California 09 - Day six

Me "Ya know, it's really not too bad out there."
Ed "Looks cold."
Me "Nah, it looks worse than it is."

I am a bit optimistic when I've had a good night's sleep, I will admit that. I'd woken up before the alarm feeling rested for once. A quick shower and I was prowling the parking lot in a pair of shorts. Pure momentum on my part as a second trip outdoors revealed a slightly less warm reality. Ok, so it was 35 degrees, at least the winds were gone.

At some point during the very cold and windy night, this bike arrived. Made us laugh imagining the gritty, aged rider in the thin leather jacket he'd been riding in since 1978.


The night prior, our route planning amounted to checking to see if the northern routes through Yosemite were open. We'd hoped to ride north, then west eventually separating with Ed heading back to LA and me to San Francisco. But, since all of those routes were closed due to snow, it was back down 395 and then west on 178 for me and south on 14 for Ed.
Standing in the parking lot, considering the temps for the morning, it was Ed that convinced me to do some parking lot mods and get my Gerbings some reliable power.
Thanks! Oh, the day was so much better with a little heat in my jacket.
While riding south from Lone Pines, we had a chance to indulge our weakness for silly roadside attractions.
Nitro girl score!


Funny little playground out back and two very oversized kids



A few miles down the road and it was time for a goodbyes. Once again, a great ride with a good friend. No effort, no drama just good moto fun. Thanks Ed
Two days of riding had passed quickly, as they always do and I was back on my own.
Riding west on 178, the winds abated, my heated liner heating, I found my pace moving back into the fun zone. I should have stopped to take this picture just a bit further down the road where the Joshua trees completely covered the desert.

They are remarkable in person...
The other remarkable part of this day is how many really great roads I managed to ride. 178 was yet another California roller coaster, elevation changes, switch backs, sweepers...seriously, it's as though the roads were designed by a motorcyclist.





There are not many pictures from the rest of my last day riding. As I left the mountains of behind me and rode into Bakersfield, it looked as though I'd need the slab to make time...6 pm was looming and I had a fair amount of ground to cover. After a quick shopping to secure some fresh boxers and socks, I forged ahead on 99 to 46 to 5. Ugh. The winds found me again as I fought my way north. By mid-day it was starting to feel like the fun was over. My mind drifted back to work and the things I needed to get done and the list of projects unfinished at home... no, no, no, this was not how I wanted to spend my last afternoon on the bike. Remembering that my flight was now less than 24 hours away, I decided to pull off at the next exit and check into my flight. Standing in a wind blown parking lot, laptop open on the seat of the bike, I made the decision to have a little more fun before the day came to an end. Turns out, I had picked exactly the right exit. 198 looked like a good ride towards Coalinga and I could work a nice route from there through Hollister, saving me from more interstate highway pain. I would wind up riding a bit of 25 that I'd ridden earlier in the week but it was a dandy bit of asphalt the first time so no worries there. I just needed to keep the pace up and I felt sure I could make it to Dubbelju by 6.
Oh, am I glad I made the decision to take that route. Riding away from 5 on 198, the winds settled down, the sun shone and I rode. Hard and fast with little traffic, I made time to Coalinga and had a fantastic time doing it. At this point in the ride report, I am out of adjectives to describe the roads. I will simply say the trip from 5 to Hollister was better than I had hoped for. Arriving at the edge of town, I stopped for this pic and then peeked around the downtown area.

Time growing short, I couldn't spend any time playing tourist. Instead, I bought some gas and headed to San Francisco. The Bay Bridge was under repair so naturally, I'd be headed into the city during rush hour with an extra bit o' joy. Good thing lane splitting is so much fun. I pulled into Dubbelju with exactly 8 minutes to spare.

California 09 - Day five

I woke up on Wednesday early, even though we'd been out pretty late the night before. There's just something about a day on two wheels that makes getting out of bed so much easier. It's not that I was in a hurry, I was just up and ready. I loaded my rented pony as Ed collected a few things he'd need for an overnight. Milling around his garage, it would have been easy for me to drift into tinkering...I'd really wanted to have a closer look at the Ruckus and there are a couple of older dirt bikes and...
I knew I just needed to look away. Motorcycles have a way of distracting me and I was here to ride.
After a quick errand to free up Ed's schedule we headed north out of Los Angeles. Without much discussion, the plan seemed set, Death Valley, then north, grab a room, ride a bit of Yosemite and go our separate ways. I needed to be back in San Francisco by 6pm Thursday and Ed had to return to his day to day in LA.


It took very little time for the pleasant temps and gentle breezes to become strong winds and 45 degrees.

It is a funny thing, this desire not to hold up the other guy on a ride. Independently, we were freezing our asses off but neither wanted to slow the train down. Finally, not knowing Ed was uncomfortable, I decided I needed to put the liner in my jacket...and I mean NEEDED. Turns out, he was in the same boat. Motorcyclists need some sort of universal "I am cold, pull over before I get hypothermia" hand signal.
As I pulled the Gerbings liner from my bags, I wondered why I'd resisted just stripping the plug off and running a wire right to the battery, you know, while I was standing in Ed's garage. I try very hard to resist the urge to fiddle with things while on a ride, but this was a simple deal. Ah well, perhaps with the bike at full chat, the computer will permit the couple of amps needed to preserve me from freezing. Once the Canbus shuts the outlet down, the only way to get power back is to restart the bike. I still wanted power for my GPS so if I was not going to get heat, I'd need to power cycle the bike. Once again, not wanting to hold up the train, I figured I'd just do it in traffic.
I let Ed know that I intended to experiment so if he saw me shut the bike off while we were on the freeway, not to worry. Yeah, I know, genius move. The bad news, still no heat. The good news, I did not crash while restarting the bike on the move.

A minor mechanical delay is one of those things you can count on experiencing if you spend enough time on riding. I know there is no "perfect" spot for thing to go wrong but you just have to laugh at the time and place these things seem to strike.

Uphill, in traffic and the sidestand switch decided to flake out. Since the switch controls the ignition, it was a bit more than an annoying light flickering on the dash. Right here, I could easily insert a "ha, how 'bout those unreliable Italian bikes" comment but, this Aprilia has big miles on it, miles accumulated by riding all manner of conditions. Funny, I don't really mind this sort of thing, it just comes with the territory. Pack a few simple tools, some zip ties and tape and you can usually work things out.
A few minutes effort had Ed's bike off under it's own power, and we were enjoying the high winds buffeting us as we made our way north on the slab. Nothing like riding sideways for a few hours to keep life exciting.
At long last, we reached the exit for Baker, CA and the end of our interstate route. Lunch, fuel and a quick look at the California highway dept website and we were ready to do a little moto-sight seeing.

Behold, the giant thermometer. This was the warmest we'd be for most of the day.


No, we did not stay here. Someone needs to track down the story on this one.

Route 127, while not the best road I'd ridden in California, was a welcome change of pace from the monotony of the interstate. A quick 60 miles had us in position to make a choice of routes through Death Valley.

I'd grabbed one of those goofy travel books for California....and here I am reading it in earnest for the first time. 178 seemed to be the way to go so away we went.
We found the sign so clearly this was the way to go :D

I'd explain this pose, if I could....

As we entered the park, I could not help but smile. Riding here was 80 percent whim on my part, something I'd wanted to see as an adult and here we were, two guys on motorcycles fighting wind gusts and sands just so I could take a look around. This picture does little to illustrate the winds and blowing sands we were riding in.


It was alternately, a beautiful, sunny day and a total PIA windy, chilly day as we wove our way in and out of the mountains that served to protect us from the wall of winds and sand. Death Valley is a lunar landscape with a narrow strip of asphalt running through it. On hot days, I can imagine the stifling nature of the high rock walls but on this day they provided a welcome respite from mother nature.

At one point, as the winds blew hard and I literally felt sand pushing past the seal on my faceshield, Ed pulled over, wondering aloud if we should reconsider our plans. A few quick words later, we were back on our way. We'd never actually said, "oh hell no, let's keep going" but somehow we both knew. Later, when Ed would ask me if I'd have kept going were I alone, I had to smile. Clearly, he was concerned about me and my desire to ride in those conditions. Laughing, I told him I never turn back. Kindred spirits we are, no question about it.

Leading the train for a bit, I chose to stop at one of the "tourist" locations. This part of my trip was a sightseeing sort of thing, so why not?

Welcome to Badwater Basin, 280 feet below sea level



George approves....

What was so remarkable about this spot was how serene and quiet it was here. Warm, sunny, gentle breeze.... like we'd stepped into another place and time.
Riding out of the parking area, it took no time at all to return to the windy, chilly day we'd left just a few miles ago. From here, it was a long ride to the top of Death Valley and ultimately the road to a room for the night. Knowing we were running short on daylight, we pushed on, making decent time given the conditions. After fueling up, we motored on to Stovepipe Wells. I have no preset list of things I buy on a trip but I do like to find a little something to bring back for my daughter and as my friend Rachel is quick to point out, post cards are always the best pictures you can get. A cream soda, trinkets and a Death Valley sticker procured, we spent a minute laughing about the day and the trip ahead. We were at least 80 miles from a clean room and a bed, the sun was setting, my heated liner was inop and the winds were far from dying down. My reaction? I think I giggled.

That ain't fog in the background.



Spurred on our way by a shop employee shooing us off the sidewalk of the general store, we rode north into the twilight. It was a beautiful ride and had I been more settled on the bike, it would have been perfect. After a day of buffeting winds, it was hard to relax and enjoy the twisting roads out of the park. Still, it was awesome.





From here, it was a twisting ride in the dark to Rt 395 and the promise of dinner and a bed.
As an aside, if you stop and ask my opinion about going left or right, understand you should likely select the opposite of what I pick. After a minor detour and an extra 20 miles of cold, blowing ride, we arrived in Lone Pines, CA. A room secured at the Dow Villa Motel, Ed kindly bought me dinner and a glass of wine.
Back at the motel, we spent a few minutes looking at the day's pictures and routes for the next day. It took no time for sleep to find us both.
450 miles of wacky fun behind us, we drifted off, me dreaming of my last day riding California.

The Road Goes On Forever

Oh, I wish it would at least.

We take a brief intermission from our California ride report to play along with Fuzzy @
http://www.fuzzygalore.com/

This was a nice ride, on a great day in central PA, a ride I took to honor two fallen riders. For them, the road is now eternal.

California 09 - Day four

Before I get on with day four, one side note. There is only one restaurant open in San Luis Obispo on a Monday night. It's the Mexican place right across the street from the Holiday Inn. Don't bother walking all the way downtown, getting a wicked charlie horse on the trip down, only to hobble your way back to the Mexican joint 75 meters from your hotel. Just sayin'

I woke up early on Tuesday, feeling pretty great. Relaxed and ready for the day. Frankly, I am not sure I could have told you it was Tuesday, but I was in a good mood and ready for the day's ride. After a quick 5 on the treadmill in the exercise room ( still nursing that charlie horse ) I loaded the bike and filled the tank. Sitting in the parking lot, looking at the map, I had a choice to make. Short ride or long? I had some nice suggestions for a route that started in Atascadero but taking that directly would have me into L.A. pretty early. The night before, I'd gotten the word that high winds were predicted for the next few days. I HATE riding in high winds. I also hate to waste an opportunity to ride a full day. I decided not to over think it, I'd ride the route for a bit and if the winds didn't show, I'd find a detour. If they did, I'd just keep riding south.

After a quick trip north, I headed east on 41. For fear readers of this ride report will tire of hearing how great the roads were, here's a pic of a windmill from the fine folks at the Aermotor Company of Chicago, Illinois.

Ok, so the road really was awesome. 41 to Webster Rd. to 58 all great stuff varying from tight twisties to broad sweepers to high speed straights through the desert to technical mountain passes into California oil country.





Oil country does not have much to recommend it from the standard tourist perspective but I am fascinated by the industry and how it shaped our society. Last year, we swept through Taft, CA stopping just long enough for gasoline. This year, I wanted to stop and tour the West Kern Oil Museum. Of course, this year, it's not open on a Tuesday. I'd looked at the website the night before so I knew my Chuck Brown fate before I arrived but I still stopped to peek through the fence.

http://www.westkern-oilmuseum.org/

One of these days, I will see the inside of that damn museum.

Once I'd grabbed a few shots through the fence, it was time to head out of Taft and onto the rest of my 'fun' route to 5. The winds had begun before I got into town so it seemed prudent to keep moving. 33 to 166 to Cerro Noroeste Rd. As I climbed out of the valley on Cerro Noroeste, the temps began to fall and the wind began to blow in earnest. At first, this was yet another fantastic bit of California riding but as the temps dropped, I decided it was time to break out the heated gear. In preparation for this trip, I'd built a little power harness that plugged into the factory BMW outlet. This harness would power my GPS and Gerbings with minimal effort or installation. I'd tested it thoroughly on my own bike so I knew it was good when I left. What I did not count on was the Canbus control on the outlet of new BMW's. The minute I turned on the Gerbings, the outlet powered right off. Nice. Clearly the computer was a goddamn pessimist. I'd done the math, I was not drawing that much current.
Undeterred, I zipped my jacket up and got back to riding.
For about a minute. I rounded a blind right hand corner and rode right into a minefield. Ok, a corner painted with softball sized rocks. After inhaling half the seat with my ass, I managed to scrub speed and navigate through the asteroid field ahead. Unfortunately, the scene would repeat itself over and over for the next few miles. Suddenly, the ride was seeming less like fun and more like work. Temps dropping, winds increasing and the road proving unpredictable, my speeds drifted down to tractor category. Eventually, the road conditions improved but the winds and temps persisted. Ah well, it ain't all sunshine and palm trees.


Chilly...though, I've seen much worse. A working Gerbings would have been nice....a computer controlled power outlet is an unneeded use of technology, like those stupid, wildly unreliable motion detecting paper towel dispensers.

I rode the rest of the road down to 5, knowing that if I just relaxed, it would be a nice ride. The strip of asphalt worked its way through pines and ponds, beautiful route really. Too bad I was starting to let the weather steal my joy ;)
Stopping for a cup of coffee and a sandwich at the Flying J, I decided it was time to motor south to L.A. I hate the slab but it had to be done. As if to say "get on with it," the wind blew half of my sandwich to the ground. Well, ok then.

Riding south and into lower elevations, the temps moderated thought the winds remained. I made good time getting into the city. Too good, it was mid-afternoon and my friend Ed worked till 7. We'd planned to meet for dinner after he got off so I had some time to kill. I decided to play tourist. As many times as I'd been to L.A. I had never been to the Santa Monica pier. Well, why not.


It took me about 30 seconds to take this picture, it took the cop on the pier about 45 seconds to tell me to move the hell along. Yeesh.
After escaping the wrath of the boys in blue, I found a place to park and shed a few layers. A sent Ed a quick text to let him know I was in town. During our short exchange, he suggested I might want to visit the Getty Museum since I was nearby. Score! I'd wanted to go and hadn't put two and two together.
Naturally, it was getting to be that time in the afternoon when traffic packs all the major routes. Lane splitting to the rescue. Turns out, I LOVE filtering...oh how I wish we could split at home.
In no time, I was sitting on the tram, enjoying the ride up the hill from the parking garage where motorcycles park free. How cool is that?
Arriving at the top of the hill, I was greeted by a marvelous bit of architecture.



One of the fine folks on staff, noticing my riding gear, mentioned the coat check just inside the door. Spare yourself the trouble of carrying that helmet around, get comfortable and enjoy yourself....thanks, don't mind if I do.
In another case of anti-planning working to my benefit, the Getty was featuring the work of Irving Penn, a photographer whose work I'd long been interested in. I spent a couple hours taking it all in.

The day was shaping up to be an interesting one. Rocks and wilderness to 13th century paintings and mid 2oth century photography. Kinda cool..

I finished my visit just in time to go play in prime rush hour traffic. I know it sounds crazy but I enjoyed the ride. Turns out there is a lot of unused asphalt out there and motorcyclists get to use it in California.
I arrived at the restaurant just a few minutes early. In what seemed like no time at all, Ed pulled up on his Uber Ruckus. We dined on fish tacos and talked all manner of nonsense. After dinner, I got the honor of tooling to Ed's place on the Ruck. I have not laughed out loud in my helmet like that in some time. The Ruckus starts life with a 50cc heart. Ed's is now sporting 250 along with a list of suspension and appearance mods that make it truly one of a kind. It's the kind of goofy fun that I find completely appealing. It's far too fast for it's own good and encourages silly behavior. I did my best not to get carried away....


We parked the two wheeled machines for the night and caught up with another friend who's working in L.A. right now. A few drinks and conversation was a great way to end yet another good day on the road.

California 09 - Day three

Day three really starts out the night before in Seaside. After a great day of riding, I parked for the night at the Holiday Inn Express. I'd avoided my computer for the previous nights but I was in need of a plan for the next day so I sat down and fired up Mapsource. Looking at routes for the next day led to scouting for things to see which combined with trying to catch up on emails and voice messages, led to overload. Better find something to eat. After a quick sandwich, I wandered down to the local quick mart to grab a pen as I'd inadvertently shipped my pens and highlighters home with my suitcase full of business clothes and paperwork.

Didn't seem like a big deal until I discovered they had no pens to sell. Really??

The nice ladies at the Shell in Seaside were nice enough to give me a pen from behind the counter. I really wanted a highlighter but beggars can't be too picky.
Back in my room, I looked over the maps, considered suggested routes laid out by Wolfgang from Dubbelju and a few things I'd cribbed from Roadrunner magazine. I pieced something suitable together and augered into the pillow for the night.

The next morning broke clear and cool, with a mist lingering over the ocean. I packed the bike and promptly locked myself out of the room. Doh! Fortunately, I had my wallet with me so a replacement key at the front counter was not a hassle.

Before I headed down the coast, I decided to grab a quick shot of the ocean from Seaside.

See the cars in the mirror? Every one of them had someone sleeping in it. There were about six cars in the parking lot, all seemingly serving as home to one or more people. A good reminder it ain't all sunshine and palm trees.
The plan I'd crafted the night before had me riding a bit down the coast and then heading inland. I'd ridden a long section of 1 in 08 with my friends the Fuzzmops so I was not planning a "redo." What I did not plan for was a perfect day for a ride. Sunny skies, moderate temps, light traffic. On top of that, I was feeling very comfortable on the bike, something I really could not say was the case with the bike I rented last year. Predictably, I rode much further south than I'd planned. It was fantastic, with only a few interruptions to pass some cars or thread through a construction zone. I had to force myself to stop and take a picture or two. Hey, I had LOTS from last year.




It's hard to describe how perfect the ride down the coast was. One of the things I like about riding a twisting road is finding a pace, a rhythm that lets you feel the bike work and gives you that great sensation of speed. If I ride too slowly, my mind drifts and all the things I am hoping to take a break from seep back in. That wasn't a problem here. One of the great things about the R1200R is it's nimble handling and great power delivery. Ideal for a day like that on a road like this.



As I worked my way south, I decided to take the opportunity to see Hearst Castle. Hey, I was this far down the coast, why not? Now, my total data intake on this attraction, prior to this trip, was an article from a motorcycle magazine circa 1967. No, really.. It was a story about a couple from LA that modded an old BMW for travel and headed up the coast. In the article, they rode right up to the place and had a look around. My plan, if you could call it that, was to ride up to the place, and have a look around.
Um, no. If you've been recently, you are chuckling at this point as you know what I did not. There is a visitor's center at the bottom of the hill. You buy a ticket, you wait in line, you ride a bus to the top of the hill and then you get a tour. Eleven seconds after riding into the parking lot, I decided my plans did not include the time all that would take. So, here's what I saw instead.



Close enough. Besides, the ride was the thing, remember?
Having had my tourist moment, I rode a bit further south to reassess my plan and buy some petrol. Gas station sandwich in one hand, map in the other, I worked out the rest of my day's ride. What I was beginning to refer to as my 'anti-plan' was serving me just fine, thanks very much.
I motored inland across 46 and north on 101 just long enough to connect with Indian Valley Rd. My plan was to see one authentic Spanish mission and then head north to Pinnacles National Monument.

Ummm, yeah. Shades of Drakes Well circa 2007 anyone?
http://dudeexmachina.blogspot.com/2007/10/so-whadda-ya-know.html



Ok, so the ride's the thing, the ride's the thing, the ride's the thing....
The good news was Indian Valley Rd., Peach Tree Rd. and Airline Hwy. Fan-freaking-tastic.

As for Pinnacles National Monument, well, it's probably better if you have time to go hike the place but I did meet a nice chap riding back to San Francisco from LA. He'd been there for a side car rally of some sort but was riding a Tiger, sans side hack. We talked bikes for a bit and I was back on my way.



My plan for the evening was to wind up near Atascadero. I had a route suggested for part of the ride into LA and it began in that vicinity. I rode west to King City for gas and called ahead for a room. Discovering that there was some sort of power outage affecting a large block of the city, precisely where the majority of the hotels in town were located, I called a bit south and got a room in San Luis Obispo. A quick look at the map suggested a few of the 'G' routes that run south and parallel 101 might be a nice ride. Once again, minimal planning worked in my favor and the rest of the day's ride was a nice mix of curves and scenery.



All in all, a really pleasant 460 mile day.

California 09 - Day two

After the first day in California, I could have gotten on a plane satisfied the ride had been worth the trip. It was that good a day.

Day two started with breakfast ( no pictures :P ) and a little talk of the ride ahead. The weather folks were predicting another perfect day with sunny skies and moderate temps..what more could we ask for?

We rode out of El Cerrito, through a local park which had the double benefit of a kickass mountain road and this view of the bay. Again, wow...

Since I'd planned to wind up somewhere along the coast Sunday evening, Cherie and I planned to ride for about half of Sunday and then go our separate ways. Keeping that in mind, we fired the bikes up and got moving. Heading south, we rode another group of perfect motorcycling roads with more fantastic vistas.

Stopping briefly for gas in San Jose, we decided we could afford a few more hours to ride a loop east and north. Taking Mt. Hamilton Rd. to the Lick Observatory we followed the contour of rock faces, working our way higher towards the blue, nearly cloudless sky.









After taking in the sights from the top of the mountain we headed back down, pausing briefly where a Harley had blown a corner and wound up off the road. The rider and his friends signaling that he was alright, we enjoyed the series of switchbacks that led down into the valley. Riding north on Mines Rd, headed for Livermore, we made one last stop for the day. A late lunch was a great way to visit just a bit longer, knowing soon we'd part company, me heading south and Cherie headed back to the bay. If you're in the area, The Junction is a great place for lunch, popular with rider of all types from the area.
After lunch, we made the most of the remaining miles of good road, spinning the bikes through corner after corner, finishing off the ride the right way :D

After two days of great riding, we said our goodbyes in Livermore and I headed down a couple of interstates to connect with 101, my destination Seaside, CA.

I really have to thank Cherie for getting this trip off to a great start. We rode for nearly two days and not once did I wish the road were better, there were less traffic or I was riding with someone else. Just a fantastic two days on two wheels.

California 09 - Day one

Once I'd gotten to San Francisco, the reality of six day to ride really hit home. In a good way... after a nice night spent in town, I loaded up my rental and got ready to head out. Cherie had arranged to have the weekend off which meant we had the next two days for her to show me some of the best roads in the bay area. We'd been chatting for a year about getting together for a ride and this would be our chance.

We headed north out of the city on highway 101 making quick work of the short section of highway we'd need to reach the "good stuff."

After a quick stop to fuel Cherie's FZ1 and grab some water, we motored onto Lucas Valley Rd. It quickly became clear to me that we were going to have a great day. We fell into a nice rhythm as the road became a series of left, right, up and down. The sort of road every motorcyclist dreams of.

I always struggle with the balance between riding a ride, and taking pics to remember it with. Too many stops and you kill the fun, too few and later you regret not having photos of a great time. On this trip, I tried to make it as much about enjoying the ride as possible with enough stops to get a flavor of things. Honestly, for the first part of the day, I was having too good a time to stop.

My first picture of this trip is really unremarkable. The second and third not much better but here's one anyway.

We weaved our way north, riding just inland of the ocean on roads blissfully free of traffic. The curves simply seemed to get better and better. I was quickly losing track of time when we arrived in Occidental, CA. Cherie suggested we stop for a late breakfast which turned out to be a great idea.

Yum!

I rarely eat more than a simple packet of peanuts when riding solo but I can be persuaded to change my habits from time to time.

Back on the road, our travels took us along the oceanfront for my first good glimpse of the Pacific Ocean on this trip. It felt great to look out at the water knowing I'd be seeing more of it as the week progressed.

Back on the road, Cherie showed me more great California asphalt. it's pretty hard to overstate how great the riding was that day. One great road after another with little traffic and great views. I've had great days on two wheels but this just kept getting better.

Motoring east, the road continued to impress. The weather was perfect as we worked our way south through rural areas, wine country and even places where we'd have had creek crossings had the water been higher.


As the sun started to settle behind the mountains, we rode into the East Bay area to store the bikes for the night. As we filtered through freeway traffic in the dark, I could not help reflecting on what had been a perfect day on two wheels. 359 miles of great roads with a good friend, nothing could have felt better or more natural.