CHAPTER THIRTY
I had wanted a motorcycle since childhood. I had never ridden one, though I had ridden a moped in Turkey and Monterey. Seeing my friend Miles, originally from Illinois, ride his Yamaha Virago around Sonora made me want to get one too.
In the spring of 1996, I found a 1987 Honda VFR 700 Interceptor for sale in Sacramento. I clearly remember charging $1,600 on my credit card, which had to be very close to my credit limit. Looking back now, I can’t quite understand how I had such a high credit line, because my income from working at Coyote Creek was only around $800 a month at the time (about $1,600 today). I think it was a brand-new card, with a high interest rate, and somehow the company had allowed me to get it.
The Honda was a heavy machine, so I had a few close calls, especially on the steep hills in Sonora, where there were lots of stop signs. If you let a motorcycle lean too much to either side as you come to a stop, it becomes very difficult to support the weight and keep it upright with your leg. It can easily fall on its side. Good balance was extremely important when I rode the Honda, and hills were always a challenge.
My friend Ron also loved riding motorcycles and racing cars. He worked at his brother's auto shop in town and had a very nice Suzuki 750 GSXR. After James moved out of the apartment we shared on Greenley Road, I moved into Ron’s house in Soulsbyville, where he was living with his girlfriend, and we all became roommates. At an elevation of almost 3,000 feet, it snowed quite a bit in Soulsbyville in the winter. It was gorgeous to look at, but not so much fun when it came to driving.
One summer day I was very down and out and I figured going for a ride with Ron would distract me. What started out as cruising quickly turned into a race on the curvy country roads of Tuolumne County.
Not only did Ron have a faster bike than mine, but he was also a better and a more experienced rider than me. We were going pretty fast near Soulsbyville and he was a short distance ahead of me when the road started to curve to the left.
I knew I should have leaned more to my left to take the curve, but I didn't, and I crashed. It was almost as if I could see the accident coming and knew exactly what to do to avoid it but didn't feel like making the effort. It was like I wanted something else to worry about, in order to ease the pain of feeling depressed. I guess I preferred physical pain over emotional pain. I let the bike go and ended up on the gravel.
As a result, I had a lot of road rashes all over my body, especially my back. The road rashes were very painful, especially when trying to shower, because making contact with water hurt a lot. It was not as painful as what I’d suffered after the car accident, though.
I have a huge level of respect for motorcycle riders on the road. While I know how crazy and dangerous some can ride, jeopardizing the safety of others, they are nevertheless very vulnerable. I do my best, when driving in my car, to be considerate and make it easier for them to ride. I always do what I can to create space for them in traffic. While many motorcyclists have years of experience, some of them are beginners — and age has nothing to do with it; people can buy their first motorcycle at any age. Take it easy on these riders and keep an eye out for them when you’re on the road!
Ron came to visit me a few years ago with a pet goat in his car. He told me a story about building a motorcycle and going to a show in Virginia City. He said this older guy was impressed by his bike and approached him to chat with him about what he had built. Only after he noticed more and more people slowing down to take pictures as they drove by did he realize that this was somebody famous. Eventually it dawned on him that it was Robert Redford. Many of Robert Redford’s movies had a lot of influence on me growing up, such as Brubaker and All the President’s Men. I told him he had the honor of meeting the Sundance Kid. Now if we could only bring back my other idol, Butch.
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