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Part 4: Down 101
After the store, the ride returned south down the coast where tides and a slight tail wind followed them back to Santa Cruz and a meeting with Paul at Rock Lobster.
I’ve come to the conclusion that they simply and willingly got lost, really lost. Not lost as in without a map or unable to find their way. But lost in their thoughts. They forgot what they were doing and where they were going, they forgot about life and problems and competition and want and need. They just rode for hours and watched as northern California went buy. In a blur, through the mist, among the trees and the hills, north for a bit, south for a bit, up a hill and down a hill, over a hill, down the coast.
We spend so much time and energy on these rides not getting lost that we sometimes forget that for the last five, ten, fifteen years that’s one of the very reasons we all ride. To get lost. Sometimes we ride to check-out, from anxiety, stress, responsibility, from all of it.
Whether it’s exactly true or not, what strikes me about - The Missing Three Hours Followed By The General Store And A Ride Down HWY-101 – is that maybe Aaron, Hahn, Greg, Ryan, and Cole collectively checked-out. In the middle of the near mythologized (for it’s hippies, surfing, marijuana, redwoods and fog) Santa Cruz mountains, among all it’s amazing topography and geography, the Continental Riders simply went for a ride.
Or they were abducted by an Alien in a Julie Furtado suit? Suppose we’ll never really know.
“Greg and I got a little impatient and we thought we knew where we were going. We were wrong. We ended up on the Pacific Coast Hwy and running at a pretty good clip. We pulled over and waited for around 20 minutes. Just staring off out into the ocean and the cool salty breeze.” – Cole Maness
“We were steaming down the 101 late for our meeting with Rock Lobster when Brian leans out and shouts at us ‘Guys, Barry Wicks does this section in forty minutes.’ I just stared at him.” – Hahn Rossman
“In three days my drive-train rusted. Three days.” – Ryan Thomson
“We met a luthier who’s shop was next to Paul’s. He was very friendly and had some great stories about Cambodian Striped Teak and other rare woods none of us had heard of. Then he mentioned that his guitars sell for $26,000.00 Just like that, matter of fact.” – Cole Maness
“Paul told Cole that he had a ‘mile-a-minute-mustache.’” – Greg Johnson