Well guys, despite only closing our eyes for a few hours, getting up was easy. The sun was burning my face and the floor was as hard as a pregnant woman's belly button. (have you ever felt one of those?)
I stood up slowly, as I straightened out, my back cracked and even my hip loudly put itself back together. The wind was blowing and I could see clouds of dirt and dust coming off of me as I stood up. I stretched as I scratched my left ass cheek. Kelsey was already up with fire in her eyes. She was not in the mood for any of my smart ass comments about how she looked like. I cleverly kept them to myself. I had a bike to argue with anyways. Better leave the blonde alone, I pondered. I didn't want them tag teaming me.
As I backed out the bike from the bushes, I could hear some ugly noises coming from the chain. I checked the tension with the bike on the side stand, and it seemed ok. I fired it up and let it idle for a minute and then got our gear together. We both got on and I leaned over and felt the chain tension with our weight on it. MAN WAS IT TIGHT! This wasn't good. I didn't even bring any tools with me to adjust anything. Before the trip started, I had boldly exclaimed the the Monster was faultless and would slap even the Pyramids in the face with the mighty glove of reliability.
So now I had a bike with no lights, was grinding its chain and sprockets slowly, I had only a few Euros left to my name, and Kelsey was in no mood for anymore shenanigans.
I did however have a full tank of gas, 15 Euros and was still 350 miles to the Danish border. Doing the math I realized that I wouldn't have enough money to make it. I had plenty of Danish Kroner, but Euros were in critically short supply. Well, I would worry about that later, I had plenty of problems to rack my brain on right now, this one would have to wait.
After we suited up, and the bike was warm, we hopped on and headed back onto the Autobahn. Heavy traffic reared it's ugly head, and I spent at least an hour splitting lanes in stopped traffic. Apparently it's legal there as every motorcycle was doing it, and I sure as hell didn't want to be left out of the party. When the tank was nearly empty, I pulled off to the nearest station and put in the last 15 Euros. That gave me about 10 liters which is about 2.6 gallons or so.
Back on the Autobahn we went. I was getting frustrated. I expected the Autobahns to be 10 lanes of NEED FOR SPEED 5. With Porsches and Ferraris racing each other at speeds that would embarrass helicopters. Instead here we were chugging along at speeds that are legal in a school zone. Thankfully though, Traffic began to subside and again we were cruising at 100mph.
Inevitably, the time came to face the problem I had ignoring for hours. We were still 90 miles from the Danish border and we had no more fuel, or Euros. I pulled off into the next gas station. I went to the pump, and said told myself that I'd figure something out, I would simply pump the gas and it would all take care of itself. While Kelsey went to the bathroom, I pondered my options. When she came back, she put on her helmet and hopped on. So I just started up the bike and started riding. I didn't get out of the gas station when the bike cut out.
T H E B I K E C U T O U T ! ! ! ! here I was, driving off with gas, and the bike simply turned off. Did the Germans have some sort of Romulan EMP device that disables vehicles that don't pay?! My heart raced and I looked wide eyed at Kelsey. I checked the fuses, and noticed the fuel pump fuse was blown. Kelsey was starting to make herself comfortable when I yelled for a new fuse. As she slowly dug in the bag, I had visions of Visigoths running out of the gas station covered in fur and armed with Mace's and double sided axes. Sweat was beading on my forehead as Kelsey gave me the new fuse. I smashed it in there, dropped the tank back down and fired it up. I dropped the clutch and wheelied out of the parking lot and full throttled it back onto the on-ramp. With the engine bouncing off the rev-limiter I clicked in 4th gear. Man was I scared!
10 miles down the road, lights started flashing behind me. Since I don't have mirrors on the bike, I turned to Kelsey and yelled:
"Are there cops behind us?!!"
"yup"
"make the beast with two backs! I can't out run them with your fat ass on the back!"
"thats your problem buddy"
So I pulled over.
Two guys got out of the car. They were tall, erect, and very stiff. They said something in German to which I said:
"I'm sorry, I don't speak German, only English"
"Where is your license plate?"
For a split second I thought about yelling "I KNOW NOZZING!!!
Instead, I smartly replied:
"Ummm, in her backpack" I said
"let me see it"
So I gave them my FL drivers license and the license plate, which incredibly enough was expired for the past two years and was for the wrong bike. (I stupidly brought the wrong one.) Luckily they had no idea about expiration stickers or what they were really looking at. So they told me that I needed to stop at the next gas station and put on the plate and put it on. And that I needed to switch on my lights.
Disaster averted!
Some pictures from the scene, of me trying to put in a fuse to turn on the lights. It blew right away:
Then we saw it! a sign that said DANMARK!!!! (yes, just like that, with the exclamation points and everything, at least thats how I remember it)
They had a roadblock where they were stopping incoming traffic and checking vehicles. Danish cops are anal about the rules and here I was, showing up with no lights and with no license plate. I was in deep trouble.
The viking horde was checking vehicles and mine was not clearly legal to drive on the roads. I knew we would soon be forced to row ships to pillage and plunder. Inexplicably though, the giant Norseman just waved us on! I couldn't believe it! He didn't notice my lack of headlights, and since he was in front, he didn't notice my lack of plates either! he waved us on, and I took off. Better to have him annoyed with me accelerating hard than noticing my lack of plates.
Once they were out of sight, we were now free! We stopped at a gas station to eat. We had not eaten since Burger King two days earlier in Berlin. I really can't describe how delicious it was. I can only come up with this formula:
Best sex you've ever had + Best meal ever + The birth of your first born child + Your first hand job = My sandwich.
Fairly soon afterwards, Kelsey noticed her legs no longer functioned. I told her to drag herself across the ground and I would take a picture:
Here I am, conquering this broad:
We soon made it to my uncle's house in South Jylland. Not quite to my mom's house, but that would have to wait till tomorrow. They heard the stories of our hardships and went out to get supplies. Kelsey asked for Beer and Diet coke, so my uncle bought some for her:
Then we both could get a shower. Look what my belly button made in three days of traveling!
Kelsey didn't think it was as cool as I did.
Oh my god! a bed! soft sheets! squishy mattress! Pillows? Be still my heart!
And top it off with a trashy novel? Could this stop have gotten any better?
