June 12

Just after going to bed a very light rain began to fall and it kept up all night.  It was hardly any rain but a tent makes it seem like much more than it is.  It never gets dark this far north.  At midnight it is just getting to dusk and the sun returns before 5am.  I was up at 4am and decided to get up and get going.  The rain was more like a little spittle and it sort of stopped.  We packed up and were gone at 5:30.  We rode about 50 miles to Jake’s Corner where Peter needed fuel but it was about 6:30 and the fuel station opened at 7am.  Peter was going to Skagway from here so we separated and I proceeded to Whitehorse.

It was about 45 degrees, I had no coffee in me, was hungry, and as a result got very cold.  By the time I got to Whitehorse I cold to the bone very tired.  I found a restaurant and went in for breakfast.  I was pretty wiped ad looked on Expedia for a room.  As I warmed up I studied the situation and thought I should just get to Dawson, the heart of the Yukon gold rush and one of my primary destinations.  I looked at the weather for Carmacks, 100 miles distant; rain.  Well shit, maybe I should stay here.  As the coffee warmed me and the food gave me energy I decided to get to Dawson.

I finished breakfast and fueled up.  At the gas station I met Moe and we agreed to ride together after I got some silicon to seal up my boot.  Are signals got crossed and Moe was nowhere so I hit the road.  I was feeling good, warm, full and the music was playing in my helmet speakers.  The weather was overcast but no rain and the country i beautiful.

At one point The Proclaimers ‘I’m Gonna Be’ came into my helmet and it jolted me into realizing how much I miss Sandy.  The song is about a man determined to get back home.  I am not in the get back home phase of the trip but it made me realize how nice it will be to get home at the end of this journey.  So far it has thrown a good deal of challenge at me and there is a lot more to come.

I caught up with Moe and a roadside stop that he told me about having cinnamon buns as big as your head.  They are that big.  We rode together and as we approached Carmacks the rain started spitting and increased some but was never as bad as i had seen before.  Just past Carmacks the rain went away and we stopped at Five Finger Rapids for photos.  This was a place that many of the gold rushers had there bots smashed on the rocks.  At Whitehorse the Yukon River is at about 2100 feet above sea level.  It flows 2000 miles to the sea which means it drops about one foot per mile.  At Five Finger it drops two feet.  The river is huge and the current is powerful.

From here on the ride was amazing.  The rain ceased and the clouds broke and we were in the sun a lot of the way.  The pink fireweed, purple lupin and yellow flowers framed the endless tree corridor we were riding through; it was beautiful.  I saw my second fox, a black bear and the back end of a huge grizzly going into the forest.  It was up to 68 degrees and I was getting hot after we left Stewart Crossing.  After a while the clouds came back and cooled me off again.

About eight miles from Dawson we started seeing endless piles of tailings from the placer mining.  They are all around and were created when mechanization came to the mining operations.

We are pitched at a campground were many of the riders stay for the Dust to Dawson annual gathering June 15 and 16.

It is 10pm and the sun is still up, it is unreal to me.  I don’t feel tired even thoough I rode 423 miles and was up at 4am.  I am going to force myself to sleep.

I have ridden 3,810 miles so far.  Tomorrow I start to explore the gold country.

The Yukon

I awoke at Liard River Hot Springs dry and warm in the lodge.  My temporary traveling companion is very easy to get along with and we have very similar philosophies about most things.  The room we shared is about the best $60 I ever spent.  We have talked with two other riders on this same road that were in the campground in the rain all night.

We had breakfast in the lodge, it is a modest operation in a remote place.  The lady let us know that they were out of eggs because the truck forgot to bring them.  I had some sort of healthy oatmeal-like thing they called ‘Red River’.  It was filling and lasted me a long while.  A bit later a local came in and sat at the next table and ordered eggs and got them.  When we were paying the lady said that he had brought them a dozen aggs.

We left there at about 8:15 in a steady rain.  We rode until about 12:45 when the rain first stopped.  The forecast said that the rain would stop at Watson Lake about 9am but when we got there at 10:30 it was still raining off and on.  In Watson Lake there is a Sign Post Forest at the visitor’s center where anyone can put up a sign.  I brought a sticker along for my archery pop up target system and put it up.

Our tentative stop for the day was Teslin Lake 160 miles from Watson Lake.  As we rode west the rain continued, then diminished, then stopped and 100 miles from Teslin we were drenched in sunlight for the first time since Friday morning.  We had ridden in 45 degree weather for hours and now it climbed into the mid 60s.  Woo hoo.

We are now in some pretty remote country and there ain’t shit for 100 miles, or more.  There is enough traffic on the road that if something went wrong someone would be along soon, but it would take a long time for the ‘authorities’ to arrive.  It is now sinking in that I am going into ‘the wilds’.  But first, Whitehorse tomorrow, a big city of 27,000, the biggest up here.  I will have a short day and provision myself for the ride to Dawson City.  I am running low on rye whiskey.  Also my boot has sprung a leak and I need something like silicon gasket sealer to fix it.  Hours on end in the cold with a wet foot is not fun.  I know, at least I am not walking across the place like the pioneers.  I also need to get some sort of anti-fog treatment for my face shield.  In southern California that is not usually a concern.

Along the way we met a man from Fairbanks driving a restored WWII Chevrolet truck, the kind used to build this highway, to commemorate the 75th anniversary.  He said that he ‘just missed’ having it restored for the epic 50th anniversary ride when there were hundreds of vintage vehicles.  This time he is the only one, and his dog.  He goes about 40mph.

We are camped at Teslin Lake in a nice tree sheltered spot in the poplar and spruce forest.  It is a bit breezy and I have made the first camp fire of the trip.  At last I am in the Yukon.

To get into Teslin we had to cross another steel grate bridge.  This one is 1,987 feet long, if I recall.  This crossing was downright terrifying.  Not only do you have to deal with the tires squirming around on the different sections of the grate but there was a brisk cross wing from the left that wants to push you to the right so that you have to very gently correct for that.

Tomorrow Peter and I go separate ways, he is heading the Skagway and Haines and I am going to Dawson and spend a couple of days exploring the historic gold country before the Dust to Dawson motorcycle gathering on Friday and Saturday.

Today we rode 300 miles.

The day dawned clear and sunny.  It was still light the night before until almost midnight and the sky lightened in the morning a bit after 4am.  In Dawson Creek some locals told me that the area had three different Menonite sects.  Some of them were in the samw campground and their kids were making a bunch of noise until almost midnight.  I hollered ‘quite’ and that seemed to do the trick.  I did not sleep all that well.

I hit the road a bit after seven with the goal of having lunch in Fort Nelson.  The ride was sunny and crisp and I stopped after an hour to add a layer and was then nice and comfortable.  A bit later another rider on a wateer-cooled GS puuled onto the road and we rode together for the 100 miles to Fort Nelson.  When it climbed into the low 70s I was getting hot but that did not last long because we entered overcast about an hour from FN and 20 miles out a light rain started.  I stopped for lunch there with my new aquintance Peter.

The road from Charlie Lake to Fort Nelson is a pretty boring drone but gets much more scenic after.  It also got wetter.  Not as heavy as the day before.  We road through some great country but the rain made it less enjoyable.  The world was a gray-green seen through a rain spotted visor.  At one pass there was pea soup fog and at another it was 39 degrees.

We decided at lunch to try and get a room to share because the night would not be pleasant in a tent and it will be raining in the morning.  A tried to stay at Munch Lake but the fancy-pants lodge was full.  We called ahead and got the last room at the lodge in Liard River Hots Springs.  After getting squared away we walked over to the hots springs and had the most wonderful soak.  My muscles really needed it.

This moring I saw a baby and momma moose, and squirrel.  Then there was a youg male moose with small antlers in velvet.  Near the end of the day we saw a much larger male with commensurate velvet antlers.  There were two sheep next tto the road at one point and just before arriving here a herd of bison laying next to the road.

Tomorrow the Tukon.  I passed 3000 miles today just before here and road about 430 miles today.

It is June 9 and I am sitting in my tent with a light rain falling.  I am camped at Charlie Lake just outside of Fort St. John in British Columbia.  I spent five hours today riding in rain from prince George to Dawson Creek.

I awoke at about 5am in the basement of the house at the RV campground that the nice lady offered me the night before.  There was a light rain falling and it was about 42F.  I did not hurry to get ready and finally pulled my bike out of the dry garage at 6:59 and hit the road.  The rain was steady but not hard and after about 30 miles I knew I needed to stop and don the rain cover gloves I bought for this eventuality.  I found the perfect spot, a run down gas station with an overhang at the pumps.  I went inside to buy a cup of coffee.  It was a weak brown water brew but it was hot and had an aroma of coffee.  I drank it outside because I had several layers of cloting and did not want to overheat inside.  Many of the customers looked at me like I was a martian.  I am used to that.  A nice lad that stopped for diesel (they did not have gasoline) chatted with me and side it was going to get worse around MacKenzie.  Canadians are honest.

I had stopped at Bear Lake and as I made my way to Mackenzie the rain increased.  From MacKenzie it is 90 miles to Chetwynd and there is nothing in between except the mountains and the mixed conifer forest.  And it rained like hell.  I was fine for a while but got more cold as the miles wore on.  It turns out that my base layer of merino wool has a high collar and I let it stick above the collar of my waterproof layer so it wicked the rain down inside.  Doh.  the area I was in is probably beautiful when it is nice weather.  The forest went on and on and the rain brought out the scent of the trees.  The only wildlife I saw where the crows.  They don’t have sense to get out of the rain.  I was glad that the animals that could hurt me were not out because visibility wasa poor and my reaction time would have been decreased as a result.

There were a lot of oncoming trucks that roost up a lot of water.  A fully ladden log truck roosts the most water, and it is dirty.

About 30 miles west of Dawson Creek the rains diminished and then quit, for a bit, and then they were intermittant.  By this time I was very cold.  A few days before someone I ran across told me that the diner in DC that looks like a stainless steel train car is the best food there, so I sought it out.  The place was packed and the only seat was at the counter.  The decor was Elvis shit and the 50s.  If you like a bunch of fried food it is the best in town.  I was so cold I wanted to sit under the warming lamp just on the other side of the counter.  I had coffee and soup and salad.  The gear I had stripped off must have left a gallon of water on the floor.  I tipped well.

Just before I was finished eating it started to rain again and by the time I left it was pouring.  There is the ‘famous’ sign that marks the beginning of the Alaska Highway that I was supposed to stop and get a picture.  Eff that, I will steal one off the internet, I want to get were it is not raining.  Fortunately it was not raining in front of me and within about 20 miles it stopped; and it warmed up a bit and I started to not be cold.  There was some more inermittant rain but by Fort St. John it was dry and in the high 60s.  It was even 70 for a while.

I am learning to fill my gas tank at the end of the day so I don’t have that worry in the morning.  After that I wanted to find a nice beer for in camp.  In Canada you have to go to a liquor store for beer.  I finally found one and went in and spotted a black IPA from a BC brewery and chose it.  The cashier said next time I had to take off my helmet so that the cameras could see my face.  The reason she said was that they keep getting robbed, nice.  Fort St. John is an oil and gas services town so the citizens are not the finest, I assume.

I made my way five miles to Charlie Lake and pitched camp.  It is in the high 60s and was not raining so I was able to spread my gear out to dry.  The light rain that was fallig when I started this is gone.

I road along the Pine River most of the day and it was a raging, muddy torrent.  The creeks feeding it were all about busting their banks from the rain.  On the east side of Chetwynd the forest changed as if someone flipped a switch, it was now aspen trees with nary a conifer to be seen.  Here at the campground is a mix of aspen and what I think are spruce trees.  The forest floor is very lush and there are wild roses everywhere.  Some arches like to make arrows from the main shoots of wild rose because they are so straight.  Once you strip off the very dense needle-like thorns you are in business.

The area around Dawson Creek reminds me of rural Ohio with its rolling hills and diciduous woodlands.  East of DC is the Peace River and you cross it just before Fort St. John on a steel deck bridge.  The deck is a grating and I have not ridden across one before, scary.  Motorcycle tire wander with the grating and it feels like there is no traction, because there is none.  The knobby tires I have added to the fun.  The bridge was 500 miles long and I could not wait to get off.  In a car it is about ½ mile across.

The day ended soon after that and and traveled only 303 miles.  Tomorrow I plan to make it to Muncho Lake about 400 miles away.  Past were i am there is not much of anything for 200 miles so i did not want to start up that way late in the day.

I awoke to a nice dry tent in Lake Louise.  It seemed to take forever to get packed and on the road.  My neighbors in camp are a couple riding their bicycles from Vancouver to New Foundland.  They figure it will take 2.5 months.

The Icefields Highway through Banff and Jasper is very scenic.  The peaks are huge and they are permentantly capped in ice.  There are several glaciers that one can hike to but I just had time to stop for a few photos here and there.  The speed limits in Canada are monotonously slow.

At one rest area a family pulled in with a pickup and camper and mom driving a mini van.  It turns out that they are a Coast Guard family going back to Kodiak Island after six years in California.  They were living in Wildomar; the dad is a helicopter pilot and was working with the border patrol.  Small world afterall.

I saw a variety of wildlife today.  Deer, big horn sheep, two young male elk in the road with antlers in velvet.  The archer in me always visualizes the vital area for shot placement.  But, I do not hunt.  There were three grizzlies at the side of the road that I stopped and got photos and maybe GoPro video, but I haven’t checked the results.  I saw six black bears; one of them was a small cub dead in the road.  Dang.

After leaving Jasper NP it was a long drone to Prince George for the night.  It got over 80F and I had to shed layers so as not to roast.  I got to PG and went to the visitors center and got directions to a private RV/campgound.  For the last hour or so I was being chased by a storm heading in my direction.

After getting gas and some easy food to make for dinner the storm hit just as I was heading to the campground.  It was raining pretty good when I got there and I asked the lady for a spot.  She said she had one in the back in some trees or another in some trees with better cover up front.  But, then she asked why I wanted to be in a tent, she had a room in the basement of here house I could have for $50 Candian, that is just under $40US.  That was double the tent site cost but how could I turn that down.  When I asked were I should park my machine she said, “you can put it in the garage”.  So here I sit, warm and dry and my bike is inside a garage out of the rain.  What amazing good fortune.  The lady also said that if I am here when she gets up she will make me some coffee.  Hartway RV Park, Prince George, British Columbia, tell all your friends.

After a long 379 mile day i seem to be extra tired.  Sorry there are no photos, that requires more energy than I have right now.

Day 6

I left the comfort of Jed and Nancy’s awesome lake front house after they fed me a nice breakfast.  The ride north from Flathead Lake was very nice.  There were no particularly twisty roads to make things exciting but the day was clear and sunny and the temperature rose into the 70s.  It was just under a hundred miles to the Canadian border from my starting point.  I gassed up in Eureka MT before crossing because gas is more expensive in Canada.

As I was approaching Canada my random shuffle played ‘By-Tor and the Snow Dog’ by Rush in my helmet.  Very fitting for passing into Canada.  The border agent asked my a few questions mainly about firearms and let me pass.  I told him that Rush was playing as I approached and he got a kick out of it.  By now the world is covered in trees and all of the rivers are filled and flowing like mad.

I rode along the Kootenay River on the way to Banff national park.  The mountains are getting higher and more jagged and the scenery is breath taking.  I have captured some of it on my GoPro but reviewing the footage I see that it does not capture the moment as i saw it.  The bedrock along the river is sedementary and mostly gray so the river is a gray-tan color right now with its high flow; I imagine later it will clear up as it drops.  I have a fly rod with me but so far all of the streams are too blown out to bother fishing.  The smaller creeks in this area of Canada have an interesting aqua colo from the base rocks.  It is the big rivers that really erode the bedrock that are silt ladden.

At Radium Hot Springs I turned up route 93 into Kootenay NP.  I was not in the park twenty minutes and there was a grizzly bear on the opposite side of the rode.  The bear was busy rooting around in the grass ans maybe eating it and did not care a lick about the people stopping to take photos.  i may have captured him on the GoPro but am not sure.  I have too many clips to go through them and see if I got the bear.

I am camped at Lake Louise in Banff NP after a modest day of 318 miles.  It is a very nice campground and I have had dinner and a shower.  Next door are a couple from around Niagra Falls that are bicycling from Vancouver to New Foundland.

There is not much else to relay about todays adventure since it has been fairly uneventful.  I did forget to relay an interesting occurance from a few days ago.

On my second day I stopped at a rest stop a bit south of Winnemucca NV and the was a swarm of what at first i thought were scorpions all over the road and surronding area.  It turns out that the were some kind of hopping insect and I assume they are a species of locust.  In Ohio the 17 year locusts I remember flew and clung to vertical surfaces; these were on the ground.  There were so many that the cars had smashed a great deal of them.  They are about three inches long.  Fast forward to the next day in Oregon and I encountered swarms of the same insects on the road in a few places.  They are so numerous that the tire tracks on the road were red-brown from all the ones that have been squished and you could actually small them from what delecious cream filling they contain.  There were still hundreds of them crawling across the road and I could not decide whether to play dodge them or squish them; I ended up doing a little bit of both.

A side note: if I don’t get to post or approve your comments in a timely manner remember I am going into some very desolate regions and will not be around the cloud that often.

Posted from Jasper

After last nights drama I awoke to a perfecctly calm and clear morning and all I could think was ‘get me outta here’.  I did not even make coffee, I just started cleaning the gear that needed it and packing the bike.  I love dealing with a wet tent in the morning.  But, at least I had a tent; the people at Marmot get my endorsement for their gear.  It was in the low 40s and I figured it would warm up and I would be alright in light base layers, wrong.  I froze my buns off for about 30 miles into McCall Idaho.  Right away I spotted the ‘Pancake and Santa House’.

I am not a big pancake fan but pancakes also mean coffee and eggs and bacon and…  The Santa part of the operation was an attached Christmas gift shop.  To my surprise this place had buckwheat pancakes, which I like a lot and have not had any in at least ten years.  In California I have asked for buckwheat pancakes many times and I get looked at like I am a martian.  While in there I took the time to put the BMW comfort liners in my pants and jacket, they work.  The rest of the morning I was warm and only got too warm when stopped and in the sun.

Tens miles later I left the 55 and was back on US 95 going north from New Meadows along the Little Salmon river.  It did not look little, the snow melt is on and all of the rivers are gushing bank-to-bank.  At Riggins Idaho the river converges with the big Salmon river and it is really big.  The cold, brown water is making a mad dash to wherever it goes and it was filled with a lot of tree trunks and branches; I saw no salmon.  Roads along rivers are always fun on a motorcycle because the turns match the rythm of the river bends and riding briskly, but smooth, feels a lot like the flow of water.  A day or two before I was reminded of the fun of “tar snakes” on the road.  These are the tar applied to the cracks in the tarmac so that the road does not break up more rapidly.  In the sun these snakes get soft and even can melt.  Hitting a tar snake while heeled over at speed can give one quite a thrill.  I was making time in a left hand bend when my front slide ever so slightly and knocked me off line and a bit wide, a momentary jolt of adrenaline.  Be wary of tar snakes.

Once I reached Lowell the ride became epic.  From Lowell to the Lolo Pass is one of the great roads in the world.  It goes along the Clearwater River (if I recall correctly) for 77 miles.  The speed limit is 55 but the ride is best at 65, most of the time, with a need to slow down once in a while.  Riding for this long at 7\10s requires non-stop concentration and is a great test of ones skills.  I don’t feel this pace is too risky and it really made for an epic ride.  I had my GoPro mounted one the side of the helmet and tried to capture the road and beautiful river but I have not reviewed the video yet.  At some places there were river rafts, kayaks and even one guy who appeared to be on an oversized boogie board using fins.

At Lolo Pass there was a rest area and I needed it.  I had been riding hard for the last two hundred miles and needed to get rid of the morning coffee.  The rest rooms were closed for a broken pipe and the ranger lady said I had to ride another seven miles to Lolo Hot Springs.  Lady, I can’t make it another seven miles.  Oh look, there is an endless forest of trees right over there and a little path into the woods, I think I will check it out.  Mission accomplished.

At Lolo Pass you enter Montana.  My first impression of Montana was good.  They put this great road with endless sweeping turns down the mountain and posted it at 70mph.  A lot of the turns were most comfortable below the speed limit.  What a state, I can have great fun and be on the right side of the law.  I made it to Missoula and gassed up, I had 100 miles to go to Lakeside.  The ride there was a series of speed up to 70 and slow down through little towns and it took two hours.

I like going through little towns but used to get annoyed by the 25 mph speed limits, strictly enforced.  Now I realize that they are there so that one can have time to look around and try to get a feel for how these people live.  I always wonder if I could live in a small town after a lifetime of large cities.  More importantly, could I hypnotize my wife into living in a small town.   One thing about small towns is that there always seems to be a lot of old shit laying around.  Rusty shit, broken shit, abandoned shit.  I suppose that once this shit enters a small town it just never can leave.  There is also a mix of thriving and abandoned establishments.  Someone’s dreams are coming to fruition and someone else’s turned to dust sometime in the past.

My destination for the next two nights was my friend Jed’s house right on Flathead Lake.  What a beautiful place it is with a grassy lawn down to the lake.  A nice bit of rest and comfort here before venturing into the exotic land of Canada.  I hope they have not built a wall.

Day 4 was a total of 390 miles.

I left Berkeley heading for the Sierra Nevada to cross on highway 88 at about 730am.  I droned along the I-80 until Hwy 12 to get to Sutter Creek.  Not long on the 80 I could swear I smelled pot again, at 830 am; wake and bake.  Sure enough, when I passed a articular car I saw the passenger holding a smoldering object.  Welcome to the Bay area.

More vineyards along route 12.  The sierra rodes were great as usual.  At one point i missed the turn for 88 and was on the 49 and had to back track to highway 26 that intersected 88 farther east.  What a great mistake, this road was motorcycle paradise, the rythem of the turns in stretches was sheer nirvana.  The left-right-left-right patterns down one side of a valley and up the other side where intoxicating.  When I finally hit 88 the rest of the ride into Gardenerville Nevada was not as exciting but it did have a few nice stretches.

In Gardenervile I had lunch with two former colleagues who are retired. Ron Priorillo and Kirby Mays.  We had a nice visit for a couple of hours  but I had to be moving on to my nights stop outside Winnemuca.  I chose Winnemuca for the distance and the fact that there is a free BLM campground there.

I went up US 50 to Fallon and then 95 to I-80.  It got hot.  Up to now my return path from Alaska has been uncertain.  It is now certain that I will not be returning through areas like Nevada at the end of July, I will stick closer to the coast.  I have not spent any time in the Cascades…

At one point I wondered what I was doing.  I was uncomfortable in the 95 degree heat, my ass was on fire from two days riding, I was in the middle of bumfuck Nevada with 150 mles to go until camp.  Was this worth it?  A little application of logic brought me back to my senses.  I have had this desire for decades, I had a good plan and preparation; most important, I have a supporting wife that wants me to have this dream.  I know that she sometimes feels ripped off that I am doing this great adventure but she does not let on and gives full support.  How could I not continue?

At one point I crossed the Immegrant Trail.  Whenever I travel across the vast western states and get a reminder like this I can’t help but think of the people who came across in the 1800’s; they walked.  They did not ride in their wagons, that is where there stuff was that sustained them.  A lot of it was shit they learned they did not need and discarded eventually.  But, I just coveed, in fifteen minutes, a distance that would take them a day, or more.  I have it easy so press on.

I finaly made it to my camp and had a restful night after a quick camp dinner.  I had to ask for directions in town because Sprint has not data service in Winnemuca to use a map app, how 19th century.  The Water Canyon recreation area is just afew miles above town.  The stream was flowing and there were not that many spots left, much to my surprise.  Total distance traveled 439 miles.

Day 1
The start of this trip was different than all my previous trips  in that I was saying goodbye to my wife and all that is familiar for two months instead of a week or so.  It has not really sunk in yet.

Soon the ride seemed like numerous other I have taken because I had to travel north through the So. Cal metropolis.  I rode up I-15 and worked my way to the foothill freeway (I-215).  The gray-brown air obscured the San Gabrial mountains somewhat in its haze.  But, it is far better than in the 80s when I came to California.  Back then the smog was white and thick enough that you might not even know there were mountains right there.

I soon went through Santa Clarita where we started our family and lived for many years.  If there is a poster child for haphazard development it is here.  We still have many fond memories from there but I sure don’t miss the summer heat.

Once I climbed the Grapevine and passed through Frazier park the ride ceased to be familiar because I was covering new ground.  I went through Pine Mountain Club, where my aunt Gene lived for many years, and out Mill Potrero road and eventually to California 166 to the 101 and north.  I forgot what a great road is Mill Potrero with its winding and undulating asphalt for many miles.  The only soul I saw was the KTM 1190 I passed.  I should have some good GoPro video but that will have to wait for later to edit and post.

I rode on through San Lois Obispo and into Paso Robles where I was roasted a bit in the 95 degree heat.  Further north and up a bit higher I had to buck a monster head wind for 125 miles to Salinas.  It was pretty brutal and my fuel mileage was 35mpg on that tank where it is normally 10mpg better.  I think my airspeed must have been 125mph.

traveling through areas of California it is amazing to see all of the different agriculture.  there are over 200 cash crops grown in the state and no other state comes anywhere close to that number.  There are vineyards being planted all over the place.  I am not a big wine fan so it seems silly; I say plant more hops.  I always like to know what it is I see growing, some things are easy make out but many are a mystery.  I did recognize rhubarb and cabbage and Dole was kind enough to mark romaine lettuce.  At one place the was “Patrick’s Pimentos”.  It was acres and acres of small, intense green plants and I wondered how much of the world’s supply of pimentos I was seeing.

More thrills ahead when I got to I-880 in San Jose on my way to Berkeley to see two of my sons. The 880 was forty miles of mostly lane splitting.  The number of cars is unbelieveable; I can’t fathom how people can make that drive every day.  I was also amazed by the number of times i smelled pot smoke coming from the cars.  Maybe I should follow this silver 535 a while…

I had a nice visit with my sons Max and Nick and we had a nice casual dinner.  Berkeley is an interesting place to visit, it is filled with all kinds of people.  It is a bit too densely populated for me so I doubt I could live there.  I went to bed early and was gone before they awoke.  Total distance traveled 525 miles.