We were a good 4 or 5 days into a ride. Our plan was to go up one side of the Appalachians and down the other, all while criss-crossing on two lane side roads. We were somewhere in West Virginia deep in the woods on a smooth ass blacktop. The sun was going down, the shadows were long, and in my head we were hauling ass. There were six of us, some of us high, some not. I was riding in back trying to remember if I'd zipped up my back pack before taking off.
So these headlights appear in my mirrors. Bright as fuck and on my ass. A day or two prior I remember some kin folk in a pickup blowing us away on a route obviously well traveled by them. So I kept my speed and line, and waited, hoping they would hurry up and pass, trying to impress me. It seemed like miles that this car or truck was on my tail. Meanwhile my friends were gone in the turns not knowing. A parking lot came up in my light, so I pulled over. The car pulls up, a Police Car. Four cops with all the windows rolled down, arms out, sleeves rolled up. Driver says "You drunk?". I said "No, I'm from Iowa". They laughed, and I relaxed. Then old boy says "Go!". I took off, with them following me even closer then before. I was freaked. I stayed the speed and prayed that around the next corner my friends would be waiting. Nothing but bright ass headlights flooding my heart. All of a sudden they turned right, laughing and hollering stuff. Fuckers. Super Troopers.
Parking lot drinking and planning the next couple of days route, I remember us talking about how Billy almost got T-Boned by some truck. How Jim disappeared. Last nights bar that let us stay after hours. The bugs. The black bear. The sketchy dudes that wanted to take us to the 'House of Blonds'. The gas station with the cop leaning on Lanny's bike flipping the gas cap up and down while a big fat roach was stuck to it. It was a 3 or 4 hundred mile day. So many corners, so many things in 24 hours. Each of us riding our ride.
I forgot to tell them my story about the cops and I'm sure they forgot to tell some of their stories from that day also.
Jeff
(I used to ride with out a camera)
So these headlights appear in my mirrors. Bright as fuck and on my ass. A day or two prior I remember some kin folk in a pickup blowing us away on a route obviously well traveled by them. So I kept my speed and line, and waited, hoping they would hurry up and pass, trying to impress me. It seemed like miles that this car or truck was on my tail. Meanwhile my friends were gone in the turns not knowing. A parking lot came up in my light, so I pulled over. The car pulls up, a Police Car. Four cops with all the windows rolled down, arms out, sleeves rolled up. Driver says "You drunk?". I said "No, I'm from Iowa". They laughed, and I relaxed. Then old boy says "Go!". I took off, with them following me even closer then before. I was freaked. I stayed the speed and prayed that around the next corner my friends would be waiting. Nothing but bright ass headlights flooding my heart. All of a sudden they turned right, laughing and hollering stuff. Fuckers. Super Troopers.
Parking lot drinking and planning the next couple of days route, I remember us talking about how Billy almost got T-Boned by some truck. How Jim disappeared. Last nights bar that let us stay after hours. The bugs. The black bear. The sketchy dudes that wanted to take us to the 'House of Blonds'. The gas station with the cop leaning on Lanny's bike flipping the gas cap up and down while a big fat roach was stuck to it. It was a 3 or 4 hundred mile day. So many corners, so many things in 24 hours. Each of us riding our ride.
I forgot to tell them my story about the cops and I'm sure they forgot to tell some of their stories from that day also.
Jeff
(I used to ride with out a camera)
2 comments:
Great prose Jeff !
yeah, really!
reminds me of all those 2 wheel stories my dad tells me from time to time, when I ask him like "how was that exactly? 120 on that city road? - It actually was 170 kph."
Great stuff!
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