I feel sick writing this… I’ve been through hell over the past year and this tops everything. The tour that was supposed to start next Friday, has been canceled.
Long story short, for the past 6 months I’ve been doing everything possible to get my license and bike legal for the sole purpose of going home to try and win back the woman I love. While I’m not stupid enough to think she’ll give me another chance, I hope that she’ll at least know I was able to turn things around and I can be the man she fell in love with. I’m expecting her to slam the door in my face and tell me to fuck off.
I figured while I was on the road, I’d visit some friends and cook in some weird places so why not film it for your enjoyment? It’s not like I haven’t been doing this for the past 20 years anyway.
After spending over $500 and close to 18 hours on the phone or in an office with the Dmv, my license was supposed to be cleared last Sunday when I passed my riders course. Getting that certification was all I needed to ride legally and finally do this.
Plot twist, it’s not.
I was taking photos in the backwoods of Goochland Virginia and someone called the police saying I looked suspicious. When the cop came I knew what was up but, haha, I had my shit together for once in my life . I gave him my paperwork and thought I’d be on my way with maybe a warning for trespassing.
Imagine running an obstacle course and having the piss beaten out of you every step and then finally making it to the finish line. Right as you start to experience that sweet sweet taste of victory and breathe in the sense of accomplishment….. you get sucker punched in the gut. That’s almost what it was like when the cop told me my license was suspended and that I had to find someone to pick up my bike or he would have to have it towed.
As you can tell, I wasn’t able to find someone with a truck.
The silver lining is that the cop is also a rider and since he didn’t see me on the road and everything checked out, I didn’t go to jail for a suspended license. While he had to tow the bike, it didn’t get impounded and the tow truck driver was nice enough to point out that his job was to drop off the bike and that the interstate was a mile away.
Keep in mind that up until I had gotten my paperwork signed, I hadn’t so much as rode the bike to the store up the street for fear I’d get pulled and fuck up everything. For the first time in my life, I tried to act like a law abiding adult. There’s no way in hell I’d be riding in the middle of nowhere unless I honestly thought I was legal.
I’m not going to say how the bike and I ended up at a shitty motel by the airport but we did. I’m also not going to say how it got home since…
Oh, it gets better.
I called the DMV to find out what in the absolute fuck was going on since I’m on a payment plan and took the safety class that I was assured would clear me to ride. I was told that I have to hold my learners permit for two months meaning that I can’t ride legally until the middle of May. Keep in mind, I don’t own a car nor have I in over a decade. On the other hand I am paying insurance on a bike I can’t ride.
It’s been a while since I flipped that hard.
At least I was smart enough to hang up the phone before I said anything that would have resulted in another visit from the cops. The fact that I kept my cool at all is amazing given the fact that not only is my license still suspended, I can’t get it legal for 6 more weeks.
The sliver of hope…
There’s a chance, a small one that I can take another class (as if I have the money) and get things fixed sooner. The problem is that I don’t see it happening this week so the tour is still canceled since I just don’t have the funds or time.
Will I still cooking and filming? Yes, I think so but I don’t know where, when or for who.
The odds that I’ll pull it off are higher than I am right now and, objectively speaking, taking into account all of the variables, weather, mechanical issues, basic bitches on their phones and speed freak truckers, it’s by far the dumbest thing I’ve ever attempted.
I do have a few things working in my favor. I know life on the road better than most and as exhausting as it is to ride long distance, being a Chef means that I’m more or less an endurance athlete despite the fact I’m a heavy smoker. I have no expectations that the ride will be fun or enjoyable, I know it’s going to hurt, I know it’s going to be cold and I know that I’ll question my sanity every mile of the trip. I also know that I’ll do everything in my power to get home and make things right even if it means going through hell.