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

Many of you have probably guessed already that my journey to Washington DC started one day late as the result of the first California rain storm in 6 months. However, if the momentary disappointment was the price of the incredible day I had today, I was happy to pay it.

My ride…. it is impressive, no? Please take note of my completely awesome VOTE flag. It must be said that this particular flourish to my trip almost did not happen. It turns out that I could not purchase a stock motorcycle flag pole that fit my scooter. Enter my brother-in-law Marty McKay. The entire bracketing system was designed and precision machined to custom fit my bike by Marty. Also note, the quality of the photography will take a dramatic step downward as the previous photo and banner were provided by my dear friend Marisa Zucek. In a later posting I will be going into endless detail about the people who, as ever, have made my dreams their missions. For now, let me simply say, I am blessed.

My ride to Paso Robles was breathtaking. With the exception of right hand cramps (I totally underestimated the impact to your throttle hand on a long ride) it was nearly perfect.

Without question, the highlight of this day was my very first interview. I would like you to meet Hugh Ort from Iowa. A long haul trucker/Harley rider, he is a commanding presence. Hugh sports multiple tattoos and a Fu Manchu mustache and we met outside a general store south of Gilroy. It is safe to say, that he was as unexpected as he was colorful. I cannot express it better than Hugh,

[Click the play button below to hear the audio]

Hugh Ort from Iowa