Trader Articles
The Wedding
Eleven years ago today Gary
and I said our “I do’s” in front
of a huge Harley Davidson Bar & Shield at
the newly opened Reno-Carson
Harley Davidson store in Carson City, Nevada.
The bride wore black leather, motorcycle
boots and a white veil. The
groom wore black leather and boots.
The minister was the wife of the mechanic
at
the store.
We were the first couple to
ever be married at their “chapel”.
It
was perfect.
When we decided to get
married, we figured Street Vibrations was as
good a date as any.
All our friends were riding up for the
event
and we wouldn’t have to send out any
invitations.
The whole town was a party so we wouldn’t
have foot the bill for that either.
The
wedding cost $100.
We had special shirts
made with the “Riverwood Inn” on the front and
“Just Married” on the back with
the date, 2000.
We bought a little
video camera to record the event, but the gal
who was assigned to film us had
to go to the bathroom so she left the ceremony
with the camera slung over her
shoulder……….still on.
After we got home
we eagerly played the film, and though we are in
part of it, the rest is mostly
her boots walking through the store, her boots
standing in line for the
bathroom and you can guess the rest.
Gary’s brother Dan and his wife Tina,
came up for the wedding, so they
drove their car behind us as we roared out of
the parking lot and followed us
up the mountain to Virginia City, my veil
blowing in the wind.
Hilarious!
Our Honeymoon consisted of
riding out the back way from Reno
with our destination being somewhere we hadn’t
been before.
We ended up in Chester.
We always look for the funkiest bar
because
that’s where you can find out the best
information about the area, where to eat
and sleep, the best roads, etc.
We
parked the bike and walked into the dark tavern. At the
end of the bar was another
couple. We
had noticed a rat bike parked
out front and figured it belonged to them.
We exchanged smiles.
They told us
they had just come back from Street Vibrations,
and while they were there they
met some old friends that took them to a wedding
at the Harley store.
Their friends were Jerry and Paula. Did we
know them?
Know them!
They were two of our best friends!
As a matter of fact, Jerry had been hit
by a bee on his forehead on the
ride up and could barely see us get married!
Yep, that was them, they said, Jerry’s
always getting stung or hit by
something.
Then we realized that they
had been at OUR wedding!
Everyone in the
bar wanted to buy us drinks, but we still had to
ride somewhere and find a room
so we asked about a place to stay around there.
It ended up that the couple worked for an
inn up the road so they called
the owner and asked him if we could get a room.
It was called The Black Forest Inn and it
was closed because it was
Monday, but at least we could get a room.
They hopped on their rat and we followed
them up the road, coughing
through their exhaust.
Rat bikes are
notorious for excessive smoke and various parts
and screws falling off so we
don’t usually like to ride behind them, but
about ten miles later we were at
the Black Forest.
It was a German
restaurant and bar as well as an inn.
Indeed, the bar was closed, but the owner
made us drinks anyway, and
then brought out a huge tray of delicious
cheeses and such and flipped on
Monday night football for us too.
We
were the only people there.
Behind the inn was a vast meadow
surrounded
by pines and long ponds in which he raised
trout. He
told us that if we picked one out, he
would catch it and cook it for us, but we could
tell that he really loved his
trout. So,
we declined and instead he
then proceeded to make us this huge German
dinner. By
this time we were absolutely stuffed but
we tried to eat as much as we can, especially
since he stood behind the bar
with his hands on his hips, beaming at us with
each bite.
That night I had the weirdest dreams……
The next morning, before he
could stuff us some more, we bid
farewell and took off on some back road with the
intention of heading over to
Lassen. As
we weaved down the endless
road through the tall pines the temperature
dropped to ice.
I’m
not
good with directions.
I’ve never
been able to tell my left from my right, so with
me on the back as navigator,
we’ve often ended up entirely in the wrong
place. I
began to get the feeling this was going to
happen here.
On a bike, all the scents
are sharp and distinct.
No fun to ride
by a dead deer, whew!, but mowed fields,
roadside sweet peas, desert sage and
pines. But
by this time my nose was
frozen but then,
Hallelujah!
I
smelled wood smoke and bacon and then there was
a small café set back in the
woods, warm and inviting.
We devoured
omlats, fresh biscuits and sipped screw top
champagne.
Finally full and happy, we continued on
towards Lassen.
The weather warmed and
as we ascended into the park we shed our leather
and pulled off our helmets. Gary
wanted to see the Bumpass Mud Pots so we
pulled over into the parking lot.
I had
on motorcycle boots that weren’t made for
walking, but we began the decent
anyway, following a bunch of little Boy Scouts
who leaped and frolicked
ahead. It
was a long way down and by the
time we got there I was limping and gasping for
air. The
Bumpass Mud Pots were exactly that, mud pots.
Seen one, seen them all……….The climb back
up was torturous and as the
kids flew past me up the hill, I was tempted to
grab one of their little packs off
their little backs and steal their water.
They must have sensed this because they
gave us a wide berth, or maybe
it was just that we were two bikers wearing
black. Back
at the lot I looked for a fountain or a
bathroom, anything with water, but nothing was
around. We
got back on the bike and took off down the
road. A
meadow appeared to our left, or
was it our right?
Geez!
But the meadow had a stream flowing down
the
middle so we jumped off and ran through the
grass, or
rather, Gary ran and I limped, dropping to
our bellies to drink our fill.
Much
later down the road we found a burger joint with
beer…sheer Heaven!
We ended up that night in Weaverville in
a
room above the New York Saloon.
WE put
on our Just Married shirts and again got free
drinks and met great people.
On our first anniversary, I
changed the date on the back of
our shirts with white-out to 2001 and we
returned to Street Vibrations to
celebrate.
But that was just after 9/11
and the mood of the country had changed.
As we rode over Highway 20, every house,
every barn, every overpass had
American flags flying.
It was a
beautiful and bittersweet ride.
This
anniversary, we’re going over to the Coast.
We booked a room at Little River Inn and
we’re taking the Jeep so Willie
and Rusty can come.
We went back to
Street Vibes a few more times, but that’s a long
haul for an old bat like
me. A
couple of weeks ago we rode up to
Eureka and I could feel my face flapping in the
wind.
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loreen@riverwoodinn.info ALL RIGHTS
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