...it's the Journey

Trip Start Sep 03, 2010
Trip End Oct 05, 2010

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Flag of United States  , Washington
Monday, September 27, 2010

…the Journey
Having reached my destination, the furthest I could ride my motorcycle from home, I begin the journey home. It is never the destination we seek, the value of working toward a destination or goal is actually the journey. The changes in one, the changes in other people give value to your journey.  Two people are changed when you meet them.  One is you; the other is the person you encounter.  Neither will be the same after you meet. 

The change may be small or the change will be readily significant.  You both will walk away with something added.  This value is what I seek.  I hope to change myself, and if by meeting me someone else is changed then I have reached my destination.

The weather is rainy and cold.  The satisfaction of reaching my destination overrides any discomfort I experience.  I ride with a feeling of quiet content.  I ride with calmness.  The rain is welcomed.  I now must tell the people of my world, I made it.  I seek a place to get postcards stating Neah Bay, Washington.  I am directed to the "big store."  There I find postcards right next door to the Neah Bay Post Office.  Great, the postmark will tell it all.

I take a seat at a few lunch eating tables inside the front of the store.  I can see Bonnie waiting patiently like a good mare.  Navi is resting and I am writing to loved ones, friends and relatives.  Many have expressed joy at receiving communication the old fashioned way, in writing.

After depositing my announcement in the mailbox, “Out of Town” slot, I mount Bonnie and we head back a different route.  One that is further inland.  Highway 101 takes me back to the hotel.  The sun is losing the fight with the earth's rotation and it will be dark about the time I am close.  I have been advised of the wildlife crossing the road and night-time is not a good place to be out here on a motorcycle.  The road is now wet, but I know it will clear soon.  The topography here promotes fog; rain and ocean spray in certain places.  This I am sure have an effect on the mood of the people.  Some adapt, some are never happy and don’t know it.  They don’t live in a sunny environment and cannot afford to move.

The route (Hwy 113 to 101) takes me by Lake Crescent.  This road is called Olympic Highway.  The lake is quite still, as I rhythmically lean back and forth through the curves.  Traffic is building up.  The sun still lights the lake through the clouds.  While searching for the appropriate music I look up and see two full grown deer on the lake-side of the road.  They are waiting patiently for a break in the traffic.  These deer survived this area because they are smart.  Being road kill is a part of the culling process.

The road turns away from the coast and turns into a broad highway with rain.  After I bit the road is dry and the sailing is smooth. It’s getting dark and I throttle up.  If Bambi is out here they will have to look-out.  As I crest the last hill I see harbor lights, I made it back without killing any deer.  I roll into the parking lot smiling inside; I will continue my journey tomorrow. It’s time to celebrate.

Ride to Spokane, WA
The next morning I wrap my clothes up and strap them to Bonnie.  We head toward Edmonds-Kingston, we have a treat today.  The route predicts a ferry boat ride. Neither I nor Bonnie has been on a ferry boat or at least she hasn’t said. We must get on this boat to get on the other side of Puget Sound. We cross Lake Washington gliding across a long bridge in the misty foggy morning.

While waiting nervously for the ferry, I see another motorcycle parked in the painted area designated for motorcycles.  I introduce myself and he says his name is Tupper.  He is an airline pilot and was in Atlanta yesterday.  He gives great advice as what to expect next.  Another motorcyclist pulls into the painted area.  He is an older gentleman.  He too, gives great advice, such as “Stay in the yellow lines!  The only bike I have seen go down was a Goldwing.”  Thanks, that’s just what I wanted to hear.  We silently let him lead, he’s on the left.  I follow as told staying in the yellow lines, this Goldwing ain’t gonna go down.

I place the kickstand down and go about the boat grinning and taking pictures.  It’s raining, but I don’t care, we’re on a ferry for the first time.  The operations were interesting.  They had a café on board.  I met a gentleman who had lived in Atlanta.  He knew the former mayor before she was mayor.  His son went to the same elementary school as my step-son.  How about that for a journey?

The older rider recommended I do not follow him after we disembark, he was going another direction.  I told him I needed to eat and he recommended a place.  Bonnie and I pulled off the boat after him with Tupper behind.  They both waved goodbye it was another good and positive encounter with people on the road.  Breakfast was great.  The rider’s had asked what my route was.  They then asked, “You got a good rain suit?”  When two motorcyclists who live in the area are first wearing rain suits and second know where you’re going advise you to put it on, it’s a no brainer.  Suited up I proceed to Spokane, Washington.  Soon I will leave this rainy climate and venture onward.
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