On Memorial Day of 1980, Kevin, Linda and I decided it would be a good idea to go on a motorcycle camping trip at Yosemite.  The weather had been unseasonably warm and everything seemed right for a wonderful trip.  Linda and I had recently starting seeing each other and Kevin read an article that suggested a good way to judge a woman's temperament was to take her camping.  The theory being that several days away from the comforts of civilization would bring out either the best or the worst of her nature.  Made sense to me.

We spent the morning (I think is was a Saturday) getting packed and ready to go.  Kevin rode his 750 Honda - Linda and I rode double on my 850 Suzuki.  We ate a late breakfast at a local restaurant and headed east.  It was a bright, warm sunny day and we all felt great as we cruised down the highway.  As we go closer to Yosemite it became obvious that those clouds on the mountains that looked so benign from the valley, actually meant business.  We ran into a little drizzle that soon became real rain.  We put on our rain gear and managed to keep fairly dry.  Soon, however, it started to get downright cold as we climbed higher and higher in elevation and it started to get dark.  Eventually, the rain turned into snow flurries.  Luckily for us, none of it stuck to the highway and we were able to continue.  Eventually, we reached the entrance to Yosemite only to be told that all the campgrounds were full.  The lady in the kiosk told us that we could camp anywhere outside the park boundaries, however, since it was surrounded by National Forest.  All we had to do was flag down a Ranger to obtain a fire permit.  She told us where to look.  Sure enough, we followed her directions and soon came across a Ranger driving down the road - I flagged him down.  I remember it was dark, drizzling a little sleet, and about 35 degrees.  I'll always remember the blast of warmth that came out of the pickup as I approached the Ranger and he rolled down the window.  He gave me a fire permit and told me how to find the best camping area.  He also said there was small store several miles past the camp site which was a real good thing - we hadn't brought any food.  I walked back over to Kevin and Linda and told them the good news.  So far, so good.  Everyone was still in pretty good spirits and looking forward to relaxing around a campfire.   As we talked, the Ranger drove off, leaving us alone in the wilderness. 

I climbed back on my bike and fired it up.  I waited for a minute for Kevin's bike to start up before I took off - nothing.  I looked over at Kevin - he looked back and shrugged, indicating that his bike wouldn't start.  I turned mine off and turned my attention to Kevin's bike - there was absolutely no power anywhere.  The started didn't so much as click, and there were no lights.  I hoped it would be something simple like a blown main fuse - no such luck.  Luckily we had enough tools with us to track the power from the battery to the problem, which happened to be the ignition switch.  This was no small operation, requiring us to remove the fairing, headlight and other miscellaneous parts.  All this in the dark, cold, and wet.  Kevin  was a great help.  He remained calm and quickly did whatever I asked.  We made it a little lesson in troubleshooting a mechanical problem and luckily we actually found the problem and were able to jerry rig a solution.  Linda also was passing her little test.  Her mood remained cheerful.

By this time it was after 9:00 p.m. and since the Ranger told us the store closed at 10:00 p.m. we were getting a little worried we wouldn't make it.  We headed up the road and soon found the camping area the Ranger suggested.  We located a suitable campsite and left Kevin there to begin setting up camp while Linda and I made a food run to the store.  We got to the store just as it was closing - we were able to pick up some hot dogs, potato chips, soda and other essentials.  When we returned to our camp, we were surprised to see that Kevin already had both tents set up and was in the process of gathering some wood for a fire.  It was sure good to sit around that fire, eating hot dogs, and talking over our little adventure.  Life was good!

It got very cold that night - somewhere below 20 degrees.  When dawn arrived, we were all ready for a nice hot breakfast.  There was a lodge about 10 miles from our camp site that would do nicely.  As we sat eating our breakfast, there was a loud noise that sounded like rattling dishes.  A few seconds later there was some perceptible movement accompanied by more noise.  Since Kevin and I had experienced some earthquakes when we lived in the Los Angeles area, we both new we had experienced another.  There was a lot of chatter in the restaurant including a lot of nervous laughter.  Just as everyone was congratulating each other on getting through it, another, much more powerful tremor hit.  This one actually knocked dishes to the floor and caused a little mess - nobody was laughing now.  Someone had a radio and soon there was a news flash that said there had been a magnitude 6.0+ earthquake in the Mammoth Lakes region.  There were no reports of injury or major damage.  It was turning out to be quite a memorable trip. 

We left the restaurant and headed for Yosemite.  We cruised through the park, taking in all the magnificent scenery.  We decided that when we got to the lodge, at the east end of the Park and about half way through the loop, we would stop and get some lunch.  We arrived there about noon and pulled into the parking lot.  As I got off my motorcycle, and placed it on its side stand, I became dizzy.  About the same time, my motorcycle started to fall over.  As I held it up, I saw the tops of trees swaying, and heard the horrible sound of an earthquake - the sound like a train.  For a minute or so we all had trouble keeping our footing - cars were bouncing on their suspensions.  Finally, it was over.  Through the surreal quiet, came the sound of rock slides - sharp breaking sounds followed by long rumbling sounds as rocks broke off and fell thousands of feet.  Kevin, Linda, and I looked at each other - we all had the same thought - let's get the hell out of here!  It didn't take much imagination to see the valley floor filling up with several hundred feet of rock, smashing us all like bugs.  I cautioned Kevin about being careful for rocks on the road, especially in the tunnels near the entrance of the Park, and we took off - Kevin in the lead.  As we entered the tunnel, Kevin prudently slowed to about 30 mph in case there was some debris we couldn't see.  Once in the tunnel, however, I had a thought of another quake hitting while we were in there and burying us.  I decided to chance hitting any debris and punched it.  Strangely, when I did, I didn't gain on Kevin a bit - in fact I was falling behind.  It seems he had the same thought at the exact same second that I did and he punched it at the same time.  I often wonder what we must have looked like as we came shooting out of that tunnel - I don't know how fast we were going, but it was plenty fast.

We eventually got to a place where it didn't look like anything could fall on us and we pulled off the road.  We spent quite a while, there by the side of the road, counting our blessings and recounting our thoughts and experiences.  Eventually, our adrenaline subsided and we continued with our adventure.

We spent several more days in the area but they were pleasant and uneventful.  Strange, but I have no memories of them - only the adventure.  I was impressed with the way Kevin responded to our little emergencies - he kept his head and worked hard.  These qualities served him well throughout his life.