The Breakfast Club: MOA Rally 2015 [page 5]

Thursday, July 16, 2015

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Alberto’s tale… DAY FOUR - BILLINGS

It was a great relieve to se Randy arrive safe and sound. I learned, he kind of brought onto himself. Imagine, knowing that you have 275 miles to go and start the journey by 1:00 pm. Good reason he had, still pressing the riding is, to me, not a good idea. Randy, consider this a tongue lashing from your buddies that care. Enough.

The boys, that is Chris and Randy, celebrated until the wee hours of the night. Methinks that the special Whiskey is a goner. I am certain that they drank it all in the name of Major WWWoble. Every gulp, saying, salud Compadre!

I went to bed at my scheduled daily routine. By 9:30 pm I was history…under the sweet talk of the boys celebrating.

No kimono dragons this morning! Thank goodness, another episode like yesterday and I am certain to need intervention or be institutionalized.

5:00 am. Quiet as I could be, went about making coffee and loading my motorcycle. Chris got up… Back to bed. Randy got up… Back to bed. What is it with the girls?! Can’t take a night of late carousing and be ready for work in the early morning? Okay, okay. Stop bitching Alberto. This is vacation, remember?

Back to sleep they went. I busied myself with making coffee, meaning, Chris had set it up last night and gave me explicit instructions on how to do it: “Alberto, this is the ON button… Press it”.

After three days at chris’ place my motorbike needed re-loading. I used the hour to complete the task. Just in time for everyone to wake up.

You’d think that waking up would lead straight to breakfast. Well, not at the Weld household. You have to earn it first. Chris has had a bird-house project from some time. For this he really needs help. This house-bird is on a tree some 30 feet up in the air. Climbing a step-ladder should do it… But that high?

Randy and Alberto came handy. We held the ladder steady, Chris climb up on it and one hour later the task was done. One hour? Yes, you read correctly, when the three stooges go at something, it does take a while. You should have seen us running around the tree with a hammer and a crow bar, looking up, looking down. Debating on the best way to get up there.

We left the house close to 8:00 am on our way to JJ’s Cafe. Kid you not, one amazing hut a short distance from Chris’ house. Chris had a pancake he could not finish. I had two eggs and toast, a huge locally made toast. Randy had, for lack of better words, a lot of food! And mind you, he is a picky eater. His plate went back empty.

On the road heading North at 9:00 am. Kinda late if you ask me. By my own device I’d have been 100 miles north of here by now. But, I ain’t leading, the Capt’n is.

It was decided, that since I had never been to Crater Lake, we should go there. This is the way it happened. Old Station to Weeds, cut East on 97, by Klamath Lake (by the way, Klamath because of the Klamath Indian Tribe of long ago) and straight to Crater Lake.

Not knowing, at JJs I had said, “hey guys, no need to accommodate me on this jaunt, we will be on the road for two weeks, surely there will be lots to see - no need to detour on my account”. Randy was clear, “you have not seen it, you must see it”. For a man of few words he got the point across and received no arguments. He was right. crater Lake is a must see. Impressive sight and history. We had lunch at the lodge, good value. We did the mandatory photographic activity and an hour later peeled off on our way to Roseburg, Oregon to meet with Harvey (related to Chris via his wife Pat).

You all must understand this: Oregon simply has amazing scenery, and top quality motorcycle roads. California may be rich, technology, Hollywood, SF and all you care to mention. It all pales to the Oregon roads (and to top it… No sales tax! - but, full of Oregonians, which are as loony as Californians).

The late riding and carousing until the wee hours took a toll on Randy. Waking up early only compounded the problem. Randy looks like he is at the end of his energy supply. I kept coming up on him on my bike thinking that something was wrong with his bike. Nope. Bike is okay, Randy is not.

We are now at Harvey Brooks house. We will spend the night here. Harvey is the fourth members in this adventure. Harvey rides a Honda motorcycle… I think it is a King Road. I do not know much about different bikes, but this one has a dead give-away-feature: It is huge! And Harvey brags about having dropped the motorbike way too many times at various parking lots. I think Harvey will make a great friend for me. I already feel that special drop-the-bike kinship with him. (I have just learned that It is a Honda Gold Wing).

Harvey took us around his property. 2 plus acres of paradise. Kid-you-not. Panoramic view of a state preserve across the Unpqua River. Sandy beach, also river pebbles. Tall trees at the river’s edge. One of them has a long rope with a tiny round seat tied to it. Yes, you are getting the idea: Alberto pulls the rope up the slope, seats, and…. Weeeee! - 20 some feet up in the air toward the downslope of river. The other two are celebrating asking if it is time to grow up while snapping pictures for proof positive that I am an idiot. “This everybody has to see!”.

Randy has taken a nap… is ready for dinner?

The Brooks household is a happy with a there-is-room-for-every-body-here attitude. Dinner, without being fancy, sure had that family-warmth that has little to do with the food and everything to do with the manner of invitation. Spaghetti, microwaved corn on the cob (a Brooks specialty), salad. It was all delicious, and… Pie. Lots of all kinds of pies. These people are pie-eaters with home-made ice-cream. Diet? Lose weight? Are you kidding me!? Surely you jest! And Rosita, the primary perpetrator. For those with a bit of curiosity: Freshly picked just this morning, blue berry and black berry pie with home made vanilla ice cream. Go ahead, eat your heart out!

It is now 9:15 pm… I am mental-mush. Good night. Chris and Alberto head for the garage where Harvey has set two air mattresses, and Randy goes to Siberia where he has set up his tent.