Frenchy's Rant

Napa.

Just the name of the place conjures in my mind images of crusty old farts surrounded by snotty, towel-armed sommeliers, sitting in antique chairs, sipping their $100 glasses of grape juice while looking down from their high horses on all the annoying little people.

I love pissing off folks like that, which is half the reason we decided to visit Napa – to crash the party.

Awake early again, Sleeping Beauty and I set off for Napa. We have a reservation on the lunch time wine train. Before we leave Jenner, I made sure to try and get some of the wrinkles out of my best black Old Navy T shirt, and I even wipe some of the mud off my riding boots.

I’m sure I’ll fit right in.

Shock. Horror. Dread.

Sadness.

This intense mix of emotions hits me like a jolt of electricity as I turn the page of the calendar. September? Already? How the hell did THAT happen? An entire summer flew by, and I had, what… two semi-decent rides to show for it?

I grab a nearby paper towel to dab at my tears, then suddenly think of something better to do with the towel, something to take the sadness away. Ripping open my multi-color Sharpie package, a full color design starts taking shape in front of my tear-streaked eyes.

The Last Ride of ’09 Map-Kin

Satisfied, I sit back to look at my newly created ride map sketch. Not bad at all. But would this ride even be possible? There’s really only one way to find out.

I take my Map-Kin to the Boss for explanation, and hopefully, approval.

Rolled out of bed early, then rolled north from Napa through every curvy road we could find, and when the curves ran out, we flew up the 101 through the Redwood Forest (to the Gulf Stream Waters… This Land Was Made For….)

I’m Too Sexy For Myself!

Oh yeah, we’re still going strong. The original plan was to head for Oregon City to get some fork work done on Rain Cloud Follows, but the temptation of all the delicious roads and scrumptious sights up this way has me thinking the forks might just have to wait another day…… too much to do!

Plennnnty to write about already, and we still have six days to go until parole ends and my back-to-work flight leaves LAX for Montreal.

Best. Day. Ever. Without Question!

Life is good.

Well, rollin’ and flyin’…

Cheated Death once again, by risking it all in a wicker basket suspended by a tiny cloth balloon and a lot of faith. Leaving the valley of the never-ending grapes tomorrow for the greener, wetter wilds of the only state that starts with the letter ‘O’ (except for Ohio and Oklahoma.)

More to come…

I’ve been writing about the continuing adventures of Rain Cloud Follows for the past few years. Many of those adventures can be found under the ‘Motorcycle’ category here on the new blog.

Before Rain Cloud Follows came along, there was another adventure bike, my custom painted blue and orange skull covered Harley Heritage Softail, appropriately named Stormbringer. Stormbringer was my first true motorcycle love. I wanted this bike so badly that I nearly went bankrupt buying, chroming and otherwise customizing it. Times change, tastes change, and nowadays, I don’t get out on Stormbringer as much as I used to. On the occasion that I do fire up the loud beast, a transformation always happens. While it may not be a physical one, whenever I sit atop this rumbling monstrosity, I always feel myself mentally channeling this bad-ass biker dude alter-ego:

Last week, Sleeping Beauty and I had a bit of a wild hair, so we decided to fire up Stormbringer, and set out – sans Halloween biker costume – for a little ride.

My plan was simple, as it always starts out to be. Ride around the back roads of the Kingdom of Rhode Island, nearby Massachusetts and Connecticut. It’s rare, but I am in the enviable position of being able to cross three state lines in about twenty minutes, which we happily did. I wanted to end up at the beach for a good ol’ New England seafood dinner. But, everyone knows what happens to the best of plans, and this plan wasn’t even a marginal one.

Our first stop on this badass biker day trip was a really cool lake in Webster, Mass.

That’s right. Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg. At 45 letters long, this body of water holds the honor of having the longest place name in the United States. Roughly translated from ancient Nipmuc Indian dialect, the name means: “You fish over there, I’ll fish over here, and to hell with the poor signmakers!”

That held our interest for about a minute or so, then we headed our first real destination, and a  great place for lunch – the Vanilla Bean. On the way there, we passed this sign that the economy is still in the toilet, even for New England farmers.

Winding deep through Massachusetts and into the lawless wilds of upstate Connecticut, Stormbringer eventually led us to our lunchtime destination.

At the Bean, I ordered a proper meal for a bad-ass biker such as myself.

Properly refreshed, we continued our meandering journey, and attempted to decipher the many confusing street signs of this strange “Land Next to the Kingdom”.

Connecticut is one strange place! We continued to take in the sights on our badass biker jaunt.

Then, in Brooklyn, CT we saw a sight that changed the plan for the rest of the day – The Wyndam County Agricultural Society’s Brooklyn Town Fair – The Oldest Agricultural Fair in the United States. By the way she was subtly pounding my back and slapping my legs, I knew we had to stop.

The stop was definitely worth it, not only for the food…

… and the displays of raw agricultural beauty…

… and even the truly strange and unexplainable…

… but mostly for the spirit it put Sleeping Beauty in. Maybe it was her channeling her own inner biker, maybe it was her unknown yet innate love of  old agricultural fairs, maybe it was the fifteen beers she had at lunch talking, I’ll never know what triggered it, but she suddenly decided it was time to get a tattoo.

Almost as if on cue, thick and ugly storm clouds started forming, and spreading menacingly towards us. Never fails when Stormbringer is out of the shed. We fired up the Harley and roared back to the safety of the Kingdom of Rhode Island.

I was able to get Stormbringer safely back in the shed before the remnants of Hurricane Bill hit. For two days it poured down heavy rain, causing minor flooding and ruining the rest of the Brooklyn Fair. It was a poignant reminder of why I don’t ride this cursed motorcycle as much as I used to.

Sleeping Beauty and I are setting off on Rain Cloud Follows to ride up the Flaming Coast of California  today. If it works like I think it will, the main page of the blog will show an interactive SPOT tracker map of the ride. I’ll update our last ride of 2009 from the road if I can, and if not, definitely when we get home.

Feel free to leave comments!!