August 27 Crossing America

Trinidad, CA – End of West Coast Adventure, did not ride.
Total distance traveled stage 1 and 2 4,741 miles, on my bike for 4,073 of them.

Crawled out of Dale’s tent this morning to discover a thick fog cover with a slight mist and a chill in the air and I decided not to ride any further down the coast.  Add to the above Dale needed to get to his unit to fight the forest fire in eastern Oregon due haste.  By not riding Dale and Larry would not have to shuttle my mini-van down to Ferndale which would take about 3 hours round trip.  Kylie was still cranky this morning, too much fun not to mention long a days for a four year old, and Larry needs to get her home.  I had a couple tense moments with Larry over Kylie’s behavior this morning at breakfast as I said the wrong thing in retribution for a rude comment she made to me.  No doubt I’ve grown too old to tolerate misbehaving kids.  My biggest disappointment was upsetting Larry to the point he wanted to knock me out.  Sorry Larry, I regret my words to your daughter and hope I haven’t damaged our friendship.

With all the above my heart just wasn’t into riding.  While breaking camp it was especially quiet and an air of disappointment, at least with me.  I thanked Dale and Larry for all their help getting me this far down the coast.  I apologized to Kylie and gave her a big hug goodbye.  Actually Dale and Larry got big hugs, too.  Then we headed our separate ways.  My route took me to Fernbridge, a mere 5 miles north of where I had planned on ending, where I picked up State route 36 to head east.  This route turned out to be quite scenic but not fast.  There were many hills, twisting curves and fantastic second growth redwoods to drive through.  Sorry to say riding inside a car with the AC running (oh yea, going east the temperature quickly jumped from the 50s to the 90s) just doesn’t give me the same feeling of freedom.  The vivid colors of Mother Nature are dulled.  My lungs fill with stale air of the car instead of sucking in the fresh scent of the forest surrounding me.  I feel like a caged animal in a zoo looking longing at freedom on the other side of the glass adding to my melancholy state of mind.

Leaving Route 36 when it joined I-5 going south, then exiting on to State Route 20 east until it connected with I-80 east did yield more fantastic redwood forests and the Cascade mountain range.  Again it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable seeing this beautiful land from a car but if you ever vacation out west these roads would be quite enjoyable for a leisurely drive as you won’t be able to drive them at 70 mph.  Finally I called it a day at Lovelock, Nevada a little community in western Nevada.  While looking for an affordable motel to stay I happened to spot a hand painted sign stating “Bed and Breakfast” didn’t have a name or at least I recall seeing.  When I walked to the door of the place it had another sign with a number to call for service.  I phoned it and a gentleman answered I asked him if he had a room and what the price would be.  Alfie, the gentleman’s name, said yes he had a room and the price with taxes would be $36.00.  That was about half what the three motels I stopped at wanted so told Alfie I’d like a room.  With that he instructed me to drive around to the alley and he’d meet me at the rooms in back of the house.  When I reached the back of the house I noticed a small motel with 4 or 5 rooms in an L shape just to the eastside.  Within a minute or so Alfie arrived and led me to one of the rooms which served as an office and kitchen for guests.  Then he dumped a handful of keys on a table selected one and escorted me to the room on the far end of the place.  Alfie opened the door and I quickly noticed the furnishings to be vintage early 60s though the bed looked quite comfortable and the linens fresh and clean.  I can’t say as much for the rest of the room as it appeared to not have been dusted or vacuumed for several years.  Well, Ms. Vickie would never stay here but the price was right and I agreed to rent the unit.  There were no guests in the remaining rooms.  Alfie was a amiable enough guy and I learned he had traveled the world as a sailor during the Viet Nam war.  However, in my imaginative mind I kept thinking of Alfred Hitchcock’s movie “Psycho” as the motel, house and Alfie fit the Bates Motel description fairly well.  Hey, I did sleep well and I’m sitting here writing this journal so it wasn’t the “Bates Motel” in real life.

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