Trip of the year
For years, I had waited to ride with my childhood best friend. Whenever I could ride, He couldn’t, and vice versa. Things just never seemed to work out. I would watch him go on rides with our group without me, painstakingly for years. I had been without a bike for a number of years after an accident, until recently. I scrimped and saved for over a year and bought myself two bikes.
The first bike was my now-deceased uncle’s 2001 VFR800. It had about 90,000 miles when I bought it. I paid a hefty $3000 for the bike. Surprisingly, it is nothing short of pristine. Having previously owned a 1991 VFR750 for several years during high school, I was all too familiar with the feats of engineering displayed within Honda’s Interceptor line. It was poetic to purchase a bike so dear to me, 10 years later and 10 years newer than my last VFR.
The second bike I purchased was a brand-new 2024 Honda Rebel 1100. After many modifications, auxiliary lights, chargers, bar risers, custom windscreen, sissy bar, backrest, dry bags, exhaust, etc, this was the bike I decided to bring on my first real ride with my brother.
The road from Wenatchee, WA, over to Bellingham across Stevens Pass, or US-2, is already a ride to behold. Curvy single-lane roads that range from 50 to 70mph, cutting through the trees and following a mountain highway up to an elevation that is fit for a full-size ski resort, literally. For a large part of this highway, you’re traveling directly alongside a small river of snow runoff. Every 60 seconds, you’ll get a new smell that reminds you of your childhood camping trips. Wildflowers, evergreen trees, fresh water, and motorcycle fumes. The mountains around you are just tall enough to block direct sunlight for half of the trip, but still light up the surrounding area filled with trees and rock cliffs, creating the feeling that Mother Nature is personally coddling you and giving you safe passage she has carved through a large, tall, and otherwise daunting stretch of nature.
After some hours of hot lapping the island, we made our way back to the ferry in time for the sunset. I kicked back my feet over my windscreen and reclined on my bike and let the cold air rush at me as the ferry parted the sea. It was spectacular and beautiful.
A flawless trip. So flawless, in fact, that I forgot to make my car payment. That’s how much fun I was having. The next day, I returned home. Wind beaten with a ruined credit score and a smile that could tell a few stories. My soul was fulfilled… until the next ride.
