Memorial Day 1970

By Frank “kiki” Baltazar

Forty years ago we took a motorcycle trip to Northern California. There was Gibby, his wife Gloria, Gibby’s brother, John and his wife, I don’t remember her name, there was also Guzman and his girlfriend, Mary Lou, and Connie and I.

A week before we were leaving my late brother-in-law Willie said he wanted to go too, one problem, Willie didn’t have a motorcycle, Gibby said to Willie:

"Willie there’s a 305 Honda in my backyard get it running and you can go with us”

Willie goes into Gibby backyard and finds the Honda in the chicken coop full of chicken poop. The Honda had been sitting for about a year, but with a bit of work/new parts Willie got it running, clean it and he was ready to go.

Memorial weekend comes, its Saturday morning, 7:00 AM, we were meeting at my place, Gibby, John and Guzman and wives/girlfriends ride up, then Willie and Annie , when they ride up I ask Willie:

“Willie, where is the Honda?”

“We are sitting on it, don’t you see it?”

“No”

Willie was a big boy, so with him and Annie on the small bike, well, you couldn’t see the bike, the handlebar’s were embedded in Willie stomach and in back of Annie you could barely see the tail light.

After having coffee we take the I-5 to the San Fernando Valley, as we reach the Valley Willie gets a flat tire, we pull into a gas station and get it fix, we get back on the I-5, now we are on the Ridge Route/Grapevine and Willie gets another flat tire, the same tire, rear. No gas stations for miles, what to do. We tried flagging down anybody driving a pickup, none would stop, finally an old ‘58 Chevy station wagon stopped, all the windows but the windshield were broken, and that one had a big crack on it, an old man and woman got out to help, but they could barely walk, they were drunk! At 10:00 AM! we didn’t have much choice, we put the Honda in the back of the wagon with Willie, Annie gets in the back seat. As we’re going down the Grapevine I could see Willie drinking the old couple’s beer, we got to a gas station, gave the old couple a few bucks and got the tire fix one more time.

We now get Highway 99, somewhere between Bakersfield and Fresno, damn if Willie didn’t get another flat, same tire. This part of Highway 99 is a freeway where the semis are going 80-85 miles per hour. We stopped and told Willie we would wait for him at the off-ramp which was about 75 yards up the freeway, Connie got of our bike and said she would walk with Annie while Willie pushed the bike. Right of the off-ramp was a gas station with a store, after all these flat tires we needed a beer. Willie comes up the ramp hopping mad and Annie and Connie behind him laughing their butts off, I looked at Willie’s bike and I could see that the handlebar on the right side is broken, the broken piece is just hanging on the brake cable, I ask Connie what happened.

“Annie and I were walking behind Willie and every time a semi passed by, the bike and Willie’s fat ass would wobble, Willie’s ass would go back and forth, we were laughing so hard he got mad, he stopped and turned around to tell us to shut up when a semi passed by and knock the bike of Willie’s hands, the handlebar broke as the bike hit the ground, that’s why he is so mad”

Damn! we had enough flat tires, I told Willie.

“Willie let’s find out why you keep getting flats”

We took the tire of the rim and found a crack inside the tire that was biting on the tube, I told Willie he needed to buy a new tire he puts his arm around my shoulder and said:

“Brother-in-law, I don’t have any money”
Kiki bought the tire.

That out of the way we go to work on the handlebar, I took the broken piece of the handlebar of the hand grip and put the grip on what remain of the handlebar on the right side, now Willie had a long handlebar on the left side and short bar on the right side.

Back on Highway 99 we travel about 50 miles when the Honda started leaking oil, it was leaking so bad that we started using nothing but STP, we pull into a gas station where Willie borrowed some tools to try and fix the leak, he took some parts of the bike but he couldn’t find where the leak was coming from, so he puts the parts back on, but something was wrong.

“Willie, that’s not right”

“Why?"

“Look at the kick start, it’s supposes to be vertical not horizontal”

The kick start was now horizontal facing forward and he was now starting the Honda like a lawn mower.

We get back on 99 and we had Willie ride in front of us, damn! we were all getting full of oil. The guys told me:

“He’s your brother-in-law, you ride behind him and we’ll ride behind you”

We finally got to Tracy, Ca. and visit with Gibby’s cousins, after drinking one or two beers we left and headed to Pittsburgh, Ca. to visit my cousin Ernie Adame. By the time we got to Pittsburgh the charging system on the Honda had gone south, that meant only one thing, Willie and Annie would have to take the bus back home, I told Willie:

“Willie, it looks like you and Annie are going to have to ride the bus back home”

"I don’t have any money for bus tickets”

“Willie, there are some people working in the fields down the road, you can work two-three days and make enough money to pay for the tickets.

“Do I have to do that?”

He didn’t, us guys put some money together for the tickets. Ernie then drove Willie and Annie to Stockton, Ca. to catch the Grayhound Bus.

We rode back home minus Willie and Annie.

About a week after been home I seen Willie.

“Willie, how was your bus ride?”

“Okay, but for the bus driver”

"What was wrong with the bus driver?' I asked Willie

“He wouldn't stop for a cold one, I ask him if I could drive and he pointed to a sign that read ‘do not talk to the driver when the bus is in motion’ and told me to go sit in the back”