I was raised by wolves. Very kind, very nurturing wolves. I love riding to a town a just barely learned the name of on a Friday, making a decision at the intersection to get myself lost 1000 miles away from home on a Saturday, and trying to figure out how the hell I can get home on a Sunday. Just ride a place and see a thing.
You got to roll with the punches, and get to what’s real.
I’ve been moving all day. Hell, pretty much all week. I’m pretty beat. Having a brewski, kicking back and enjoying a moment in the new house.
My kids are digging it. New rooms, new situations and after years of pushing them pretty hard to get a work ethic, I can see that starting to stick. Just like my old man did to me. They did good today. It makes me pretty proud.
I was born and raised here. Left here when I was 16. Its funny. Back then, all I wanted was to get out of here. Now, I’m just glad to be back.
I’m 46. I look at my life, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I’ve paid a few dues, had some great times and I can’t bitch about a thing. In fact, its the opposite. I really dig my life. “Perspective” has been on my mind all week. I want to make a post about it, just not right now.
Thank God for your darkest, shittiest moments in life. I’m not sure how some people shoot out the other side and why some people fold, but my worst times have formed me into something I like. I feel pretty lucky most days.
Another step in getting back to my rockabilly. The road back is looking pretty good methinks.
Tonight, I thought my husband was acting weird. We had made plans to meet at a nice restaurant for dinner. I was shopping with my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment on it. Conversation wasn’t flowing, so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk. He agreed, but he didn’t say much. I asked him what was wrong; He said, ‘Nothing.’ I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said he wasn’t upset, that it had nothing to do with me, and not to worry about it. On the way home, I told him that I loved him. He smiled slightly, and kept driving. I can’t explain his behavior I don’t know why he didn’t say, ‘I love you, too.’ When we got home, I felt as if I had lost him completely, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there quietly, and watched TV. He continued to seem distant and absent. Finally, with silence all around us, I decided to go to bed.
About 15 minutes later, he came to bed. But I still felt that he was distracted, and his thoughts were somewhere else. He fell asleep – I cried. I don’t know what to do. I’m almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.
There’s not many things better than being out in the middle of nowhere on a bike. With a bike, you know you can enjoy it and end up back somewhere.
Just make sure you’ve calculated the gas mileage right.
I’m a Led Zeppelin Fan, and a big fan of Robert Plant. I know where this video was filmed. I’ve been there.
The school house he’s in was filmed in Bundyville, Just south of where I used to live for a handful of years. It burned down not long after this was filmed. Out in the Arizona Strip, south of St George Utah.
Great song. I could be out in the middle of nowhere, and you couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Hope that bike starts.
Hope you and yours are having a good 4th of July. Here’s to long roads, sweeping turns, a family who’s got your back, and friends to laugh with when and where you stop. Whatever land you hail from, be proud of your heritage methinks. There’s always something good in there.
Maybe, the best money a man can spend is to buy the boxed set of Band of Brothers. I’m a fan. In my opinion, we’re still swinging from the balls of these guys that did their duty for the sake of doing it. With some hard work, they influenced the whole world, just by doing so. To me, It was the greatest generation.
Dick Winters died in 2011 at the age of 92. He was in the trenches, led men like himself into battle and came home to fight the battles we fight every day. This local news clip is about him.
Pretty cool.
I give you Vera Lynn. Listen to this song, and before you dismiss it as old, watch the video that comes with it. Singing about the times. About going to war, and wondering if your kids or husband was coming home. About right and wrong of the times. About meeting again. The same things we value this day, just in a different melody. People don’t change much.
Been riding the bike daily since I got home. Doing some customer service calls on it, and finding it to be a nice ice breaker. If you ride…. no matter what you ride…. People like to talk about it. It solves some problems. I think I’m onto something.
The Road King, down by Utah Lake in Vineyard Utah.
Last Friday, It was my wifes family annual reunion. I’ve been doing it for almost 23 or 24 years. I’ve lost count. She headed up that night, and my plan was to head up the next day on the bike. I needed a night off, and my wife has always been cool enough to not give me any crap about that sorta stuff. I’m fairly positive I’m pretty lucky that way.
I woke up the next morning and read my emails. Someone had hit me up from this here blog and told me that the Kozy Cafe Was Open over in Echo. I’d said something about this place before. The thought of breakfast there got me fairly inspired, so I got my act together and pointed the bike that way. It’s not that far away, and that place is old and has character. Nice bonus to the day.
Headed through Heber City northbound. Up through Parleys Summit.
Heber is a funny place. I’m originally from Orem, which is probably considered Northern Utah. When I was 16, I wasn’t so good a kid (I thought I was). A lot of factors (including that one) combined to me being moved by my parents, 6 months before I got my drivers License to southern Utah, 5 hours south.
I chose to live in Wasatch County. Maybe thats why I like it. I moved here as an adult, and to me there’s just a good feeling here. Anyway, whatever.
Apparently I take a lot of pictures of my bike. There will be more. I’m not sure what else to take a picture of. This is at the Top of Parley’s Summit, trying to find an old road that I couldn’t get to.
Headed up through Parleys Canyon, and then through East Canyon, toward Henifer and Echo. I was getting hungry, and it was getting late. I can’t keep this up on beef Jerky. Up through East Canyon.
Up in the Quaking Aspens of Easy Canyon.
Utah is killer. At least, I think so. A week or so ago I’d ridden half way across America, and not on a road like this.
Hrm, the donner Party came this way. I’m hungry, but not that hungry. Ten more miles and I can eat at that reopened cafe in Echo
The best thing about a road king is you can take the windshield off if you want to. I pulled into Echo.
Reminds me of Roys, in AmboyFrom the 2005 Movie World’s Fastest Indian. Hollywood does a little photoshoppin, it seems.
Echo is really small. Like, really small. It had an important part in the history of this area — an old railroad town at the junction of a few canyons that joined evanston Wyoming to Salt Lake City back in the day. It’s had a long history, but I didn’t know any of it. When the interstate came in, the town dried up. It reminds me of route 66. There’s not many places up here like that. They’re just all gone.
Kozy Cafe. It’s like stepping back into time. Its clean, not updated since the 70s, and is pretty cool.
The waitress was young and had a natural smile on her face. She had that look about her that this was either her first job, or she was in the family. It was noon by now, so I had me a Jalapeno Burger and the food was quite good for a joint that you can’t see from the freeway. In fact, it was really good. Signs of a place that’s trying to build or keep your business. I hope they make it. Either way, I ate here and gave em a buck, and I hope to be back. Had a beer, gave her a good tip and went out and explored a bit of Echo.
Love that old neon sign. They don’t make em like this anymore.Back in the day they advertised air conditioned rooms. Not much movement around the old Motel Now.Can’t get gas here now, Frank I bet, was in a good spot when he opened this place. I bet cars were piling up. Radiator belts and gas at 36 cents a gallon. Money in your pocket.The Echo Cafe in Echo Utah. A stones throw from the Kozy.Main Street in Echo Utah.
Not many places have this much 1950’s style. I wanted to know more, and drink in a little local history. People had lived here, worked here and got paychecks from here for generations. It was a big part of somebody’s life, and I felt the need to find out more.
My inlaws say they used to come here back in the 60’s. The lake was nearby, and they ate, drank and danced in their younger years.
Turns out, Echo had a lot to do with settling this region.There’s quite a few plaques in Echo. If you stop, you could learn a thing
I headed east down the Echo Main Drag, looking for clues. The family Reunion I felt was fine, I was 30 minutes away. Curiosity got this cat, and by this point I had to know.
Transcontinental Railroad. Boom Town. I found an old church.
They had an an old museum downstairs. The lights didn’t work, and I had to squint for most of it. Signs of a place that is struggling to pay for itself. This is a great old town so far, and needs to be preserved. There is some history here. Some old man with an old dog was guardian of this place, and he sat below the pulpit. I nodded, and headed into the museum part, downstairs.
Lots of homer stuff:, just like you’d expect. Perfect: When Echo took 2nd place in the state championship in basketball in 1942, People who died in WWII that lived in Echo, and History of the transcontinental railroad that brought life to this area. This one stuck out to me:
This was my favorite. Click on this to enlarge. An advertisement, for another day. I might have applied. Click to Enlarge.
I hung out a little more, put 20 dollars in the kitty and headed out of town. Echo, you told me who you are. Please, keep it up. I will for sure be back.
Headed towards Morgan Utah, and into the family Reunion. At the Lions Lodge, where Mrs Zips Grandpa was a member for a lot of years. We had fun for the next 2 days.
If you lived in Echo, I’d love to hear your stories, whatever they are. Post em if you got em.
Its summer up here now. Hit 100 degrees today, or damn close. It’s so much different than living in the desert the last 30 years. When its warm, everyone has an activity, or a ride, and you make hay while the sun shines. Since getting home, I’ve had a ton of fun, but this weekend I’m going to do absolutely nothing. Ahhhh, how ’bout a little nothing?
Flashback to June 1st.
Woke up that morning and got my shit together and met big D in the lobby of the Hotel. We were flying out together, and it was nice to see a familiar face for one last time. We hit the shuttle, and said our goodbyes in the half hour ride to the Airport.
Flew Home.
My plan was to stay at my older brothers house, and cook some ribs for a family get together the next day. Skeezix had just bought a new smoker, and we were going to dial that bad boy in. He bought 12 racks of ribs, and we’d smoke em on both of our smokers, have a few single malts and maybe a good cigar, and shoot the shit about the ride, life and whatever else comes to mind.
After my wife refused that plan in a way that no man could deny, I woke up the next morning in my own bed headed to Draper to meet up with my brother.
Pulled into my brothers house and started prepping for the biggest BBQ I’d ever done. Planned on 50 people, and I was in charge of the spare ribs. Apple wood smoked for 6 hours, and my homemade BBQ sauce recipe.
My Bro and I, making the BBQ sauce. After eating real texas BBQ, I’ll never sauce a rib again. Its on the side if you want it.We ended up smoking 9 racks, and they turned out good. BBQ is like golfing. You can always think you coulda played that one hole better.The oldest granddaughter (and my favorite niece), and my 101 year old Grandma. She’ll make 102 Easy.1967 Lincoln Continental that was owned by my Dad.
Our oldest brother showed up in the Lincoln. My dad bought this car in 1986. I helped him strip it down, and build it back up. Suicide doors, power steering, cruise control, monster engine. Classic Detroit Sled. My Oldest brother bought it later down the line, and finished it off. He did a killer job. The old man would have been proud.
Joking with my brother. He’s a good soul.
The plan was… (and I missed the memo), was that this day was our Fathers Birthday. We were all to bring something that reminded us of dad.
I will say this: Vern Dunn was a solid and good man. There are not many who are born into the world who had the charisma, the compassion and the sheer ability to kick ass as my dad did, all in the right combinations. Just a good man. We’re all proud to spring from the guy. We all took our turn and told a story about our father.
Pat (Skeezix, as named by my dad), telling a story about our pop.The beat goes on. My kids never knew him. Missus Zip, the kids and I listened In. Values, they happen from the ground up. Glad to see them sticking.We all took our turn, and told our stories. A good day.
I started to blog to remember the trips I’ve made a bike over the years. I look back on it, and I read them, as a record of things I want to remember in life. This is one of those days. Pretty cool. When you strip it all down to nothing, family means everything.
I woke up and felt like George Hanson in a jail cell. When I looked in the mirror, I saw Keith Richards was staring at me. It’d been a long trip. Burbon Street is an interesting place.
I was to meet Graham in the lobby, but I was 10 minutes late. The plan was to go over to St. Louis Cemetery and see some scenes from the movie. Graham must have seen Keith Richards in the mirror too, he didn’t show so I figured i’d spy it out myself. I’m always up for coming back.
They filmed the acid trip scenes here. In fact, this was the first parts of the movie that they filmed, in 16mm film, instead of 35mm. If you watch the movie, you can tell the quality isn’t as good. They came down with 30 grand, no plan and Dennis Hoppers ego and the movie nearly ended before it began.
They even missed Mardi Gras by a month. If you notice in the movie, you don’t see the main Actors in the parade. They rounded up as many people as they could, and tried to re-create it.
St Louis Cemetery #1 was where they dropped the Acid the Hippy Gave them. They Quartered it. You’re running out of time.Same Spot, 2013. I’m hip about time.Acid in the 60’s musta been like the Tequila of the 2000’s. Huh, who’d have thought.St Louis Cemetery #1, in 2013There’s a story here.Same spot, 2013
Peter Fonda’s mother committed suicide when he was 10 years old. He didn’t know the full story or the reasons why for years. Dennis had convinced Peter to get up on that statue and talk to his mother in this scene. He didn’t want to do it. It was just way too personal, and and to this day he is both embarrassed and proud of that scene in Easy Rider. He laid it right out there.
When you watch the movie again, you can hear Peter say “shut up! Shut up!”. Dennis was a madman on the set back in those days, they’d just started filming and he’d started an argument while Peter was up there, laying his guts out on camera. He was trying to get through this, and he intermittently kept telling Dennis to shut the hell up. Tells you a lot about Peter Fonda, and his commitment to this film.
When they finished making the movie, they worked on getting a soundtrack for it. In Krotz springs, I told the story about how they’d gotten Bob Dylan to do a song for the film, and his reluctance to do it. Peter told Bob about the filming of this scene, and his own reluctance to say what he’d said. That point, was what finally convinced Bob Dylan to put a song on this film, after a few hours of debate. He scribbled down the words to “the Ballad of Easy Rider” on a piece of paper, and gave it to Peter. He told them to have Roger McGuinn of the Byrds put music to it. It was the final song of the movie. That was in 1969.
The Easy Rider graveyard/Acid trip isn’t my favorite part of this film, but I can appreciate the significance of it. It holds a lot of weight to the movie, and it’s a big part of what makes it such a classic period piece of film. It happened.
I didn’t want to get another cab. It was early, and figured I’d walk the few miles back to the hotel. I was in Nawlins, and I wanted to get a better feel for the city.
Hey, on a lighter note: This was Peter Fonda’s Escort in the movie of Easy Rider: Toni Basil. She was Hawt.
Toni Basil Easy Rider
Toni Basil in 1981. Still fine, and holding it together. You know you like this song. I’m not gonna lie, I do.
I walked back to the Hotel.
New Orleans is old. Lots of history here methinks.New Orleans, Louisiana
We were to meet at 3 so we could ride the bikes into EagleRider and turn em in. I got some lunch, took a nap, and took in more of the day. We all met in the parking garage of the Hampton Inn French Quarter, told some stories from the night before, and rolled out in the rain for the final time. It was cool, but knowing it was over pretty much sucked.
EagleRider, New Orleans. Turning the bikes in.
3181 miles minus the 11 I had when I pulled her out of Los Angeles is 3170 miles in 2 good weeks.
We took a trolley car back to the Hotel, after we’d turned the bikes in. Brandon had headed out that morning with Captain America in tow, on to another tour. Steve originally had had to leave us, but in the end he was able to stay and turned us onto a good restaurant in the french quarter. After a couple of hours, we walked down the french quarter, to the Court of Two Sisters. This was a really nice place.
Tim made a pretty damn funny comment about the Blues Brothers.
I stared across the table at the people I’d ridden with for the last two weeks. I really liked these people. I’ll be honest, I’m a prick. I don’t like many. But Ana, Steve, John, Peter, Linda, Pete, Graham, Phil, Helio, Howard, June, Martine, Big D, Timmy, Bruno, Shawn, Bob, Brandon. You all made this ride fun. It was nice to share what I knew, and even better to learn what you knew.
We paid the bill, worked our way out, and said our goodbyes.
Corner of Bourbon and Toulouse. Madame Tinkertoys house of Blue LIghts, New Orleans Louisiana. Where George Hanson Never Went, we did. Easy Rider Inaugural Tour 2013.
We all went our separate ways. Tim and I walked Bourbon Street, had a few beers and shot the bull. We rounded back to the bar near the hotel and talked a bit. Pete & Linda, and Paul and Martine showed up for a few.
Then it was over. I went back to the Hotel. I’d fly out in the morning.
The Last Morning Hotel Ritual. Lake Charles Louisiana
We woke up, had a little of that continental breakfast and got ready to head out. Today was different, and I’ll be honest it had a bit of weight to it for me. It’d be our last day riding.
Tonight, we’d be in New Orleans. The 2 places on the Easy Rider Route that I’d never seen we’d see today, but I’ve gone over them a million times in my head. I was excited to see those places, but I knew I was going to miss these people I’d spent the last 2 weeks riding with. I felt pretty determined to enjoy the day, like I’d enjoyed the last 12. I did.
Paul and Martine on the Captain this morning. Paul is as cool as a cucumber. That Martine? I think she’s trouble. She’s just got that look in her eye. Yep. Trouble.
We loaded up, and headed out.
Louisiana has a completely different feel than Texas. After 3 days in the Lone Star State, I was still getting a bit adjusted mentally to this place. I really liked Texas. I wanted to like Louisiana. This is the deep south, a little Lynard Skynard was in order for this adjustment I felt. Maybe a little more southernish rock would do the trick. It certainly didn’t hurt.
The road ahead was funny. We got into a funeral procession. Cars were randomly pulled off to the side of the road, and the speeds were erratic. When you take up 1/4 mile of road, you don’t always know whats going on head. Some old boy in a 1979 Toyota Courrier veered into our lane when we tried to pass. I wasn’t sure if it was because we were tourists, or because Paul and Martine had a yankee flag on their bike. It was time to get my shit together. I’m not one to let my imagination get away with me.
About an hour later, we pulled into Eunice Louisiana and got fuel.
Eunice Louisiana. Big D wanted another turn at the Captain
We fueled up and watered up. The weather for the first time this trip was fairly ominous. It was looking like rain, but 60 miles in we still hadn’t hit it. Maybe we’d luck out. At this point, I didn’t really care. The weather this whole trip had been perfect. If it rained, it rained. There were things to see, and places to go.
I still couldn’t quite shake this “last day” thing. Krotz Springs (the final shots of the movie) were in 40 miles. I’d maybe tell the last of what I knew about Easy rider there. Graham and I both talked about it when were getting gas.
Big D was dying for another turn at riding Captain America. He spent the next 40 miles into Krotz Springs, being as obnoxiously happy riding as anyone I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t help but openly smile about it. He revved it up at intersections, cracked it wide open and was just thrilled to be there. It was pretty awesome. John had his helmet cam on and tried to catch him on the long runs. Big D was pulling away at 100 mph. Big D is awesome.
We hit Krotz springs. Missed the turnoff, and that was cool. I wanted to cross that bridge anyway. We looped back, and up the couple of miles, north of Krotz Springs. This is where Easy Rider ended.
We were there. In that exact place. It hasn’t changed much since 1969.
The question: “Want me to blow your brains out?”The Answer.
There are a lot of ghosts here. I tried to explain a few of them:
I remember Graham in death Valley, 2 weeks earlier. Seeing Captain America round those hills and corners with us in tow, and feeling a sense of pride that we were doing the inaugural tour. I gotta think that Captain America hadn’t been here, on the full ride since 1969. I knew this day was coming. It was in Death Valley that I figured I wanted to ride Captain America out of Krotz Springs. The movie ended here, but the tour wasn’t ending for us. I just wanted to ride that bike out, where Captain America Didn’t. I got that chance.
You don’t get many, but for me this was a perfect moment.
We doubled back through Krotz Springs, along the levee road that contained the Atchafalaya river. The road became a gravel road, and we slowed right down. The captain America bike has a helluva long rake. I had a few times where the front wheel kept one track, and the back tire kept another. A little squirrely, for a bike I’d spent all of 10 minutes on. At one point I was going to be the guy that took her down, but she held steady. Steve was nervous for taking us on this road. I was just happy to be there to be honest. I knew noone was going to take this bike on this road again for EagleRider, so it was all good.
Another good reason big D was MVP of this ride. I’m sure he ate some gravel.
After about 3 or 4 miles, We finally hit some pavement.
And headed a bit east on Interstate 10.and hit up a car wash in Breaux Bridge Louisiana.
It started raining with the sun out. The captain doesn’t have front fender, and without it, all that water goes right up into your face. Like, right into your glasses. I could barely care. I was on the Captain on a Louisiana backroad. Try and wipe that smile off my face….What else would I rather be doing?
We rolled into St Martinville, and ate at a cool little restaurant in an old house. I had frog legs and Alligator, for the first time. We talked and Laughed. This was to be a good day.
St Johns Restaurant.
The ladies, St Martinville Louisiana.
I must have coasted the Captain in on fumes. She wouldn’t start. Brandon had my back. He put a gallon of gas into her, and we headed out. The rain had stopped by now.
A little AC/DC fueled the way.
There was a dinner for us in New Orleans, and we had a deadline.
Downtown Franklin Louisiana
My only regret of the entire trip is that we didn’t get to explore Franklin more. I had things to show there, but we were rushed to get to the hotel for the farewell dinner. I wanted to see more of it, and my thought was I’d ride back to it the next day and take some pictures. I never did that.
John rode the Captain out of Franklin. He got some great footage of it.
What it looked like in 1969. This footage was from Coyote New Mexico, to Franklin Louisiana.
107 miles to New Orleans. Took in the scenery, twisted the throttle and tried to take in as much as I could. Listened to a little Zeppelin along the way. It hit the spot.
Dr Phil was on the captain, it rained a little, then stopped. We rounded into our Hotel at New Orleans.
Graham: here’s to the first of the day Gentlemen….We all took a turn. Nic Nic….
Fut Fut Fut….Indians!
We’d seen a lot this day. It was almost 7 PM, and we had a half an hour to get cleaned up, and be in the lobby for the limo to go and eat. We all rallied, and made it on time.
Mulates, some Cajun Music, and some Cajun Cooking.Tim dancing with another man. Tim is not gay, not that there is anything wrong with being gay.Singing Danny Boy with the neighboring table
I had a blast. The band even sang me happy Birthday, along with everyone else. Some Cajun music and food, then we retired to the back of the restaurant where it was a little more quiet. Is this the way to Amarillo?
The last day of Riding on the Easy Rider Inaugural Tour. Best 2 weeks ever. Big D got MVP (well deserved), and we all got patches.
EagleRider Inaugural Easy Rider Movie Tour May 2013
We left Mulates, and walked down to Burbon Street. Graham and I had some fun, and saw the sights.
I couldn’t believe it was almost over.
Day 12 – Easy Rider Movie Locations Tour – 299 Miles
