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The Devil’s Hopyard
SATURDAY’S ROAD TRIP plans were solid. They would drive into Middletown and head down Old Saybrook Road toward East Haddam to ultimately reach Devil’s Hopyard, a state park with good hiking trails, and a series of waterfalls had the unusual acoustic properties. The old legends of the Hopyard were that the Devil would dance on the rocks of Chapman Falls, as his minions would brew various concoctions in the naturally formed cauldron-like potholes at the bottom of the falls. The early settlers imagined these potholes were formed from the Devil’s own hooves as he danced under the falls. It was a place full of local color, which naturally attracted the Hades’ Spawn Motorcycle Club.
They could go Route 9, a double-lane highway that rode straight to the East Haddam exit, but the little towns that strung along Route 154 were more picturesque. Luke planned a stop at a popular Mexican restaurant along Route 154 for lunch. After, they’d continue down to the East Haddam turnoff and travel over the swing bridge that provided passage over the broad Connecticut River. From there they’d head through the narrow roads of the centuries-old town, which by design looked like it never entered the twenty-first century, and through the back roads until they reached the state park. On the way back they would stop at a local restaurant for dinner. The whole trip was only 60 miles round trip, but the roads were hilly and twisty, the last stretch of road before the park being a little bit of a roller coaster, so there was fun riding those roads. They wouldn’t even need to stop for gas, but Luke marked out where the gas stations were on the maps, in case anyone forgot to gas up.
Luke was looking forward to it. Well, there was one other thing he anticipated more, but Emily hadn’t said ‘yes’ right off to a date with him. She told him she had to deal with a lot of stuff right now because of all the crap with her ex. Okay. He got it. He’d have to go slow, call her a few times, and work up to a date. He waited this long. He figured he could wait a little longer. That was the benefit of not being a kid anymore.
Twenty bikes lined up in front of his shop ready to go. Some of the club members stored their bikes in his back-storage space either for security or space reasons, so everyone found it convenient to meet at his shop.
Luke decided since it was a relatively short ride, and he was riding solo anyway, to take out his third bike, his 2014 Iron 883. He bought it last year on an impulse because he liked the hard-black styling through the body and wheels, and the no nonsense ride. The Sportster was fun for charges down the highway, but he liked the attitude of the Iron 883. Lower to the ground than other models, and a bit shorter, it was made for maneuverability at high speeds. He loved how the bike responded to the shift of his body as he moved down the road.
Different members of the club greeted Luke as he stepped out of the shop and locked the door. He kept the shop open for half-days on Saturdays for customers who worked during the week so they could pick up their bikes. Gibbs and Saks were milling around the crew, doing small checks on bikes. Luke didn’t mind, even encouraged this. It promoted good will with the club for his business. It was a definite plus for Hades’ Spawn to have three resident bike mechanics on hand.
“Hey, Spade,” said Helen, Gibs’ wife using Luke’s club name. For all Gibs groused about his wife, Gibs was lucky and knew it. Even though she was the same age as Gibs, she had a spectacular body and a sweet personality. Gibs moaned she worked out at the gym all the time, which explained the body, but a sweet personality, only the good Lord makes that.
Surprised, he saw Wanda, the barista from the coffee shop standing next to Saks’ bike.
“Hey, Luke,” she said, smiling at him.
“Hey, Wanda. Riding with Saks?”
“Saks? Oh, you mean Tony.”
“Yeah. Tony. We call him Saks.”
“Why?”
“You should ask him.”
“I’ll do that. Is it all right that I come along?”
Luke chuckled. “Sure. We don’t have the new girls partake in the ritual orgies until after a few rides. By then we’re sure if we like you or not.”
She shook her head at his joke, but grinned back at him.
Luke chatted with several members while they waited for Jake Kinney, Aces, the company president. The club had elected him as president unanimously two weeks ago.
Jake had told Luke he was annoyed with himself for the vote, sticking his hand up when he felt differently about the situation. However, he didn’t want to be the odd man out, and everyone was in agreement anyway. It felt disloyal to him that the club members were willing to give up Okie so easily.
As they waited for Aces to arrive, a couple club members came by Luke’s bike, one of them complimenting the nearly total black styling on the bike, except for the gun-gray gas tank.
Aces pulled in on his ride, and drove straight over to Luke. Luke eyed the new patch on Aces’ leathers, the one that said “President”.
“You like those Sportsters, don’t you?” Aces asked.
Technically, the Iron 883 did have a Sportster body. “There are differences. Nuances in handling.”
Aces slapped him on the back. “And you’d know about them. I’ve never met anyone who knew so much about bikes. Glad we have you here.”
He shrugged as he looked up and checked the changeable New England sky. “Looks like we have fair weather. We should get going.”
As Road Captain, Luke rode at the front of the pack with Aces. The eighteen other bikers pulled out in back of them. They roared down the road toward Route 66 that led into Middletown. They passed the diner that had been there forever, and past the faded red barn that had been turned into a bar, which was now a popular biker’s hangout. It would be many club members’ last stop for the night on the return trip.
The bikes rumbled down the four-lane road into the center of town and took a right down Main Street. Plenty of cars lined the parking spaces on either side, even for a Saturday afternoon, since Main Street had the highest proportion of restaurants to other businesses that Luke had ever seen. About ninety percent of the storefronts along Main Street were eating places.
Main Street led into Route 154, a portion of which was called Old Saybrook Road. As they left the town, the trees rose up on either side of them.
A half hour on the road brought them to the Mexican restaurant. Someone called Saks over to check the chain on his bike, so Wanda was left standing there looking lost. Luke was about to go over to her when Aces strode over and started chatting with her. Wanda looked confused, then guarded, as Aces talked to her and she shook her head. When she turned away to walk towards Saks, Aces pinched her ass.
Luke’s mouth drew into a hard line when he saw that. Touching another member’s lady, either a date or an old lady, was not done. Other clubs might have different rules but that one stood fast in Hades’ Spawn so as to avoid problems with the membership. Aces knew that.
Lunch went smooth enough, though he noted Aces drank more than he should and his voice got loud at their shared table. He was grabby with the waitress, which wasn’t cool. Luke felt obligated to give the woman a higher tip than usual just for putting up with Aces when he went to settle up the bill. He’d make sure he’d charge Aces for the extra amount also. Luke easily kept tabs on who ordered what, and would collect the members’ shares later. He had a head for this sort of thing, one of the reasons he was Road Captain. He never thought all through high school that his natural ability for math would come in handy. He always could remember numerical information about motorbike specs with ease. In the Navy, he discovered that transferred into other mechanical areas as well. He became known as the walking dictionary of engine specifications. Even the officers deferred to his skill when it came to fixing the engines of the big boats.
They climbed back on their bikes and continued through the back roads of Connecticut to the swing bridge over the Connecticut River. Riding over it was always interesting as the bed of the bridge was completely metal to accommodate its function. It could be slippery when wet, which urged caution when traveling over it. But today was a bright, sunny day, and Luke enjoyed riding over the bridge with the water of the river sparkling in the sun. The sound of the club’s engines filled the little town as they headed up a steep and twisty climb that took them further into the backcountry of Connecticut. This town was once a significant Connecticut farming colony in the seventeen hundreds when a splinter group of Puritans broke off from the colony in Wethersfield and migrated here. Like all Connecticut towns of that period, it rapidly took on manufacturing in the eighteen hundreds, but it never lost its small town cache. Others of the original settlements, New Haven, Hartford and Bridgeport, grew into major cities. However, time slipped past East Haddam, leaving it with its history and forgotten farm fields overgrown now with trees. Anyone who didn’t know better would wonder why the road was lined with low fences of fieldstone.
They took a quick right onto Route 152 and then a left onto Mount Parnassus Road, which was a fun part of the trip. The windy and hilly two-lane road was surrounded on both sides by a near-solid line of newly budding trees. It had a bit of a roller-coaster feeling as they traversed its length. After nearly a half hour they passed the three-road intersection that marked the little forgotten village of Millington. Like East Haddam, time slipped by Millington as well and any small business it had slipped away along with the reason for it existing. They took a right onto Hopyard Yard and soon entered the entrance of Devil’s Hopyard State Park.
#
LUKE ENJOYED A WALK along the path that edged the series of falls with Gibs and Helen. It was a little rough in places, as the park wasn’t officially open and the park staff hadn’t cleared the trails of winter debris. It was still a nice walk up and down the paths, listening to the loud rushing of the stream swollen with recent rains.
Saks walked up to them with a perturbed look on his face.
“Have you seen Wanda?”
“No,” said Luke.
“Hmm, we got separated. Maybe I was walking too fast for her.”
“Let’s go find her,” said Luke. “Helen, Gibs, see you later.”
The path they were walking split in two. “I’ll go up this way. Maybe she’s looking for you and got lost.”
Saks nodded and headed down the other path. Luke found himself walking over a bridge heading toward the camping grounds. Suddenly he heard a scream, and he raced toward it. A couple other club members heard it also and followed him. His boots crunched on the gravel walk as he pounded his feet to reach whoever was distressed. At one of the campsites, Luke found Aces with a struggling Wanda in his arms.
Luke ran up to him and jerked the man’s arm to face him. “Not cool, man.”
“Get your hands off me,” spit Aces. “We’re just having a little fun.”
“You were. She wasn’t.”
Aces looked at Wanda, who shrank away from him. A couple of the women from the club came up to her and stood protectively around her. Wolf Jackson, the new vice prez, and Dagger Simson, the sergeant-of-arms, came to stand behind Luke and Aces.
“Are you challenging me?” Aces glared at Luke.
“No. Just I think you had too much to drink, Aces, and apparently you misjudged her interest.”
Aces looked back and forth at the growing crowd, who had looks ranging from concern to anger.
“Fuck, whatever. I had a few.” He passed Luke, his shoulder purposely banging into Luke. “But don’t ever fucking touch me again, Spade. I won’t tolerate insubordination.”
