Leaving Yosemite I almost ran out of Gas. Good thing I was just near the peak of a mountain and had about half a gallon fuel reserve (which theoretically will get me about 30 miles of travel with the load I’m carrrying). I drove the bike down the mountain in neutral, only shifting it into gear when really needed. Luckily there was a gas station about 20 miles away. Plus, the indicated speed limit for that stretch was never more than 40 miles per hour, so I didn’t have the friendly neighbourhood asshole honking at me. Anyway, braindead experience numero uno out of the way. I’m just glad it happened while I was still in the States.
The drive down to Death Valley was really nice. True it was all highway, but the 395 was pretty secluded and the scenery was something else. When I finally arrived I took the first turn off from the highway on to the desert trails of the Valley. Like a kid in a candy store I tell ya. Loved Death Valley…fell in love with California again and thought to myself on at least five occasions “why am I leaving this place again?” I am definitely going to ride the CA deserts a wee bit more often when I get back. Sweet they are. Free-riding the desert…yummy! Happy trails indeed.
With all the fun fun fun in the desert sun (and a healthy serving of ye ole Mary-jane), I zoned out playing in the sand a little more than I should have. I wanted to get to San Diego before dark, but there was no way that was happening. The sun was already beginning to set.
I called my friend Shaffy, with whom I was planning to stay in San Diego for a couple of days before crossing into Baja, and told her that I would be getting to San Diego a little late. Turned out she was out celebrating her birthday with friends and wouldn’t get back home ’til late that night. Works with me.
