Saturday, May 3, 2008

Day Two.....


The rain don't fall in this shit town
The windows on the shops need cleaning

Blue heelers, they are everywhere

The buildings are all leaning
And there's a diro on the median strip
But he don't move a muscle
The dust, the dust is everywhere
It's in my eyes and in my hair

Weddings, Parties, Anything
"By Tomorrow"


So, due to blowing past Lincoln City yesterday, I actually got ahead of my schedule. Which, as it turns out, is a good thing because a friend of mine in L.A. (the first scheduled non-hotel checkpoint on the trip) is taking off Tuesday the 6th......so I may have a chance to make up a little more ground tomorrow.

Was only slated to be in Brookings, Oregon tonight. Instead, I went on to a place called Eureka, California. Not bad.....270 miles....a little bit above my target average of 200 miles a day, which is good.

THEN I got to Eureka......

Wow....what a quaint city centre!! Bail bondsman shop, followed by dollar store, followed by liquor store, followed by pawn shop, followed by bail bondsman store, followed by dollar store followed by...........

So, I git to the motel advertised in the booklet. Now, one really should know better, in that how one should base one's expectations about a place of lodging from the source by which one learned of said lodgings.

English?

You really hafta beware of these things -










So I get to the place around 7:30pm, and I walk into the office which is literally saturated by the smell of curry (not a bad scent, mind you), and the guy gives me the key to the room and I drop my maximum budget per night of fiddy buxx for it.

OK.....go to one of the multitude of liquor stores and grab a corkscrew (which I THOUGHT I had forgotten to bring.....turns out it was just buried in the bottom of my knapsack) and get back to open a bottle of Zinfandel and get to work on the blog post for the day.

Well, first off.....uhhhh......the corkscrew I bought didn't quite work out as expected -









THAT should have been an omen on how my motel stay at The Royal Inn Motel in Eureka was gonna go....

And then, through some clever usage of some auto-repair tools that I had brought with me (EXCEPT a Phillips screwdriver......this would come into play later in this post), I did manage to remove the cork.

Right.......so, surf the 'Net forra while, have a couple glasses of Zin, and THEN I set back down to proceed on the blog post.

But then I hear (and wiith paper-machete walls and doors, it literally sounded like they were running around right next to me) young children running around, screaming, having the time of their lives, enjoying childhood.

Which was great.....

.....except that it was, like, 11:30pm!

I was slllooooowwwwly getting the idea that the Royal Inn Motel may be, like, a sort of actual residence for some folks (which I am all for)......but the lack of general common courtesy of said tenants was beginning to grate upon my nerves.

They finally go away around 12:15am.....niiiiccce.

So, I go back to the EEE pc, start trying to think of something witty and clever to write, when the aforementioned
paper-machete walls become the paper-machete ceiling (as I am on the first floor), and I'm treated to the soothing sounds of a couple in the room directly above mine engaged in the throes of passion.

At about 2:45am, all was actually QUIET!!! And I go and die and then, I'm rudely interrupted by a fone call at, like, 9:45am -

"You check out time is 11AM.....11AM.....11AM!!!!"

"No shit, Sherlock!!!" I retorted and hung up.

Then, 10:45am, after I git outta the shower AND already have all my shit packed up, when the fone rings again -

"You go now!! It almost eleven AM! TIme check out now!!"

"I still have fifteen minutes, you dick!!!!!!!!" and hung up again on his ass.

Stormed to the office, tossed the key at the guy and explained that that is some pretty rude shit to phone me twice and harangue me to git the hell outta the room considering that I couldn't actually fall asleep until 2:30, given the paper-machete walls, sound-amplifying vents, and lovely boarders in his goddamm rat-bag place! And I walked out of the office.

I mean, it was thee exact opposite from my stay in Florence, Oregon at The Villa West, where everything was damm near perfect!!


So I walk outta the office in the morning, and hop on the Helix and start it up, and throttle it a bit.....

...*putt* *putt*....*ploop*.....*hack*....*gasp*.....*wheeze*.

Aw fuck....I DID NOT need this right now!!

Right, so.....I undo the cargo web and unfasten the knapsack that is strapped to the back seat (a lot easier said than done) and remove the seat to have access to the engine.

It was one of those moments -

WAS my adventure going to end HERE?? In this dump of a town at thee nastiest motel I've been to in a long time? Where IS the nearest Honda motorcycle shop?? Christ......time to call Triple A......

Then I look carefully.....









Ahhhh.......riiiiggghhht.......the tube that rams air into the carburetor was disconnected! Probably from all the vibration of pushing a tiny-ass skooter engine at an average of 60-plus M.P.H. for extended distances.....ahhhhh.......gotcha.....I see now.....

(Strange because on several older cars that I have seen belonging to friends who are motorheads, the plastic tube that rams air into the carb is often intentionally removed out of the engine compartment, with zero ill effects!! Apparently, on a skooter, it's critical.)

One teeensy little problem.....

I did NOT bring a Phillips head screwdriver wiff me.

Heart sinks.....

It was at THIS point that I figured that an abundance of dollar stores may not be such a bad thing after all, and was gonna go walk to one to grab the required tool for this repair.

THEN, I spot the maintenance guy. Nice enuff looking fellow, I surmise. See him walking to and fro, performing maintenance! BUT.....I gotta snag him when he's nowhere near the front office, especially when I had told the owner/manager/whatever gentleman at the front desk that I thought that he was just a touch out of line earlier......

Success!! Guy kindly bums me his Phillips screwdriver....

Now, this is thee part where you say to yourself - "God, I HOPE that this is it! Otherwise, I'm fucked!"

Pop it onto the neck of the carburetor......

......screw down on the clamp on the plastic air tube.......

.....start the Helix up......

.....crank the throttle......

.......bye bye!!!!!!!!

Ain't looking back......




More tomorrow....

-E-


Christ, I despise this dirty town
I hate your dirty streets
I despise your rank hotels
And everyone I meet
(ibid.)

1 comment:

HRD said...

1. Earplugs, dude, earplugs.

2. Beer does not require a corkscrew.

3. One must always 'curry' favour with the front desk folks.