I love holiday parties and my best high school buddy’s annual party is always exceptional. Mike lives in NV so I knew I could combine a party weekend with a visit to my dad in his new assisted living center. The weather report predicted a cloud proof sky. Well, hmmm, they aren’t very dependable are they?

So do other female riders top cases look like this? ; ) After all it was a party and I am an incurable romantic…

The fog began in Placerville and the air was full of moisture. By the time I made it to Pollack Pines, the roadway was barely visible and it was full blown raining. That lovely weather continued until the top of Echo Summit when the skies opened up giving a beautiful display of Lake Tahoe, but did nothing to dry the very wet crotch that took the brunt of the moisture. I felt like I was sitting in the lake! Unfortunately my left heated glove decided to no longer share its warmth and the fingers on the left side needed coffee. I made a stop at Stateline Starschmucks for real warmth, although it would have been better provided by some Makers Mark. I never combine booze and riding but a little wishful thinking can never hurt!

From Stateline down Spooner pass to Carson City, if cop free can be a rider’s paradise and today was my day. I figured worse case scanario would be another busted picture as I experimented sliding off the side of the bike on the awesome curves at speeds I won’t incriminate myself with by printing. It was a true blast!! Maybe I am on the verge of 99.9% hooligan!!

Carson was sunny but cold, but I was sooooo jazzed about the ride that it could have been sub-zero and I would have still had a huge grin!!

Time to visit my dad. He isn’t happy right now and I believe nothing would contribute to his happiness, short of a 1/2 gallon of vodka. He threatens the female employees, jokes with the doods and makes himself a general pita. He had nothing kind to say to me and wanted me to remove all personal items from his room. Each and every visit is fraught with stress for both of us, I am sorry to say. This is probably one of the more difficult things I have ever dealt with.

So, dealing with an evening filled with friends and laughter was a wonderful asset.
Me and my beautiful friend, Julie

The following morning the sun was shining and my friends decided to join me as I traveled south to go north! It was chilly, but gorgeous. We traveled 395 south to Bridgeport where we parted ways and they went to enjoy the twisty fun of Sweetwater pass whereas I was stuck heading south on 395, however I did have an entire adventure planned…hmmmm.
All plans went awry as every side road I tried to take was closed. 120 East was closed to Benton, then Hwy 168 was closed as well. I was damned to 395, so I made the best of it.

After parting from the boys, I encountered this…

Gotta have the blank and white close up! ; )

Farther south

You just can’t beat the Sierras

Nice ad for the AMA

I made Lone Pine after an hour of riding in the dark, only to have some man yell at me that my bike was blocking the entrance of the Best Western, which it was not, but I humored him and moved it. The night crew took pity on me and upgraded my free room to one with a living area and a jacuzzi, so his anger ended up a gift to me. HA HA!!

I decided to celebrate in Lone Pine with a bottle of cheap, but not inexpensive vino rojo from the local liquor store after discovering how much a small bottle of Makers Mark was going to cost me. That and a day old salad from the refrigerator case and I called it good. I must say that solo riding has me seriously disliking eating solo. I’d rather just get something and go back to the room and get comically toasted, surf pashnit, watch a film, or take a bath! Tonight was cheap wine, a crappy salad and a super nice hot bath tub with a jacuzzi. Ahhhhh….

I didn’t have neighbors so spent some time blasting music and dancing around my spacious room and cracking myself up…I am spending entirely too much time solo!! I didn’t fall into my huge king size bed till nearly 3 am. It was a damn fine night!!

Morning came early as my head told me it was time to pop a couple of ibuprofen and get on the move. I looked outside and the sun was beaming. The mountains were unbelievably gorgeous, glowing in the distance. Ok…I am ready for another day, only what’s all over my bike….ice…nice.

I stalled until the sun hit the bike. (oh ya, I could have moved it into the sun, but hey, it was early!!) I grabbed some of the free breakie and returned to attempt a couple of self-portraits…it took me a couple of tries before i realized i had two setting…2sec and 10second. You got the result of both!

I finally geared up and headed south…south to go north…how typical of me. I had more great ideas for some side roads, thinking that Kennedy Meadows over Sherman Pass had to be open. There was little to no snow around that area. Riding south and pondering the turn off, I zipped right by this place and had to make a u-turn and go back for a photo. It said motel…hmmmm. If so that’s my next motel on Hwy 395, though the internal dance floor is probably lacking!!

Close up of the cool dino.

Just south of cool dinoville, was the turn off for Kennedy Meadows. I made the turn and about one mile up the road was told that it was closed at the Meadow, due to black ice. *sigh*…I am definitely highway bound on this trip. So south to Hwy 178.

178 was an open canvas for some great moto-painting. The worst culprit was the wind. It was howling and the closer I got to Lake Isabella the windier it became, but the roadway was nearly deserted so was a blast.

I have to admit, I do love this road, especially through the canyon. It’s tight twisties and people actually use the turn outs, so there was no one holding up my hooliganism. ; )

By Bakersfield it was getting foggy and damp and i could tell what the future held. I really wanted to get home but that was not gonna happen this night. By the time I arrived in Fresno it was raining cats and dogs. I was cold and wet, it was dark, my helmet kept fogging, and the reflections on the dark roadways were killing me. I pulled off for coffee and to rethink. Ah…..LARRY!!!!

I called Jester and he was all to happy to warm me with Lagavulin Scotch and a wonderful futon, but it did come with a price tag…a trip to his son’s Christmas recital for the evening. I was game.

Daniel did well and so did the choir and band. It was a lovely holiday concert and I was pleased to share it with Larry, Audrey and their fabulous kids!

Larry’s handsome son, Daniel

I was up early heading home only the final jewel in the crown of this ride was dropping my bike in Larry’s driveway! Of course I was alone and though I try to consider myself a relatively tough motorcyclist, there was NO picking this bike up from it’s downhill fall. I solicited the neighbor. As he came to my aid so did another neighbor and in moments the bike was upright and I was picking up the pieces of the broken turn signal and checking out my now rashed bags. Well, damn…nothing a few stickers can’t cover. Tim to the white courtesy phone. : )

After dropping the bike my confidence and cockiness had long disappeared and the idea of an icy Little Dragon seemed daunting and sent me straight to Hwy 99 and home…after all, I do believe that my little south to go north had racked up several miles and I should simply call it a day or two!

Well one would think it would all end here, but not in my world. I was having ipod trouble and my heated gloves were still not heating, so i jumped off the highway near Turlock to see what could be done. My frozen ipod was reset and the gloves…well what can i say, they suck right now. I went to get back on 99 and there was no entrance north. Great…I follow the GPS, only it’s confused by all the construction. Somehow, I end up on the west side of the freeway in a bit of sketchy area. There’s a group of 5-8 sagged panted hoodie boys who are staring so, i figure what the hell. I ask them how to get to the highway. They all laughed, directed me, and told me how cool it was to see a lady riding alone. Yep, making friends everywhere I ride.

This place following my getting lost was difficult to pass by…it all seemed very appropo.

Made it home, smiling. Time to buff the bag, fix the gloves, order a turn signal and figure out where to next.

Sacramento to Carson City and back….just under 900 miles…woohoo!!