I graduated from Chatsworth High School (CHS) - the Chancellors, in Chatsworth California in June '64....officially making me an "old fart" of the 4-point-5th degree. This reunion was not Chatsworth High School, so you may ask "Why in the hell was I going to the 45th reunion of the Hunters - Canoga Park High School (CPHS)?" Were there more good looking girls there in 1963/64, is the booze better at this reunion, was it cheaper....probably all of the above but NOT the reason. CHS was a new school and ours was the first class....a really small class...about 230----small by LA High School standards. CHS was formed from students transferred from 3 or 4 nearby schools and I was one of the transfers. It wasn't something anyone wanted to do in those days....start a new High School but choice was not part of the equation....if you were over the line on the map....you transferred. As time passed, the CHS reunions faded away because the class was so small, eventually resulting in combined reunions with classes before and after....all managed very efficiently and tastelessly by a Reunion planning company. Not my idea of a great reunion concept and probably why they eventually failed and CHS Class of S'64 is no more.
Below is me in 1964, most of us burn pictures like this but mine is forever in a yearbook!
ANYWAY, the Hunter's at CPHS are still going strong and they do their own reunions....very personal, somewhat quirky, with all of the "cliques" intact...don't-cha-love-it, and more memories to share than you can imagine. They also still consider us "lost waifs" as part of their Class.........we are without a living breathing class (not Classless, or lacking Class--if you please---just a lost Class without a home). So, I have been included at the last two reunions (40 and 45) and welcomed with hugs as though I never left them in 1963.
This year the Hunter Reunion was generously hosted by George and June Boskovich at their beautiful, expansive home in Camarillo, California. Donna Holden, with whom I had some prior contact for an MS150 bicycle ride sponsorship was the main organizer and with her gentle persuasion I decided to turn it into a long distance Harley ride over a long weekend. It is 1,600 miles from Smithfield, UT to Camarillo, CA, most of it high plains and desert Interstate highway riding. I planned to leave on a Friday at midday, stop in St George, UT for the night, then ride across the Mojave desert early Saturday in time for the reunion that evening at 5 pm. The return would involve another attempt at an Iron Butt 1,000 mile ride (which I failed at in June). Haller, my Marine Corps buddy decided to join me for the ride, and the IB attempt.
Discussions with other CPHS alums reminded us that several were Marines I had gone through Basic Training with in 1965. I prodded them and they agreed to attend the Reunion and make it into a quasi-Platoon 148 Reunion as well.
Haller showed up on his new Kawasaki Concours 14 on Thursday....looking thrashed after only 600 miles....we had 1,800 miles in three days to go. He said he didn't think he would do the Iron Butt but would stick with me for the ride down. We left about noon on Friday and on the way I did a short "service call" at a landfill in Layton, UT where one of my weather station customers was having a problem....30 minute stop, then on the road to St George. We spent the night on sleeping bags in my Mother's vacant house, then hit the road at about 6 am for California. Down I-15, to the Pearblossum Highway, across on Route 14, eventually to the Coast at Ventura and into Camarillo at about 3 pm. We had quick showers, were met by two Marines (Greg Erikson and Bill Hutton), then off to the party.
George and June's home was spectacular. Valet parking, open bar, Bar-B-Que dinner, D.J. with patio dancing and about 150 "Hunters" to have fun with. George is a Vintage Mustang collector and had about ten completely restored Mustangs, including Shelby versions at his home. George has "done well" in life and he deserves it........hard work and an honest life......good for you George.
I rode the Harley over, Haller rode with Erikson, and they allowed me to park the bike against the house rather than on the street......a kindness I appreciated. As usual, the reunion was more than just a success....because it was handled by volunteers who really cared that it be special. There was even a side benefit in that Haller has some hearing damage from service related exposure to jet engines and Bill Hutton is a National coordinator for Vietnam Vets with the V.A. Hutton volunteered to help Haller get the disability qualification he rates for his service.
Here is a picture of the Marines at the party.
Erikson, Hutton, Haller, Me
I avoided drinking alcohol after about 7 pm and we called it a night about 11. Up early, gassed up, got our mileage certifications for the IB ride and we headed for Santa Ana to have brunch with another Marine buddy. Mike Allen was one of VMA(AW)533 in Chu Lai, and a close friend of Haller and I. He missed the Squadron Reunion in June, so we decided to see him on the return.....we needed another 200 miles on the return leg to make 1,000 and Mike's place was placed just about right. We got there about 10 or 11 am and had a good hour or so, then off we went to Blythe, CA, via Riverside. The ride was hotter than you can imagine, probably about 105-110 at points. Fortunately, Haller and I were wearing evaporative cooling vests. They are made of a polymer impregnated material that soaks up about 3 quarts of water, then evaporates as you ride. The cooling effect is almost like having the A/C on in a car. When the core of the body is cooled the cool blood circulates and cools the extremities....really works. You can recharge the vests every 2 hours or so and stay quite comfortable during desert summer rides.
As we left Blythe the sky was clear and the air HOT. We headed up Route 95 towards Needles and crossed a "whole-lotta-nothing" for about 60 miles before the sky developed rain bearing clouds over the distant mountains. As we got nearer it was apparent there might be a problem. The storm missed us but the lightning did not and a flash flood was filling the dips in the highway. We had no choice but to go forward because Needles was only 25-30 miles in front of us and we had to get away from the lightning as there was no cover. Lightning is a serious hazard to a motorcyclist and the protocol is to stop the bike, get into a building or under a bridge and wait it out....unfortunately there was no cover, so we opted for Plan B and tried to ride out of it. The road dips ranged from a few feet to many feet deep and the water ranged from inches to about 14 inches deep....and the deep areas were small rivers filled with branches, rocks and sand. Our bikes performed quite differently in the water. my open framed Harley Dyna let the water flow through the frame, with the "bow wave" from the tire flowing up over my boots and chaps, drenching my seat and jeans but not my upper body. Haller's Concours was fully faired in front and the bow wave literally flowed over his bike, including his helmet and he was completely drenched with every water entry.....hilarious to watch (him submerging under that muddy water) but not so funny for poor Haller.
We quickly discovered that the best riding method in the dips was to enter them at low speed, to avoid hydroplaning, then gently accelerate to keep the front wheel on top of the sand. That worked for about twenty+ dips until my front wheel hit a submerged rock and I dropped the bike in about 12-14 inches of rushing water. The bike was crosswise in the water, on a slight uphill slope, with a river flowing over it (and me). After three attempts to lift all 800 pounds of it I was joined by two young girls (20's), who got out of their car and waded into the water. They had been waiting for the water to drop with several other cars and an 18 wheeler. The three of us lifted it easily, they assured themselves I was OK and I was able to restart the drowned bike and power my way through the submerged sand to the roadbed. This was one time when the knight on his charger was rescued by the damsels. Haller was waiting about 200 yards up the road, where he was able to find a spot to stop and was walking back to help when I caught up to him. We elected to press on to Needles as the lightning danger was still there. After another ten water filled dips we crested the mountains and headed down to Needles. I considered myself very lucky until I stopped for fuel in Needles and noticed a pint or so of watery oil under my bike.....inspection indicated a finger sized hole in the primary engine cover and loss of all of the oil that lubricated the chain and clutch.....fortunately, the crankcase was not damaged and the engine oil was clean.
At this point I got to experience the Harley HOG support network. It was 5 pm, Sunday night in Needles, CA (that is two blocks from the end of the world). A call to HOG and the following happened:
1. A motorcycle tow truck appeared the next morning at about noon and took me 66 miles to Kingman, AZ (the nearest Harley Dealer)---Mother Road H-D.
2. A new primary engine cover was overnighted from "somewhere" in the H-D system, arriving before 10 am Tuesday.
3. Mother Road H-D mechanics put all other work aside and my bike was on the road by noon that day.
COST: List price for parts, no expediting or overnight costs, one hours labor, a quart of oil and two gaskets. UNBELIEVABLE-----H-D ROCKS.
Monday night was spent at a motel near Mother Road H-D and I can recommend a great Biker Bar nearby. Cold beer, lots of local characters, a friendly bartender and good Bratwurst. If you are in Kingman stop at Mad Dogs for Brats and beer.
The next day I hit the road at 12:30 and was home in bed 12 hours later. One thing I did enjoy about the return ride was crossing over Boulder Dam. The Dam is still open to cars and motorcycles but closed to trucks and cars pulling trailers. Homeland Security is checking everyone as the Dam is a strategic installation and has appropriate security. People warned me I was looking at an hour of traffic but there was none. I literally rode through the security stop and over the dam....no stops except to take a couple of pictures. They are building a huge highway bridge over the gorge in front of the dam and it is spectacular.
The next day I hit the road at 12:30 and was home in bed 12 hours later. One thing I did enjoy about the return ride was crossing over Boulder Dam. The Dam is still open to cars and motorcycles but closed to trucks and cars pulling trailers. Homeland Security is checking everyone as the Dam is a strategic installation and has appropriate security. People warned me I was looking at an hour of traffic but there was none. I literally rode through the security stop and over the dam....no stops except to take a couple of pictures. They are building a huge highway bridge over the gorge in front of the dam and it is spectacular.
Soooooooooo, my IB attempt FAILED again but we will try once again this year before the first snow falls.
Haller left me in Needles by mutual agreement and he DID do his IB successfully, starting in Needles and ending in Baker City, OR (1010 miles).
Lesson learned.....don't try to turn a road Harley into a boat!
Miles covered 1850 over 4.5 days....including 1.5 days down with a "dead" motorcycle.
