foot won’t come out. “You need to lift the bike more vertical!” Finally, my foot comes out and the arms pull be from the motorcycle.

Once on my feet, I commence the process of assessment. Is there damage? And how extensive? First a little weight on the foot. It’s okay. The toe. Feels numb, but no pain. Conclusion: nothing broken. Next, reassure my companions, that there is no need for worry. ” I am okay. Truly, l there is no damage other than a little pain”. I realize then the man whose large hands had pull the bike upright. A big guy! He had stopped on his pick up truck at the sight of the motorbike down with a rider under it. Without hesitation he went to aid. Country folk, do first - ask questions later! Thank you stranger Or should I says “who was that masked man?” Whomever, thank you again.

Chris and Harvey are now clearly disappointed at themselves. Imagine, Alberto commits a massive lulu, we are talking award winning possibility. Neither, has the presence of mind to pull a camera and record the winning crap of the day. That, ladies and gentlemen, is worse than me falling from the bike… Shame on you boys!! Shame on you!!

The stranger gave Chris and Harvey instructions where we could have breakfast. I was fine, a little tender on the right foot, but fine.
Reassurance to my companions came from me by asking “do we know we’re to eat?” To the restaurant we went without much concern.

It took about half hour, while eating breakfast, that the numbness dissipated and I regain full feeling on my foot. I am certain that later or tomorrow it will get tender, but that is expected after the trauma.

After breakfast, we headed looking for the next highway to take. Highway 89. Some 10 miles later, we turn onto a small county road. Poor paving should have been an indication. But, none of us took the hint from the road. A little further the bad paving becomes dirt and little later into gravel. Hmmm, this does not look good. Chris, keeps forward. Five miles later, it is evident that this “short cut” is only in distance, surely not in time. We are reduced to 30 mph max.

I am not happy. I am actually very tense, so tense that I am pulling my shoulders up. Any higher and you will not be able to see my head, it will be a straight line shoulder to shoulder, no head!

However, for those that know me, when receiving lemons… Make lemonade. This is my first gravel experience on this bike. It is a heavy puppy, so I might as well start to handle the event smartly. First of all: accept that I might go down. We are going slowly, so no big issue. Relax. Relax and let the bike run gently. Do not accelerate, do not decelerate… Just steady. I short order, with this new attitude I am feeling better, relaxing and managing to enjoy this “first”. In time I will learn enough about gravel riding.

After another 10 miles or so, we had to stop because the gravel had shaken the bikes so much that one of my mirrors had come loose. It is spinning like a propeller. We stopped, Chris pulls out his tools and promptly solves the issue. He, feeling successful at fixing my bike, that he announces: “Gentlemen, I sincere apologize for this road, the maps shows it as paved! My most sincere apologies”. Huh? Harvey and I pretty much said: “Do you really believe that such a wimpy apology will get out of the out-house? Fat chance, bucko! Try harder and with much more sentiment, to see if we accept the apology”. The ribbing went on for a while. We had a good time at Chris’ expense.

Hardly, a rounding of the road goes by when the road becomes paved, and easy riding again. Thank goodness this happens after “the grand apology”. You are forgiven Chris.

Hence forth we rode to the Ringling town where we stopped for a rest of coffee and soda. Continued onto Towsend with the intention of having lunch at Avon.

Avon has a special feeling for us, here on our way to Billings, we stopped for breakfast encountering about the neatest server ever. Some lady on her 60s with the ability to chit-chat you to death. But real fun chit-chat. We had decided to pay her a second visit, sadly she was not there, but her replacement got the full brunt of these three gizzers, (well only two… Chris and Harvey ). It started going downhill when Harvey remarks to the new attendant, “you are not the same old lady as before!”. That was it. She replies, “well, I am sorry not to be the OLD lady, sorry to be so inadequate”. That was it, it was all jesting from then on. In the end, we had a good time and she also enjoyed the three gizzers. I have no doubt that we won her over.

At this juncture commences the final ride for the day.l. Missoula is the target which we go to in earnest. We ride looking at the sky which threatens rain and for sure wind. We are but 90 miles away. Piece of cake.

Motel Six. Showered, cleaned up and rested. This has been quite a day. We are satisfied and ready to head on tomorrow onto Idaho via Lolo Pass and later on the day onto Oregon.

That is it.

Tired but satisfied.

Bye.