The time had arrived. The new house had slowly become a home and we were feeling comfortable. We loved our neighborhood, our yard, and most of all we love what we found in the backyard. Ahhhh, content in CA.

Now I needed to check on my father in Yerington and that involved whipping the Bandito in shape. Miles had sneaked up the odometer and tried spreading rumors of retirement, though I had no intention of letting my friend rest. New shoes were applied, new oil and fluids and over the river and through the woods to my father’s house I go.

The roads to my father’s house were all good! I could take any pass road into NV, however this trip I had new tires and wanted to get a good scrub so chose Carson Pass, by way of Fiddletown Rd and Shake Ridge Road. The new tires were splendid and following the advice I got here, I used the listed tire pressure on the sides of the tire and considered the additional weight since the bike was loaded. The ride was excellent.

A quick stop in Minden kept me from riding over Monitor Pass, I will simply have to go and visit my dad again riding Ebbetts to Monitor. Awwww, poor me.

Yerington, a very strange place to visit provided its usual form. My dad wasn’t home when I arrived so I was given the opportunity to “hang out” and wait. In the meantime, a Hispanic lad arrived to do some work, the neighbor who is dating my 82 year old father came for a visit with her little dog and I was instructed to pick some ever-ripening tomatoes. Hmmm, I mostly saw green.

My dad’s yard is lovely and I got some pix of the local foliage. When dad arrived home, a serious Martini was made and I got to my paperwork. Bills paid, and there aren’t many, new phone numbers entered into his phone and my work was complete. Dinner, a few more martinis, his not mine, and WWII stories abounded. It seemed I was revisiting my youth hearing the same tales, with some new embellishment. At 11:30 I threw in the towel and headed to bed, knowing before I could leave in the morning, I had to visit the bank and sign some papers.

I was up early, got the bike packed and ready made a necessary phone call to make a dr.’s appointment for Dad at the VA and we headed to the bank. The bank took nearly 1.5 hours and I was off to a late start. We said our goodbyes and I took Steve’s (Bosozoku) advice and headed for the Steens’ Mountains in southern Oregon.

Two different modes of transportation! At 82 he still drives this truck to Mexico! He is quite a dood!