Thru the Peephole: Musings on the Strange, Interesting, and Maddening Characters We Meet “On the Road”
By Allan Gereg of St. Clairsville, Ohio.
Chapter 10: Disaster in Denver – Staring Death in the Face!
It had been ten years since our first bike tour to Denver when we decided to return in 1987. How the time flew… and I suppose the times changed and the people changed, too… I remember our first trip out West… we camped and set up our little $29.95 pup tents and were happy as clams… As the years went on, the equipment improved greatly, and , in this case anyhow, the riders involved also got a lot “softer”. With every year that passes, there is less camping done and more motel stays (and no longer are they Motel 6’s or “Bide-o-Wee Motel’s”)… at this rate, in a few years, we’ll just have to travel to “the Big Apple” or “Chi-town” to find accomodations to suit our luxurious tastes. (This is a joke, believe me!)
It was our desire to return to Denver, especially to visit our old friend Don and also to see more of Colorado and Points West. Happily, we were able to make advance arrangements with Don so that all three of us could tour together… because Don was now the proud owner of a black 75/5 BMW!
Oh, Hooray For What is Good and Just!
So we started out and again, due to necessity, we were relegated to take the interstate due to the time thing… we wanted to get to the mountains as quickly as possible so that we could spend optimum time touring there… somehow a mountain has much more allure than does a cornfield. We buzzed west thru O, I, I, and into another I – Iowa – and stayed the night in Davenport… an uneventful first day… Now don’t get me wrong… I’d hate to leave the impression that I think these areas are boring and uninteresting… that’s not at all true… it’s just anticipating the unknown, unusual “foreignness” of the mountains to us “Flatlanders” far outweighs interesting sights close to home. (How many of us never visit local tourist attractions that are in our own backyard?) Hey, I had a wonderful time once in French Lick, Indiana… whose claim to fame is that it’s the birthplace of basketballer Larry Byrd. This trip was also made memorable by the very strict, but courteous Indiana State Police and “Pluto Water” from the area’s mineral springs.
The next day, we crossed the state of Nebraska… quickly… there was no speed limit on these highways; it reminded me of the Autobahn! Evidently, the Nebraska State Police were busy elsewhere, cuz there was none to be seen all the way from Omaha to Ogallala!
Our approach to the Rockies was a little different than the usual (straight thru on I70) – the northeast portion of Colorado is rolly and just different… more interesting than the flat plains, but the mountains were still long in coming… you see them forever and ride and ride before you actually get to them!
We pulled into Denver, found Don’s house, and had a warm reunion. He was likewise excited about our trip together that was planned after a day’s rest. Don was very kind to us and allowed us to park our bikes in his garage behind the house, even though it meant leaving his red BMW 2002 parked out on the street. Don is an auto body specialist and painter by trade and enjoys renovating older cars such as the BMW – in his garage we parked our bikes next to a meticulously restored and newly painted Datsun 240Z (the first model year).
Our next day was one of rest and relaxation as we three (kings?) traveled to Rocky Mountain BMW, where Doug had his bike’s warranty service performed; while we waited for the service, we all went to Golden BMW, another dealer in the Denver area. There we bought odds & ends and souvenirs. I decided that it was time to replace my foam-type grips… they’d been on so long that they were beginning to disintegrate. The Oury hard rubber grips that I chose looked to be serviceable and long-lasting (they’re still on the bike!) and we installed them when we returned to Don’s house.
That night Don and his girlfriend and Doug and myself (all settled down for a good Winter’s nap! ??!… no!!) went out to a good Mexican restaurant and ate and drank margaritas and “cervaza” and had a dandy time. Like a Complete Fool (and probably because I was half-crocked and with an old Army-buddy that made me feel like I was 21 again) on the way home, I goaded Don into a foot race down the block… Harumph … What an Idiot!… I’d been sitting on a bike for days and 1500 miles – all stiff and tight – and I’m running the hundred yard dash… Brilliant!… I got what I paid for… on or about the 75 yard line, Im pumping like crazy and “Ka-Pop”… there went the old hamstring… sounded like a rifle shot… I pulled up hobbling to a cruel stop… Ooo-eee! Does that Smart! (to paraphrase “Deputy Dawg”!) Well, I limped back to the house, feeling an Entire and Hopeless Idiot… Let’s hope miracles come true, so that I can ride west tomorrow… I didn’t come this far to sit with my leg propped in the air while Doug and Don go “mountaineering”.
Morning came and my right leg refused to bend without great teeth-gritting… but what the hey!… I could do this… once I throw the leg over the bike it’ll be fine… I won’t have to hardly move it… This is gonna work!
Well, Don helped us pack and as a last detail he asked us to move our bikes out of the garage so that he could go around front and drive the 2002 into the garage… “Sure, we’ll be out waitin’ for ya!” Here we go, our adventure ready to begin… Doug pushed his bike off the centerstand and off he went… I had, for some arcane reason, left my bike on the sidestand… I grabbed the handlebar and the chrome handle beneath the seat and leaned her over to throw up the sidestand… Oh, No!!… I heard a sickening “pop” as the newly installed grip came off in my hand… due to my stiff and sore leg, I couldn’t hold the bike with one hand and having no leverage, over she toppled!… right into the rear fender of Don’s immmaculately restored 240 Z …Crrrunch!!… Arrggh!!! A Big Dent and Scratch in the fresh orange paint stared back at me like DEATH!!! The worst thing was that Don was not there to see what had happened! How do I explain to him what I had done to his Baby?… Will he Kill me?!? What a Revolting Development!?! I stood dumbfounded for a few seconds… and I got this queezy feeling in my stomach… I’ve got to go out there and tell Don what I did!…
He Will Not Be Happy !
Do I have enough money to pay for the damages or will he want Payment in Blood… YIKES!… What to Do? What to Do?
Well, I faced the music… as Don pulled the car around , I stopped him and said something like, “Ah, ah, Don, I, ah, don’t know how to tell you this… but I, ah, wrecked… I wrecked your Z!… I DESTROYED it!!” Don’s eyes got bigger than pie plates; this Sorrowful, Hurt Look came over his face… just for an instant… he said something like, “Oh, it can’t be that bad!… I hope!”… It wasn’t… he could fix it with no problem – pop out the dent and touch up the paint… Whoooeee! Saved Again!… With lessons learned, Doug, Don, and I took off on an enjoyable tour… looks like I dodged a Bullet in Don’s garage!