July 10, 2008 - Thursday - Day 10
USA/MEXICO/CANADA
DOUBLE CROSS COUNTRY
& THE TRANSCANADA HIGHWAY
-- OR BUST - SUMMER 2008
Miles Today - 322 - Total Miles 2638 -
Average Daily Travel Day Miles - 293
Baton Rouge, LA - to Houston,TX
(-staying at Haverford High fellow alum, Bill Perk's place-)
(LA-TX)
- AN EPIC DAY - 0NE NOT TO BE FORGOTTEN - EVER - PERHAPS WORTHY OF A LITTLE ULYSSES JAUNT -
Slept well overnight and got my usual six or seven hours of good rest. Went out for the run, and back to emails and to proofread yesterday's journal notes.
As I pulled out of the motel, I needed to turn left across a couple lanes and into one of the two lanes going toward the Interstate. I saw that there were two cars coming from the right, and calculated that it would be no problem making the left turn into either of those lanes. As I was about to make the turn, I thought to myself, “What if that car which is closer to me up the far lane decides to speed up???” And so, when I made the turn, I stayed in the lane closest to middle of the road. And JUST AS I MADE that turn, sure enough, that car whizzed by me on the right…. a good thing I didn't swing wide as I usually do to make the turn into the outer lane.
In the alternate timeline, where I'm not as careful, I wouldn't have thought about and no less looked for - or even considered that car might be coming as fast as it did in other lane. In that timeline I guess you would be doing something else at this moment besides reading these notes.
Stopped in at the local post office to send home about 15 pounds of stuff I decided wasn't necessary to lug along. Things packed up a bit better, and it was good traveling a bit leaner.
In the PO I asked about how long it would take to get the 250 miles or so to Houston. The friendly lady with the warm interested smile behind the counter said it would take about four hours. When outside, an older lady, having overheard the inside conversation, came up to me admiring the motorcycle, and with a gleam in her eye remarked, “It ought to take a lot less than four hours on that!!” I laughed and replied, “Yeah, but I didn't want to tell them that.” Then the lady told me a story about her son who was on an mc behind a big truck at a traffic light. The kid didn't make sure the truck could see him. The truck started backing up, and the kid had to bail out. He was okay, but that was the end of the motorcycle. I know about that situation, but will be much more careful in that situation in the future.
Then I chugged across and down the street, and gassed up at a FasTrack. The price was $4.08 for the premium I always get - much better than the usual $4.25 to $4.39 I usually pay per gallon… Was sorry I didn't need more fuel.
Finally got out of town around 10:30am…. much later than I had hoped.
Had a lunch stop in Vinton. And then gassed up again. In the little truck stop place I got a candy bar, and I remarked to the somewhat friendly looking woman behind the counter slyly, “Now if you REALLY had my interest in mind you wouldn't let me by this.” She laughed.
It was a wonderful first part of the day riding. The roads were wide and clean - at one point five lanes wide. The weather was coolish with the pesky intermittent rains… I rode along the outer edges of a few storms so only nice refreshing little misty drops hit me for long sections. In other sections I was pelted with heavy drops, and in other places the small drops just peppered my gloveless hands and pelted against the yellow helmet. But mostly it was sunshiny, and the billowing clouds ever expanded into the atmospheres I rode under and through all day long - and they entertained me with funny shapes and designs as my mind prompted joy and smiles.
It was a wind-gustier type of day. Had to do battle with those winds as they buffeted against body and helmet. And especially as the dinosaur trucks belched by with their long long bodies, the wind whipping was at times fearsome, at times mightily scary. Had to be in tight control of the bike.
It was rough riding the roads in Louisiana - some were in the process of being replaced, and some just neglected and in bad shape. There were a bunch of potholes on the Interstate to dodge! The seams of the roadway were often separated further apart than should be. And parts of the pavement were very lumpy bumpy…. And in one section there were large beams of wood strewn over the highway. Had to carefully wend my way around them - meeting any one of them intimately would have meant disaster!!!
Just inside Texas, going through a place named Vidor, there were huge slabs of truck tires all over the road. The worst part was that the cars and big rigs were hitting them, and bouncing them all over the place in front of me. They were ominous. Had to be on my toes there!! Any one of them at 50 to 60mph could have meant doom! And no way to slow down on those speedways, of course, what with the rushing traffic.
I was headed to fellow Haverford High School alumnus Bill Perks who now lives in Houston. Bill was a few years ahead of me at Haverford. We had met on-line through the wonderful class of '59 discussion group, and then within the last couple of months in person in Atlantic City for a small reunion of sorts with another Haverford grad. I like Bill. His wry sense of humor stretching to the outlandish always tickles my funny bone.
I had gotten directions from him a couple times via email and also by phone.
Entering a big city isn't always easy with all the turns and by-ways and highways and big trucks and small ones buzzing hither and yon - everyone scuttling around in a hurry! Plus, if one makes a wrong turn or misses an exit - then what??? Not even a place on the expressways to pull off and collect a thought, no less ask for directions.
So with all this in mind I had the directions as I do, clipped to my windshield in bold blue letters… Houston, like many cities, has beltways around it, and Houston has many…
Well, when I made the turn onto the Sam Houston Beltway from I-10, I didn't realize that it was on the wrong end of town from the part of the Sam Houston Beltway that I was to SUPPOSE to have taken.
The storm clouds were moving in again for their every few hour dance.
After a call to Bill indicating I should go back to I-10 and start again, I negotiated a way to turn around on the big roads. But still the roads I should have seen according to Bill's outline did not match what I was seeing.
What happened next I won't ever forget. I would be so bold as to compare it to Ulysses and some of his travails, tests, and travels. I mean, so far this day I've had close calls, I've had 'attacks' by the wood planks, having to endure the wind and the rain, been “blown” off course and was lost for a bit, and then there were the 'assaults' by the rubber truck tire pieces - all of which could easily have cut this trip sadly short….
So as I wrote, I was headed back toward I-10 to figure out where I was, and to try and fathom how to get where I needed to go. The cloud situation was getting worse as a gargantuan darkness was now near overhead, and rumbles of thunder banged out from the heavens.
I thought to pull over at the next available spot which was a construction site near a shopping center. I pulled up onto the slanty lip of the driveway - the driveway was blocked off a bit further in by a large yellow earth-moving machine with a rather large bucket assembly.
All right so far. But then things happened quickly.
As I was punching in numbers on the GPS device - the first real time I wanted to use it this trip, I noted a security guard coming over to either check me out or shoo me away or see if he could help me. The friendly smile on his face seemed to indicate the latter.
JUST as he approached me and I turned my head over at him from the seat of the now parked bike, the storm gained intensity and the strong winds blew harshly and fast. And with those winds, the mounds of dirt and grit of the construction site were carried into my contact lens-covered eyes. It was as if someone at the beach had just thrown a fistful of sand at my eyeballs. I was instantly - and painfully totally blinded! I crouched on the seat there with my hands covering my eyes trying to dislodge the perhaps 50 or so kernels of sand in each one - all of which by now felt like big jagged-edged boulders…. YEOOOOWWWW!
I couldn't tell if the guard was talking to me, partly because of my poor hearing, and partly because of the cars and trucks whizzing past to my left and partly because of the booming of thunder above, and partly because by now the rains were bucketing down in full vengeance. I do recall the guard not letting me get off the bike because he was afraid I'd fall into the traffic.
But he was soon gone to drier safety, and I was left to flail blindly on the bike. I reached around to the Kuryaken bag and knew right where my lens stuff plastic bag was kept. Still totally blind I was able to get the rain cover off from where I sat on the seat and twisted around, and was able to grab the plastic pouch. But I couldn't take out the lenses from my eyes because of the winds even if I was able to open my eyes - which I couldn't. Meanwhile the storm, now in full force was drenching me totally and the pain in my eyeballs was increasing.
Oh, and did I mention that my bladder, already totally full, was now egged on by the wet rain against my now soggy skin, and made me really really have to piss in a most urgent way!!!
So it was quite the situation! (On the edges of my thought was how I was going to write this all up, and how entertaining it might be, but basically I was mostly hoping for some sight…)
And that came shortly in the form of one barely opened eye - at the expense of more excruciation - and then came into view the blurred vision of the yellow earth mover and a rather large mostly glass building on the other side of a driveway. I managed to get off the bike and make my way toward that building. And I spied a two-square-foot or so patch of dryness where the wind and rain was blocked by the building. I headed to that patch, and with the storm ricocheting out of control all around me, I crouched down deeply to the ground, and managed to get the right lens out of my eye. I tried cleaning it off and inserting it a couple times to no avail, but finally it went in with no pain attached to the insertion. My left eye, meanwhile, seemed to be somewhat better as the boulders must have been washed out by the voluminous tears…
While standing there I caught a couple digitals of the deluge coming over the motorcycle…
I shortly heard a banging on the glass next to me, and it was Mr. Security Guard beckoning me to come around the corner and into the building, which I did.
The cavernous place was totally empty save for a couple guys working on the plumbing in the bathroom on the far side. I got a couple pictures of the place, too.
One of the plumbers knew the area, and he told me how to proceed back to I-10 and go to the correct exit. I also programmed the gps with Bill's address.
After loud cracks of thunder, some of which shook the building with their excess, the storm began to abate to just a little tattoo of droplets dancing on the puddles. And then finally, sun again, and blue sky.
It was quite the ordeal.
But no worse for wear, aside except for a couple frayed nerves, I scrambled back to the bike, donned my soaking helmet, which had been left on the handlebars, and motored off through the puddles to I-10.
As it happened, I was still quite a number of miles away from the correct turn off. And unfortunately, now it was rush hour. And even more unfortunately, the road between here and there was all torn up for repaving - the sub-surface of the highway all scored and scared the way it is in preparation for the new cement to be poured. So yet another trial - it was about 7 miles of motorcycle duckwaddling on wet uneven cement!
Finally got to the correct exit after about 25 miles and from there it was a piece of cake to Bill's.
There with the bike safely in his garage, I related the story to him in as animated fashion as I could muster - and I wanted to relate it well as I was full to the brim of excitement about it.
Then, with Bill supervising, I cleaned off the Nomad of all the road grime, and restored the shine.
Inside the house, we chatted about lots of things - reminisced about past teachers and administrators at Haverford, about family things and other incidentals. I had a shower and shave, and finally came down off the incident high.
Ellen, Bill's “beloved”, as he calls her, came shortly and we had a delicious meal - with sweet thumb-sized strawberries starring, and capped by two accidentally burned batches of chocolate chip cookies which I enjoyed immensely. Although Ellen didn't believe that I really liked them that way.
At dinner Ellen told how her daughter was just back from overseas to live in the Houston area. She said how it was fun shopping in the grocery store and her daughter remarking how cheap everything was. For instance, where she had been it was $20 for a box of cereal.
Bill and I chatted for a few more hours, and then we had a Skype session with Ellie before I turned in to write all this up. It was almost 1am before I was done.
And then I turned to sleep… a day of adventure and friendship behind me that surely will be remembered and relived and relished in my thoughts for a long, long time to come…. with smiles, and with joy at having survived to tell the story.
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