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July 8, 2016

Day 6 - Friday(7/7) - SLO-town to Santa Maria

Update: I am alive and well and resting peacefully in Santa Maria, CA.

Starting Odometer: 41,787
Ending Odometer: 41,885
Miles driven today: 98 miles

It's Not a Good Idea...

I've had a long drive today. I drove all the way from San Luis Obispo to Pismo Beach, a distance of roughly 13 miles.

So, I finally get to Pismo, and I roll through town. I end up at the entrance to the Dunes, which is technically outside the city limits of Pismo Beach.

A man in a box guards the access to the beach.

"I wouldn't take that bike onto the beach," he offers. "It wouldn't be a good idea. People don't bring motorcycles like that down on the beach here. You might hit a soft spot..."

That's what the man in the box says. As if I care what he thinks. Like, I'm going to take advice on where to drive my motorcycle from a man who lives in a box. Like...dude...nobody asked for your opinion.

"How much does it cost to go on the beach?" I continue.

"Five dollars."

I hand him $5.00. He gives me a receipt and a piece of tape and starts fretting over where I should tape it.

"I think you should tape it here..." he offers hesitantly, "but it's up to you..."

I just tape it to the inside on the windscreen and drive onto the beach.

People are always trying to pour their fears into you. It's hard to know why. Is it altruism? Jealousy? Who could say for sure. But don't take advice from a man in a box, obviously. People who have given up their dreams will try to convince you to give up yours.

I drive onto the beach without dropping the bike. When I get down close to the water, I ask someone walking by to take my photo. They always look at the SLR like it's a Rubik's cube designed by demons. Like...how on earth could anyone master the complexity for this beast, and for what purpose?

But they blow through a frames and get some decent shots of me in spite of themselves.

Now, the waves come up onto the beach and even around the tires of the motorcycle. I should have listened to the man in the box. I beat a hasty retreat off of the beach and, by the grace of God, I don't drop the bike, although it's sliding all over the place in the sand.

I don't really know what I'm doing out here, of course. I mean...no sane man would spend the amount of time in the saddle that I do. I don't think there can be any argument against that.

And obviously, there's some fear there. Some indecision. Some second guessing. Now that I've made it to Pismo, I'm honestly having a hard time moving on. I don't really want to go any further. This is where my trips always end, really. I don't want to go to L.A. I never have wanted to go there. That's just sort of the inevitable conclusion. The final destination.

I'm also having a hard time with the calendar. I'm having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that today is Friday. As in, today is only Friday. Or, today is still Friday. Time seems to move very slowly when you're not working, and all you do is ride around the country on a motorcycle. I don't have to be at work until Monday, and I'm in no rush to get to Los Angeles. So, I think that I'll just hang out here for a few days.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 8, 2016 at 7:48 PM

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