EUREKA

James Michael Taylor

My motto is INWARD THRU THE FOG. One day about a month ago, Laura ‘Taylor’ Whitfield told me I should, “write that song.” Thinking back on a fog-bound night in California, I wrote it. Norman Pilcher, a friend from Texas, and I were headed north up the Redwood Highway headed toward Portland, Oregon when we blew a back tire and hit the ground pretty hard.

EUREKA Key of Em

1. Riding (EM) buddy behind Norman. (C) 101 up California
   Dumped the (AM) bike out in the (D) middle of the (Em) road
   Cracked my helmet on the pavement
   That old road’s a cruel assailant
   Throw a tire and you take that body blow
   Drag the (C) bike into the red woods
   Cover (Em) up with moss and dead wood
   Crunch of (Am) pine cones as you limp back to the (B) road
   That old Avenue of Giants parallels that Redwood Highway
   Cardboard sign that says Eureka is our goal

2. Zip our coats, it’s getting colder as we step up on the shoulder.
   Two big thumbs out at the bend at Hodges Road
   I think, “Oh, no, here comes a Smoky.”
   Pulls it over, drives real slow, he stops the car
   Opens the door and says, “Let’s go.”
   Drops us off outside Maranda. Fifty miles now from Eureka
   Moon is waning and the air as thick as snow
   There, we languish in the silence
   As Norman’s feet yield to the violence
   I take my sox off and he pulls them on real slow

3. Soggy mist glows in the moonlight
   As we slip into a mud slide
   and get tangled in the darkness down the slope
   Busting blisters in my sneakers. Sweaty toes, like naked sisters
   Another Eureka Moment if you’re keeping score
   And I’m not one to grovel, if it matters I read the novel
   And I’ll be there no matter where I go
   The fog hangs at eye-lever. About five feet above the devil
   and I know you know I know

4. Finally reached Eureka Junction in the wake of our malfunction
   Where stranded hippies leave laments along the road
   My sleeping bag was made of paper but that night it was my savior
   Thanks to some entrapinour in Idaho
   Red dress ria el portuna. Sin quinta down to nada
   Eureka’s just another town along the road