BigLefti's Adventures
rides, roads & good company — 2007 & beyond
← Tales from the Road
Chapter 17

The night I dropped a girl off a little early. Charleah Gay


By now I was back in Fullerton, sharing a house with my friend Mark. He was never shy around girls like I was. While I'd been off touring the Northwest, he'd found a new friend, and she'd moved in with him — eighteen years old, from Hondo, Texas. That part I didn't mind. She'd also brought her fourteen-year-old sister along, technically a runaway.

There were adjustments to make — four of us sharing one bathroom, two of them female, is its own kind of education. Mark and Mary had their room, I had mine, and Charleah, the fourteen-year-old, had the couch. It wasn't a big deal until we all went somewhere together.


One of our favorite places to eat was Jerry's BBQ in Buena Park — great food, with an open pit right in the middle of the dining room. Mark and I both used a little cannabis on occasion back then, which would sometimes give us the munchies and lead us straight to Jerry's. This particular outing, we rode our choppers out — Mary on his bike, Charleah on mine by default.

After a good meal and a little more mind expansion, I decided I was ready to head home. Mark didn't think he was quite there yet, but I was fine. Charleah and I hopped on my bike and pulled out of the lot — with an LA County Sheriff's car right behind us the whole way. We came up on a red light almost immediately, and being a little nervous with the sheriff on my tail, I forgot to put my feet down.

The bike went over to the left.

We both stepped off as it fell, neither of us hurt. As I mentioned in an earlier chapter, I was pretty good at eye diversion, and I put that skill to full use avoiding any glance at the sheriff. Between the two of us we got the chopper upright and rode on.


I took the back roads all the way home, pulled into the little detached garage behind our house on the alley, with the sheriff still watching. He saw us park, lock the door, and walk in through the back. He never pulled us over. Never said a word. What I've never been able to figure out is that somewhere in there, he'd crossed all the way into Orange County — completely out of his jurisdiction.

For what it's worth, I've never once ridden or driven in a compromised condition since. Looking back, I think he was just a good cop making sure we got home safe. I've kept in touch with Mark over the years — no idea what ever happened to either of the sisters.