Some pictures from my motorcycle-riding days.
This is the way Glinda and I used to ride--everything except the two of us was held down with bungie cords. This picture was taken in the Sierra Nevada on Highway 49.
Here's Glinda on a trip that took us to Mendocino, Clear Lake, the Feather River, Quincy, and over the Sierra Nevada. We'd alternate between camping (with tent), motels and bed and breakfasts.
Here's a poster I drew for the Salinas chapter of the Harley Owner's Group (HOG), of which I was a charter member. It's a map, detailing the route of a poker run. After paying an entry fee, we'd all ride to various places, drawing a playing card out of a hat. The best hand was determined at the last stop, where we'd eat and socialize. It was lots of fun.
Now that I don't ride a motorcyle, it's pretty annoying when thirty Harley Davidsons rumble by. Still, it was a close as I'll ever get to riding horses in a cavalry.
This was the hand we drew on one run. The reason we only drew four cards is that we detoured off the last leg to visit my mother and stepfather who were coincidentally passing through on Hwy 101 in their motorhome on their way south.
Here's a picture taken by Glinda, who was looking over my shoulder. It was in northeastern California, and a herd of cattle was being moved down the road. I scooted right up to the back bumper of the car in front of me to be as inconspicuous as possible, but that bull is definitely eyeballing me! My bike was black with handlebars for horns, so I was hoping he didn't consider me a rival.
Somewhere between Silver City, Nevada, and Reno, the spotlamp weld broke and my first stop in Reno was to get that taken care of. The dealership directed me to a small welding shop, and before long, we were on our way.
My favorite ride was on Pole Line Road (California State Hwy 167) heading east into the Nevada desert from Lee Vining (you can see the northern tip of Mono Lake on the right). It was just as I had planned---a 45 mile straight asphalt ribbon to oblivion. What I hadn't planned was the reflection of the Sierra Nevada in my rear-view mirrors. What a morning.