I had hoped to sleep in late Sunday morning. Good fortune had provided me with a house to myself, espresso machine and dog included. Extreme charley horses woke me up early. I think they’ve been happening so much because of the new leg armor. They were the worst I’ve ever had. I woke up screaming, which in turn woke up the dog. He started barking and running around, in attempt to protect the house from attack. It gave me a much needed laugh.
I had a hard time falling back asleep. Then by 9am I started getting requests that I attend Beer Church. How could I refuse? I decided to hop on downtown to attend the Go Go Rilla Scooters Beer Church, at Che’s Lounge. Afterall, two calls, an email and a text later from Bald John-I would have felt rude to not go.
Bald John met me outside Che’s and walked me into a dim bar sanctuary, adorned with fantastic art and local barflies. A cold PBR was placed into my hand and those in the congregation welcomed me. Bald John made me feel comfortable right away, a characteristic the many fine people in Tucson share.
After talking for awhile, he told me that the Go Go Rillas wanted to offer me a massage at the spa where his lady works. After reading the blog, her and John decided this would be a kind thing to do. Indeed. We took a Church group photo and then John led me over to the spa. My masseuse David insisted that I stay to use the steam room and hot tub. He commented that my body was in horrible shape and that he wished our session had lasted longer. Without a doubt.
The Rillas are a great bunch of people. They all seemed interested in the ride and in helping to spread the word. They, like many people, told me they wish they had known in advance of my arrival. I too wish I had more time to reach out to scooterists, peace organizations, and volunteer organizations. They sent me on my way with some pretty styley matches-if you see me on the road, hit me up for some. Visit their website to see more photos of the day and to hear their catchy club song-I’ve had it in my head all day.
The days in Tucson went slowly; the desert seems to have its own time zone. Every time I checked the clock, it seemed to gain an hour. I am mesmerized by the desert landscape. I loved my host’s house, just enough land was scraped to put in a house. Low laying cacti surround the upward stretching Saguaros, while lizard, snakes, scorpions, bunnies and wolf spiders keep the landscape active.
However, the time passed just slowly enough to enjoy all the cool people I met. The Stirrat’s, my hosts, were such an enjoyable, smart, talented family. I really hope we stay in touch. The mechanic Ron who works for them, was so good to my scoot. Very few mechanics will open their shop up, but he wanted me to see everything he did. He made a list of all the work done; fixed some gaskets, changed the oil, tightened the loose valves, installed a new performance pipe and sent me off with two jets for the change in elevation. Very thoughtful guy. i was supposed to do some motocross with him on Sunday, but the unexpected massage kept me from that. Sorry Ron!
The Stirrats and I spent the night around the kitchen table. They’re very sharp, entertaining folk. I was putting music on the new iPod and double checking my route across the West to Yuma. I had some phone conversations with Shaun, who asked on Friday if he could ride with me to San Fransisco. I had sent him off with a list of stuff to buy for survival purposes. I checked in to make sure he was still game for the big adventure.
And to make sure he could meet me at the shop by 9:30 am. Although he sounded hesitant about that part his excitement to go on the ride was obvious.
Man, this guy has some gusto! He only has 660 riding miles under his belt and wants to put 2,000+ on his new Buddy in just two weeks. That’s round trip included.
I packed up my bags and then sat outside for a bit. I chugged a ton of water while doing so because I just can’t seem to get hydrated in this climate. Despite the impossibility of good sleep this past week, an energy moved through me that I can only attribute to the desert. The saguaro cactus takes 75 years to grow an arm. Perhaps time moves slowly, but deliberately.
Thank you to everyone for the generous welcome into Tucson. Your city has caught my eye-I would consider a move there in the future.
Peace to you Pueblos!