My biological clock was in good form and I woke up before dawn but had the good sense the work on sleeping in until 6:30 which left me with four hours before the big group ride started. I got up for good then showered all the while thinking about how to get to Cinnabon over at the Riverside Casino and Hotel. I walked along the river walk and into the casino, around the casino, upstairs from the casino, to the casino map and was still unable to find it, not even a whiff. I decided to walk it off and spend some time praying again for La Crescenta and about my own day ahead and really enjoyed the stroll nearly as much as I had imagined the cinnamon roll would taste. Almost.
I stopped for a little bit and watched the waterfowl at work. A few Coots, Ring-necked Ducks, and even a Double-crested Cormorant were working the river. The birds in the middle of the river would drift by on the main current only to pick up and fly back upstream for a ways and float back down occasionally diving after fish. Actually, the coots would run/fly, flapping their wings and running on the water. The few birds plying the shoreline, mostly pairs of Mallards, would paddle themselves upstream looking for tidbits in the river grass and moss but it seemed to me a lot of hard work for the rewards. While the river offered life sustaining sustenance it made them work for every scrap.
Deciding on a real breakfast I went back to the Aquarius and ate at the diner having a skillet of scrambled eggs, sausage, and potatoes which were too obviously from a frozen package. There was a big table of six Victory riders breaking up as I came in and we exchanged greetings. Towards the end of my meal a guy came in and sat down at the table next to me; he could have been a rider but I wasn’t sure with his nicely trimmed hair and clean shaven face while wearing casual clothes like a business man on a work trip. I went out to my bike early thinking I’d be one of the first out there and this was not the case as there were many riders out wiping down their bikes, cleaning the windscreens, and checking out their gear. About 20 minutes later the guy who sat near me at breakfast came out in worn riding pants complete with wallet chain, a finely festooned riding vest, and his hair all spiked up. I chuckled at this and then pondered my own transformation with new harness style riding boots as opposed to the lace-up with ankle buckles style I had been wearing, my new leather jacket I’d gotten with this trip (and winter riding) in mind as opposed to my mesh jacket with padding, and I was wearing a Victory bandana. The bandana is no stretch for me as I can be seen in any water park, rafting trip, Mission Arizona, or desert work trip photo with one. Nevertheless, even my choice of helmets for the group ride was to look like a cool cruiser as I went with the shorty helmet instead of the full-face helmet I had ridden in with. We do tend to dress the part and work for acceptance, something that can work to my disadvantage as a Christian living in the world but not being a part of the world. It’s a fine line that gets rubbed out in the sand like the batters’ box chalk lines on a ball field by the second inning.
Riders started mounting up and the parking structure rumbled and shook with the roar of the engines, especially Ron’s Kingpin. We pulled out of the structure and out to the parking lot where we could form up and the ride leader called us over for the pep talk; we’d ride in staggered formation, within 5 miles of the speed limit and right at the limit when going through a couple of little towns. The ride leader’s handle is LordandMaster; unfortunately I never got the chance to explore that with him but I have my doubts that it’s the same Lord I call Master. I’d never considered a motorcycle handle for myself until this trip when I was asked what mine was for my banquet name tag. I’ve had a lot of nicknames in my life; some would be decent riding handles, others, not so much, and still others inappropriate in any case. While Jer-Bear works around church and the kids it hardly fits the type of persona I’m trying to project as a tough rider. Thoughts on how I would come up with a handle swirled around in my head the rest of the trip. I have a couple of scenarios that might work for me but what is the correct etiquette on something like this? Wouldn’t it be somewhat pretentious to come up with one myself and have a readymade story about it? Shouldn’t you earn a riding moniker and have it bestowed on you in some tribal ceremony? I see the need for research before I make an unalterable blunder. Who knew trying to fit in a riding club could be so complicated?
We rumbled out of the parking lot, eighty bikes, two of which were the first Victory trikes that I had seen. We soon crossed the Colorado River into Arizona and made our way to the Kingman Victory Dealership and a free BBQ lunch. Don’t worry, he probably broke even with all the clothing and gear everybody bought and his store got a lot of attention that day. It was quite a site with sixty or so bikes stretched out over a quarter of a mile ahead of me and another twenty behind me. We wove our way through some small towns after lunch and worked our way up to Meadview where we could have ridden down at twenty bucks a bike for a look at the lake; no one did. We stretched at a little gas station market and looked at the mountains that separated us from the Grand Canyon which we could have seen by riding over a 20 mile dirt road to the Skywalk; image the dust that would have been raised for everyone except the LordandMaster. A young mother with two small children came up to me to find out what so many bikes were doing in one place at one time. I told her it was a club meeting ride and that we were also doing a fundraiser for the Susan B. Komen Foundation. Even with the controversy for that group she thought it was cool and went away happy we weren’t a rough and tumble biker gang that had come to town.
That was the turnaround point and when we headed back and I put myself closer to the front of the pack and wished later that I stayed back when we made an interchange and I got stuck waiting. It took a pretty fast pace to catch up and lead my sub-pack back to the group and once there had to maintain an uncomfortable pace of over 80 MPH to stay with them, so much for staying within five miles an hour of the speed limit. It was just like a bunch of rental horses once you turn them around to head back to the stables. There wasn’t much time to enjoy the desert surroundings doing that kind of riding and I was glad when the leader pulled over to gas up his smaller bike and basically told everyone that we could go on. It was nice following three Victory Visions at a statelier pace the last thirty miles back to the Aquarius. I wiped down my bike and went to my room for a little reading of “Taken” by Robert Crais before going down to the banquet.
Kevin and his group from San Gabriel Valley and Santa Clarita had a table filled up so I found one and joined a couple from Flagstaff, Arizona. They store their bikes in Phoenix to get more opportunities to ride through the summer. Soon another solo rider joined us from Corona and then Jerry and Susan from Phoenix who ride one of the trikes sat down with us. I’d struck up an acquaintance Jerry and his wife as this was their first time at an event like this, were more nervous about it than I, and he had the same name so memorization was not a problem. Our table was rounded out by a couple from Utah who had to trailer their bike south to reach passable roads to join the meet. They don’t know my old high school teacher Joseph Jesnsen but we had bikes in common to talk about. Age wise, I believe that I was about the middle of the age range at the table which is another strange occurrence as I’ve spent so much of my time with young students and their parents, also younger than I am. During the raffle drawings I was the only one at the table not to win anything and we held out for me to win the 50/50 drawing. No luck. The evening came to an end without having a lasting acquaintance started unless we all happen to make next year’s tenth anniversary event and actually remember each other.
I went out to the casino, worked the poker machine to break even for the trip, went to my room and finished “Taken”.
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