A September Saturday, 2004

Ever since I got my new Mustang seat, my daughter, Michelle, has been bugging me to take her for a ride. I use the term 'begging' loosely as it seemed more like 'pleading', or even 'threatening'. Although holding her breath until she turned blue doesn't work as well now that she's 15. Saturday was finally a day we could both make it happen, since my wife was away for the weekend and not around to put us to work.

We decided to hook up with my usual bike buddies, Jan and his wife Chris, and head South across the border into Washington. When we left in the morning it was pretty nippy out, but at least the fog that had been plaguing us all week had shown us mercy. As soon as we crossed the border, the sun had worked its magic enough that the Michelin Man costumes had to be doffed. It was turning out to be one gorgeous day.

Jan, who has a tendency to make everything a job, decided that we should hit "Scooter Works". I was game for just about anything. Work and weather are on their way so riding days may be numbered. We headed down Highway 9 to Sedro Woolley and made a right to the wee town of Park, WA. It turns out the whole town consists of 'Scooter Works', which is this motorcycle goodie shop in the middle of nowhere.

After having a coffee break and doing some shopping, we decided to carry on. Just as we were leaving, another Intruder 1400 pulls up. Our bikes aren’t exactly one in every garage, so I have to say hi. I mosey on over to admire his trusty steed. Then we amble (is that plural for mosey?) over to admire mine. He mentions Intruder Alert is an excellent place for info on these bikes. I tell him “Yeah, I know! I’m Muttley!” He has to talk to his daughter to learn how to use his computer, so he can visit more. It’s okay buddy, I understand.

I can tell Jan and Chris (and Michelle) are starting to get cranky, so I figure I’d better say goodbye so I can feed the bears. I can’t remember the name of the place we had our omelettes, but they sure were tasty. Off we went to Skagit Harley.

We looked at bikes for a while, Jan bought an overpriced little chrome bezel for something on the dash of his Electra Glide and we drooled over the Titan choppers and the really nice Heritage Softail. In the parking lot was an immaculate custom with Florida plates. The owner of the bike came out and admitted it was trailered, although it was pretty obvious. Then we headed for Deception Pass. 

Deception Pass State Park is gorgeous. The sun streaking through canopy of trees made me realize what riding is all about. The trees parted to reveal a pristine sandy beach. We each pulled up a log and dozed off. Not for long, just enough to sleep off the omelettes. Now it was time for a quick sugar fix in the form of chocolate milk, and head home.

If you’re ever in the Pacific Northwest in Washington, you really have to ride Chukanut Drive. Twisty, covered in trees you peak through to see the ocean. My only problem with it is that it’s just too short.

We arrived home at about 7, pleasantly worn out from a very full day. Now that she’s a teenager, it seems that father/daughter time is dwindling fast. I guess it’s all part of her growing up. Inevitable as that is, it’s not my favorite thing. It seems not so long ago that she’d cuddle up to me on the couch and watch TV and we’d revel in each others warmth. I guess those days are all but gone, but day’s like Saturday will live on forever in my memory.