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| Okay fine, I wasn't thinking the entire flight. Who takes a picture like this? This reminds me of an interesting trivia question. Who was legally forbidden from wearing a black mask?? |
The week before we left we had three contacts from people we had met the years before in Coachella valley wondering if we were returning and hoping to see us. Makes you feel good.
As the plane touched down in Phoenix I took my phone off airplane mode there was a message from "crouching tiger". One of the former horse trainers at the Coachella ranch. It appeared to be quite lengthy so I thought I would wait to read it on the ride to Barbs.
The hiccups start. Because of a miscommunication poor Barb had been waiting at the airport for over two hours. What a great friend, I'm sure she was tempted to just leave us.
During the ride I let Ruthie and Barb catch up and I concentrated on the message from "crouching Tiger" She had elected to leave the ranch shortly after we left. It was long, very long, I will be lucky to finish it during the ride. I decided to skim and read it slower when we arrive in California. I had often teased her to see if she would last the 60 days which in my opinion is the average employ of a horse trainer at the ranch. Perhaps this was therapy for her as she relived in detail some of frustrating days and specific events at the ranch working with "Bobbie and The Don". She has an amazing memory, writing in detail events with the horses and employers as she was berated, belittled and put in harms way by the pair. As she shared each event it brought back memories of our time there and made me feel good about our decision not to return for another year. But then one of her paragraphs raised my ire some. She mentioned "Bobbie" was giving her some training in horse handling techniques. Like her namesake (Bobby Knight) she does not have patience or tack. And even though I have never witnessed her throw a chair across a basketball court. The foals at the ranch lay witness to the violence they have endured during her "gentle" training sessions. Evidently during the reprimand "Bobbie" didn't think "crouching tiger" was listening. "See that's where Vern got himself in trouble, he could Never take direction. And that's why he screwed himself out of coming back to work next year!". (what would have made this even more amusing is we had accepted their offer to return this winter.) Showing some discretion I chose not to share this with Ruthie, I can almost hear her now. No since causing a fuss since we are close to Barbs. It would be interesting however to get Ruthie and "crouching tiger" together to relive there frustrations.
Moving the trike outside to avoid gassing their garage it started almost immediately. And then the smell of gas. At least two of the carburetors were spewing raw gas out the top. Check the shutoff's. Tight. Check hoses. Okay. I guessed that the floats must be sticking, Only slightly irritated at this point as I had been so careful to store it according to the manuals procedure. What to do? Kibitzer's were offering advice, I tried to be polite as sometimes its hard to listen and formulate a plan in your mind. The pressure was on. Another hiccup, a call from our Craigslist trailer. He was only going to be home for a little while longer. What? He said he was going to be around all day, finally he said he would be home later that evening. This would give me some time to work on the trike . The last thing I wanted to do was take a carburetor apart, it might mean we would be hung up for days. I was pretty determined to head for Hemet the next morning. Letting everyone know I was taking it out on the freeway I played on again off again with the fuel shut off. I found I could turn it on for about four seconds
and ride for awhile. I started calculating how many miles I could ride without turning it back on, yup that's the way my mind works. Pretty determined. At one point I think I calculated it would take 72 fuel dumps to get to Hemet. I headed to an auto parts store and purchased a can of sea foam and chemtool b12 I was grasping at straws. A 1/4 can of each in the gas tank and down the freeway I went. Don't try this at home after all I am a trained professional although not on a closed course I brought it up to freeway speeds, alternating between gas on and gas off. Leaning over the right side of the trike, to look for fuel leaks. The leak was slowing down, the faster I went the further I could go with the fuel turned on. I headed back to Warren and Barbs, I had missed a call and was sure they were concerned with my safety. I felt I was on the right track and thought maybe some time just soaking in the mixture of gas/cleaner might do it some good. A while later and another burn down the freeway gave me more hope. Now to check on our Craigslist trailer. Hugh seemed sort of elusive and non committal about his return home. It was getting dark and around 8pm Ruthie and I headed over to Glendale, thinking if he called while en route we would be ahead of the game other wise we would wait in a coffee shop. With the fuel turned completely on Ruthie would shine the light on the enj I wanted to check out the address before we headed to a coffee shop and just a few houses short of our goal the phone rang. It was Hugh and he said he was heading for home. I said we were relieved as were very close to his home. When he found out how close we were he decided he had just arrived home, what?????
The locking cover that I had been promised was none existent. Evidently the key had been misplaced so they had drilled out all of the hinge bolts. I can't help but wonder if this was the reason for his stall tactics. Ruthie smelled horse and thought the trailer might have been used to haul something other than clean luggage on the way back to Glendale we stopped at a do it yourself carwash thinking the fifty miles back would air dry it. Back at Barb and Warren's we tried to not disturb the household as we retired for the evening. My mistake was thinking the TV room would be unoccupied so I took a shortcut through there. Unfortunately Warren was laid back in a recliner watching TV with his eyes closed. I thought I had preformed a great ninja move as I exited the other side however as the latch clicked I think I heard him stir. The day had wore on us, the flight, problems with the gas leaking, stalling by our trailer owner, and now off to sleep knowing we had to make the trailer road ready, pack it and ride over three hundred miles. And what awaits us in Hemet?
Sunday 2:30 AM The concerns of the days responsibilities wouldn't let me lay there. Another ninja move placed me in the attached garage. I don't think I disturbed anyone. Reminder I owe Warren a wash bucket, evidently they are not strong enough to hold up even the smallest trailers. Raise the trailer, remove the wheel bearings and seals. Repack with fresh grease. Adjust bearings. (I should mention that it doesn't go this fast, evidently the bearing dust covers hadn't been off in years and I was trying to observe some stealth as this 55 plus community probably frowns on garage noises at this hour. I was still working on the bearings as Ruthie came out to check on me. (She is used to my late night wanderings by now.). She started sorting and packing while I inspected the trailer undercarriage, made a trip to the hardware store for bolts, washers, nuts and a lock cylinder. Back in the garage I installed the cover. We are getting close. I showered while Ruthie finished the packing. It was like Christmas as she found the items we had left last year. My concerns had been in vain as she was able to get everything in. (What had that rider told us in Arkansas the first year? Pack to 60% of capacity when you leave on a trip.). What does he know anyway. With the trailer, the trikes trunk, and the bike tour trunk stuffed to overflowing, Ruthie carrying her purse and me with my shoulder bag (I don't care to use the term fanny pack) strapped to our body as there wasn't room on the trike.
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| Linda looks happy but where's Donnie? |
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| There he is, by the car. |
It was 12:45 PM as we exited Mesa. My nervousness about our little trailers tow worthiness was calmed as Ruthie kept checking on it as we flew down the freeway. Straight as an arrow. At every gas refill I checked the wheels for heat and tightness. We were doing great, anxious to get to Hemet a couple of construction sites that forced us to slow to a crawl for 45 minutes. A text from Lynda checked on our progress she mentioned that we were bringing in the rain. Rain, what??????? As we started the 30 mile descent into the Coachella valley it brought back memories of the last two winters here.
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| That's the Coachella valley with the sand filling the air. |
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| After our last fuel stop climbing out of the valley, just after Desert Hot springs. Notice the field of windmills in the bottom right corner. |
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