Reese Kaplan -- Musings on a Mets Motorcycle Trip

Some of you may know that I reside in El Paso, TX, most recently in the news at the center of the border wall controversy.  I moved here in 2006 to escape cold weather and enjoy the environment for more than just a few months of the year when it wasn’t literally raining on my parade outdoors.   

A few years after arriving I picked up a long-lost passion for motorbikes.  Given the normally mild temperatures and the desert climate it seemed that this area would be one for year-round riding pleasure.  I started off on scooter type bikes and graduated to a wide variety of options, some of which were not suitable for anyone with a propensity to have a heavy hand on the throttle.

Today was an unseasonably cold day by El Paso standards and people claimed to have seen white stuff falling from the sky, though outside my office window I think they were having Frosty the Snowman hallucinations.  Still, the biting temperatures got me to thinking about how best to enjoy the warmth once it returns.

That set of thoughts coincided with another collection which centered around a medical mishap of mine from back in December.  I’d gone in for outpatient surgery that was frankly mostly cosmetic in nature – correcting a hammertoe that was ugly but not causing me any pain.  I’ve had similar operations in the past.  They break the toe, insert a wire, you wear a boot for 5-6 weeks, they yank out the wire and you’re back to your normal life. 

Prior to any operation you’re presented with a sheaf of documents to sign which all essentially say, “Don’t sue us if anything goes wrong!”  Of course, they present it to you once you’re already half in the bag from anesthesia, but I dutifully affixed my John Hancock on the dotted lines and off I went to dreamland, awakening later in the recovery room wearing the big boot on my right foot.

This time around things did not proceed exactly as planned.  Instead of a wire this new doctor wanted to use a metal plate and screws to hold my cut and reshaped big toe together.  On the second visit to the podiatrist to have the bandage changed I was told to head directly to the hospital because there was indication of infection (that stuff they warned you about on those forms you signed).

I went into the ER as instructed, figuring they’ll shoot me full of antibiotics and send me on my merry way. 

Ummm, no…

I wound up in the hospital for nine days, endured two more surgeries to try to clean out the infection, was put on an IV drip of antibiotics and when discharged needed to continue twice daily IV injections of the antibiotics the clear up the infection.  In addition, they attached me to something called a wound vacuum that essentially is a big suction cup over a dual layer of sponges to suck the fluids from the open wound into a canister in the machine to facilitate healing from the inside. 

I’ll spare you the rather disgusting visuals as I’ve been keeping a photo diary of the progress of the healing, but healing it is, albeit much more slowly than I would have hoped.  Had it been my left foot it would have made life immeasurably easier as I would be able to drive.  Since it’s my right foot, I haven’t been behind the wheel of a vehicle since December 12^th.

Last week I went to see the surgeon who did the post-operative cleanup surgeries in the hospital for a progress report.  She looked at the wound and was very pleased with the effectiveness of the wound vacuum, but kind of broke my heart when she said, “Plan on another 6 weeks or so of using it.” 

So what all does this medical whining have to do with motorcycles, cold weather and the Mets?  Well, I got to thinking that I could combine my four months or so off the bikes into a long road trip to see a live Mets game.  The first thought was the Arizona Diamondbacks, about 6.5 hours away in Phoenix.  Then there’s the Colorado Rockies about 9.5 hours away in Denver.  The Mets are not playing AL games in Arlington or Houston, so that left the Texas options out this year. 

I checked the schedule and see that the Mets are indeed playing a weekend series in Arizona on May 31^st through June 2^nd.  While it’s a lot of time in the saddle, an 8:00 AM departure from El Paso would get me into Phoenix around 4:00 PM (allowing some time for rest stops and gas).  That would give me time to check into a hotel, shower, rest up and hit the 7:10 game.  Then it would be the reverse on Sunday morning back to Texas. 

It was a relatively easy decision on the Diamondbacks rather than the Rockies.  It wasn't just the extra three hours of travel.  The Colorado series is mid-week which would necessitate taking time off from work (many days of which were already used on the hospital stay).  It’s not until September and there’s no telling how far in front or behind the team will be by then.  More importantly if I chose Arizona, I could head there a month or two after resuming normal shoes and I’m kind of chomping at the bit to get riding again.  Going to Denver would be more picturesque for sure, plus I’d get to see Daniel Murphy.  Instead I’ll have to settle for seeing Wilmer Flores in Phoenix. 

The logistical problem for a June 1^st game would be the opposite of the weather situation right now.  It will be HOT in El Paso, through New Mexico and into Arizona.  Fortunately, even when fully laden in protective gear you’re not suffering too badly from the heat so long as the bike stays in motion.  It’s traffic and stop lights that are the killer in hot weather. 

The next decision would be which bike to use.  I had acquired a 4^th bike in advance of selling two of the three I had when the proverbial offer too good to pass up happened upon me.  So now I’ve got two up for sale on consignment and two in my garage teasing me every time I limp past them.  One is a little-known bike by Honda called the NM4 which usually gets dubbed the Batmobile bike.  

Then there is the dual sport, primitive technology dinosaur called a Kawaski KLR650.  Comfort tells me to ride the Honda.  The Mets fan in me says the blue Kawi with an orange helmet is more in keeping with the spirit of the trip. 

Anyway, is riding for over 13 hours in two days to see a Mets game stupid or a sign of being a fanatic (the root word from which fan is derived)?