I have an old friend turning 60 on Tuesday. I think he sort of became an old curmudgeon but don't really know since we broke up back in 1979 and I met my soulmate who took me away from my small hometown, which keeps me from being in touch with Jimmy and other friends from my wild and crazy growing up years. We did have a couple of interesting adventures, one being a 2 week drive over lots of miles through Canada and a bunch of states. So in the spirit of the fun we had together all those years ago I'm sharing this very short memory.
The rest stop had cool green grass and was on a bluff that overlooked Lake Shasta. The picnic dinner set out on my coat in the grass consisted of a couple cokes, chips and wheat bread that had bologne between two slices. Twilight was descending a and the hot tip of the cigarette was visible as we inhaled. The parking lot was beginning to be less busy with the coming and going of Saturday traffic in interstate 5. The sleeping bags were unburied from where they were hooked to the Honda 750 motorcycle and thrown on the ground. We had a late start so would crash for the night at the rest stop just a couple hours from home. When the sunrise came it would get us up and moving to get an early start for day two of our couple week long ride into adventure. As I fell asleep under the wide sky seeing shooting stars, I didn't even realize I slumbered. That is until I felt showers on my face. I couldn't imagine it raining in June in northern California. The sun made a bright glitter on the lake waters as Jimmy and I quickly sprinted with our sleeping bags to the bike away from the Sunday morning sprinklers. The wet wake up was better than a cup of coffee. Just the paper towels from the rest stop bathroom, brownish and rough as I dried the best I could. I put on my jacket and figured I was going to get dry hair the natural way, wind from the highway as we rode north.