Friday, July 15


I hit the Casper, Wyoming shop early, to get my shirt, my pin and my poker chips. From there I made some calls to see if I could get the Harlow bike in for its thousand mile check up. I wouldn't quite be there, but didn't want to go over. The Greeley and Loveland shops were too busy to take me. The Frederick shop said come on down, so I told Brett I'd be there as soon as I could. It was about 250 miles.


No stops except gas, restroom and go, go, go. I ran Interstate 25 although I reallyon't like them, and have been on them entirely too much this trip. But the shop was on the interstate and would be easy to find. That's always a plus for someone like me who is directionally challenged.


I made excellent time and got to the shop about 2:30. I'd have been a few minutes earlier but missed the turn and had to go two miles to the next exit and back.


The Frederick shop, High Country HD, is a great shop. They had someone drive me to a place to get some lunch, and then told me to call them and they'd come pick me up. The bike was finished when I returned as they put two techs on it. I then asked about highway pegs to help keep my leg from getting fried by the heat from the engine. This shop was more than accommodating, and they were willing to take me in when the others wouldn't. I give them excellent marks. They even gave me a shortcut to get me out of town and away from the Denver area which even I could follow, and did, and did not get lost or turned around.


Although maybe I should have lowered those marks some. I'd told Brett that my bike looked like the Beverly Hillbillies. He then called my makeshift bag a "Clampett bag" after the hillbillies. I laughed out loud at him. Brett was very nice, and he reminded me of Matthew Perry, the general look, smile, and he was more than helpful.

The lovely Harlow with her Clampett bag and other things piled high.  Whoever invented cargo nets deserves a big kudo.  There are two of them on this load, and so far I've not lost but one thing, the top to a rain suit that I'd tossed the pants from since they were all torn up from the pipes.  Bag, stuff, helmet, jacket.  Think there's a water bottle under there, too.

I got back on the road and took Highway 70 to Limon, and decided it was time to get off the road for the night. I called my friend Slider in Texas. We worked out a route for us both that gives us about equal miiles to travel and we will meet in Wichita, Kansas. It will be about 400 miles for each of us. We'll spend the night, party hardy, and spend some time together on Sunday before she has to head back home.


On Monday my intent is to go to Topeka to see my friend Ruth whose bike died in San Jose. It's being shipped home, and she was working on getting military hops back to Topeka. I had a voicemail from her today that she was in Colorado and expected to be home Saturday. Wonder where she was, and if our paths were close to each other at some point today. I'll give her a call tomorrow again to see if we can meet to spend our gambling money. That's a story for when it happens.


This trip seems to be one of purchasing knives. So far I've bought five, or at least that's what I remember buying. Two of them go on the bikes, they are a kitchen-style with a sheath so will be easy to carry and not cut anything like a saddlebag liner. I've also got a knife that will attach to the webbing inside the webbing of the saddlebag. Then I picked up one that looks like a bullet. Why? I don't know. Cuz I liked the looks of it, and cuz I could. Nuf said.


So it's time to hit the hay, so I can get on the road at a decent hour tomorrow.