June 16, 2014
After breakfast with Angie, Blake and I were on the road by 9am. 412 to Dyersburg. Saw a bald eagle between Dburg and the river. Rode to Sikeston and 60 across MO. Hot and windy. Blake is getting used to his Limited and riding on my schedule! His ass isn't as tough as it used to be! Road lunch in Mt View, MO. Bologna and hot sauce. I love road lunch. The only way to go. Getting GoPro dialed in. Tried to make it to Pittsburg Kansas but closed roads and fatigue had their way with us. Made it to Joplin MO. Still lots of tornado damage. Rode Rt 66 for a while. Still want to ride the whole thing. Steaks and whiskey for Blake's birthday. Big tornadoes in Nebraska today. We'll stay south. Total day=494 miles.
Blake Stabenow, Eric Jones and I were the best of friends in college. We were brothers, riders, playmates. We ran together, played together, talked together, traveled together, dreamed together. After Eric's death and graduation, Blake and I went our separate ways. I went on to marriage, the family motorcycle business and fatherhood and Blake on to his successful career in commercial construction in New Orleans eventually marrying and becoming a father himself. We would still talk on the phone from time to time and enjoy an occasional dinner and drinks whenever Angie and I would travel to NOLA. Other than a small refugee stint Blake pulled at my house after hurricane Katrina, we really haven't been able to spend that much time together. But then, a few weeks ago, after reading the above linked blog, Blake called me. He'd been up to Redfield many years back, but wanted to go again. I'd planned for this journey to be a solo trip, but Blake would be a natural addition and I was excited to have him along.
June 17, 2014
I just thought yesterday was hot and windy..... Perfect morning. On the road at 7:30. We got to Fort Scott and turned west. That's where the wind kicked in. Blew like hell. The sun is really baking the hell out of us too. Kansas is a lot bigger than it looks on the map. Went to the Harley Store in Junction City for Blake to get gloves. His hands look like lobsters. We turned west on 24 at Ft Riley Kansas. Crossing the lake, the wind nearly blew us off the road. West=suck. North=Good! Once on 24, the temp started to climb. That little piece of shade I was looking for to have road lunch was elusive. Had big plans early today to make North Platte. Nope. Made it to Kearney Neb. Pop and I stayed here on our 1990 trip. Whiskey in the pool and more great conversation with Blake. We truly "embraced the suck" today! Good Mexican food at the Irish-Mexican joint next door... Total miles today= 575 1069 total trip.
As I've said before, this trip has been on my radar for years. I had no idea what I wanted to do, yet I knew exactly how I wanted to do it. I wanted to be fluid. I didn't want stringent plans and GPS processed routes. I didn't want to have hotel reservations made in advance (though my sweet wife was a godsend back in civilization for handling my travel agent legwork once I knew where we'd end up). I wanted to ride, and reflect, and think. Blake was turning out to be a great travel companion. Road trips are complex things and can be stressful, but Blake was so agreeable to all of my "lack of plans". We talked and talked. Mostly about Eric. And about our lives when he was still here. We talked about what we'd missed over the years without him. We talked about how much he'd have loved to sit there and be bullshitting right along with us. The next morning, before departure, I stuck Jones's pic in my windshield.
June 18, 2014
Out of Kearney at 7am. Nebraska is so much better than Kansas. Up through the Sand Hills. I do not know where all the coal trains are coming from but the coal business must be good! Made great time. Decided to skip Wyoming today and go to Deadwood. Rode Needles Highway. Road lunch at Sylvan. Left a couple of pictures of Jones along the way.
Stayed at the Hickok Hotel. Steaks and conversation with Blake were great. Made a few bucks off of Kevin Costner at his casino... Miles today=502, total=1572
I'd brought along about a dozen pictures of Eric. When I printed them, I had no idea what I wanted to do with them, but on this third day, it became obvious. I planted the first one up on the Needles, and the second by the beautiful lake Sylvan. The trip was starting to take shape. Meanings were coming out of the fog.
June 19, 2014
Last nights Jack Daniel's left my brain cloudy this morning, so an early start was not to be. Got off slow out of Deadwood and on the road at 10:30 after breakfast at the Bullock Hotel. Rode Spearfish Canyon. That has to be one of the most beautiful rides I've ever taken. Got to bring Angie here. Quite cold. In the low 60's. Almost got run over by a cowboy and his trailer in Belle Fourche. I was better than he, though. Up 212 into Montana for pictures and then south towards Devil's Tower.
Wyoming is spectacular. Typical western road construction. They just tear the road up and put you in the dirt. It was really bad coming back through Custer though. Muddy switchbacks and crazed dumptrucks. In for the night at the Adoba "Eco" Hotel in Rapid City. I don't know what that means either but they have good laundry machines and bison oso buco.... Left some pictures of Jones in some great places today.... Badlands tomorrow!!! Odometer=294, total =1864.
At this point of the trip, it seems that we'd been on the road for months. Not that I was tiring of it, hell no, but it was almost like I could hardly remember us not being out there. I don't know how someone can own a motorcycle and not ride it in the western United States. WHY would someone have one and not ride it in the western US? Blake and I hadn't missed a beat. We were now older and wiser, but at heart, we were still the same 20 year old kids that we'd once been. We laughed at the same things, tried to remember old times and made up fabulous fabrications when gaps found their way into our recollections. We cut up and laughed and opened our mouths and souls and let the last 20 years of long distance camaraderie find their way out and into the open air of the Black Hills and Great Plains. In the coming days, we'd need that wisdom and insight into the world that those two 20 year olds couldn't have mustered.
June 20, 2014
Today might be my favorite day so far. The Badlands were simply spectacular. Rode up from Interior. Got some really good stuff on the GoPro. Took a hike up on one of the mesas and left Jones in a perfect spot overlooking the kind of canyon that he'd spend hours in. (Jones's Canyon) I'd sure like to think that the pictures I'm leaving will last. Got some rear facing shots of Blake with the suction cup mount. BUT, while riding with the camera mounted on the fairing, it flew off!! Running!!! The footage was awesome though.... (Suction Cup Failure...) Couldn't have scripted it better! Out of the Badlands and into Wall. Wall sucks. Tourist hell. Good Buffalo burger and a cold beer at the Red Rock. Rode up north through the Cheyenne River Reservation.....
Websters defines the word "epiphany" as: a moment in which you suddenly see or understand something in a new or very clear way. I don't know what the catalyst was, but there on that highway through the land of the Oglala........ mine arrived. That night, in my little Gettysburg SD motel room, I would continue to write...
.....Spent the better part of the last of today's leg thinking on Eric and the real reasons for this ride. When I left home, I really had little idea of what I was going to do with it. I've started to get it though. My conversations with Blake have revealed to me that he too has very little recollection of Eric's funeral. We were so young and so ill prepared to deal with what was going on around us. It all happened so fast. He was there and then he was gone. Just like that. Eric died. I hate that. I'm pissed about it. Parents should never have to bury their children, but also, children should never have to bury their playmates. Though our birth dates made us adults, the truth is, We were CHILDREN!!
I hate that he died. I hate that his parents lost their son and his siblings lost their brother. I hate that he never got to meet my children. I hate that he never knew Angie. I hate that I was never able to meet the beautiful girl that would've become his wife, nor his sweet children. I hate that I never got to witness his surely remarkable career unfold and regale in his stories of being a Marine Pilot. And what a Marine he'd have turned out to be... I hate that we missed all of these trips. I hate all of it and I've realized that hate is all I've had for 20 years. I never got to say goodbye and experience the closure that a funeral is supposed to bring. I couldn't. I was there, but only in body.
So here is this ride. My LIFE CELEBRATION for Eric Jones. An 8 day funeral and wake. I've drug that kid all over the country and delivered eulogy after eulogy all over God's creation. I've no ashes to spread, as they were placed in that Redfield SD grave, but I've spread his life, memory and photo likeness.... Tomorrow, we go to Redfield. Tomorrow, Blake and I will bury the dead Eric Jones. I'm leaving the dead one there. I'm leaving the darkness there. I'm leaving the visions of March 3 there. I'm leaving all that hate there too.
I'm thankful for this level of clarity, as I didn't know what in the hell I was going to do when I got there. I feel better. It's amazing what a 10 mile cry can do... Odometer=331, total=2195.
Sleep that night would be sparse, at best.
June 21, 2014
The wind is howling outside as a storm is starting to roll in. The bikes are secure, however, and we are safely out of the weather an one of my favorite places on Earth for the healing of the mind and soul. I'm in the Greatroom of the Southfork Lodge in Dallas, SD. I'm so thankful for my friendship with Tommy Walsh and Rick Lutt and I'm grateful for them allowing us to stay here tonight. It's quite different today than during the pheasant season!
Well.... We made it to Redfield today at about 10am and spent a few hours at the grave of our old and greatest pal. Spent a lot of time talking to Blake about the same thoughts I'd written on previous pages last night. The day was more beneficial than I could've planned for in my wildest dreams. Unbeknownst to me really, Blake was dealing with the same demons as I. He too had made the Redfield trek in years past but, like me, it hadn't changed a thing for him. As I'd said, we were both too young and didn't deal with it. Eric died while we were in school, in the house I was calling 'home'. It happened, and the multitude of families swooped in, planned and executed a funeral, packed him and his things and they were off. We were left there with nothing. We'd spent the last 20 years as characters in God's tragic Theater of the Absurd-The Death of a Child.... And we didn't even know it.
But now, it is done. The 20 year old funeral for our old dear friend is done. I finally buried Eric Jones today. With him, I buried the legacy of sorrow and death. Of sadness, anger, tragedy, and hatred. All that remains is life and smiles.
Tomorrow, we ride hard... Southward, hoping to get deep into and perhaps even out of Kansas.
But tonight, we shall drink and laugh, and remember our friend.
Odometer= 287
Total=2483
Eric's parents were native South Dakotan's that found themselves living on opposite ends of the country at the time of his passing. They laid his remains to rest in a cemetery in their hometown, surrounded by family. I find it amusing and not ironic that Eric is in the farthest plot in the farthest northwest corner of the cemetery. Off to himself one last time. Blake and I came. We cried, and walked, and laughed, and drank, and reminisced, and held each other. I sang, played guitar, yelled, and rested. We left a picture of a young man in his prime, a copy of an unrealized 5-Year Plan, pierced and held to the ground by a small USMC flag.
And when I left, I left with plans to never return. If I feel the need to 'visit' Eric again, I'll visit him in all those other places I left him.... The Black Hills, Devil's Tower, The Badlands, Frank Day's, and the 3,576 miles of highway across this beautiful country where he now rests. It's where he'd rather me meet him anyway.
Thank you Angie Bumpus for the understanding and support you showed by letting me jet out into the unknown with very little regard to your worries. Thank you Blake Stabenow for being with me, and for Lacy Stabenow for making sure you were aware of my plans.
Healing is sweet. Release is sweet. It didn't require anything but time. My therapist was a blacktop highway and a machine. My doctors office was the great expanse of our beautiful nation.
I love you, Eric Scott Jones. This was the trip we didn't get to take. It was a celebration of you and "us" and all things that we loved. Rest in Peace, my brother. I'll see you again.
1971-1994
Ride Safe, and With Purpose.
SMB
