Let's Ride

Chapter 11

The next day found us riding in a cold rain, it was cold and crappy when we got up in the morning heavy clothes and full leather, up to I-15 past Virgina City and Alder, south on 41 to Dillon, where we stopped for a hot lunch. The sky had looked pretty threatening all morning, but decided to let go while we were eating. Since we kind of on a schedule, we had no choice. On with the rain suits and even with windscreens on our rides, no fun. All the way down I-15 to Idaho Falls, bucking wind spray thrown up by every passing truck, this was the real downside to motorcycle riding. Most die-hard bikers will just grit their teeth and chalk it up to experience, "Yeah, hard core man!" Greg at least had shielding for his legs and feet with the faring on his Road King, but I had nothing, it didn't take long for my boots to soak through. Near the Utah border, the rain slacked off but nothing was drying out, finally our little endurance "run" was over.

We swung by the parts store to let dad know I was back then over to Greg's for coffee and a warm-up, which consisted of a good hot shower together, and some fun in the sack. Greg and I kissed goodbye, then it was back home to fix supper, and to think about tomorrow and back to work. One thing dad saw early on was the money in heavy duty truck parts, over time we built up a sizeable business in truck parts especially engine parts Cummins, Caterpillar, Mack, Peterbuilt Kenworth Autocar, all of them dad had an uncanny ability to know what people needed the most, so as a result, we were always running parts to all the truck stops in the area, I even got as far east as Cokeville Wyoming and Kemmerer. The Flying J at Snowville Utah, Malad City up in Idaho, I've been to them all. Most of the time I worked behind a desk ordering parts taking orders from the shops needing a set of pads for a 1989 Autocar or an alternator for a 1980 Cummins. From time to time Dad would have me run something somewhere, like for example today, they desperately needed a fuel injection pump for a Kenworth T660 engine over at Cokeville Wyoming., so your's truly get's the job. I don't know why, but I've always hated Logan Canyon, US 89 is the highway, twisty turny, I don't even like to take my Harley on it, it also happens to be one of the roads Greg has to plow in the winter, he hates it to for entirely different reasons.

So it's US 89 to Garden City at Bear Lake (witch Greg is always talking about doing, the both of us going bare in Bear Lake). Anyway, picking up Utah route 30 to Sage Junction in Wyoming, then up US 30 to Cokeville. It's around 95 miles but it always seems like a 150. Today it's raining, raining hard. I was traveling on US 89 approaching the Franklin-Basin road when I saw what appeared to be a young girl standing along the left side of the road, now normally I don't pick up strangers, but I quickly turned into the side road along the girl who looked like a drowned rat soaked to the bone. "Do you want a ride, I've got to run up to Cokeville but I'm coming right back this way," I told her. she studied me for a moment then got in; she was shaking like a leaf. I stopped the truck, jumped out and made her lean forward, as I pushed the seat back forward and retrieved a blanket from behind the seat. "Here, wrap this around yourself," I said. I turned back out onto highway 89 and continued on my way. "What's your name, and what are you doing standing in the rain like that?" I turned the heater on full directing the heat towards the floor, as she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself. "M-m-my name is Jessica, Jessica Winters." Suddenly she leaned over and started sobbing. I placed my hand on her back for comfort, "It's all right now Jessica, no one's going to hurt you, my name is Nikki Cormak, I live in Logan, and I'm taking a truck part up to Cokeville Wyoming, then I'm coming right back this way back to Logan, can you tell me what you're doing out here all alone?"

Finally she must have warmed up enough to feel more comfortable, 'M-m-my boyfriend and I were camping in the campground back there, w-w-e had a fight, he tore down the tent, threw everything in the car and just took off, screaming at me that I was on my own, I don't know where he's gone, I got scared and walked to the road back there, where am I?" I looked at her; something told me things weren't right here, "This is US highway 89 you're in northeastern Utah." She shook her head, 'Uh, where is that?" I couldn't believe this, "Where are you from Jessica?" she put her head down and started crying again, "Please Jessica, don't cry, you're safe now, I swear nobody's going to hurt you, I want to help, now where are you from?" "Three Rivers," "Three River's where?" I asked. "Michigan," She replied.