Self discovery is a funny thing.  What starts out as a small observation, upon reflection, revels larger patterns.  It turns out that we are a pretty predictable lot.  I’ll try to explain.

My motorcycle riding friends warned me about this leg of my journey.  Long, straight runs that go on forever.  For most riders, there can be no worse fate that facing a day of curveless roads and flat terrain. 

Not for me.  I had the most amazing ride of my trip so far.  Yes, it was flat and straight.  But I was blessed with a ride free from traffic and wind through a landscape that came alive in orange hues and craggy geometries.  That feeling of being so small and still part of something so big.  Perfection.

It turns out that this was not a isolated reaction.  I have a history of getting lost in the frictionless straight lines of my pursuits.  When it came to years of windsurfing, I never felt drawn to the wave jumping gymnastic maneuvers of my peers.  Nope.  The rush of pulling back on the sail and flying across water was all I needed.  Later, it appeared again in my love of kayaking.  Short river kayaks and the challenges of maneuvering through turbulent river runs left me flat.  But put me in my 17″ ocean kayak with a long stretch of open water ahead, and it is as good as church for me.

But I digress.  This straight road led me to Needles, California.  It was here, in a restaurant parking lot that I met Michele Alvarado and Anita Holmes.

Anita is a Native American from the Fort Mohave tribe.  Michele is a descendant of the same tribe and both women work for the Fort Mohave Police Department.  They are active in their community and have raised 8 children, 7 grandchildren and one great grandson between them.  What follows is a remarkable example of the heroic struggles happening across our country and the even more remarkable people who are willing to share their story.

[Click the play button below to hear the audio]

Anita Holmes

For the record, I left this interview without ever asking who Michele and Anita were going to vote for.

Travel lessons from the road. Do not sit with a retired CHP officer at breakfast if you are riding a scooter in the desert.

It turns out that they are uniquely qualified to terrify you in ways that the un-uniformed cannot. I set out this morning toward the Tehachapi range in full knowledge of the winds that rail on both sides of the mountain. The result was 50 minutes of alternating between reciting the Lords Prayer and singing Amazing Grace loudly into my helmet.

Yes, I got tossed a little, but it was a spectacular ride.

This evening I was excited to go to DiNapoli’s Firehouse in Barstow to eat and watch the debate. Although the background music was so high, it was difficult to hear the TV and impossible to record the conversation, the food was great. It was here, however, that I encountered the first evidence of the rage that can be just below the surface of this election. I was engaged in a conversation with a couple from Sacramento, a local veteran named Dan and his best friend. Dan is working at Edwards Air Force base as a contractor. Suddenly, a man from another table approached our group and, leaning into Dan’s face, indicated that he had no business talking with us. He loudly instructed him to read the book ‘Liberal Fascism’, as it would tell him everything he needed to know. For the next 30 minutes, his anger grew as did his outbursts. I wish I could adequately capture the sadness of knowing his frustration and simultaneously feeling inadequate to reach out to him. When Dan and his friend left before the end of the debate, I decided their escort to my scooter might be a good idea, and followed them.

It is with this encounter in mind that I would like to share with you my interview with Michael Loughran.

Michael lives in Vista, California with his wife. He has grown children and is a sales rep for an engine company out of Tennessee. A kind spirit, he was raised in a staunchly Democratic household and after supporting Gore, Michael determined that he is much more aligned with the GOP platform. We talked at some length, which necessitated my clumsy editing. If you can look past that, you will hear his poignant story of a friendship lost over these politics.

[Click the play button below to hear the audio]

Michael Loughran

Let me be clear. The examples of fractured relationships and expressed, as well as suppressed, rage are felt on both ends of our political continuum. What reveals itself in these conversations is that most people want it to be different. My sense and hope is that it will be.

On a lighter note,

VOTE flag update: For Katie and Daniel, I promise to post a picture of the new flag as soon as I am able to get it printed and secured to the pole. Turns out that there are no Kinkos here in Barstow and it is not looking good for Needles tomorrow… a subject for another day. Thanks for your encouragement and love.

My day started this morning when I met Joey from Brown’s Motorcycle shop in Paso Robles, CA. Joey’s family pre-dates the railroad in these parts and you get the sense that he has forgotten more interesting stories than most of us will ever live. He was, however, microphone-shy and it was with grudging respect that I pulled away from his shop, with a new throttle grip and no interview.

Sadly, I have to report that my treasured VOTE flag went missing yesterday. It is unclear if it was stolen or fell off during my ride, but I have chosen to believe the latter. A little heartsick, I took off over Hwy 46 toward Bakerfield. It turns out that the charm of the back roads can also inspire ambivalence. Eighty eight miles of two lane, gravel shouldered, highway with lots of trucks can make you long for an interstate. The quaintness of a roadside cafe cannot make up for those moments staring at 3 oncoming semis whose wind gusts will make you more than willing to settle for a Quiznos next time.

My ride ended with the zipper on my new motorcycle jacket getting jammed so that I could not remove it. There is more to this story, but I will spare you. Suffice it to say that I found my way to Levie’s Tailor shop in Bakerfield where Levie herself freed me from my confinement. Now, the perfection in this moment was that Levie offered to make me a new flag for my bike. I quickly located a fabric store and took her up on her offer. I am one print shop and hardware store away from having my flag back. Very sweet.

Be assured that I did not forget my interviews today. Please meet Breta Yarborough.

Breta works full time as a third grade teacher and has two teenage children. We met while she was working at her second, or should I say third, job as a waitress at Margie’s diner. An independent who is undecided in this election, Breta is torn between her conservative views and her concerns for the state of our educational system. She was gracious with me, if a little bit shy.

Finally, I would like you to meet Amy Shivers. Also a waitress at Margie’s diner, Amy just moved here from Anchorage, Alaska this past January. A soft spoken women in a noisy environment, Amy was direct with a rare candor. She is mere 37 years old and has a grandson and a willingness to talk about both.

[Click the play button below to hear the audio]

Amy Shivers