into the storm and goo wearing my cranky pants...

This posting will not have any photos.  Why?  It's hard to take pictures while holding onto motorcycle handlebars and pay attention to the road. The day started out warm as we packed the bike to head for Arches National Park. But, as we stood by the bikes, we both heard the booming thunder and felt a swoosh of cooler air.  It was an omen of things to come...we just didn't know it..yet.
Arches was absolutely gorgeous-but because of slow busses and fumes, we did decided not to venture too far and elected to head out and save the park for another day in a car!

We didn't get far out of the park when we had to stop to put on our rain gear. The lightening began to dance across the dark sky and  the road sign told us Price, UT was 15 miles away. We tried to beat the storm and had no luck.  Looking at the dark sky with shooting lightening was frightening and both John and I knew we were not going to get into safe harbor..and we did not.  Hail, rain, sleet, wind came out of the dark sky with a vengence. Time to put on my Cranky Pants!

In 50 years of riding NEVER have I witnessed all in one trip the amount of crappy weather we have had with this trip.  With my Cranky Pants there was nothing I could do except hunker down and plow through the storm.  It was frightening to ride in the hail.  Not only did it hurt...it was blinding. When the hail let up, the rain came ..and it rained hard.  I don't know we kept the rubber side on the road. We took a necessary break in Price to decompress.  But, we were in for more...we just didn't know it.

50 years and I've only had a case of the "Willies" (who is that anyway??) once. Today, climbing up Soldiers Summit, I can say, I have had them twice.  My Cranky Pants didn't have time to be Cranky (that would come later) - I was too scared.  We snaked along side a river up the highway toward the summit.  The rain came in sheets of blinding,cold rain.  Visibility was zero.  John had been leading, but moved behind me with his flashers on to give us some type of visibility. My fear was not seeing the turns in the road..not seeing the road at all...being hit from behind...having the wind blow me off the road...having road spray from 18 wheelers totally blind me.  All I could do was trust my abilities and hang on...and send out a prayer.

At the top of the pass sat a little gas station and store.John had to help me off the bike as I was shaking so badly.  The two ladies inside the store had me sit down and they made my day when they told me we were at the top and the weather looked better going down.  I stayed in the store to get warm, quit shaking and regain some confidence. As we were about to leave, John offered a prayer and a blessing. At that moment, the rain stopped.  Hmmmm... We scooted down the mountain for the first time in 3 hours at almost freeway speed.

Cranky Pants...as we left Salt Lake and headed for West Wendover, my heart sank:  Looming ahead was another dark cloud.  Have you ever felt like the cartoon character, Pigpen..where the woofting of dust follows him everywhere? That's the way I felt when I saw the leading edge of another storm.  We had taken off our rain gear in Salt Lake-the sky was blue-sun was out-we checked the weather-AOK...NOT SO.  On the side of the busy highway we stopped on the shoulder to put on our well-used rain gear. Before we got it on...the thunder boomed and lightening flashed.  Now I'm CRANKY!  I turn around and there is a State Patrolman stopped to check on us.  I, wearing the PANTS, unloaded on him about the crappy weather in Utah! I'm laughing as I'm dumping...but I am CRANKY.  The rain came from the left, then the right, then it pushed from behind and finally, it swirled around and attacked from the front.  CRANKY PANTS OBSERVATION: WHEN RAIN COMES A SWIRLING...IT RAINS IN MY HELMET.

And what is up with wind socks and signs saying HIGH WIND AREA????  This was too much for me;  three THREE major storms in one day?  Again, no visibility, high winds, awful pelting rain, hail, lightening.  AND WHAT IS THE AWFUL GOO ALONG THE ROAD SIDE?  The Great Salt Lake?
I felt like I was on an alien planet...goo, mud...goo on both sides of the road.  AND..what are those strange little clumps of green growing out of the goo?  Alien plants...AND..JUSTHOW DO THEY PUT TELEPHONE POLES IN THE GOO?

We stopped one last time before West Wendover 79 miles to go. I remind myself to get a book about the goo and the alien pod plants. AND WHAT IS THAT STENCH?  More windsocks filled with air flying straight out ...high winds..but..say it isn't so...no rain..AND WHAT IS THAT SILLY STATUE THINGY WITH BALLS ON IT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GOO? My shoulders ache, my hands are numb and my dodgy knee is throbbing. Less goo as we get closer to West Wendover. There is hope...our exit appears and we arrive at our destination in one piece-check in to Montego Bay and insert the magnetic key and enter a beautiful room.

CRANKY PANTS COMMENTS: THIS IS THE WORST RIDING VACATION I'VE EVER HAD AND NEVER GETTING TO COMPLAIN --BECAUSE I MUST ALWAYS  LOOK AT MY PART- I REFUSE TO DO THAT RIGHT NOW (ALAS, I AM HUMAN AND RIGHT NOW A LITTLE GIRL) I AM WEARING THE "PANTS" I GET TO GRIPE-JUST THIS ONCE. OK..I'm done griping and am going to bed and wake up in a new land without goo and alien pod plants and without my little girl Cranky Pants.

Little Blue Girl showing some road dirt

She doesn't look TOO bad, huh?

Help!  I'm melting-boots, rain gear..melting all over my exhaust!

The weather was perfect as we left Albuquerque and headed for Utah.  Lee was our captain-leader and the pace he chose was great for this little band of gypsies-and...no wind other than the normal freeway wind.  He chose a scenic route as we approaced Mesa Verde in the corner of Colorado which was a very nice change from blasting on the freeway.

We lunched picnic style in Aztec, NM

and found our way along the old hwy 666 renamed to the:

The holy Ghost highway...well, it is Sunday!

One of the pit stops along our route.  with 400+ miles to go to Utah, we stopped to rest weary bones and hydrate and rest my dodgy right knee, every 60 miles or so...give or take amile or two. It really doesn't matter how many stops you make-you still arrive tired and full of dirt. 

One of the great stops we made was in Macons, CO at Zuma's natural Food and Espresso Bar where we chatted with the manager, a lady from Seattle, and had hot chocolate and lemon/blueberry cake.

We cruised through Monticello, Ut to take photo of the new Temple and change into warm rain gear...clouds are gathering on the horizon where we are headed.

We ended our day in Moab with a good meal at the Blue Pig and saying fiar skies and safe journies to our road buddies Lee and Palma who have truly earned their road names:  Sultan and Dancer.

 We venture up the road toward Salt Lake City and a visit with one of my friends, Ellina and then head West toward home.

..dancin' in the wind with a Chihauhua

Odessa to Albuquerque started out with good intentions.  We met Lee and Palma at the Pierman Vietnam Memorial to take photo and have one last goodbye to the group.  Since we arrived before the group, we had plenty of good opportunity for unobstructed photos of the memorial.

Seeing this again still gives me goose pimples.  The life-like expressions and body postures of the statues wrenches my gut with pure emotion.  Three men, one wounded, onhe carrying him and hailing a Huey for rescue and one looking back for the enemy is how Vietnam was fought.  Knowing that my husband hung out the door with a 60 caliber machine gun giving support and helping evac still gives me the shivers.

We found Santa Ed in the crowd and wished him a safe journey.  Ed is quite a guy and we four adventurers, Sultan, Dancer, Crusty and bubblegum, feel happy to call him friend.

The Run's Good Servants:  Shepherd and Preacher with Me and John-Bubblegum and Crusty.

As we said our goodbye's to the group, Lee stood at attention and paid tribute by saluting.

OK...we ride on toward our night's destination of Albuquerque...and along the way we lured Sultan and Dancer to the DARK SIDE...we watched them shake hands with two Banditios. Don't ask...just look them up. These were nice guys who took the time to give us good directions to Roswell. Well, they were nice to us..and as Palma said, "We are all God's children."  So true.

Lee and Palma take on the Hydration Team duties...thank you, little yellow trailer!

Somewhere along a dirty, dusty, road in West Texas or New Mexico..there wasn't a sign that told us we had entered New Mexico.

Alien encounters at Fraley's diner in Roswell

...definitely aliens..you can tell by the silly grins.

After eating at Fraley's diner in Roswell...our 400+ mile trip got very interesting.

No alien sightings...just the wind...howling and whipping us in multiple directions all at the same time. It was hard work holding up Blue Girl..but she plowed though and carried me through while I was thinking...I'm gonna die on this road...We had to stop every 50 miles for me to decompress and be able to breathe.  After one of our decompress stops, and we were actually able to go 50MPH, I saw Lee tap his brakes and then hit them HARD.  I shifted down and then braked hard. Lee swerved to miss....a CHIHUAHUA in the middle of the freeway! EEK! I slowed down and waited for the mutt to run back to it's owners (who should be fined for not having the mutt on a leash!!).  We rode over 300 miles in the miserable wind. 400+ MILES IN THE ICKY WIND. At one decompress stop when John asked me how I was...I said, My gawd, My gawd, I'm going to die...that's how I feel. At that moment - all I wanted to do was to be in a car.

But, we made it into Albuquerque safe, but certainly not sound.



News about Agitator

A-OK...the guy has 9,10, 11 lives and an angel on his shoulder:  No broken bones, no head trauma.  Richard will be alright...his bike is another story...a million pieces.  He, Richard, there's an easier way to get a new bike!!

on the road again...just can't wait to get on the road again.....

Good morning Las Cruses! sunny, but cool as we head out of the hotel to stage the bike (line up in our platoon), and meet in the VWF hall for breakfast. Whee! Ready to go across the West Texas desert where I'm sure there will be wind, and swirling sand.  It's the desert!

Morning meeting. Shepherd gave tribut to the women today and I was honored to have my name announced as being a valuable part of the run Hydration Team. No thanks necessary...it's my honor to serve.

Our first tribute stop was at the WW2 Baatan Death March memorial. This is one of my favorite stops on the Run.  It is like being on sacred ground to see the footsteps in concrete replicating the 1800 men who marched...only 900 survived. 

 I met a man, who is from Tacoma whose father was a Batan survivor..a quiet man who said his father never talked much about it except to say that his country needed him and he enlisted.  the man told me thqat he found out his father's military history when he signed up to go into the Marines.  it was then that his father opened a trunk and shared his past.  His father died this past year and he isriding in his memory.  It's stories like this that make me pause to remember the sacrifices made for my freedoms.

Our good friend Lee, Sultan, was part of the Wreath Laying Honor Guard at his memorial.  What a joy to see him marching and saluting and being a part of a solemn and reverent ceremony. Standing with Palma, Dancer, while the ceremony took placeadded to the joy of seeing our dear friends participate in the Run.

Sultan and the honor guard getting briefed.

400 milesto cover and by mile 300, my body and mind said I was DONE.  I neede to spread out and ride my bike, not feel cramped and mentally exhausted from having to be on high alert.  So, after our fueling stop in Pecos, TX, John and I beat feet for Odessa on our own.

We ended our day with dinner at Ray's Equipment: Catfish, chicken, cold slaw, really good baked beans and cake and ice cream. I knew i would be sad because we are leaving the group, but I will ride home with all of them in my heart for the honorable people they are---and I will see them next year

 ALL THE WAY TO THE WALL!

Tomorrow we meet Lee and Palma at the pierman Basin Vietnam Memorial

 - say goodbye to the group and strike out on our own the 4 of us toward New mexico, Utah and then home.

We will leave Sultan and

Dancer in Utah and head for home-leaving them to find more adventures on the big yellow bee before they turn their hearts toward home.

..it happened on the road to Las Cruses

The day had started out good - the sun was out with the promise of a great ride across the desert.  We had time to chat with Sultan and Dancer (Lee and Palma), other road buddies.

Bubblegum and Dancer right before Phoenix departure.

Sultan and Dancer in the big yellow bee with their tag along trailer. How cute is this??

One of the Tail Gunners for Platoon 2 was Richard, "Agitator" Gonzales - our friend. 30 miles outside of Wilcox, AZ, his bike hit a guard raiL (actually a short wall) and he fell.  Riding in the front part of Platoon 3 (which follows Platoon 2), my platoon came upon Richard right after the accident happened.  At the time I did not really know it was Richard; but I thought I recognized his torn apart bike and I thought it was him on the ground. Seeing the blown apart bike and pieces still moving was an eerie feeling and it unbalanced me.

John and I did not participate in the dinner at the HD dealership. We elected to leave the group at the last fuel stop in Savoy,NM and ride into Las Cruses alone. The group and the pace of rubber banding was getting to me and I needed time on the road with just my husband.

I posted this photo of John and Richard a couple of days ago, but it seems fitting to post it again.  Richard's accident brings a salient issue into clarity.  Riding motorcyles is not just an adventure.  It is a dangerous activity where the illusion of control is just that: an illusion.  We can take all of the safety couses we can (good idea), we can log a ka-billion miles on multiple bikes over many years and sometimes stuff just happens.  Asi write this, there hasn't been any information about richard.  We only know he was awake after the accident and he was life-flighted to Tucson.

Life is so very precious and it seems a bit cliche to say we need to tell the people we love that we love them. I am grateful that on a sunny morning in Phoenix that one of the road buddies I got to hug before we headed off on the road to Las Cruses, was my friend, Agitator. My God's Tender Mercies watch over you until we meet again.

Bubblegum rides....Run Day Rancho to Phoenix

Alright, it isn't the roadname I would have chosen for myself, but the more I hear it called out by fellow riders, the more I like it. No; I don't chew gum let alone bubblegum (I used to..but the older I get, the more precious my fillings are to me!) It is my sparkling pink helmet that the Road Guards thought looked like a big wad of pink Bubblegum. So, the day we left Rancho and headed for Phoenix was a special day for me, Bubblegum.  I will tell you why a bit later..

John, aka..Crusty, and I were up early 4:45 am only to look outside and see the morning dark and raining!  UGH! But, the other riders in the hotel were full of good cheer and all I could say was, It's a"Bonney Day to Ride!"We staged our bikes in the 3rd Platoon and waited for the 5 minute call to ride.

Our first hydration stop of the day and I began to pull off the cold weather gear.

We love stopping for lunch in Blythe, CA. The town comes out in great support for the Vets and the Run. Their Jr. ROTC program is wonderful.  The members hold swords up forming a long arch for us to walk under as we enter the pavillion for lunch. they also participate in the presentations. This stop is a great way to start off the Run.

Never one to miss the food line...here I am!

John with a remarkable young Marine, Staff Sgt  Tim Connors.  He is the fully dressed-in-blues marine who stands at silent salue attention every year on the DC Mall during Rolling Thunder.  This year will be his 9th year. He was scholarshipped by the Run to go all the way with the group.  He was recently in the hospital to set a broken bone and while there, he contracted MRSA. The duffle bag on his shoulder carries his IV supplies that he plugs into shuts in his wrist.  He served in both Iraq and Afghanistan

I did really well today on Blue Girl.  No body aches or pains that can't be solved by a hot shower and Ben-Gay! John and I got split at the first fuel stop so I rode by a husband and wife on one of the most beautiful standard paint Harley's I've ever seen. Road conditions weren't the best; but we made it into Phoenix without incident.

As we approached our last fuel stop on Tonopah, AZ, I thought I recognized a face in the waving crowd welcoming us into the gas station. As I approached the group, I saw Diane, "Sweetness", wife of Duct Tape. She recognized my helmet and yelled, BUBBLEGUM!" i responded, "SWEETNESS". I was hoping they woulde both be at our hotel as they live in Phoenix -and they were. Duct Tape will always hold a soft spot in my heart as he was the Road Guard that officially gave me my road name.  He is doing the best he can since he was T-Boned by a driver running a red light-hitting him on his Goldwing. Seeing both of them at the hotel, giving them hugs and hearing how Duct Tape is doing in his recovery warmed my heart.

Sweetness and Duct Tape.

Being very tired, both John and I went to bed blogless.

The excietment is building...

Today the crowds of people remind me just how very special it is to be a part of this run.  Everyone I meet and talk to is happy to be here.  It's kinda like knowing that right now...at this very minute...everything you have done..been a part of...has brought you right here.

I wrote last year that there were so many things about the run that stood out in my mind; but mostly, it was the people.

One of the many heroes of the Run-Pastor Robbie Jones-Hydration Team leader.  It was a joy to be able to work with him helping with food and water for the participants.

One of our favorite people:  Richard, Agitator and John sharing a happy moment.

Me and "Jellybean" otherwise known as Mac ...actually...Dan MacGillvary.  He is one of the funniest guys I've ever met..talks a mile a minute and is always happy.

nd Palma listening to the rules of the road in the 7th Platoom meeting.  7th Platoon is reserved for riders on trikes and bikes pulling trailers.  Lee and Palma will be riding in the 7th with their yellow Wing and trailer.

Platoon leader has Lee and Palma's attention.

We ended the day with a good bar-be-que meal, singing and good conversation.  Now, it's time to pre-pack our bike and try to get a good night sleep.
Gonna be hard...

And this is why we are still married.....

My husband and I have come to a very strange way of "getting-ready-to-go-out-the-door-on-vacation-on-our-motorcycles-routine."  It works like this: I start to do something and John takes over.  In years gone by, his attempt at this would have had disasterous results.  Now, I just step back and let it go. I tell him thank you for helping (for I truly am grateful), and smile at him knowing that I am blessed to be married to a guy who wants to help.  Yup.  It's as simple as that.

So, the puttering and staging of our "stuff" continues as we countdown the day until we leave.  We are getting very close to that moment when we bungee down the last item, swing our leg over our faithful rides and turn the keys. When I turn the key, I will hear the well-known sound of the Harley engine with added pipes going GRRRRRR; John will not hear a thing when he turns the key...it's a smooth-gliding Goldwing.  I love both the sounds.  I appreciate the difference in engineering and the diverse cultural statements they both make. And, sorta like the sorta ride, I feel after 50 years of riding motorcycles that I can smile and walk comfortably between both cultural worlds without being all strange acting that I have to ride a specific bike in order to enjoy what I have come to love:  the open road on a motorcycle. Our grandson, Eli, my Magic The Gathering partner in playing the game, would say, I am like a Planeswalker Wizard moving between the Multiverses vanquishing the evilness ... but, I digress....

I'm honestly not looking forward to riding in the rain, but we have good gear:  Frog Toggs and Tourmaster waterproof boot covers and we have Gerbing heated gear to keep us toasty. We will be fine.

See the pelt 4th from the left?  It's the pretty silver one that now adorns my leather seat.  Comfy, will keep my teusch cool in the hot weather and warmish in the cold weater.  And this is why we are still married...

What?

On a typical NorthWet day, John eagerly went to the front porch and declared that my present had arrived!  "You bought a present FOR MOI?" says I.  "Yes, honey, and you will love it!" states John.  He brought in the box, tenderly put it on the island in the kitchen and then retreived a knife to open the box.  You can imagine my amazement when his arm reached in and pulled out a dead sheep hide about the size of Detroit. At this point he makes the fatal (Bwahahahahaha) comment which is now in the universe and cannot be retracted..EVER..."Honey, it's for your seat on the Goldwing!!" My arse is THAT big??  OK....I'm good with it.  But, I did give him the "Wife Look" which as every married couple knows is the look of death.

We walked into the garage and he began to extoll the virtues of teusch comfort. Then, the "Husband-Look" kinda like the deer in the headlights, came upon his face when he remembered I was riding my own bike. I now have a pretty silver buttpad for my blue girl.  And, that is why we are still married...Hugs, honey.

Renewing friendships...in the rain

Standing at the registration desk in the Hilton host hotel, I heard a familiar voice recognizable from recent phone calls and especially the prayers offered up on last year's run.  In a crowd of riders, walking toward me was Preacher...otherwise known as Richard Moore, the Southern Route Coordinator for this years run. the welcome hug and genuine smile warmed my heart with three words, 'Welcome back, Bubblegum!"

We unpacked the bikes, dumped the "stuff" in our room and went in search of Ray and Kay McDowell, Too Tall and too Small.,  Ray is on the Board of directors for the Run and has a myriad of duties and responsibilities and when we found him trying to hide in a corner by the pool (for who would want to be out there in the rain??), he put down the phone and there were hugs and smiles to chase away the gray skies.  I found Too Small standing at the registration line surrounded by the many riders waiting to register. Too Small is an "in-charge" person who seems to have unlimited energies and gets in and gets the job done.  She is the perfect RFTW Ambassador and indeed she is.

We renewed with Wes (Hailstone), Richard (Agitator), many of the Road Guards and Platoon leaders throughout the day as we walked the grounds gave and received "Welcome home" hugs and tried to stay warm in a very cold California wind.

We ended our day with Too Tall and Too Small at the new York Grill eating (when did I really believe I was vegetarian, hmmm????) the fatted cow.  The meal was scrumptious,but it was the conversation and the sharing of our friendship that made the evening so complete.

John and I sat in the hotel room totally satiated by the events that unfolded today and when we said our goodnights, we once again were reminded that our lives are full. We are rich beyond the measure of material wealth or things.  Our day started out with good friends Lee and Palma and new friend, Santa Ed and ended with Ray and Kay.  It just doesn't get any better than that. God has put people in our lives who, along with family, remind us that our existence is more than the sum of it's parts. So, so blessed.

On a scale of 1 to 10 - negative 1...

Redding, CA to Bakersfield, CA to Rancho Cucamonga, CA

Say it isn't so...cover your eyes- it's raining-it's pouring and we have to quit snoring and get going..in the rain.

John getting ready to uncover the bikes in Redding, CA.

If I had to rate the days of motorcycle riding as good or bad - then day 2 was BAD.  The day started out with a deluge - cold - and windy....and it was over 60+ miles before the rain started to let up. i felt like the Charlie Brown character, Pigpen, where the dust cloud follows him..the Raindrops were falling on our heads..at least the lyrics to that old song were happy!

Our rain gear kept us dry; that was good.  My heated gear kept me toasty...that is very good and our spirits stayed mjostly good until.....

TRAFFIC CAME TO A SCREECHING (HOW DO TIRES SCREECH IN THE RAIN?) HALT!

As quick as a wink, the tail lights on John's Wing flashed the very scary warning and every biker hates to see: IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE FREEWAY AND WE ARE ABOUT TO COME TO A DEAD STOP! Training and experience says to feather the brakes, check your mirrors and get ready to find a safe spot.  Luckily, the traffic all obeyed the laws of survival and we stopped without incident.  Phew!  But, the rules of riding have changed for me since I now ride a Harley...my blue girl starts to overheat in the long idling and very slow creeping. We quickly moved onto the right shoulder and rode it to the end of the jam.  Sadly, it was a very bad acciden. I had to remind myself that whoever was involved in the accident didn't get up in the morning with the intention of causing a traffic jam. As I rode by, I asked God to give His Tender Mercies on those involved.

300+ miles and my body started to feel the affects of tense riding conditions.  When I saw the 10 miles to our Bakersfield exit..my heart leaped and I pumped my arm in the air....and then: THE WING LIGHTS FLASHED THE SIGNAL...WE ARE ONCE AGAIN GOING TO COME TO A DEAD STOP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREEWAY! My brain went into alert mode and my blue girl sat down on her brakes HARD. checking my mirrors, I saw traffic slowing down and I breathed one of those long sighs that was full of words unspoken: dodged a bullet! Once again, I found an opening provided by a trucker and lead the guys to the shoulder where we rode out the jam and took our exit!

We rolled into Bakersfield at *:48pm...a long riding day, indeed.

Lee and Palma met us while we ate and after good conversation and planning our departure in the morning, we crashed!

As we were getting ready to leave, a man approached us and said we were living his Bucket List dream and he took this photo of us.

Lee, Palma, Santa Ed, Me and John.

Thr route John and Lee chose was teriffic!  I thought of the man who took our photo while I opened the throttle on the Blue and let her fly through the mountain sweeps.  I thought about the blessings we have in our lives, that even though we aren't yet retired, that we are with His rich blessings, heatlhy, strong and able to share riding with good friends who enrich our lives when I see the joy of the road on their faces.

Sorta Run Day 1 May 14 Home to Redding, CA

I'd like to report that our day was full of wonderful little happenings and wonderous things we saw-but, that would be a big fat lie. When you need to get somewhere fast..you take the freeways.  I-5 is just ugly. The only things that make it tolerable are some of the distant vistas, like Mt.Shasta that truly take your breath away.

We left our home in the forest on the mountain at 7:30am. Eli had gotten up to tell us goodbye and to have a good time-I sent him to snuggle with his dad, Tyler.  Lizzi can sleep through a hurricane and did not stir when Eli said, "Hi Grandma" at pecicely 6:05am.  By the time we finished the last few details, Tyler was up to say goodbye and to take photos.  he declared that, "The 4,000+ mile trip begins with a short drive down our driveway."

Bikes ready to roll...well, at least they are pointed in the right direction!

We met one of John's Patriot Guard riders, Ed at Fred Meyer on Mill Plain, gassed the bikes and headed out under cool and cloudy skies.  400+ miles to go.

Good Grief!  Where is summer?  I detest all these bulkly clothes...but admit to loving being wartm!

Bubblegum helmet ready to go!

And, what would our departure be without the funniest son in the world? Tyler!

Mt.Shasta...from a distance along I-5

The last roadsign I saw said, Weed 17 miles/Redding 94.  we've gone just a little over 300 miles and I felt pretty good.  My back, shoulders and legs are doing great...why...I think I can do 500 a day...and then the wind picked up and it blew and blew and we pulled over at the Weed reststop.  John knows I need to decompress after holding up a bike when the wind comes a swirling.  Indeed; he is right.

Decompressing in the cold wind with my little traveling buddy!

Ed took the time to make a phone call before we set out for the last 70 miles into Redding.

All in all, it was a 8 riding day.  I would have given it a 9 if the wind wouldn't have come up and a 10 if the sun would have been just a bit more obvious.

Bakersfield is our next destination and I'm excited to ride into warmer climate and ditch the bulky stuff.  As I sit in the hotel room, the phoone rang:  My brother, Mario just wanting to check in and see how we are doing.  I had to make a confession to him about my bike.  I had to tell him that it is probably the best bike I've ridden and I am having to eat humble pie and take back all the rotten things I've ever said about riding a Harley.  I said, "Bro...she's looking for more road when I'm at 75mph and justs squats down and powers forward."  Like the very special brother he is...he said, "You are my sister and I love you; but I told you so!"  I have always loved pie..even humble pie!  Tomorrow brings another day...Let's Ride!