the fall

I have a head full of snot and congestion and even if my ears weren't damaged from the hours of screaming wind, I'd be too stuffed up to hear anything anyway. My nose has a beaver dam of goo that is preventing any of the rich summer scents from the Palouse from reaching my joy glands.

Sneezing while traveling... Advantage: Car.

Filling your enclosed helmet with snot while going 65 is a real bummer. An even bigger bummer is not having a way to clear that snot off the visor.

This isn't how I wanted my trip back here to be, but it's what I got and I'm making the best of it.

The ponderosa is a jungle of overgrown weeds and sad animals. Heidi is covered with sores and appears to be on the verge of giving in to death, which dropped my heart into my stomach. She didn't even get up to say hi when I came to the door. That hurt a bit.

The rest of the place is two foot high grass and weeds that used to be a moderately functional farm house and shop. Now it looks more like an answer to the riddle of whether man can really destroy the earth with his behavior. If you look at the six week overgrowth on the concrete, gravel and metal, you can tell that it won't take planet Earth much time to erase our presence or efforts.

The horses are gone. The chickens are running amok. The cats have disappeared. Inside the house packages are collecting that my brother hasn't opened yet. The house is still. You would never know that this place saved my life. Perhaps that's why I am so filled with sorrow to see it this way.

After a brief moment or two I dropped off my bag and headed to Pam's to see if she wanted to ride. A big hug and a smile is the best I can offer and I think that is really all she needed. Everyone else has advice for her, I just want her to ride with me. Get that bike of her's moving again.

We rode in heavy winds and brilliant sun and we loved the fields of green wheat. On a bike, you can be riding with ten thousand other people but still be able to be alone with your own thoughts and be in control of your environment. That balance can only be found on the back of a motorcycle.

We rode to Palouse falls and took in the view. I like waterfalls but for the lesser reasons than most people. What I like is the timing and patience and persistence of a waterfall. The fact that it's being working for thousands of years to cut into solid stone and make a place for itself. I like that it doesn't stop for any reason and that it will be there long after you have gone. That your brief stop didn't change a thing.

We rode on.

We rode across the high prarie and down into the forgotten valley. Pam went home and after a hug and smile and I headed on to Pasco for my shows. The long ride across the prairie alone was cold and my heart felt heavy.

The first show was empty but it went well. I couldn't hear my own jokes but the audience seemed to like them. After the show I went back to my hotel room and pushed my bike into the room so I could clean it and to prevent it from walking away.

I spent the next day sleeping and cleaning. When I felt the bike was clean enough, I cleaned it again. It was during this time that I started to notice things that were wrong with the bike - Missing bolts, loose nuts, and frayed cables. My head started to fill with doubt about my safety and I started to get anxious about the next 500 miles I had ahead of me.

That night, the show went really well. Partially because most of the snot had drained out and I could hear myself again. I went back to my room after the show and crawled into bed looking at the dark shadow of my pony at the foot of my bed. It was surreal. Perhaps I was sicker than I thought, but I was scared of the bike.

I woke up early...