5 strippers, and a drug dealer all helped me pick up my motorcycle and load her into the back of my truck. Two hours earlier, I had begun taking the necessary weighty extras off, such as: front and rear wheels, forks, handlebars, and battery. This lightened it a little bit, but the bike was still wet, and its contents mighty; however, with all our collective might, we got my motorcycle onto my tail gate, and finagled her under the truck shell, and into place. I then proceeded to load my wheels, forks, tools and all sorts of necessities, into the bed around my bikes contents. With my truck bed visually bottoming out, I decided to make the most with what I was taking for two months on the west coast. And in 5 short days I would be rolling up to a my friends places in Los Angeles.
Originally, I had planned to take about two weeks to ride across the country at my leisure, but I had worked all the way up until the last conceivable moment, and my window to ride across the country had diminished. So there I was leaving Saturday afternoon, from Brooklyn, literally sitting in downtown New York traffic, and then hauling my ass through the toll-free by-ways of New Jersey, and sailing along the 22/78 into Pennsylvania. Now, Pennsylvania is not just long, but it’s damn long, even more so because the terrain doesn’t change for the scenic better. It’s just forests, maybe some knolls, but it’s arduous. I was exhausted before the trip, and my first rest stop was a really shitty 3-4 hour rest stop nap, of on and off, bad dreams, anxiety, and me in the fetal position in my drivers seat. It was still dark when I woke up, deciding no sleep was to be had, I plodded on. I drove the 78, to the 81, to the 76, to the 70, in a nice long jaunt westerly through Pennsylvania. The 70 drove me through Columbus, Ohio; Indianapolis, Indiana; ‘Effingham”, Illinois; St. Louis and Kansas City, Missouri; Through Abilene, Kansas, where I stopped to visit Dwight D. Eisenhower’s boyhood home.
Over the course of two days, I’d made it all the way to Denver, Colorado, by early Monday afternoon, replete with a horrendous hail storm. Decidedly staying in Denver to visit two college friends since it was my first time visiting Denver, I managed to show myself around while my friends were working. One of my friends, a Denver P.D., had given me some info on neat areas that I might want to visit, or dine at, and the other friend, a bar tender and chocolate confectioner, also told me of some things to do, and then to “come on over to help make some chocolate and see the operations.” The rain was in town, and so I took myself to Hamburger Mary’s, since that’s something I never do. I sat alone for 2 hours, over a cooling plate of twice baked potatoes, and many refills of coffee, while laughing at anything funny, and singing loudly to the overhead tunes.
Dwight D. Eisenhower's boyhood home
Sunset across Kansas
The Brown V. Board of Education national historic site. The school where it all began.
Over the course of two days, I’d made it all the way to Denver, Colorado, by early Monday afternoon, replete with a horrendous hail storm. Decidedly staying in Denver to visit two college friends since it was my first time visiting Denver, I managed to show myself around while my friends were working. One of my friends, a Denver P.D., had given me some info on neat areas that I might want to visit, or dine at, and the other friend, a bar tender and chocolate confectioner, also told me of some things to do, and then to “come on over to help make some chocolate and see the operations.” The rain was in town, and so I took myself to Hamburger Mary’s, since that’s something I never do. I sat alone for 2 hours, over a cooling plate of twice baked potatoes, and many refills of coffee, while laughing at anything funny, and singing loudly to the overhead tunes.
Not high, just exhausted.
Get some and love it!
After dinner, rain pouring down, I sat in my truck and made a few phone calls to some friends, before I decided to go check out the chocolate business. By this time, it was dark, and all the long travel and poor sleep, had caught up with me, and I made my best attempt to help fold chocolate boxes, just before opting out to go to my friends house and crash out. However, the plan to rally for a breakfast in the morning before I left town, was well on the agenda. When I got to my friends house, I visited briefly with her boyfriend and he showed some projects he was building.
The next morning at an early 7am, I met Katelyn and Emily for breakfast at one of the best spots in town. Before I knew it, an all too short visit was over, and I was on my 850 mile drive to Phoenix, Arizona. This leg of my trip was fun, because somewhere, along my route from Colorado to Arizona, I’d gotten into a heavy conversation, forgot that I needed gas a few miles back, and almost ran dry over a very long steep mountain pass. I was just stressed enough, after backtracking coastingly through a vacant canyon to a gas station where I was going to pay whatever price they were asking, that I bought a coca-cola, and puffed on a Winston Salem Light, while draining my bladder on a breezy overlook, with a couple of roughish looking horses decorating the same hillside that I was hydrating. Heading on down the highway into Albuquerque, I decided that I was going to enjoy the rest of my trip, and treat myself to the finer things in life, such as Sonic burger.
The next morning at an early 7am, I met Katelyn and Emily for breakfast at one of the best spots in town. Before I knew it, an all too short visit was over, and I was on my 850 mile drive to Phoenix, Arizona. This leg of my trip was fun, because somewhere, along my route from Colorado to Arizona, I’d gotten into a heavy conversation, forgot that I needed gas a few miles back, and almost ran dry over a very long steep mountain pass. I was just stressed enough, after backtracking coastingly through a vacant canyon to a gas station where I was going to pay whatever price they were asking, that I bought a coca-cola, and puffed on a Winston Salem Light, while draining my bladder on a breezy overlook, with a couple of roughish looking horses decorating the same hillside that I was hydrating. Heading on down the highway into Albuquerque, I decided that I was going to enjoy the rest of my trip, and treat myself to the finer things in life, such as Sonic burger.
The day dragged along, but the western drive along the upper desert 40 into the sunset, was beautiful, passing wild mud packed clay homes in the hillsides along untamed and non domestic landscapes. I rolled up to my old Phoenix doorstep at about 1am; weary, and under caffeinated. Greeted graciously by my good friends Mark and Greg, we had a good long visit around the kitchen counter, before I found the comfiest spot on the couch with a pillow, and a table cloth for a bed sheet. I slept like a baby.
The next morning I had nothing but guns on the mind. That’s just what Arizona does to me. Brings out the cowboy. The gun slinging western settler. And so although I sleep most of the day catching up on travel fatigue, as soon as my buddy Mark was home from work we hit up the nearby gun store, and then went for late night burgers at my favorite burger joint Whataburger, where I ordered a jalapeño cheese burger, fries, and a sweet tea. Just what the doctor ordered. I stayed another night in Phoenix.
Bright and early Thursday morning, I was on the road for Los Angeles. It was a drive/ride that I’d done a million times before. In the chilling cold, and the blistering heat. That back and forth to L.A. I knew that 10 highway like the back of my hand. The miles disappeared, like water droplets to the desert floor. About 30 minutes before I hit my target destination, I’d called my buddy Greg to see what he was up to, and he said he was at our friends garage in Burbank, to which I replied “perfect! see you in a few minutes.” I rolled up to the shop around 1pm and gave Greg, Steve, and Spencer hugs.
I guess everyone knew I was there for the notorious Babes in Joshua Tree Womens campout, so right then I told them I needed their hands getting my bike out of the back of my truck. Everyone was jazzed, and lent a hand leaning, pulling, and twisting her out from under the shell of the truck and onto my strategically placed center jack stand, and wood blocks. I then proceeded to assemble my forks, handlebars, tank and electrical, front and rear wheels, and make all necessary adjustments. We had bbq for lunch and then it was back to guzzling water in the extreme heat of the afternoon, to which I was extremely red-faced and sweating. Being as I was taking off for the desert, the guys let me park my truck in the back of the shop behind a gate, and before you knew it, I’d lasso’d my backpack and guitar onto my moto, and I was all ready to hit the desert roads toward Joshua Tree the next morning. I sat around the green evening glow of the shop lights having beers with the guys for a good bit visiting before I left to go join the girls for a pre meetup and party at a bar, before crashing out at my Nina’s. I slept on a short couch under an open window, and a desk lamp on in the corner the whole night, but for some reason it was kinda cozy.
The ladies all started trickling in around 7am. Harleys, Triumphs, Suzukis, and Hondas all lined up outside of Nina’s house with a badass array of women from all over. We all got together for some pre-ride photos and did our hellos, and had a little time to have coffee, eat some energy bars, and finalize our then jumped on our bikes and rumblingly rode on out of dodge. Our route was awesome! Nina led us over and through the Angeles Crest forest to the high desert two-laned roads that brought us into the scenic back door of Joshua Tree. A few fun stops, gas, hydration, and we rolled up to our secret campground sometime in the early evening.
We rolled our bikes sequentially along the upper fence line, planted our feet on our weekend real estate and then began setting up camp. Then we went to the check in booth, to get all our awesome freebies, shwag, gifts, free Smokey Mountain Moonshine, and PBR. ( I got free socks! in fact i’m gonna take a moment to announce that the Stance socks that I wear, for I’d say, 5 days in a row, don’t smell, or feel gross, and I wear them inside of Dr. Martens, for days on end. I rave about how they don’t smell as bad as the rest of my high tech socks with all the rigors that I put them through. So I really am totally stoked about these socks. ) The sunsets were phenomenal, and the evening settled with me seeing some old friends, visiting with the new ones I was making, and it was all pretty chill, campfires, drinking, and good company. I slept next to my bike, under the gorgeous brilliant sparkly desert sky.
The next morning, I got to help some folks fix and figure out some of their bike concerns. Being a motorcycle mechanic makes you a go-to for things like this. I was glad to help, because well, I love helping people out. I took care of an oil overfill, and I got to even straighten someones crooked front end, from a digger that they’d taken on the ride in. A couple hours into the morning and me and my friends were riding to a desert oasis, with an awning and a pool. I didn’t care where I went, or what we did, as long as I was with friends, and motorcycles were the reason. So there we were, lounging, drinking, and dipping in the cool and shade of a gorgeous desert bungalow. After that whole week of just plodding west, it was finally good to just sit and feel all the rewards of the arrival. Relaxation. After an afternoon at that rad house, we headed to the famous Pappy and Harriet’s where we had a very anticipated late lunch. We also found out that the Dandy Warhols were scheduled to play that evening, whom I’d seen once at an intimate interview session in S.F. that my friend Michelle took me to. Memories. After we all took over the joint for a while we were headed back to the campsite. I knew we were supposed to get free pizza that evening, so I saved room for an appetite. Lounging around on the dusty desert floor with the other gals, I busted my guitar out briefly, and strummed through some tunes, and also fiddled out some song I’d never played before, which is always how requests seem to go. Pretty soon the pizza line started up, and I ventured toward the action.
That evening we sat around to a few fun bands, and a long raffle, everyone clinging anxiously to their ticket numbers, hoping to win any of the amazing prizes, such as tanks, helmets, bike parts, shoes, Stetson hat, shirts, and all sorts of goodies. I didn’t win anything, but it was fun cheering on the gals who did, and that was the essence of the whole energy of the support and camaraderie of the event. I didn’t drink much that evening but I was pretty tired after the days events, so I think I laid down while a few people were still visiting around the dwindling fire. Now if anyone wants to know why I stayed another day and night in Joshua Tree, I’ll tell you all about it in person, but for now this is where I’ll leave ya. The next morning it was final group photos, and well, yeah, I stayed an extra day and night in Joshua Tree. So there we have it folks. Babes in Joshua Tree went off without a hitch. It was a blast, and I can’t wait till Babes Ride Out 2015! We all had a certified blast!
Till next time,
See you on the road.
I headed down a dirt road,
to see how far it'd go.
My Dr. Martens grip amazingly to these rocks.
I took a hike around some of the trails and climbed up
those big rocks behind this Joshua Tree,
that didn't seem to get the memo.
Leaving the Park.
Riding back to L.A. via Box Canyon.
A place where I grew up shooting cans,
and having bonfires with the family.
