Sunday, Sunday ... time to hit the road, Jack

Up and at ‘em, Sunday, July 26.  I’d done some packing the night before, but it’s never enough.  So, I finished up, packed up and was ready to giddy up.

Today I was leaving Jaz behind in California and heading to Nevada to visit some friends and spend the night.  The husband, Kirk, had met Jaz and me for lunch a few days ago, but this time I’d spend the night and also get to visit with his wife, Eloise. 

Jaz and I got on the road about 8:30 a.m.  It was a mild form of combat riding today, with lots of lanes, but not the traffic we’d encountered when we’d come into the city the previous Thursday.  Made this ride a cakewalk.  We crossed the San Mateo Bridge this time, up and down and then onto a causeway.  The only thing that would have made it better was for it to be steel grate. I could see other bridges in the distance to my right and left.  I didn’t know if we had crossed one of those coming into town, or another. 

She took me to a Black Bear Diner in Hayward.  I’d never been to one.  They have a fabulous breakfast and some of the best bacon ever.  They have bear paws and carved wooden bears everywhere.  It’s a great place to eat.

Lots of bear things.  Loved it.

After we took off, she got me on Interstate 580, heading in the right direction before she took an exit and headed back to the house. It felt strange to be riding by myself after we’d just spent a month traveling together.  It happens every time I separate from someone I’m riding with (yes you, too, Biker Bill). I shed a tear and just kept going, concentrating on the mission ahead … get out of the city, get out of California.  It’s too many people with all of these lanes, it’s treacherous riding, crowded, but I got out alive.  I was grateful it was a Sunday and not as crowded as usual.  It took a couple of hours to go from a five-or-six-lane highway to get down to a two-lane.  But I did it, and didn’t even have to take a parking lot tour or turn around anywhere. 

I ended up on 108 and 120, riding through Sonora Pass.  More hairpins, corners, but a different pass today.  It was pleasant as there was no traffic going my way, and not too much going the other.  I finally hit some wind at about the 8,000-foot level as I headed to the top that is 9,000 feet.  Nothing too bad, but it still makes things a bit squirrelly. 

Sure is some beautiful countryside up here in the mountains.

 In always looking for oddities, one found me at about the 8,000-foot level, two skate boarders riding their boards down the incline.  Wow.  I wouldn’t be doing that.  There’s even less between them and the road or a cage than there is for me on a motorcycle.

It’s beautiful country and I once again was riding through the Stanislaus and Toiyabe National forests.  There was no sign of the wild fire here that we’d seen going through the other pass.  The cliffs rise to one side and drop off on the other.  There were big rocks, some creeks and the huge trees smelled wonderful.

Look what I found up in the mountains, Biker Bill.  U.S. Marines mountain warfare training.

 A fawn ran out into the road in front of me.  I slowed way down as she was acting funny.  She was tiny, not even 24-inches in height.  She was prancing and dancing, pirouetting around on the pavement like a ballerina with her own version of Bambi music playing in her little deer brain.  Up and down, backward and forward, around and around.  It made me think she’d only had her little hooves on grass or rock, never on pavement before the way she was behaving.  I didn’t see the mama, but the little one finally made her way off to the side of the road.

I saw these bags in a field.  I don't know what was in them.  Potatoes?  Onions?  I didn't want to trespass to have a look see.

I passed this pretty little school.  Wellington School, 1898.  Kirk later told me it had recently been moved to this location from the other side of the highway.

 got to Yerington and called Kirk.  I found my way toward the road I needed to turn on and I saw in the distance, something bright and shiny.  It looked like a motorcycle, and I knew Kirk was coming to meet me.  I waved, knowing it was him.  He led me on the road back to their place.  On the way we saw two fawns, older than the one I’d seen earlier today.  These were trying to get away and we went very slowly as they were disturbed and quite nervous trying to get away from us.  Kirk figured he’d spooked the mom earlier when he’d come out.  The youngsters ran back and forth, but we finally got by them without them doing damage to themselves on the fence.

Kirk, Eloise and I visited for a bit and Kirk showed me to the bungalow where I’d be staying.  It’s the old farmhouse that was on the property when they bought it.  They built a new house and remodeled this one for guests, and for their motorcycles.  Last time I was here they were staying in a fifth-wheel and this building was where Kirk worked on bikes.  What a difference.  It’s magnificent, and it doesn’t hurt that I can go into the other room and see their Indians.  Eloise has a new one, a 2014, and it’s luxurious.  It’s got every bell and whistle and is beautiful to look at. 

Hers is the big, black and beautiful one.

A friend of theirs I’d met when I’d been down another time, Sam, came over to visit.  He’s also going to Sturgis but our paths most likely won’t cross while traveling as he’s going in other directions with other folks.  It was nice visiting, and maybe I’ll see him in Sturgis.

Eloise made buffalo burgers.  They’re always yummy, and dinner was perfect.  She and I, and their little Boston Terrier, Mugs, went for a walk.  What a character he is.  He tells his mama when it’s time for his walk and she gives him little treats along the way.  He sits very pretty for them.

When we returned, Kirk asked if I played Mexican Train, a domino game.  Yep.  I’ve played a couple of times.  So we played.  What fun.  I so enjoy those types of games and don’t do it often enough. 

The bungalow. 

Then it was time to say goodnight and I headed to the bungalow.  I have the whole thing to myself.