I headed back to the past yesterday.  The Russian River, where Jody, Jackson, and I lived in the late 70's.  Jackson was our doberman, such a great dog.  As I headed up 101, this morning, the traffic was indeed going into the city, so I was good to go!  

I recognized the sign immediately.  I was transported into my memory, just listening.  The first thing I noticed was the exit ramp for River Rd. was much wider..... 2 lanes going off.  And there were the signs --- Russian River Resort.  At the intersection of Fulton Rd., which matched the expansion of the exit ramp,  I looked to the right for the old produce warehouse, it was now an electric power station.  200 yards down on the left, the old chicken processing plant, was now an art gallery.  The smell was gone and so were all the feathers.  Sometimes, change is good!

After a mile, River road turned back into what I remembered.  Single lane, mostly straight, some curves, but beautiful.  Eucalyptus trees and vineyards everywhere.  I missed the entrance to the fire station, even though there was a new sign.  There was now a campground using the same entrance and that threw me off.  Turned around at Korbel -- boy has that expanded, and made my way up the hill to Hilton fire station.

I pulled up, everything looked EXACTLY the same.  There was a family outside, with an obviously distraught woman and there was a Chaplin with them.  I nodded to the chaplin and she nodded back.  Just trying to communicate that I got it and wouldn't disturb them. I didn't see any firefighters around, so I headed up to the barracks.  The eating table, the kitchen --- the same.  Dominic greeted me, I just started mumbling that I was a firefighter here 37 yrs. ago......  He thought that was great,  I was immediately welcomed into the fold.  They showed me around, only thing that had really changed was my little back room.  Since there weren't any woman at the station now, it was the chief's office.

Dominic was the one who suggested the picture out back, when I showed them the old one.  I am so thankful, he suggested it because I would have kicked myself for forgetting to do that.  I wanted to go see the trucks.  He offered to take me around, things were a bit uptight right now.  They had a body recovery from sunset beach, this morning. I understood.  Side note here, there did not used to be a sunset beach or any beaches on the river, there are now beaches all up and down river rd.  Campgrounds, and yes resorts.  Although none of them seemed obnoxiously done.  The truck bays were just the same, still a two truck station.  The big truck was out.  Dominic and I talked, traded a couple of stories, I thanked him, gave him some stickers, and made my way into town.

Outside of Guerneville, there was a new Brew Pub on the river, very cool.  Unfortunately, they didn't sell their brew to go yet.  Packaging coming in a couple of weeks, so I didn't get to try it.  Town looked the same, River theatre, The River Grill, that had the best silver dollar pancakes.  It all had the same hippie/redneck feel.

I crossed the river on a big new bridge.  Blue umbrellas clustered at a spot on the river to the right.  The river was full.  Canoes, tubes, kayaks, people.

Took a right just over the bridge onto Neeley road.  Big resort on right --- that blew my mind.  Once past the resort, the road returned to the Neeley road of my memory.  Small, winding, pretty much single lane, no lines.  I wondered if I would recognize our old house, I couldn't remember the exact house #.  17734 kept popping up.  

I recognized it immediately.  The gate was the same and so was the wooden fence that Jackson would push with his nose to escape, although the fence at this point wouldn't even give him a pretense of confinement.  The house has def. seen better days.  The boxwoods out in front, that Nema planted, were doing very well, however.

Headed SE on 116 out of Guerneville.  Was curious if the old Forestville Inn was still around. All the mexican food I eat, I compare to my memories of this place.  Who knows if it was really any good.  It wasn't there.  Disappointing.  Occidental, had really grown, but it was charming.  Went past the Occidental Fire Station, I had forgotten where it was, this was where I first started working for the Ca. Dept. of Forestry, clearing brush.  Memories of the juvenile delinquents and their names and faces have come back as I'm writing this.  Danny, Pat, Kurt, Scotty, Ron, and I can see a face but can't recall his name.  We were a great bunch....... good times.

It was in Occidental, that I saw a sign that gave credibility to something I had been pondering.  " Got water? Vineyards do!"  Sonoma County now had vineyards and wineries everywhere.  It now looked like Napa Valley to me.  I don't know the whys or the hows - just an observation.

Time to get out of dodge --- was feeling like I'd had a little too much nostalgia for one day.  Pulled over to drink some water and check my maps.  Out of nowhere, A young man walks up to me as I 'm sitting on my bike, putting my helmet on.  I jumped.  He apoligized, lives right around the corner, just making sure I was OK.  He has a Tiger 800.  That little gesture, gave me the energy I needed to get myself psyched to get to the other side of San Francisco.

Traveled Graton road ( Occidental/Bohemian Hwy), I just love the word Bohemian.  All was well, until I missed a turn somewhere and ended up in San Rafael during rush hour.  The most miserable time I have ever spent on a motorcycle.  104.9 degrees F....... moving inches at a time.  My GPS, finally comes to the rescue.  Maybe, because I'm finally figuring out how to use it.  It tells me to take a R -- I notice highway signs up ahead --- everyone else keeps going straight ---- hmmmm.  Lightbulb, everyone else wants to go N, I want to go S.  GPS is going to drop me below this entrance.  BINGO!!  Exactly what happened -- smooth sailing across the Golden Gate Bridge and into San Francisco.  We had to deal with rush hr. there but it was a beautiful 72 degrees.  Huge difference.  We spent the night in Pacifica, at a little dump.  Met some really great kids there and a yellow lab named Landon.

Headed S on Hwy 1.  This section is called the Cabrillo Hwy.  Headed for Monterey.  About half way there, I stopped to check for places to stay.  I was exhausted from traveling back in time, was starting to make stupid mistakes, very distracted.  Stormy was not happy with me.  I wasn't happy with me.  I needed to park and just walk around for a day.  Expedia had a special on a Best Western in Monterey.  Could walk to everything.  I booked two nights, hoping I could just keep myself in the game long enough to get there safely.

Not only did we make it safely, have I mentioned how awesome my bike is, we had 4 surprises.  I can see Monterey Bay from my window, I have a propane fireplace ( and I was cold from the ride) there is a great outside hot tub, AND Stormy has cover.

Stormy and I made our way to "The 5" from Fresno.  Once we were on 25, the countryside was all of the California of my memory.  Although this is the first time I have ridden across the country, it is the fourth time I have crossed the country.  It is only the second time East to West.  I can remember vividly the first time I saw the brown hills of California, that is where I first saw velvet.  Going over those hills, and then there was the Pacific ocean.  I was driving, I remember yelling to the back of the truck to Jody, wake up --- you've got to see this.

So nothing but brown velvet hills, dotted with Canyon Live Oaks.  Although, they may actually be Interior Live Oaks, there is a difference, but that I forget.  Think it has to do with elevation.  The road itself was empty and Stormy and I were both content to silently go with the flow, until we reached Pinnacles.  I didn't know much about Pinnacles NP, only that it is our 59th NP, created just two years ago.  This is the park that drove me crazy during a conversation because I was sure there were 58 NP's.  Google to the rescue, once again!  Anyway, Pinnacles is named for the eroded remains of an extinct volcano.  Most of it is protected wilderness, as it is a nesting area and release site for California Condors that have been hatched in captivity.  I think there are about 33 of them there now.  They were put on the endangered species list in 1967.  I saw 3 of them flying outside of the park, once I knew what their wingspan in flight looked like.  I think I saw a couple going into the park, but I can't be sure, didn't know what I was looking for.  This park also has some caves and is home to several bat species.  There is a colony of Townsend's big-eared bats, that stay in the park year round.  White nose syndrome is not here!!

Nice, albeit short drive through the park, this is a hiking park, and it was way too hot this time of year for that.  Why it was so empty.  Beautiful campgrounds, Beautiful Park. 

Butler Maps highlights hot springs on their maps.  There was one about 53 miles from Pinnacles, so I decided to head there.  Getting there, was a gorgeous ride on Panoche Rd. and Little Panoche Rd.  However, Stormy was low on fuel, there really had been no where to fuel up the way I way coming in.  So beautiful riding soon turned into worry as we hit our reserve.  The road did not want to stop.  Nothingness.  Just brown velvet, live oaks and a very occasional ranch.  I stopped 3 times to check my maps.  And of course, no cell service.  Finally, I came around a corner and saw green in the distance, knew that had to be it.  What a surprise Mercey Hot Springs turned out to be....... Heaven! and just a few campers.  Met a nice couple from Pismo Beach, CA.  who also ride BMW GS's.  Although they weren't on them for this trip.  Found out that fuel was about 17 miles away, N on "The 5".  We could make that, with the 30 ounces of extra fuel I had.  Relieved, I unloaded, lubed Stormy's chain, checked her over, fluids, loose nuts, etc., then headed for a magnificent soak in a tub filled with hot mineral spring water.  They had two tub areas, one where clothes are required and one where clothing is optional.  No need to guess which area I headed to.

Had another soak with my morning coffee, completely alone, before heading off for Interstates all day.  For the next 17 miles, I was running at 3000 RPM's, instead of 4300, pulling the clutch in on downhill grades, and using my brakes instead of my engine to slow down.  There was probably something else I could have done to save fuel, but that was all I could think of.  We made it!  Never have I been so happy to see an Interstate.

Headed toward Oakland/San Francisco, I was mulling over a conversation I had with Chris and Phil, the couple I met yesterday aft.  We were talking about motorcyclists not being seen.  Phil observed that it's not that we aren't looking for motorcyclists or bicyclists, it's that we aren't used to seeing them, so when we look and see them, we don't see them because our mind isn't used to seeing them.  I recall the training videos about Railroad Crossings for school bus drivers.  When we cross the same tracks, sometimes 4 times a day, we stop and look, but we see what we are used to seeing -- empty tracks, even if a train is coming, unless we change our way of looking.  

After Tommy died, I was coming to terms with my anger about his death.  I was on my way to work after lunch, at the end of my own road.  I stopped, looked left, looked right, then looked left again before making a left hand turn.  Saw empty road.  Started to pull out, heard a beep and slammed on my brakes, a motorcycle went by, and the driver had a huge smile.  I just started shaking and sobbing.  That was Tommy.  Had that motorcyclist not beeped, I would have hit him.  I meant to tell that story to Roy, don't know if I did.  But I am reminded that I need to.

So I guess the point of this particular rambling is that when we look for motorcyclists or bicyclist, we need to EXPECT to see them.

Wasn't expecting to go into San Francisco until the way back down the coast, but traffic directed me that way, rather lack of traffic.  But that way a myth...... Anyway, crossed the San Francisco bay first from Oakland into San Francisco and then from San Francisco into Marin County.  Going through the city brought back a flood of memories, I recognized street names and just picked my way through.  It was fun.  Eventually made my way to 101 and crossed the Golden Gate Bridge.  From there the fun ended.  Traffic, Traffic, and more Traffic.  And it was 2:30 in the aft. on a Mon.  I was hoping to make it to Santa Rosa for the night, but gave up at Petaluma.  I had been standing on my pegs because I get more air and I want traffic behind me to see me.  Lane splitting is legal in CA. and every motorcyclist I saw was doing it.  I even saw cars moving over for them.  But I am just not comfortable doing it, especially with all my gear.  

Petaluma used to be small town, really small town.  Not the case, anymore.  I asked the young woman who checked me in, she said it was "discovered" because of low housing costs so close to the city.  The traffic was not an anomaly, it is the way it is now.  

Spectacular ride into Sequoia on 198E.  Green orchards on both sides, apricot, peach, cherry --surrounded by brown velvet hills.  

As I entered the park, memories came flooding back, of the time I worked for the CA. Dept. of Forestry, first a part of a conservation crew - making fuel breaks and then as a firefighter.  The smells of dry earth, dry grass, pines, manzanita, madrone.....even a whiff of a campfire from one of the campgrounds outside the park, mixed into the moisture less air.
Traveled the "Generals Highway" through the park.  For the first half, the road was packed.  I'm so thankful for my sense of smell because I couldn't take my eyes off the road.  People were crazy --- I'd go around a corner and there would be a car backing up.  Had to maneuver to the side so the person in back of me wouldn't hit me.  That lasted until the Giant Forest.  After, General Sherman Tree, the largest tree on earth, the traffic virtually disappeared.  Absolutely perfect riding conditions, high 60's, graceful road, surrounded by majestic forest.  Giant Sequoia's, sugar pines, incense-cedar, white firs, yellow pines.  The smells brought back so many memories.  Stopped by the side of the road and just listened to the trees talk.  
Stormy and I found our rhythm on this section of road.  Only an occasional car, mostly cyclists - bi and motor.  Into King's Canyon to see the General Grant Tree.  This is the 2nd largest tree in the world.  The Sequoia grove in which General Grant stands is really impressive.  
Again, saw lots of families in these parks.  One young American family were just sitting on the ground outside the fence that protects General Sherman.  They had sketch pads and watercolors spread out, the kids were painting what they saw.  

Talked with a Pakistani father and an American father on a shuttle bus about the difference between boys and girls, the Pakistani had one of each, twins.  He let his wife deal with his son...... his quiet daughter was easier.  The American father and I both agreed that boys are much easier.

I just remembered a meeting I had with 2 men outside the N Rim of the Grand Canyon.  They couldn't believe that I was riding by myself.  First man, " Your husband let you do this?"  Rather than argue the point of his terminology - let me?!  I just said, "Yes, he is very supportive."  Second man, " You sure he likes you?  I'd like to get rid of my wife, I think I might let her do something like this."  Gotta love it.

Sequoia National Forest, another forest that just blew me away.  I think that National Forests have been the biggest discovery for me on this trip.  I just didn't get it.  Believe me, I get it now....... What a resource!!

As my elevation dropped, the temp. climbed.  Dropping into Squaw Valley I was back in high 90's again.  Really not too bad, just quite a noticeable difference.  Where 180 W turns into a divided highway --- I saw a big green sign........ Thompson Ave.

Good ride on Tommy's birthday.  Listened to music as I rode through Lake Mead NRA which was desolate, yet beautiful in a scary, forbidding way.  I did not want to break down here.  Only saw a couple of vehicles, a white park truck ( reassuring, as the entrance gate was empty), an UPS truck, ( confirms my thoughts on UPS - the best), and a couple of other motorcycles.  Apparently, you can hunt there, but cannot target shoot.  I have no idea what is there to hunt.  
Stopped in Henderson to get some fuel and something to eat.  Saw a Sonic, hmmmm, Tommy and I went to one of those once and it sucked.  But hey, I could park in the shade, so why not.  It was still bad and no bathrooms...... brought back a memory, so it was all good.

Met one of many angels on this trip.  I have just started seeing them as angels...... a young man named Shane and his wife, Autumn.  They helped me figure out how to order from the shaded table area.  We started talking.  Interesting side note, Men who want to talk want to know how many cc's my bike has, what's the fuel capacity, how many mpg, etc.  I have memorized all this info., and more, even though I am a romantic and am riding a BMW because I don't know anything about motorcycle maintenance and if I treat her right, (regular pre-trip/post trip stuff), she will take care of me.  I don't know the first thing about "fixing anything".  Anyway, as Shane was leaving, he stopped over to let me know about a short cut.  Follow signs for St Rosa --- it will put me on 15 and save me some miles.  

So I wanted 160W because I was planning on going to Death ValleyNP.  Well this short cut dropped me onto 15 S of 160.  Once I realized it, it was too late.  The temp. was 104.9 and I was so finished with the desert.  Re- boot --- headed for Sequoia and Kings Canyon NP's. Such a meant to be change, all thanks to my angel, Shane.

A couple of notes about temp. changes., I have noticed that I still have not had to use the cooling vest a friend gave to me, but I have used my gel neck wrap.  I think that driving a school bus in hot, humid weather has prepped me for the temp's.  The highest temp. I have ridden in is 104.9.  I've driven my bus with the inside temp at 106.  It all is not fun.  And that myth about dry heat....... once it gets past 98...... doesn't matter -- I can feel the air sucking every bit of moisture out of my body.... I can't drink enough water, especially while riding.  I have realized the advantages of a jacket with a water bladder pocket.  When riding, I can feel feel one degree of temp change.  It is amazing, I have never been so tuned into temperature.  Of course, I have been worried about Stormy, as we have been locking the throttle down and just going for the last day and a half.  She is a rock star, all I can say.  I hug her every night.

This angel, I met, where else, at a fuel stop.  He was driving a big white suburban, hauling a trailer loaded with 4 wheelers.  I was feeling down, I was in California, I had been so focused on getting here, but really nothing had changed.  Tommy would still be dead.  Maybe in the back of my mind, I had hoped the last two years was all a dream.  I don't know, all I know is I was down.  Then this tall, blonde, 20 something kid wanders over and starts talking to me.  He has a bright pink surf shirt on, shorts, flip flops and a smile that lights up his eyes from the inside.  He tells me that my bike looks like the bike Alice had in Resident Evil.  Blank stare.  He laughs and says you have no idea what I'm talking about do you?  Exactly!  He goes on to explain that it's a zombie movie.  It's the second one, "Extinction" when she crosses the Nevada desert.  I just laugh, and write down the name of the movie, and say, I'll have to check it out.  I go inside to use the bathroom ( In this heat, it seems to be understood that if it's not crowded, you just leave your vehicle under the awning at the pumps, that awning is usually the only shade).  

I'm back with stormy, putting my gear on, and back over he comes, like we're old friends.  Here, check this out --- he has pulled up a picture of the bike from the movie. I grab my glasses, sure enough, the picture does look like stormy!  Very cool ---  I ride off with a smile and a lighter heart, realizing the difference in my being thanks to a young stranger that I felt I knew.

58 from Barstow to Bakersfield, passed the towns of Mojave and Tehachapi.  I was here in Feb.  coming out of riding in the Mojave Desert.  It was beautiful in Feb.  Wildflowers blooming, green, even the cactus was blooming.  Not so in July.  I broke my leg, on Caliente-Bodfish road in the Sequoia National Forest, east of Bakersfield.  Bakersfield is where the ambulance was coming from, until I had them cancel it.  What they hell would I have done in a hospital in Bakersfield?  All my stuff, and my rental car was 2 hours South. I reflect on what a good decision it was to ride back to the ranch on the back of Shawn's bike.  I'm thankful he is such a good rider, even 2 up.  By the way, I did not have any painkillers with me at the time -- stupid on top of stupid.  

99 from Bakersfield to Visalia.  Out of the corner of my eye, T - WEST, in big bold letter written on the side of a tractor trailer.  

The crosswinds were a little bit better on this uneventful stretch.  Uneventful is good!!!  lots of nut trees, vineyards, and BIG signs from the farmers coalition NO WATER = NO JOBS.  They are not happy with Sacramento in this area.

Stormy has not been using a lot of oil, but I only brought a small nalgene bottle of it.  Needed some more, There happened to be a Motorsports store right off 99.  I called and asked if they had any 15-50 wt. oil.  He asked what I was putting it in.  I told him and he said yes.  Valley Cycle on Buck Owens Blvd., Bakersfield, CA.  Easy in and easy out.  Walked in, pretty young woman at the desk, good aft., very friendly.  I saw the parts sign and pointed, I'm heading that way.  She nodded and smiled.  A young man comes up and says 15-50 wt oil?  Yes, how did you know?  He smiled, I saw you pull up.  Chad Courson.  Friendly, nice, relaxed, professional.  I just love Motorsports stores - everyone is so happy.

A final note for today's blog -- I apologize for the lack of images.  My intention was to add good images to the Galleries page of this website.  However, uploading has been way too slow for me to be able to do that on the road.  I will add them went I get home, just in case anyone is interested in seeing them.

I made it to Nevada last night after visiting the N Rim of The Grand Canyon.  Very peaceful there, less hectic than the S Rim, or at least what I remember of the S Rim from 30 years ago.  The Kaibab National Forest is spectacular. I was riding in 60 and 70 degrees all morning, that was also spectacular.  
I all of a sudden became obsessed with getting to NV, and then trying to get to CA for Tom's birthday.  That was the original plan for this trip but that changed when I moved it up a year with a later start date.
I made my way to 15 S and into Mesquite, NV.  I am now officially on Pacific time.  I was riding SW at the end of the day, with the temps in the 100's.  Topped at 103.4.  I did stop and put on my cooling neck wrap, which helped immensely.  I will most likely be moving up to the cooling vest for todays ride.  At least I will have the sun at my back today.  The cross winds along the virgin river were really messing with me, very hard to stay in my lane.  I white knuckled my way into town.

Once in my air conditioned room, I open a beer and turn on the TV.  Moto-X comes on.  I watched and had a nice cry.  I am so thankful that Tommy chose me as his mother, I am so thankful that I was able to know him for 25 years, as a mother and as a friend.  I miss him like hell.  This is the third birthday without him.  He loved his birthday, and it was just one day  --- unlike his sister, India -- who celebrates the whole month, lol.  She IS the princess of July, after all.  I loved watching him open his presents, he would get so excited, especially when he was older and he knew exactly what it was.  

No musings today, just going to ride --- with my headphones in, going to listen to a playlist that I put together of songs that Tommy listened to.  Songs that remind me of being with him.  And, of course, I have to listen to Kenny Chesney's "Who'd you be today"  but might have to wait until I've finished riding to listen to that one.  

As I'm writing this, a message from FB just popped up -- reminding me it is Tom Westerlund's Birthday today.

Would like to share (with permission) something that a young woman I have never met sent me this morning.  Her name is Laura Kahn, she lives in California and wrote this on 3/31/14.  Thank you, Laura for sharing your writing with me.

"Last summer I received a phone call that I will never forget.  My friend Paige and I hadn't spoken in a while, so I was eager to take the call.  As soon as I answered the phone she asked me if I was in a safe place.  That question alone sent shivers down my spine.  Then the words "Tom died" came out of her mouth.  From that moment forward my life hasn't been the same.

When I first heard this horrific news I was in complete shock.  The room started to spin and my heart was beating out of my chest.  I tried to respond to Paige, but no words came out.  'Laura, he was riding his motorcycle and the truck came out of nowhere, it wasn't his fault.' Paige tried to explain.  She also said 'He died on impact, he didn't suffer'.  My stomach turned inside out.  I couldn't comprehend that I would never hear Tom's voice, or see his beautiful face again.  I began to question my investment in faith, the Universe, and God.  Asking myself countless times a day, 'If there is a God, then why does this happen?'  and  'If there is a God, why didn't he stop the truck from hitting Tom?'  The more I tried to make sense of it all the angrier I became.  Sometimes life isn't fair, and there are no words to explain why these tragedies happen, especially to such incredible people.

As time passed I started to grieve.  I talked about the wonderful times we had.  He would take me to the beach, no matter how late at night it was, just to spend time together.  I went to Tom's memorial to honor his life.  He was such a close person to me, and taught me ways of living that I will take with me wherever I go.  I met Tom about five years ago through mutual friends.  He was someone I instantly connected with.  When we first met he kissed me.  Within five minutes of talking to each other, I knew he was somebody special.  It felt like we had been together from a past lifetime.  He introduced me to some amazing artists, including a musician named Ryan Adams.  Listening to 'Everybody Knows' and many other songs by him, brought tears to my eyes.  He held my hand through really challenging times and I believe he was an angel sent from heaven.  I am so appreciative to have had the privilege of knowing him.  Tom was so young, and knew that motorcycles were dangerous.  But often times many of us say 'That won't happen to me!' unfortunately for Tom it did.

The last stage of ' The Five Stages of Loss' is Acceptance.  We are all blessed if we arrive to this emotional state.  I finally allowed myself to feel the loss, and then the healing process began.  It ultimately created space in my life that I had never experienced before.  I was given the opportunity to take a step back, and absorb every new experience with a little more depth and appreciation.  Faith came back into my life, and the realization that nothing happens in God's world by mistake.  To this day I still ask myself 'What would Tom do?' when I'm confronted with a difficult decision; he guides me through it.  I hear him say 'Laura, everything's going to be alright, take it easy.'  Tom is always with me, and just because I can't see him doesn't mean he isn't there.

The passing of Tom's life was one of the most heartbreaking experiences I have ever been faced with.  But I am incredibly grateful that I was able to overcome the loss.  The more pain I allowed myself to walk through, the stronger I became.  Tom's tragedy is now a reminder of how precious and short life is.  I have continually made an effort to be present in the moment, and appreciate all the gifts and lessons life has to offer.  After all, tomorrow is not guaranteed; we only have today."

Where do I begin to describe the last three days?

I left Moab, headed N to catch 70W and then took 24 S and W to Canyonlands NP.  Butler Maps lists 24 as a lost highway. " Beyond high Mtn. passes and plunging canyon rds that reach out to the horizon and the unknown beyond.  The faded paint of a centerline, the crumbling shoulder is all that remains of these byways that seem lost in time.  Void of the trappings of modern life, they provide a motorcycling experience as unique as the untouched landscapes they divide."  That pretty much sums it up.  I felt  in the moment, more than I have on this trip so far.  At the same time, I wondered if I really was crazy, and if I was, what did that really mean?
I began singing Christmas Carols and Hymns...... not because I am particularly fond of them, but because I know all the words and I sound better to myself singing them.   Since I wear ear plugs, when I sing while I ride, I can really hear myself....... if you have ever heard me sing, you know where I'm going with this.  For some reason, I can sing Christmas Carols and some Hymns on key -- whatever that means.

Entering Capital Reef --- 24 turned into a really fun ride.  Gentle sweeping curves, beautiful blues and greens in the layers of red rock.  A geologic monocline on the earth - The Waterpocket Fold extends almost a 100 miles.  Think wrinkles.  This park was my favorite of any NP I have been to so far.   It was empty.  I would soon learn why.

Monday, I traveled 12S toward Zion.  I had planned on going N towards Great Basin.  One of the advantages of doing a trip like this, I can change my mind anytime I feel like it.  No rational reason why I changed my mind, just a feeling.  " Journey through Time" and "Million Dollar Rd" ( another one, the first one I tried, I didn't finish.) Through Dixie National Forest - Aquarius Plateau -- Escalante National Monument  and into Zion NP.  The morning was incredible, there are not enough adjectives, or at least not in my vocabulary to describe this ride.  Stopped to fuel up and eat something....... watched a little boy racing his grandfather in the parking lot.  His mother screaming encouragement, "GO OWEN".  I started clapping when he won...... we all smiled.

The aft. was full of rain, it started around Tropic ( where the turn off to Bryce Canyon is) .....and cold....down to 51 degrees F..... I had to put a fleece on under my jacket.  Handlegrip warmers were ON.   It lasted until I entered Zion NP.  I felt like I had entered Heaven - low clouds, fog mixed with sunlight, all surrounding massive towering cliffs of red and white sandstone.  Even the road was red.  Around every corner, they was water cascading down the rock from the rain that had just gone through.  It would be gone within the hour.

I spent Mon. night in a historical lodge.  It was a dump but what the hell.  I was a mile from the entrance to heaven during high season, it was reasonably priced, and I had no reservation.  There were 3 places to eat within walking distance.  One didn't serve alcohol, but he would have his permit in 3 weeks.  Hmmmmm...NO.  The 2nd was a mexican place, I could go for a margarita..... no bartender --- only beer and wine..... ok, beer would be fine.  There were only 2 servers and the place was packed.  I left after 10 mins.  Not that I mind waiting, it's just that these guys were def. overwhelmed.  The 3rd place was a sushi/steak place..... The hostess was up front right away..... we only have 1 server and can't take any more people.  I appreciated that.  Back I go to my room and my handy dandy, way cool polar bear cooler, where I have a leftover steak medallion wrapped with bacon, salad with chipotle dressing and 7% beer from a Moab brewery.  Life is indeed very good.

I had a restless night.  I really wanted to do a "strenuous" hike to "Angel's Landing" in the morning.  But before I went to bed, I had decided I couldn't do it..... both my back and my leg/ankle had been bothering me.  I woke up this morning, laid in bed, the answer came.  Painkillers!  I always carry both prescription painkillers and a full course of antibiotics whenever I travel.  I could do the hike!!  I knew my broken leg was fully healed, it wasn't a matter of doing damage, it was just pain.  I knew my back was fine, just pain.  Did all my back stretches, packed my day pack with ice water, sunblock, hat, pen/paper, good buffalo jerky, granola, and painkillers.  Loaded up stormy, checked out and off to the visitor center to catch the shuttle.  Zion does a great job of managing crowds.  the displays outside make it easy to plan your day.  The shuttle keeps a lot of traffic off the roads and is the only way to get to some trail heads.  

I was on the shuttle, they have an audio that they play. Info. about where to get the shuttle, etc.  Also, some informative info. about the park itself. A Paiute man starts speaking.  Talking about the historical imp. of this area to his people.  How every plant, rock, tree, lizard, has a purpose.  I started tearing up, just listening and looking out the window of a shuttle bus.  Total AWE.

Met lots of people on the trail.  The camaraderie of a challenge.  Met a family from York, PA.  They had 2 young sons, Parker 7, and Carson 4.  Parker was way ahead on the trail.  Carson was starting to drag.  I stopped to give a little encouragement.  Told him a story about Jay and Tommy when they were little.  Admired his really cool shoes, was sure he could do this with those shoes.  He agreed.  His father gave me a smile.  OMG, I have become THAT old lady.   I love how many families I am seeing - both with young children and with teenagers.  There are also tons of young 20+ year olds.  Lots of families from Japan, France and Belgium, as well.  

The first 2 miles was fine, good path, even though I was climbing, I didn't have to go up steps --- that is what kills my back.  The switchbacks were masterfully done, in my humble opinion.  Then the last half mile......... a narrow path on straight up and down rock, with huge drop offs on both sides.  Thank God, and the National Park system for the chains.  I used them to pull myself up and keep myself balanced.  Could not have done it without them.  Nor could most of the people before and after me on this day.  Everyone was helping everyone.  Humanity at it's best.  The half mile up and back is a one way path, yet it is two way.  As an observer, it was wonderful to watch as we all got it.  We needed to group up and wait.  Allow the group on the other side to have a turn to cross, then the other side had to group, so we could pass.  It really was magnificent.  Only saw one asshole the entire time.  Luckily, he was on his way down..... so his negative energy went flying by.

Stopped to take in the views, eat, drink, catch my breath many times up the trail.  One family that I was constantly passing was a large group.  Two brothers and their wives and kids.  One mother, in particular was hysterical.  She was a tad overweight, but she was damn determined.  She had 2 sons and a daughter.  At one point, she was resting in a place that blocked everyone behind her just slightly, we could still get around.  Her youngest son, was above, calling out, " Mom, come on, you've got to get out of the way" .  She called back, "I can rest here as long as I need too".  As I went by, I said loudly enough so that he could hear --- " Absolutely, You can!"  

As I said, I passed that family a lot.  It was a beautiful sight to watch the kids, the older 2 got it, the youngest son was still like, come on mom.  But all 3 of those kids, waited for their mother to get to each point, with her husband, their father behind her.

When I got to the top, "Angel's Landing" --- I felt like I was on top of the world, even though I have been at higher elevations.  Can't explain it.  I DID IT!  No painkillers yet.

On the way down, I passed the mother just reaching the top.  I asked if I could share something with her.  Of course.   I told her that one of my favorite memories is of going across the sawtooth from Mt Evans to Mt Beirstadt with one son in front of me and one son behind me, making sure I was ok.  Offering a hand if I needed it.  One of my sons died 2 years ago, I just wanted you to know how special what you just did is.  She smiled, nodded, and whispered thank you.  I cried as I started my descent.

Going down was harder than going up.  I took my time.  My back was fine, but my ankle was starting to swell.  I could feel it but it wasn't painful.  I think because I was just so proud of myself.  The Park Service recommends you allow 4 hrs for this roundtrip hike of 5.4 miles.  I took 4 hrs. 20 mins.  

I had made a reservation at Coral Sand Dunes State Park for tonight.  I needed internet to catch up on this blog, I needed Ice for my leg, I needed to not set up a tent, I needed AC.  I am at a Best Western in Kanab, Utah with all of my needs met.  I called Coral Sands, and asked if they would give my site away to the next person that pulled in.  I never did need nor take painkillers, unless a couple of beers count.

 

Wonderful local loop last Thurs.  Four Corners was cool just because it is, but is also sort of ridiculous.  Huge line to take pictures and selfies at the exact spot where Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah meet.  Needless to say, I did not wait in line for that photo op.  I did however, have a nice conversation with one of the concessionaires ----- I had to buy a sticker!  I also met another F800GS rider, so that was fun.  He didn't wait in line either, so we took our own selfie with our bikes.  He was from NY, but keeps his bike in a storage unit in Salt Lake City.  His wife rides too and was flying out the next day.  Actually made a lot of sense, such great adv. riding out west.

The ride to Hovenweep NM became hot as soon as I crossed into Utah.  90's.  Snake weed, sage brush, and Juniper ( which has become one of my favorites ) as far as the eye could see.  Lots of cattle guards and free range signs but only saw horses, no cattle.  Rode through "Canyons of the Ancients" ........  I didn't need a sign to tell me I was back in CO. , and there wasn't one, I was on county gravel roads.  Prairie turned into irrigated farmland.  Alfalfa, wheat straw, and corn.  

Came to an intersection and wasn't sure where I was, I know, I have 2 different maps open to the area I am riding at all times, plus GPS and my phone's google maps and I STILL manage to sometimes be not exactly sure where I am.  A tractor trailer was on fire and the road I thought I wanted to go down was closed.  I detoured around, got myself really turned around, and then had to double back.  As I was pulled off trying to orient myself, I watched as a family in an SUV packed to the gills inside and out with kids, bikes, etc. made an impossible turn for a tractor trailer even more difficult.  He was trying to make a left hand turn from a narrow road into a narrow road -- both gravel, with a ditch inches to the right of where his rear wheels were going to track.  It wasn't pretty.  How hard is it to look ahead and SEE and give someone space?  The SUV screws him up.  He stops so that she can try an inch around him, but no, she just sits there for a couple of minutes and then finally, gets it.

Fri. morning,  I left Cortez, headed for Moab, Utah.  Feeling homesick for the first time, not for home really, but for my traditional beach weekend at "The red house" in Dewey Beach.  This is the weekend Nick Norman from Key West, plays at Nalu Surf Bar.  Two years ago, this event was the first time I left the farm since Tommy's death.  It was so much fun, well except for the massive hangover the next morning.  Besides that it was very healing.  Went again last year, just as much fun, and no massive hangover!  This would have been year three.  Plus, I missed meeting Kelly and Nick's beautiful baby girl.  Hopefully, there will be next year.  Forward........

Rode through Canyonlands on Indian Creek byway, out on Harts Drive Rd., into Manti - La Sal National Forest.  Gorgeous ride.  Temps went from 90's to 70's once I entered the forest.  Hit my reserve fuel about 20 miles outside of Monticello, which I had already been through once, but with the ride through the Canyonlands, I had to loop back this way to get fuel.  I knew it would be close, but I had probably 35 miles to spare.  I don't like going to reserve, I carry a little over a liter of extra fuel..... need to carry more.  

By the time I pulled into Red Stone Inn in Moab, it was 3 pm and almost unbearably hot and dry.  The last 20 mins. of riding, I was not a happy camper.  I should have stopped to put on my cooling vest ( TY Betty) but just decided to push through.  I won't do that again.

Still feeling unsure of myself, wanted to go into the back country of Canyonlands and Arches, but was scared to go by myself.  As I checked in, there was a brochure that called to me, I rarely even look at them.  Tag - a - long Expeditions.  Once unloaded and bike post trip finished, I sat down with a beer and the brochure.  Checked them out online, took the plunge.  Booked a half day into Canyonlands and a half day into Arches.

So much fun!!!!  Jeeping!!!  Two great guides, a different one for each trip.  Same couple all day, Sabrina, a 4th/5th grade math teacher and Bill, a hunter and ex-bull rider ( never even asked what he did to make a living) from Houston, Texas.

Addy took us through Canyonlands in the morning and Chip around Arches in the aft. Learned that Juniper berries are really cones, that Junipers are self pruning, Indian rice grass,  the mormon tea bush was used to get a little speed rush, about biological soil, Navajo sandstone, Entrada sandstone, the uranium rush and Charlie Steen.  Saw where Thelma and Louise went off the cliff at Dead Horse Point SP, and soooooo much cool stuff all day long.  PLUS, lots of adrenaline rushes from 4 wheeling on slickrock, in deep sand, all while being surrounded by beautiful scenery. 

Definitely, a good decision!  

By the way, the temp's all day were wonderful!  Never hot, very unusual in this area for this time of year.  On the way back to town, beautiful thunderstorm.

I am starting to have a hard time keeping track of what day it is, what happened when, and in what order. 

As I headed W on 160 ( section of the legends of the highway loop) off of 25 N out of Trinidad, CO., the smell of Pinyon Pine was everywhere.  As I climbed to 9400 ft. in the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mtns. ( The East Range) the temp. dropped from 85 F to 74 F. AWESOMENESS!!!!  Down into the San Louis Valley with Blanca Peak, one of Colorado's fourteeners http:/www.14ers.com  to my right.  Side note - Jay, Tommy and I climbed Mt. Evans in the Front range with Troop 735 in 2000, the memories of that trip with both of my sons I hope I will never forget.  Past San Louis SP, where Todd and I stayed in our 1953 airstream, Dar Swiya, when we visited Great Sand Dunes NP in 2010.
YES! Colorado --- going into Pagosa Springs, through the Rio Grande and San Juan National Forests, on 160 W after Wolf Creek pass -- so much fun. 
Ok, time to fess up here -- dropped Stormy at Wolf Creek pass.  I misjudged the grade, put the kickstand down, got off, she started to go to left, I overcompensated and she fell to right.  Two nice gentlemen came over to help me get her up.  She took it well, as she always does.  Love my GS.

Stayed in Pagosa Springs at a little place that was definitely a step back in time.  Reminded me of the theme of the airstream that Tommy and I stayed in when we were in Joshua Tree.  

It was a balmy 59 degrees F when I left Pagosa Springs. I was headed up 550, " Million Dollar Highway", for a ride that an old friend highly recommended.  After 50,000 miles, this ride is the most memorable for him.  Butler maps rates most of it as a G1 ride.  The plan was to camp for the night in Ridgway SP.  It just so happened that some old friends who live in Montrose were camping there for the week.  As I headed up 550 from Durango, the temp dropped to 46 degrees F, and there was rain in them there hills.  I pulled over to put my fleece on under my jacket and to switch gloves.  Another motorcyclist pulled up beside me to put his raingear on.  He was from Halifax, nice guy, just traveling around, we didn't get into any real conversation.  So geared up, heated handlebar grips ON,  I know I'm spoiled, off I go.  Just beautiful.......... about 10 miles N of Molas Pass, stopped to take some photos..... within seconds of pulling out, I heard rumbling, then I felt it.  Flat rear tire.  Damn!  Pulled off to safe spot and evaluated my situation.  Couldn't see anything obvious, I pulled out my new air compressor, very glad that I had practiced using it at home.  It worked -- 40 lbs in 10 minutes or so and held for 5.  Off I go, so pleased with myself.  Didn't even make it a mile.  I had very sketchy cell service.  Climbed to the top of a rock grouping and it was a tad better, as long as I didn't move even an inch.  I called BMW 24 hr. rd. service, again happy that I had paid for this contingency in advance.  I knew with tube tires, I was not going to be able to change a tube by myself on the road.  I had used a slime preventative, obviously that didn't work.  My heart was in my throat, I just wanted to get the call through and know that help was on the way.  Wasn't a quick call to a person, had to push numbers to get through a menu, have I mentioned how much I hate doing that.  Finally, I knew help would be to me within 90 minutes.  Then the guy asked me where I wanted it towed, I said I had no idea, could he suggest someplace that could fix a tire.  He was actually really nice, had to put me on hold a couple of times, which made me nervous, I was scared I would move and we'd be disconnected.  I had to be towed back to Durango, a place called Handlebar Motorsports.  He was going to give me the number so I could call them.  My pen and paper were on my bike which was downhill, where I didn't have cell service -- I knew I would't be able to remember 10 #'s.  Grabbed a little piece of rock and wrote the # on another rock, but I had to bend down, again made me very nervous.
Called the shop, they were really nice and would be expecting me, they closed at 5:30.  It was 3:30.  Going to be very close.
Texted Todd and Betty & Jim to let them know what was going on, then took a breath.

I had everything I needed if I had to spend the night.  Stove, tent, food, water, sleeping bag, fire starters, and I was in not only a safe place but an incredibly peaceful, beautiful place.  The picture at the top of this posting is where I was.  Time to enjoy and breathe it all in, but first I decided to hang my red jacket out on the road, as a sign to my tow.  My phone was running out of battery, so I turned it off and plugged it into my mophie charger, while I was waiting.  After an hour, I turned my phone back on and I had missed a call.  It was from my tow driver.  I quickly climbed back up to my spot and called him back.  He was N of Durango but he would be another hour.  I told him to look for the red jacket.  I called Handlebar back and told them I would not be there by closing.  Lane gave me his cell # and said he would wait for me.  How cool was that!

My tow driver was named Ron, very nice young man.  Took us a couple of tries to get Stormy loaded, her back tire kept jumping either left or right of the ramp.  I tried, he tried, I tried again.  Finally with me riding and some very fine clutch/throttle control, I might add, we got her loaded.  The truth is, that Ron had a great idea, he figured out why her back tire kept shifting and he found a rock to help prevent it.  Worked like a charm.

Back to Durango.  Called Lane to let him know that we were on the way, but probably wouldn't be there until close to 7pm.  
When we pulled into Handlebar Motorsports it was 6:50 pm.  I called Lane and he opened the gate and we unloaded Stormy and parked her behind a locked gate for the night.  
Lane Darling, I found out the next day what his last name is, was incredibly kind to me.  There was a Comfort Inn across the street but they were full.  I found the next closest place, thank God for google maps and apps, and booked the last room.  It was 2.3 miles away.  Lane offered to drive me and all my gear there.  He wouldn't take a dime.  This young man, who was tall, thin, blonde, with the face and smile of an angel simply said to me that he was glad he could help.

I felt very vulnerable that night without Stormy outside my window.

The next morning, I called and spoke with the service manager, Brian.  He said the would be looking at my bike in about 15 mins. and he figured they would have everything wrapped up in an hour and a half.  I paced, just praying that it was indeed just a tube or a valve or anything simple.  I called back after an hour and 45 mins.  Brian had the paperwork in his hands, it was a tiny, tiny nail.  They replaced the tube. YAHOO!!!!!  Called a cab, and grabbed my riding gear.  I had paid an extra $10 for late check out.

I just cannot express how kind everyone I met in Durango was to me.  From Ron, to Lane, Jimmy and Brian, to Zack at the Wapiti Lodge ( family owned).  
Jimmy came up to me as I was leaving the shop, he gave me the nail, thought I might like to have it.  Lane wasn't there when I left, so I gave Jimmy some money and asked if he would take Lane out to dinner for me.

Mesa Verde NP exceeded my wildest expectations.  I really wasn't expecting much, but it is a NP and Todd loved it.  I had the best time riding and exploring.  The weather was perfect ---- 73 degrees.  

I am now in Cortez, CO.  Spent last night here and am going to stay another night.  Plan to do a local loop ride, over to four corners monument and Hovenweep National Monument.

The last two days were incredible.  I left Yukon, OK under sunshine, with a soaring heart.  I hit the Oklahoma panhandle and quickly discovered that the day was going to be about Jay and flying.  I was headed NW and W --- the wind was from the S.  They were constant and pushing.  I was in a lean to the left all day.  Brought back a memory of trying to land my Cessna 150 in a heavy crosswind on a grass field in Westminster when I was learning to fly.  
I thought I understood about 18 wheeler drafts and washes until today.  When a tractor trailer and I would pass going in opposite directions on a 2 lane byway, I felt like my brakes went on all by themselves and then within seconds, I was shot out of a cannon.  I wonder if there is a diagram somewhere with little arrows that shows all the forces at work.  Like the ones they use to describe flight - lift, thrust, weight and drag.
I pulled off to fuel and decided to have a cheese stick and some nuts.  As I'm leaning on Stormy, observing life go by, I look over and there is a car parked right next to me with the license plate JAY.  See photo below.  The next time I pulled in to fuel up, as I was leaving town, there was a plane in the air that looked just like the little bi-plane that Jackie made for Jay when he was a toddler, "Top Gun".  I had to turn around to get a picture of that!

Driving across the Oklahoma panhandle is straight, really straight, runway straight.  So I did something, I rarely do.  I put in my earbuds and pulled up a playlist --- Louis Armstrong, Bonnie Raitt, Rodney Crowell, Kenny Chesney, Allman Brothers, The Doors, Steve Winwood, Tyler Lyle, Sam Cooke, Nick Norman, Chris Isaak, Little Feat, O.A.R., Lee Brice, Ritchie Valens, Billy Currington, Guy Clark, Ryan Adams, Medicine Wheel, Bruce Springsteen, etc.  I set my throttle lock to 10 miles an hour under the speed it took for that little cessna 150 to take off and Stormy and I went dancing down the road.  Singing out loud!!!!  So much fun.  Then I saw a sign, a physical sign, that said "Hitchhikers may be escaped inmates".  I laughed out loud until there were tears coming out of my eyes and I had to stop because I couldn't see. It was wonderful.

I spent the night in Guymon, OK.  Once known as "No Man's Land", it is still mostly ranching but it is booming.  They will be hosting an international bull riding competition on July 25th.  Apparently of the top 10 bull riders in the world, 8 of them are Brazilian.  An American is #2, I forget his name, he says that for the Brazilians, this is a career, they see it as a way to make a living and do not come into town ready to party.  Some others claim they use different ropes that are bad for the bulls and take too long in the shoot.

The next morning, I went out to check on my bike and there were 2 bikes parked behind me, (pic).  Enjoyed a conversation with one couple.  They were on their way home from Santa Fe.  As is usual, we checked out each other's bikes and shared stories and stuff.  They had had a blow out once, had serious injuries, they both now where helmets.  He also got something, that I'll look into when I get home, it's made by Doran, but it basically lets you know if your tire pressure increases enough to indicate a blow out could be imminent. They have ridden in all 50 states, Alaska being the last state.  It cost them $1300 to ship their bike to Fairbanks and then they rode home.  He said I had the perfect bike for Denali, they couldn't go to a lot of places they wanted to.  I agreed, said that's exactly why I got this bike, but also noted their comfortable cushioned back rests and drink holders.  It is a choice.  There is no one best ride!

From Guymon, I headed to Capulin Volcanic National Monument.  Sun still shining.  Met a young man at a fuel stop.  He was on a Suzuki VSTROM.  We seemed to be on a similar journey, he was headed to Telluride from OK.  It was supposed to be a trip that he was going to take with his cousin and best friend.  No wives or kids.  His cousin committed suicide last year.  We both had tears in our eyes as I gave him a hug and pulled out.
As I was driving down the road, I asked myself why I didn't get a picture.  I almost turned around, but didn't.  
Miles down the road I pull into a rest stop after I had crossed into NM.  As I was starting to leave, guess who pulls in.  Yep, my new friend, Jeff.  I had my helmet on and was getting ready to leave, I had the only shady spot.  Then, lightbulb went off, picture, duh!  I took off my helmet and asked him if we could get a pic.  He said he had the same thought back at the gas station. (See below).

I was making a left turn into Capulin Volcano and Jeff made a right turn into the entrance.  I had taken a back road, he had come in from the highway.  He didn't know I was going there, he saw a sign from the highway and just decided to turn in.  I love the universe.  We spent another 15 minutes talking at the top of the volcano.  After exchanging contact info., I had given him stickers at first meeting, but I didn't have his, we hugged goodby and he took off and I went for a hike.

I am now in Trinidad, CO.  Came in from 25, where I passed a "Jay Flight" camper.

Can't wait to see what today brings.

Yesterday, Stormy and I traveled in sunshine.  Mostly 412W, called the "Cherokee Turnpike " here, into Tulsa where I picked up Rt. 66.  My favorite stops on the way were the Seaba Station Motorcycle Museum in Warwick and the Round Barn in Arcadia.  The motorcycle museum was just plain fun ---- everywhere I looked there was something to look at.  Not in an overwhelming way, like when I walk into a Wegman's or a Walmart superstore.  It was peaceful, quiet and just there.  Met 2 riders on Harleys, we chatted about our sons and at what age that switch clicks on when they "get it" and stop making stupid choices.  
Lisa 9R, I could hear your voice in my head as I walked around the museum-- Suzuki RM 125 in one spot -- walked a couple of steps --- Gary Nixon leathers.... photos below.

The real reason I came to Oklahoma City was to meet a man.  I had talked with him on the phone a couple of times, but needed to see him, to let him know in person that I am not angry at him. That I forgive him.  I know that he did not go out on June 12th with the intention of killing my son.  It was a tragic, tragic accident.  One that has forever changed many, many lives.
He met me at Soda Pops, another iconic Rt.66 stop.  I had been apprehensive about finally meeting him.  Would pent up anger that I thought wasn't there anymore bubble to the surface, would I just want to go pound him a couple of times with my fists?  None of those things happened.  We started with a handshake and pulled into a light hug. Admired each others motorcycles, he had painted a memorial to Tommy on the fender of his white Harley, and went into soda pops for a cup of coffee.
He led me into town, even giving me quarters for the ridiculous toll system here.  You have to have change --- no other way.  What motorcyclist carries loose change in an easy to get to spot?  He had booked and paid for a room at a Hampton.  He left me to get settled why he went home to get his truck.  Took me out for BBQ and suggested I try the fried Okra.  It was incredible.  We learned more about each other, our families, talked of the draft, Vietnam, guns in schools, depression.  He had offered to take me where ever I wanted to go.  I originally thought I wanted to go into Oklahoma City and see the Memorial, but I was tired, mostly emotionally.  So he took me on a quick scenic tour to see a restored barn on a HUGE beautiful cattle ranch, picture Sagamore Farm, for cattle.  Coolest turn out sheds I have ever seen.  We hugged goodbye outside my hotel.  He is a disabled veteran of Vietnam, a father of 3 sons, a husband and a gentleman.  He was, still is and will always be devastated by the events of that June aft.  I am hoping that this meeting was healing for us both.