Friday, July 18, 2008
Winthrop, Washington to La Connor, Washington
Another beautiful morning, blue skies, sun, hungover. Bailey's starts our day. Again. We're having so much fun I'm not sure how we'll survive. Short haul today (compared to yesterday at least) we're only going as far as La Conner.
After breakfast, nobody that hungry after last night, we are out on the road. The first picture below is a group of wild deer by the side of the road, taken by Shane as we were riding. Now we are in dangerous territory, these animals are unpredictable and they startle easily. And, this is gross, all along the road yesterday and for the first half of today, there are these big stains on the road. Like somebody, driving down the road, dumped a 3 or 4 pails of paint off the back all at once. Big splop, then kind of smeared out as it goes forward. Yup, we all figured it was animal hits by trucks, maybe cars. But not bikes, nope, if we hit a deer there would be two big splops on the road. No way to survive that. We were all very alert. But its hard to be really alert when you are hungover. I've never been so aware of how unsafe I am as on this trip. If this was Jan or one of our girls I would be really worried. And, yes, I see the irony.
Up we went, accross the mountain pass north of Mt Baker, headed west. Barry's Harley is having a bit of a problem, and he and Garry are talking about it when we take a break along the road. His power has dropped off and its running a bit rough. Garry thinks it might be a fuel flow issue, maybe spark, and he has a friend in Burlington which is on our way to La Conner today so we are going to make a stop there. By the way, that photo of Barry and the bottle of Scotch? The cap is still on. We're dumb but not suicidal, we only drink once the bikes are put away for the night.
Along the way, nearly there in Burlington, we cross our path of a few days ago when we headed south, as we go through Sedro-Woolley, though nothing looks the same at all. We stop at a Harley dealer in Burlington to pick up a part for the bike. Shane tried out a new Harley that was on a stand, but he didn't like it. It was a bit big for him, smarter than him too, see the image below. We are briefly in Burlington in Garry's buddy's shop, Barry's Harley is once again running as it should. Along the way, Garry reminds Doug of the importance of oil changes, and checking the oil level, as we put some oil in Doug's bike.
Finally in La Conner. A way shorter ride today than yesterday, but a beauty in bright sunshine. Coming home, and safe so far. What could go wrong now?
We find the hotel, park, check in, then head out for the evening. Jan is happy I'm safe and almost home. The eight of us walk down the street about six blocks to a bar that Brent knows about, he says its a good place to have a beer and play some pool. That sounds good. We get there, it is sort of like Three Finger Jack's of last night, but there are more people and they are a pretty loud group. It is Friday night, and the locals are having a good time. That is allowed. We put our quarters under the edge of the table to put us in line to challenge the winner of the game, grab some beer, and sit to watch the pool playing and chat. Eventually our quarters come up, we feed the table and grab our cues. Brent and I are partners, and we're both pretty good and we beat the locals. Now, as winners, we play whoever is next, and so on. We hold the table for quite a while, till a couple of their better player's turn comes up. The game starts, and we are ahead by several balls, the outcome is not in doubt. One of the other guys takes a shot, he sinks his ball, but his cue ball rolls along and knocks one of our balls down as well. Too bad, both balls stay down but he loses his turn. That's the way we play at least, so I step forward with my cue. Not so fast the local says, its still my turn. Brent pipes up 'no, you sunk our ball, you lose your turn'. No, the local says, that is the 'ball in a pocket rule', I sunk my ball so I get another shot. I think, OK, that's not how we play but it is how they play, and its their table, so if the same rule applies to everyone then that's fine.
I step back, but Brent is in full cry now. Up he jumps, "That's bullshit" he shouts, plus some uncomplimentary things about the guy. The guy mouths off some, and some of his friends stand up with him. Our guys stand up. Some of the would-be combatants have pool cues in our hands, but now they are held by the narrow end with the fat end up in the air like a club. More beaking-off. More guys stand up now. We're seriously outnumbered, and these guys look like one more broken nose or split lip is no big deal to them. Danno grabs a couple of pool balls from the table and cocks his arm like he is going to throw them. Full on confrontation now. The bartender comes over to diffuse the situation, the locals look like they want to take this outside if they don't tear up the bar right now. So, OK, here we are in Washington State, almost in a bar fight, the cops will come, who will wind up in the crowbar hotel for the night? Us of course, we started it, they will say. Luckily cooler heads prevail among our crowd, the cues go on the table, Danno puts the balls back on the table and we, with some of our group still exchanging insults with the locals, start to move toward the door. The locals don't follow, which is good. We must have looked pretty rough too. Still wearing the same jeans for seven days, most hadn't shaved, and we are not small guys. But in a fight? No way we would have come out ahead. And a fight for the locals, from the look of their faces, would have just been one more in a long line of fights. In the end, we walked back up the street and nobody followed us. Personally, I was happy it ended that way.
More drinking, ate dinner, drank some more, eventually bed. Just like the song says, 'Each night begins a new day'. Almost home now, still safe.
