Raven's Roads
Living an interesting life: the travels and musings
of motorcycling author Linda R. Moore

Jan 16, 2003

A Fond Farewell

Filed in Blog

A Fond Farewell

On the 16th of January 2003, Don and I went out on a motorcycle ride with Michael’s ashes safely tucked into my backpack.

It was one of those beautiful California winter days when the sun is shining, there’s some warmth in the air, and yet there’s a kind of paleness to everything.

We headed down to Half Moon Bay the quick way, then meandered up Highway 1 making occasional trips towards the coast. One such sidewind took us to the Ritz-Carlton, a seriously beautiful and plush hotel which even had a “gatekeeper” in full hotel uniform. You can tell that a place is classy when the welcoming committee is still friendly and courteous when you show up as poor as two church mice on a battered old motorcycle ;-)

We admired the building, but everything was a touch too manicured and we went a little further along.

We next stopped near San Gregorio beach for a breather and a view of the rather odd structures that had been erected on the beach: as if a survivalist group had gotten carried away making teepees and stuff from the driftwood.

Then we finally stopped at Pomponio Beach, a lovely little white-sand cove with cliffs rising up either side. I left Don in the lot and went up the cliff to get some privacy, and found myself a little place there to think about Michael and the good times. Then I just stood up and let the ashes fly off towards the ocean. It was a lovely, peaceful moment and I feel honored to have had the opportunity.

After that, a walk on the shiny beach with Don, contemplating the nature of the universe.

The rest of the trip… we stopped briefly in Davenport as I was getting foot cramps; then at Santa Cruz for postcards and dinner. Afterwards, we got to do a “random act of kindness”–we were approached by a rather straightforwards and nice homeless guy who might have been a biker; at the very least, he referred to us as brother/sister and was impressed by the bike. Anyway, he simply said could we give him enough change for a hamburger, as he was hungry; Don gave him a pocketful of change, and we all departed kind of mellow and happy with the way things were.

On the way back, with some delight I watched the mileometer on my bike flip over to 50,000 miles. I think the bike was in the twenty-thousands when we got it, and it just somehow seemed really apt.

So Michael’s last ride was a great one, and I think he would have enjoyed it.