Editor’s note: The following story is from the book, “The Further Adventures of The Borderland Biker, In Memory of Indian Larry and Doo Wop Music,” by Derrel Whitemeyer.
Larry looked at me then towards Kate, “Pretend for a moment we do agree to take you. Out of curiosity, how were you planning on the three of us traveling four miles in less than two and a half minutes? That’s assuming there’s another motorcycle we can use and that we can get the Raider past the metal door at the same time we’re dealing with our large unfriendly friend? That’s a lot of assuming.”
“…and that’s,” I added, “assuming there are no obstacles on the four mile stretch of road.”
Kate laughed, “Since we’re all assuming, I’m also assuming you’re as anxious to see Ma n’ Pa as I am to visit an alternate reality. In answer to the second part of your question, a few days ago two motorcycle riders arrived right after sunset. I didn’t know they’d arrived until they knocked at the front door of the café.”
“Maybe,” I said jokingly, “they were trying to conserve fuel and coasted the last mile?”
“Kate gave me her ‘you’re not very funny’ look. “Good guess but no cigar. The next morning I found the tire tracks of a bike starting from behind the metal door and ending in front of my barn. They’d left their other bike behind the door. Somehow they were able to ride to this portal and arrive here right after sunset. They said they’d seen the creature hiding in the buildings and that they’d help me put better locks on the hinges, which we did immediately.”
“So what,” I wanted to be Kate’s best student, “happened after they arrived; what did they look like?”
“I’d say one looked like an older version of the actor Sam Jones who’d played Flash Gordon in the movie FLASH GORDON. The other one called Hilts looked like a taller version of the actor Steve McQueen. They were met a few minutes later by a man driving a ’40 Ford sedan; he came by way of the road you two came on. The two riders then asked me if they could leave one of their motorcycles here; they said its tires had been damaged on the ride. They said they couldn’t stay long; they’d come to get something special.
“When we returned to the café we all had a bowl of my stew. They were polite but in a hurry and stayed only long enough after they’d eaten to buy a bag of my special blend of coffee. One of them, the one called Hilts, said it was just for my coffee they’d traveled here. I don’t know if it’s all that special; all I know is that my customers like it and that I’ve been making it for myself long before I bought this café. My stew’s good, if I do say so, but they acted as if they’d discovered the Holy Grail when they found I had one more bag of my coffee. The ingredients to make more of it are stored in the kitchen; I just need to mix them together.”
“Did the driver,” it was Larry’s turn to be a good student, “of the ’40 Ford go with the three of you to the barn; did he ever get out of his car?”
“No; he just sat in the driver’s seat with this big smile on his face waiting for the two to finish their stew. Speaking of big, this guy was huge. His head had to have touched the roof of the car…and…and I know this sounds impossible, but when he smiled at me with his ‘it’s all going to be ok smile’ I could’ve sworn bubbles floated out of his mouth.
“Like the bubbles,” it was my turn to ask a question, “coming out of someone who’s underwater?”
“Exactly…it was like…,” and I could tell Kate didn’t want to believe what she was about to tell us, “…the front seat area of the Ford had been sealed to hold in water like an aquarium. When they left, Hilts and the one that looked like the actor Sam Jones made a point of opening only the back doors getting into the car; I never saw anyone open the front doors.”
“Did the two riders,” I wasn’t taking turns any longer, “say anything else?”
“Not that much, just that they liked the stew and wished they didn’t have to rush off. Oh, and the one called Hilts commented on the dreamcatcher hanging behind the counter and asked if I’d made it. When I told him it was a design my grandmother had taught me and that she’d also taught me the recipe for the coffee blend, he just smiled.
“It was as if the answer to his question answered another question he’d been wondering about for a long time. The one that looked like Sam Jones seemed to be in more of a hurry and said the driver was on a tight schedule and that if they were to get over Sonora Pass they needed to leave now.”
“Did they say,” I was going to ask my question before Larry could ask another, “where they had to be and why they were in such a hurry?”
“They said they had to be in Mariposa before dawn at a chocolate factory, which didn’t make sense. The only chocolate factory in that area is the old 1800s Ghirardelli chocolate factory. It’s in the nearby gold rush town of Hornitos and it’s nothing but a collapsed building similar to the one here; it’s been in ruins for over a hundred years. As to why they were in a hurry; they just said the driver was on the clock and that I’d soon be visited by two friends. Hilts described you two. He said you’d both look like bums and to never trust or turn my back on you…hey, just kidding.”
Kate wasn’t kidding about one thing. Larry and I were anxious to get to the other portal.
The urgency to join the last pieces of Ma n’ Pa’s Borderland together was definitely a top priority. Speaking of curiosity, I was curious to see what kind of motorcycle had been left parked near the barn. Hopefully it would be one that could reach speeds that would cover four miles in less than two and a half minutes. I was pretty sure the Raider with a few of Larry’s magical mechanical tweaks could reach those required speeds.
Kate continued to lead our walk along the path which led us to a large barn. Weathered and right out of a Kansas prairie painting, it was surrounded by dozens of farm trucks dating back to the 1920s. On a dirt road running next to the barn, under an awning was the motorcycle, a black and yellow Suzuki M109 with a solo seat. From what I’d read about its 109 cubic inch engine I had no doubt it would be fast enough. This one however had a flat rear tire and the front tire looked to be on its way to becoming the same.
The bike had been parked on the road next to some old trucks that in turn had been parked next to the barn. Suzuki’s M109 like both the Yamaha Road Warrior and Raider was never designed to be a copy of something else.
“Larry, this M109 is another one of the bikes I was telling you about. Like the Warrior and Raider it was criticized in a couple of cycle magazines for being an ‘almost’ cruiser. One magazine even called its tall overhead cam engine ugly.”
“Hey, so what it’s not a chopper, so what it’s not my style; I can live with ugly if it’ll get us to the other portal before it closes. Amend that to…get us to the portal four miles away in less than two and a half minutes. Right now we need a fast bike, not one that’ll win a beauty contest.”
Neither the Raider nor the M109 were ever, if you read the reviews, designed to be Harley wannabes. In fact Tatsuya Watanabe, the man who designed the Road Warrior, would’ve probably patted the M109’s designer on his head. With its overhead cam, nearly 60 degree V-twin engine, it was not, and may they rest in peace, my Wide Glide or Larry’s radial engine chopper. The question was with Kate aboard the Raider would Larry be able to get to the other portal before it closed?
In prison Larry was known as the man not to have problems with; ironically he was also known as the man to see if you had an engineering problem that needed an answer.
“I’ve no doubt,” said Larry as he looked down on the M109, “that once we patch its tires it’ll be fast enough. However, I’d put the Raider even with all its fencepost pulling torque at only an honest 125 mph top speed with or without Kate as my passenger…what the Raider needs is an edge.”
“What kind of an edge?” I asked. “We can’t add a gear?”
Larry continued, “I’ll need to defeat, in essence disconnect, the Raider’s rev limiter. The Raider’s got the power but the EPA’s put it on a leash; bypassing its rev limiter will remove that leash. Unleashed my guess is it’ll top out near 140 mph. We’ll need to reach close to that speed to make it to the next portal before it closes.”
Cool wasn’t going to cut it and as much as I missed my ‘just ah puttin’ along singin’ a song’ Harley Wide Glide and Larry missed his radial engine chopper we now needed something with speed up the kazoo. Larry was sure the Suzuki M109 with its radical 109ci overhead cam engine would be enough for me. He also felt that by bypassing the rev limiter on the Yamaha Raider he and Kate would be able to get up to the speeds required to reach the other portal. Two and a half minutes would be all the time the passageway between here and Ma n’ Pa’s Borderland would stay open.
“So how much time,” I asked, “do we have to patch the front and back tires on the M109 and override the Raider’s rev limiter?”
“Based on the time between discharges and by the look of the growing cloud formations west of here,” answered Kate, “I’d say we’ve less than two hours.”
During our conversation about fixing the two bikes we’d retraced our steps back down to the steel door.
“I couldn’t help but eavesdrop…,” interrupted a familiar voice from behind the steel door. The voice sounded a lot like my grandmother’s.
“…but you’re going to need my help,” my grandmother’s voice continued. “If you’re going to make it to the next portal before it closes you’ll need to hear my proposal.”
“Let’s hear your proposal,” answered Larry.
“Name’s Shaun and my proposal is that if you take me with you I won’t stop you from making the journey.”
“Impossible,” I interrupted. “I got a glimpse of you; you’re much too large…plus you look like a velociraptor.”
“You’re right,” said the voice that now sounded more like my own than my grandmother’s. “However once I’m exposed to the sunlight on your side of the door I’ll become my normal chameleon size…small enough to fit in your backpack.”
Memories of the giant spider Bartlett shrinking down from the size of a piano to the size of my hand after he’d been exposed to another Borderland’s sunlight came back.
[page break]
Remembering how the giant spider Bartlett once he’d been exposed to the sunlight coming from the other Borderland was quickly reduced to his normal garden spider size made me think how maybe the sunlight on Kate’s side of the door would have the same effect on Shaun. Shaun from the glimpse I got looked like one of the velociraptors out of Steven Spielberg’s movie JURASSIC PARK. This one was wearing a worse-for-wear baseball cap.
Shaun’s voice, still speaking to me in my grandmother’s voice interrupted my thoughts, “Look, let’s cut to the chase. Speaking of cutting, after Kate escaped I had a temper tantrum and cut all the wiring on the bike left on this side. It’s of no use to you now. You’ve one choice…take me with you.”
“No tricks; we’re armed,” said Kate. “The first sign of a double-cross and you’ll look like a ventilated velociraptor.”
“Understood, and as sign of good faith,” replied Shaun, I’ve already cleared the road of debris through the cave to where the portal’s entrance will appear.”
“How long will you remain backpack size once you’re behind the door again?”
I had to ask since I was the one that would be carrying Shaun in my backpack.
“Five minutes.”
“Go ahead and open the steel door.” said Larry as he was already undoing the locks covering the steel hinges. “We’ve no better options.”
Larry and I hurriedly undid the locks on the hinges. When we were about to release the final pins we jumped backwards at the same time we released them. Kate had already positioned herself about twenty feet back with her Colt 45 drawn and pointed at the door. She’d retrieved it from the café and returned before Larry and I had finished undoing the locks. We’d drawn our Glock pistols and were standing beside her almost before the pins hit the ground.
“Aim for the neck just under the head if things get out of hand,” said Larry. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”
The steel door swung outward. Nearly six feet in height, Shaun stood on the other side. Behind him was the chopped off end of a small street. The street, the sidewalk and part of an abandoned archery shop called Predators Archery looked like they’d been cut off by the back of the cave. Shaun then stepped past the steel door into our sunlight.
Blinking, trying to focus, he finally found us and walked forward.
“I could kill all three of you before I died from your bullet wounds but that’s not our deal. As I begin to shrink I will lose first my power to mimic then my ability to speak. I was once just a chameleon and someday under different circumstances I’ll tell you how I got trapped on the other side of this door.”
Shaun’s voice was already losing its ability to mimic my grandmother and I could swear the baseball cap on top of his head was growing larger. Did Alice in her THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS “drink me” adventures experience the same thing Shaun was experiencing?
Larry had put away his gun and had walked up to where Shaun was standing. Shaun was visibly growing smaller. His baseball cap had already slipped from his head.
“We’ll honor our agreement,” said Larry. “We just need to get the two bikes ready to ride and then wait for the lightning discharge to open the portal.”
Shaun nodded he understood then continued to shrink until he was the size and shape of a foot long chameleon.
After that things happened quickly. Larry and I ran to where both the M109 and the Raider were parked. While I got to work fixing the flat tires Larry set to work bypassing the Raider’s rev limiter. Kate in the meantime had gone back to the café. After fixing and putting air into the tires I then checked the M109’s gas tank for gas then started its engine. Larry finished working on the Raider at the same time.
“I didn’t actually remove the rev limiter,” said Larry, “but with some well-placed resisters and capacitors I fooled it into thinking higher rpms were ok.”
Kate had returned, “Are we ready to go?”
Kate was carrying a fully stuffed backpack. The time to leave was nearly at hand, the approaching storm was on schedule and overhead.
“You two get the bikes warmed up and running and meet me at the metal door; I need to get ready to do one more thing. We need to hurry.”
Larry and I watched Kate walk down the path then stop a few feet from the metal door.
“Kate’s got the lead on this;” I said, “let’s just hope she knows what she’s doing with her…‘one more thing’….”
Seconds later, with Shaun securely inside my backpack, we rode both bikes down the path to where we were directly in front of the steel door and where Kate was standing.
Kate had brought with her a jar filled with her special coffee, “Think of it as both a baptism and a bit of insurance.”
Without hesitation she poured it over the three of us soaking us to our skins. Thankfully it was at room temperature. Immediately after our baptismal we heard the thunder.
“That lightning,” Kate said at the same time she was opening the metal door and ushering Larry and I to ride our bikes inside, “will induce the crystal to discharge. We’ve seconds to get inside before the portal opens at the end of the cave and our two and a half minute window of time to ride the four miles begins.”
A quick acceleration inside, then a silent prayer hoping Larry and I had done all that we could to make the M109 and the Raider ready for the race of races and I was set.
“Get ready;” Kate had climbed aboard the Raider behind Larry, “you’ll know our two and a half minute clock’s started when the portal opens before you.”
At the same time Kate said, “…before you” the portal opened at the end of the cave. Ahead of us was a narrow two lane road crossing the bleakest landscape I’d ever seen. Our two and a half minutes had just started.
“Punch it,” shouted Kate.
Larry had already released the clutch…I followed.
To fifty, and I’m being generous, my Wide Glide might’ve stayed with us. From fifty onward the Raider minus its rev limiter and the M109 were, with the exception of the Road Warrior, accelerating faster than any V-twin I’d ever ridden. Top speed soon became a relative term when we began to encounter dips and rises in the otherwise perfectly straight road. Larry, just ahead and to my left with Kate clinging tightly to him, would become airborne on some of the rises. Only the highest rises were slowing him down.
Fourth and fifth gears are both the Raider’s and the M109’s trump cards with their fifth being as high a ratio as sixth gear in many other bikes. My speedometer at one time read over 130 mph and I felt there was more.
Once or twice I glanced at the gray land paralleling us then stopped; it was too depressing. It reminded me of a picture I’d once seen of Hiroshima taken right after the atom bomb had been dropped. This landscape was like that picture but with, if it were possible, more devastation. Caught in the whirlpools of dust devils were clouds of ash that swirled around the skeletons of buildings that extended out as far as the horizon. Was this Armageddon, one of our…if we don’t get our shit together…realities? I felt I was being shown the future by A CHRISTMAS CAROL’S third ghost.
Nearly two minutes through our two and a half minute ride the undulations disappeared and our road leveled. The landscape was becoming less gray, less desolate and then suddenly we were surrounded by grassland. We’d crossed from one Borderland into another so fast I couldn’t see where one ended and the other began. Speaking of fast, the Raider sans rev limiter was easily holding its own with the M109.
Would the Raider and M109 have gotten to or exceeded 140 mph? We’d never find out; looming ahead, blocking our path was an elevated highway. To reach it our road had suddenly become a climbing, sharp turning exit/on ramp. We were down to our final fifteen seconds and Larry wasn’t slowing; if anything his speed had increased.
Chapter Nineteen Coming Soon!
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