Kenny, who was also off on Wednesday, asked me if I would like to hit the beach - Cannon Beach, where I first introduced him to the Pacific Ocean when he came to visit me and my family in May 2003. Would I?!?! Not only that, but we would be traveling in style - Ken managed to trump the local Harley Davidson guy who never has bikes available for rent on sunny days and found another private dealer who gladly rented him a Road King for the adventure ahead of us. We picked it up in gorgeous farm country Washington Country Tuesday night, petted a cute German Shepherd puppy on our way back home, and got some rest before our big day.
Wednesday dawned cloudy but promising better weather, and although we pulled out right behind a garbage truck (seriously?!) and it was a bit windy - and I was more than a bit nervous - Kenny and I had a fabulous ride out to the Oregon coast. I was so grateful for the gorgeous view, the sparkling green scenery surrounding us, the clear roads, and the sunshine that filtered through the clouds. We arrived safe and sound and immediately found our favorite pizza place that I ate at with my dad and Megan since I was in elementary school, Pizza á Fetta. They had crab pizza on the menu. We dined on crab and a meat extravaganza half-and-half (and of course had to eat the whole thing, since you can't fit a pizza box in the side-bag of a Harley), then strolled the candy shops and made our way out onto the sand of Cannon Beach. What an awesome day it was! Kites swooped and twirled in the sky, the seagulls taunted us from the tip of Haystack Rock (only they can go there - it's off-limits to the humans), waves lapped at the shore, and the sun was growing ever brighter over the sand. We decided to head back toward Portland at the height of the beautiful day, since the bike had to return to its real owner (sorry, Kenny!) in time, but since getting to and from the beach was part of the experience, we looked forward to leaving almost as much as we anticipated getting there. I just dawdled a bit to take pictures with my not-that-great-but-it-still-works Blackberry. At least it's good for something!
Thanks, sweetie, for making my day off so darn terrific! I still won't let you buy a Harley, but I totally get why you want to. Can we rent another one, pleeeeaase?
2 comments:
I want to ride a motorcycle down the coastal highway so, sooooo badly!!! But if Karl caught wind of me doing so while four months pregnant, he'd kill me (a bit ironic, as my death by motorcycle is what he fears). He says he's fine with someday renting scooters on Santorini (as Europe is the only place Karl would be caught dead riding a scooter), but otherwise there will be no two-wheeled shenanigans while I'm his wife. He sounds like a big, fat, controlling jerk, doesn't he? ;) but when you remember that he's the son of an orthopedic surgeon who calls motorcycles "donor mobiles," you have to admit he's got a point.
Well, maybe not a jerk - I think he wants to bring roses and put them on the table - not the headstone.
From a dad who has wanted a motorcycle since he was about 8.
Katie - now you know why Kenny longs so for one.
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