Chapter 9

I was on the bike for what seemed like forever. I usually stopped every couple of hours to walk about and have a cup of coffee, or a coke. On the back roads of Texas the convenience stores were few and far between. I did manage a late lunch twenty or so miles from Austin. From that point on there were plenty of places to stop. My plan was to have the Sprint serviced while I took a couple of days off the road. With that in mind I looked for a motel near the local Honda motorcycle dealer. The best I could do was about ten blocks from the dealer.

I checked into the motel first. I didn't plan to cook or store anything in the room, other than the junk from my trailer, so I got the most economical room they had.

Before I turned the bike over to the shop, I stopped at a thrift store to purchase a pair of jeans. It was my plan to cut them off and just junk the ones I had worn so far. I paid five bucks for a pair of faded jeans which would cost twenty in a retail store. Even though I had lost a few pounds, I still bought the same size that I had worn previously. I didn't want to be running around in tight uncomfortable jeans.

With the one plastic bag hanging from the handlebars of my bike, I pulled into the Honda motorcycle shop's parking lot. I walked into the service department. "Good afternoon," I said to the younger man behind the desk. "I have a 2012 Tomos Sprint, I would like to get checked over."

"We are going to be tied up the rest of the afternoon," he said. "It's almost closing time."

"I know, I planned to leave it over night and come back for it tomorrow," I said in agreement.

"In that case sure. Let me just get some information." he said putting a work order onto his desk.

I spent a few minutes explaining why I was giving him a motel address and a long distance phone number. In the end we agreed that I would call him around noon the next day, if he didn't call me first.

"Do it right please, I won't be able to bring it back," I said that as a parting shot. He already knew that I was on the road. I had explained it when I asked that his men check the welds on the trailer as well. I also explained that the trailer builder was a pot smoker.

I called a cab to take me back to the motel. I even remembered to take the plastic bag with me. The cab dropped me and my newly purchased of old, but restyled, jeans in the parking lot. I had used the scissors at the thrift store to cut off the jeans, so didn't need to run around finding scissors before dinner.

I got inside the room and took my second shower of the day. I really did feel better in the new to me jeans. Especially since they came without the ground in dirt from a half dozen campgrounds. I took a look at myself in the mirror. What I saw was a not so bad looking woman, who was getting way too close to fifty for comfort.

I had chosen that particular motel because it was not only close to the Honda shop, but also close to a family style steakhouse. I knew that I could never pass the dress code in a fancy place. I really didn't mind, since it was all about the food. I wasn't looking for wine or atmosphere, just good food.

The family steak house proved to be adequate at best. However after all the convenience store food, adequate was wonderful. I didn't meet anyone in the restaurant and that was fine as well. I went back to the room to answer my messages. I sent the kids emails with details of my day's travel. I did leave out the last few hours with Lucy, but I covered about everything else.

Since I couldn't do anything until I got the Sprint back, I slept in. After I was completely slept out, I stayed in the bed anyway. I did answer my phone when it rang. The call was from the Honda dealer. My bike was ready for pickup.

Since the Tomos was ready an hour earlier than I expected, I told the office that I would be back in time for the 1PM checkout. I had not planned to travel that day but I thought I might just get the hell out of Austin at least. Even twenty miles should get me out of the urban sprawl of the place. In just a week or so I had learned to hate the crowded feel of major cities.

I got a cab to the motorcycle dealership, where I paid the cashier over a hundred and twenty bucks to bail out the Tomos. I wasn't surprised, the first hundred was for filling out the bill work order, the other twenty appeared to be for a new spark plug and re-welding a spot or two on the trailer. It had been towed along for a lot of miles, so I wasn't surprised that a weld had pulled loose.

I made it back to the motel just in time to avoid having to pay for a second day. I had the bike's trailer loaded and ready to leave before I signed out of the room at 12:45 PM. Just under the wire, I thought.

I made it all the way to Cedar Park about ten miles from the outskirts of Austin. I found a family campground there and settled in for the night. I even managed to bring a bag from McDonalds into the park. I had not had a Big Mac in ten years. Since I had been pedaling and skipping snacks, I had lost ten pounds in ten days, so I treated myself. Even with the Big Mac, I had a diet soda, so I didn't feel totally ashamed of myself.

I found it hard to believe, but I couldn't finish the Big Mac. I did love it, but I just couldn't finish it and the fries as well. I chose the fries to finish and tossed the Big Mac remains into the woods behind the site. I probably shouldn't have be I expected some small animal to find it rather than a bear or whatever the Texas equivalent was.