Southern Exposure

Friday, November 14

Only five days into our trip, and I already feel the demanding effects of riding the bike for hours on end. Not only do I constantly feel the nagging pain in my neck, back and sit bones (though I count on the muscles to adapt soon due to daily “training”), we are always at the mercy of environmental and road conditions which could change at any minute, exposing us to some extreme unexpected situations.

Today started out nicely as we rode through mountainous parts of sunny Southern California on the way to a friend’s house in Fontana, 50 miles East of LA. The beginning of the ride down 101 was quite the change from the beginning of the trip. The thermometer on Matt’s bike showed 91 degrees. We cut the corner on 101 by taking Hwy 154. We had heard there were fires in Santa Barbara, and as we rode we passed probably 50 fire tracks going the opposite direction. We rejoined 101, then took Hwy 126 to I-5 to I-210 to try to avoid the Friday evening LA rush hour traffic.

We were traveling on I-210 East, and, as in previous days, were breaking the first rule of motorcycle travel by riding in the dark. We weren’t concerned as we were on a well lit, big interstate. At about 7 pm and with only 10 miles left to go, we passed a highway sign that warned about the “gusty winds ahead.” The minute I read the sign, out of nowhere a severe gust picked up my bike and threw me into the next lane of traffic missing by a foot colliding with a passing car. Blood rushed into my head and my whole body got covered in adrenaline sweat as I tried to get back into my lane gripping to the bike for dear life. Struggling to fight the wind and stay in my lane, I prayed to my deceased mother for help. Tears were rolling down my face, and as I weeped loudly, it was Matt’s words of encouragement via the intercom that kept me from giving into the absolute panic. It seemed almost impossible to be able to cross the four lines of traffic to get off this damned road without being blown into the passing cars. We kept waiting for the right moment, and finally on Matt’s command safely merged to the exit and got off the freeway. After a short windy ride through the streets we were finally at the destination.

As soon as I got off the bike and took my helmet off, I started crying again, this time from being happy to be alive, totally shaken up by the this horrifying experience. I hugged Matt tightly not wanting to let go as if seeking assurance that the ordeal was over, and thankful that both of us made it through this hellish ride in one piece.

The next day we found out that 30-50 mph winds with 70mph gusts were responsible for the huge fires in LA that destroyed hundreds of homes.