OMD Travelogue | Day 32
Tools spread about, I’m lying on the ground reattaching the sidecar to the bike.
He turns back to the truck, cracks open two beers, hands me one, starts setting up his camp chair. Can’t say I’ve ever sat and watched a lady work on her motorcycle before, he says as he settles in to do just that.
Gray beard, gold-mining history, a sporadic cough that belies years of packing and smoking an antler pipe, Curtis is the real deal. We entertain each other for the morning – him with his quick wit and endless array of old-time stories, me with my wrenching and moto-hack problem solving.
Rufio put back together, tools stored, grease washed off as best as possible, I dine at the Seaview Cafe with an adventurous foursome from Illinois. These two couples met more than 40 years ago and regale me with stories of boating, snowmobiling, family and travel. I officially add Rockford, Illinois to the docket so I can visit them and tour the family-owned Rockford Brewery.
Live bands transform the sleepy town of Hope each weekend. Guides from upriver come to town, Anchorage city folk fill the patio, motorhomes line the streets, locals mix and mingle. While telling Logan, a new city friend, about the OMD adventure I keep getting off track – buy Curtis a beer, wave at the adventurous foursome, ask the brothers from a few tents down if the fish were biting today, exchange hugs and hellos with friends from the river and the softball field.
How long have you been here? Logan asks with equal parts confusion and admiration.
It’s only been three days. Three days longer than I expected. Hope irresistibly enveloped me in friendly adventures and beautiful landscapes. I’m proud to be a part of this community, even if only for the night.
32 days down. Many to come.
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