“C’mon honey, just one more time. Please? I promise it’ll be quick.”

Sleeping Beauty knows me too well to believe it will be quick, but, being the good sport she is, she nonetheless agreed.

It’s really her fault anyway. At the conclusion of The Epic Ride, I parked Rain Cloud Follows, with a promise that we were done with long distance riding for the season. We covered some ground this year, and to tell the truth, towards the end, I was a bit burned out. And if I was a bit burned out from driving all those miles, I can only imagine how Fiona felt, sitting on the back and staring at my big, dumb ol‘ head day after day.

I was OK with the decision, figuring I’d use the down time to repair the damage suffered at Wounded Cloud, Wyoming when I stupidly let Rain Cloud take a nap. Motorcycles are notorious for wanting to rest, and the natural resting position of any two wheeled vehicle is on it’s side.

Rain Cloud Down at Wounded Cloud

I ordered some replacement parts to fix the damaged ones, and life slowly returned to a somewhat normal pace.

Normal, until her cousin Colleen called. Colleen’s boyfriend owns a beautiful yellow Ducati 998, and we’ve always said one day we’d go for a ride. That day came Wednesday, as they were out riding, and wanted us to meet them. Never one to turn down an offer like that, we were off in an instant. We met at a gas station, and headed for one of my favorite California roads, the excellent Angeles Crest.

I’d never ridden with Ivan and Colleen before, and to be honest, I wondered if my sport tourer would be able to keep up with the Number 34 Ducati. Graciously, I let Ivan take the lead.

I didn’t have much to worry about. Ivan took it easy on me, as we stayed pretty close to the legal speed limit. The road twists and curves and turns and weaves through the Angeles Forest in an almost unending squiggle that causes that little gland in my brain that oozes and spurts happy juice to kick into overdrive.

Back in 2004, Mother Nature decided to put an abrupt end to the happy juice oozing by wiping away part of the road in a huge mudslide. Crews did their best to fix the damaged roller coaster, but, as I know all too well, Mother Nature always wins. In 2006 she outdid herself, wiping away huge sections of the road in an early spring deluge.

I think I could get through.

The road closes about ten miles past Newcomb’s Ranch, which is just as well. Newcomb’s is a fantastic place to hang out and bullshit with fellow motorcycle enthusiasts. Every time I’ve been to Newcomb’s Ranch, it’s taken hours to leave. Bikers check out each other’s rides, talk about other favorite roads, and generally pass time telling lies and stories. Oh yeah, and the chili is pretty good too.

I met Bob, a local rider on a KTM 640 who said CalTrans is building a bridge over the washed away part, and that bridge should be open sometime next year. He said the gobs of money being spent on the improved road will be well worth it when it finally reopens. I agree.

After lunch, Ivan graciously let me take the lead. I flogged Rain Cloud as hard as humanly possible as we railed back down off the crest, in a misguided attempt to impress Ivan. That beautiful yellow Ducati was so close it seemed like I was towing him down the road.

All too soon, our ride ended. We parted ways with a promise to do it again soon. Yes, this promise would break that other promise, but what can I do? An addiction is an addiction.

On the way home, we stopped off to visit with Fiona’s sister. Her niece Áine ran out to meet us, and excitedly jumped on the motorcycle as soon as she could.

We talked about our ride, and it occurred to me how much I love motorcycling, how much it is a part of me and who I am. To be honest, at the end of the Epic Ride, I wasn’t so sure if that was the case anymore. It was a relief to realize that the riding burnout was just a temporary thing. It was a great day. In fact, it was the Best Day Ever.

The motorcycle wheels may have stopped turning, but the wheels in my head were spinning full speed with one thought, how can I convince Sleeping Beauty that we should take one last ride, even just a quick one, before the motorcycling season truly ends?

Author: frenchy