The Dismount

I'm up early, the advantage of the motel, head south and east out of Farmington, this is in New Mexico, looking for some breakfast, I drive through Bloomfield, I'm feeling a bit down because the plan is now to head south on the interstate and in Albuquerque meet up with I-40 and head east, the adventure is about over, interstate all the way. Bloomfield doesn't look too attractive and then, right on the southern limits I see a nice old café across the road, I make a u-turn, drive in and park. Now poor Leslie is suffering a little from all the rain and damp and much of the bling is starting to rust, in addition to the bling that turned green in San Diego. Well, hopefully I'll go over it with a pad and it'll clean up, she is a wonderful touring bike but all the cruising bling is suffering. Inside the café is bright and full of chatter, a very attractive and perky waitress seats me, we chat a little, she introduces herself as Frances, brings me a coffee while I study the menu.

Outside a really battered pickup parks and three folks get out and walk into the café, an odd looking trio, the guy in front is lean as a beanstalk, tall, behind him comes a woman, very short and very stout and bringing up at the rear is the other guy, short and almost spherical. They sit by the window, looking out at Leslie, when the waitress comes to talk to them, they obviously know each other, she points over to me and says something, presumably, that I'm the biker. The tall thin one comes over and introduces himself, name of Slick, he says, and asks if I'd mind them joining me as he wants to talk about the Goldwing. I tell him I'm delighted and they come over, he sits next to me and the other two sit opposite, the round fellow is called BJ, stands for Billie Joe, and the woman is called Rubee, two es.

We sit and chat about the bike, about my trip, as always they are far too impressed, I ask Slick if he rides and he says that he does, every one else laughs, "Let me tell you the story", he says. Frances comes round and we order, "Phil, make sure he tells you about his last ride", she says, laughing.

"Well", Slick says, "I used to work over at the gas station, pumping gas, fixing up cars, in my spare time I had this dirt bike and we all used to go out riding in the mountains". "About five years ago it must have been, it was a Saturday, I'd been out dirt riding, taken a pretty heavy spill, face all messed up, mixture of sweat and mud and blood, tore one of the shoulder pads off my jacket, it was the weekend of the county fair and the streets were full of people, lots of kids on horses, that kind of thing." "I'm heading home down the high street and I see this huge Harley coming the other way, I give him the low five, watch all that chrome ride by."

BJ interrupts him, "Don't you believe this, this version is for Lil, that's Slick's today girl, what really happened was that he saw this girl friend of his, from high school, and he is giving her the glad eye and waving, that's what caused all the trouble."

"Yea, well", says Slick, "Whatever, I look ahead and this idiot has driven out of a side road, right in front of me. I stomp on the brake, big mistake as when I slide forward in the seat I push on the grip and the bike heads off hard to the right, 'Cause I'm only holding on with my right hand as I'm still out there waving to the Harley."

"Girlfriend", mutters BJ.

"Well, I make a grab for the left grip, miss and in a moment am off, over the handlebars as the bike crashes into the dirt on the right side of the road, flying through the air." He pauses for a mouthful of coffee.

BJ says, "Clean dismount", everyone laughs.

Rubee interrupts, "See, the year before, Slick was riding his mare down the same high street, sees this old girl friend, another one, always the lady's man he is, and he decides to show off, and vault off, like in the movies, he kicks his feet out of the stirrups, the mare is ambling along, and he leaps off the mare. Sad to say the spur on his left boot catches the stirrup and he ends up hanging upside down across the saddle, the mare keeps on walking, Slick bangs his head on the ground at every stride, we are all laughing so much that no one can get a grip on the horse. Now that was a bad dismount."

Frances brings us our food, refills our coffee, tells Slick to let me out, pushes him over and sits me back down, draws up a chair and starts drinking my coffee and eating my hash browns. "You don't take any sugar, do you, tastes pretty good", she says.

Slick is off again, "I reckon I must of come down on my head and slid onto my back, I feel myself sliding feet first and stumble to my feet just in time to crash face first into the side of the car that has by now stopped. Out cold! Well someone calls emergency and by the time my eyes are open there is an ambulance, the fire truck, police and a forest ranger. They roll me into the ambulance, drive me to the hospital, X-ray me, keep me overnight, by morning I'm fine except for a hell of a headache and a very stiff neck. "

"And that is about it, the bike isn't even bent up".

"Well, no more than before, he rides like he is a stunt man in the movies", says Rubee, "Miracle he hasn't killed himself before this."

"It is a couple of months later", continues Slick, "I'm up on the porch cleaning the bike, this shiny town car from Albuquerque pulls up my driveway, guess he's lost, but no, this fellow in a suit gets out, walks up until he is about twenty feet from me and hollers out,

“Could you tell me where Adam Saunders lives'".

"That's me, I tell him, "What do you want?"

"'Need to talk to you', he says, 'Mind if I come up?'"

"Sure", I tell him, "Let me get you a coke".

"He sits down, drinks from the can, then says, 'I represent the insurance company of the driver of the car you were involved with several months ago'".

"I say nothing, all I think is that they can sue me for everything and all they'll get is this old house trailer".

"He goes on, 'We'd prefer not to take this before a judge and I've been sent down to ask if you are prepared to settle out of court'".

"What the hell is he talking about?"

"'If you would sign a release then we would be prepared to make you a very generous offer', he says."

"I can't say anything , as if my tongue was tied in a knot, is this guy going to pay me for crashing into that dude's car at the county fair?

"'I tell you what', he says, 'Just to save ourselves all the hassle, how much would you want to just forget the whole thing?'"

"If I say anything I just grunt'", says Slick, "All I can think is,
what the hell is going on?"

"The guy then says, 'I'm authorized to offer you three hundred thousand dollars if you will sign a full release'".

"Three hundred thousand dollars! I can't understand what is going on, I just stare at him, wiping my hands on the oily rag I was cleaning the bike with just a few minutes ago."

"He speaks up again, 'Honestly, the very most we can pay you out of court is four hundred thousand'.

He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a clip board with a stack of papers on it."

"'Listen', he says, and starts reading, it is all about release, I don't understand a single word, he goes on for five minutes, then looks at me, he is really angry, I still haven't said anything, I can't think of anything to say."

" Just ten minutes ago I was cleaning my bike, getting ready to go down to the gas station to pump gas and now this guy seems to be telling me he'll give me four hundred thousand dollars for an accident I caused and no one was hurt."

“Four hundred thousand dollars! I'm trying to work out how much money that is."

"We both sit silently for a few minutes, I'm starting to sort of wake up, before I can say anything he stands up, walks over to me, drops the clipboard on my lap, thrusts a pen at me and says, 'Sign here and we'll settle for four hundred and fifty thousand, last chance, right now, or else we'll meet you in court.'"

"I feel kind of drunk, like one of those fellows on the television who has been hypnotized, what the hell, 'OK', I say."

"He grabs the clipboard back, writes all over the top sheet, then hands it to me and starts explaining what it all means, basically if I sign they will pay me four hundred and fifty thousand dollars and I'll not take them to court or charge them for any damage or lost wages, or medical expenses, psychological injury, he goes on and on and on, now, 'sign here, and here and here'".

"I sign there and there and there, he tears off the copy and gives it to me, shakes my hand, gets back in the car, drives away."

Frances has finished eating my hash browns and has started on the toast, "I was working that day and Slick came in, I thought he had seen a ghost, he was that shaken up." "He told us this story; we thought he had finally gone mad."

Slick starts again, "A few weeks later another Albuquerque car drives up, a different guy gets out, we drive down here for a coffee, he tells me that actually they won't pay me four hundred and fifty thousand dollars, which doesn't surprise me at all."

"But no, it wasn't a scam, what I signed and what they have done is to give me that amount of shares in the insurance company, non-voting shares, he called them, and I will get paid the dividend on these shares, for the rest of my life, they are my shares and he wants me to fill in a form as to who will be the beneficiary when I die and to open a bank account so they can pay the dividends in."

Rubee starts to laugh again, "And we ain't done a lick of work since then, not Slick, not BJ, not me. Just enjoy life, that's what we've done. Now Frances, she just has to work, loves working in the café, making people happy, that's what she likes to do."

A family comes into the café; Frances gets up to serve them, Slick asks where I'm off to, tells me not to go south, there is a great bike ride east and then south, he shows me on the map, I get up to go, they won't let me pay, we all shake hands, Frances comes over and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Take care, Phil", she says, "Don't forget us.". I think we are both near to crying. I suit up, mount up on Leslie and drive north and east.

Alone in the mountains, in the pines, high on the ridges looking over the world, in the valleys alongside the cold white water, riding, thinking, remembering.


Phil Edmonds
Enroute across the USA