Back home

It was a chilly ride from Eureka to Austin, Nevada on US 50 this morning (Saturday, August 31) with a hint of rain in the air. By Austin we could see haze from the forest fires in Yosemite, and as we went farther west we could smell the smoke mixed in with the delightful smell of sage that always seems stronger when there's been a shower - we also had a tiny sprinkle or two, but from the puddles it looked as though it may have rained overnight.

Windmills along US 50 in Nevada.

 The day became warmer, and by the time we reached Fallon it was hot. In Fallon I saw a man dressed in a devil suit walking purposefully down the sidewalk - a sure sign that we were getting closer to California. We got on I-80 in Fernley and rode that through Reno and into California. We hit our first traffic jam in Reno when we exited for lunch and fuel - there was a street festival going on - so we quickly got back on I-80 and rode another 10 miles to a quieter service area near a casino.

In California we stopped at Ikeda's in Auburn for a couple of frozen pies, which I managed to fit on my bike with a little rearranging. We also stopped at A&S BMW in Roseville, where John bought and fitted a set of highway pegs. All during the trip John said his bike would be perfect if he just had some highway pegs, and now with 100 miles to home he had them.

This /2 BMW from the 1960's looks like a daily rider for one of the A&S shop workers.

I waved good-bye to John at the Corte Madera exit off 101 and then I stopped in Sausalito to see Vanya and Linda and Peter, who had spent the day in Sonoma. Vanya fixed a delicious salmon dinner for us, and then I was back on the bike for the short hop over the Golden Gate Bridge and into San Francisco, where it was cold, foggy, and windy - normal August evening weather.

Carol and Nikki and the cats greeted me, some more warmly than others, and I began making a mental list of all the things that need doing in the next few days, beginning with a good cleaning of the bike.

The trip, all 10,000 miles and 33 days, couldn't have gone better. We had a minimal amount of rain, no breakdowns, no close calls with animals or vehicles, and we saw some beautiful country and rode on interesting roads. We visited family and friends, and at almost every stop we had a conversation with someone who once had a bike, or thought about getting a bike, or was just interested in where we were from and where we were going. We also met quite a few people on bikes, and those conversations tended to be longer - roads we'd been on, places we'd seen, how the bikes were doing. Being on a motorcycle seems to attract friendly people and draw them out. The colors seem brighter through a helmet visor, the smells more vivid (especially the feed lots!) from the saddle of a bike, and I'm thinking about next year's trip(s).

Fortunately, flat tires on a motorcycle are no longer the common occurrence they once were. (Taken at a gas station in Arizona on the 1972 trip with Dick Bouck.)