I'd like to thank everyone who reached out to our family and me via texts, phone calls, and social media yesterday.  "The day" as one of my friends, who also lost a child, calls it, does not get easier with time.  I spent yesterday alone, by choice.  It started with a beautiful group text started by Ary, including our nuclear family and a couple of close friends who while not related to us are indeed family.  We were all hurting and it was nice to share the hurt with good memories and humor.  I'm not a talker, except when I drink Vodka, so I enjoyed my aloneness.  The trick was to distract myself for as long as possible so I didn't focus on the phone call.  While weeding, I reflected on the past weekend.  

Lisa and I rode up to Woodward, PA to meet Sara and RP for AltRider's "Conserve the Ride" event.  It was a dual sport/ADV bike ride through and around Bald Eagle State Forest.  Beautiful 110 mile scenic ride on mostly gravel roads with 10 options, that added more mileage.  The options got progressively harder, except for option 10 which was more scenic.  You could choose to stop doing options anytime you felt like it.  The course was well marked for the most part.  There was one point where it strayed from the GPS tracks because a bridge was out.  And that's where we lost 9R and Ed.  Sara was shooting from the sidecar, while RP was piloting a new gear up URAL.  They had to rescue me on option 1.  My skid plate hit a big rock ; I was going too slow, over I went.  Lesson learned on that one, I picked up my speed on the next  options.  My Black Dog skid plate got it's first real work out on these rock options and came through with flying colors.  I learned a lot and am happy to report, I only dropped Stormy on that first option.  I actually got into the sounds of the rocks hitting my plate - felt like a BadAss.  

We finally met back up with 9R at the lunch stop.  She was not happy.  Ed had crashed his Africa Twin and was done.  She'd been waiting for us for two hours.  Lunch was catered and was excellent.  A half an hr. later the four of us were on the road together again. Mid 70's and sunshine - WHOO HOO!!!! This is why we came -  to hang out together.  A great, fun day.  After a while, Sara and RP found a beautiful place to do some filming; They were here to review the Ural.  9R and I took off and proceeded to get lost.  A lot.  We just can't help ourselves -- hahahaha.  Had a GPS, maps, arrows, and still we miss turns.  We ended up going right past camp, so we pulled in to go to the bathroom and regroup.  Finally got back on track and had a blast -- we stopped doing options after four.  Out of shape and knowing my limits, I did not want to hurt myself  - we leave on August 9th to ride in Africa.  Actually, we did do option 10 --- fun.  At one stop, Lisa leans over and says, I want to do this everyday.  She was having a blast on Shadow.  

She was rocking those gravel roads for sure.  I stayed way behind so I didn't eat dust.  Wink, wink.  No way I was going to keep up with her.  No way I was going to try.  We both had a blast riding our ride.
Stopped in town to get some beer and ice to take back to camp.  Walked into the bar and they had two big screen TV's showing flat track.  You can imagine the scene that resulted.  Instant bar friends.

One of the highlights of the day was captured by Sara.  It's the cover photo above.  I was at the bottom of an option and was waiting for them.  A black butterfly with turquoise and coral coloring on its inner wings landed on my gloves and just sat there.  My phone and thus my camera was dead.  As the Ural pulled up behind me, the butterfly just sat there.  As Sara walked towards my bike to take a photo, the butterfly flew up and low all around Stormy, almost outlining her, and then landed back on my glove and just sat there, posing.  Tommy was reminding me, he was with me. 

After my reflections and weeding, I started out reading and ended up in bed with my covers pulled over my head.  I missed my boy and I cried.  I wondered what Roy was doing today.  If he even remembered the date, I was sure he did.  The son, one of three, that he was visiting when he hit Tommy, was married now.  Wonder if Tommy would have gotten married.  He would be 30 next month.  I wanted to call Roy but just couldn't bring myself to do it.  My big girl pants were in the wash.  Got myself out of bed, played with the dogs, made a fire, not for the radiant heat but for the emotional warmth, and watched Stephan Colbert - we record his late night shows.  Actually, Todd does.  I was grateful.

A friend of mine posted this on my FB page  - I just love these words together.
"Glad you can share some of Tommy's life with your rides and adventures, reaching back and moving forward at the same time - 
A fitting tribute on this 5th anniversary that carved a different path for your tender Mother's heart - God's peace"     Lisa Loper

​

My mother and I celebrate Mother's Day on May 9th.  We have ever since 1978.  The year after my brother, Jody, committed suicide.  It is comforting somehow to remember together.  Until my son died in 2013, I really didn't "get it".  Sure I miss my brother, but not like I miss my son.  It is different, it just is.  So now, my mother and I share the loss of our sons.  It is a special bond,  an unspoken understanding of pain that when shared somehow helps brighten the moment.  
So on the real Mother's Day,  I have no expectations of not being loved because Jay, Ary, or India don't call.  Which makes it all the sweeter when they do.  Actually, this year, India's card made me cry, it was a sappy card but she wrote a beautiful note that made the words personal and real.  Jay actually called me on Mon. the 7th to say Happy Mother's Day.  I had to laugh.  A Mon.?  REALLY?  It was still wonderful to hear his voice.  Ary's text came first thing and made me smile.  
I was doing what makes me happy --- riding my motorcycle.  The yellows of early Spring - forsythia and daffodils - have waned, giving way to the purples, pinks, and whites - lillacs,  azaleas, dogwoods - of late spring.  The smells as I ride through the countrysides of Maryland - autumn olive, honeysuckle, wisteria, grasses -- make me so glad to be alive.
That was on Sat.  On Mother's Day this year, it was wet and cold -- good gear makes ALL the difference in staying happy while riding in less than perfect weather.
As I headed home from Ocean City, I was comfortable and lost in thought.  I was thinking about a conversation I had last night with a young woman I hadn't met before. Not sure  how it started but she asked me if I would mind going with her to the outside bar to talk.  We talked so long that her husband came out to see if we were ok.  After our conversation, she told me that she was meant to meet me this weekend, I had a lot she needed to hear.  Turns out, I felt the same way.  I was reminded how lucky I am that I was able to get to know Tommy.  There are times when 25 years is not nearly enough time, but it is all perspective isn't it.  What if I never got to know him at all.  What if I only heard his heartbeat.  What if that was true over and over again. 
Where did Mother's Day come from anyway?  Is it really just a fake holiday made up by Hallmark?  A google search tells me that in 1914, Woodrow Wilson signed a proclamation designating the second Sun. in May as a day to honor mothers.  
A woman named Anna Jarvis apparently campaigned for a day to honor mothers, for her mother, who died on May 9th, 1905.  WOW!  The first Mother's Day celebration was held in Grafton, West Virginia at Andrews Methodist Episcopal Church in 1908.
Interestingly,  she hated how the holiday became commercialized and was arrested for her protests against florists.  She died in 1948 in a sanitarium.  Another WOW.
The universe is indeed surprising in it's parallels.
Here is a card I bought -- just reminded me of past Mother's Days and good times.

Today is the 4th anniversary of Tommy's death.  The phone call seems like yesterday, it was a Wed., the spot I was standing in etched forever in my mind's eye.  What doesn't seem like yesterday is Tommy's voice.  I forget what he sounded like, his voice, the intonations that matched his eyes.  I am forever thankful for today's technology.  I have recordings, I have videos.  I can see and hear him.  I am transported back in time, I smile, I remember.

I don't remember how long after my father and brother died that I forgot what they sounded like, but I do recall how guilty I felt when I realized their voices were gone from my head.  I was devastated --- how could I forget?  I couldn't forget them, I wouldn't.  But I was.  I was my father's girl, I think that made it harder.  If honest, my sister was actually closer to my brother than I was.  I was the oldest and an island.  Therapy helped me to sort out my feelings of guilt.  
But forgetting what a father or a brother sounds like is, for me, completely different than forgetting the voice of a child.  The hole doesn't get smaller ----there are still times when I could just go to my bed, pull the covers over my head and shut out the world, the truth, the pain.  But I don't - I have the support of family and friends- people that I love, soooo I plan my next motorcycle adventure.......... It is what keeps me alive.  My son rides with me and I feel the connection.  I am so thankful, that as long as I have my hearing, I will be able to hear Tom.

Last Thursday after my morning bus run, I decided to walk outside in the sunshine before going to the gym.  My intention was to raise my energy vibration level.  The air, the sun, and being able to sing out loud all help to increase my vibrations.  I parked at the gym, put on my headphones, clicked on a playlist that I last listened to when I was riding through the Nevada desert, and off I went.  I was about a mile in and a book in the road caught my eye.  I passed it and then thought to myself, that it had something to say to me.  I went back and read the page it was opened to, It did indeed have a message for me. I just smiled, looked up and said Thank You.  I had originally planned to only go two miles, but was so wrapped up in thinking about the poem and it's message to me that I just kept walking.  I really should have brought some water with me, I thought to myself.  A half a mile later, I passed a bottle of water lying on the side of the road.  Light bulb --- that was for me.  I went back.  It was unopened.  Definitely for me -- WOW and WOW.  I picked it up opened it and drank.  I must admit, I first took just a little taste before really drinking.  Once again, I found myself looking up and saying Thank You. 

This was the fourth Christmas without Tommy.  I think the reason this one was so hard is because I had no mission in place.  Christmas 2013, I was still in shock but I was hatching my plan to do a charity ride across the country in his honor.  Christmas 2014, I was still working on my plans for my ride.  Christmas 2015, I had done Tom's Moms Ride.  I was feeling content. It was a powerful ride and I was healed.  Little did I realize.  This year I just felt empty.  I some times feel guilty about this feeling - I am so lucky to have Jay, India, and Ary.  I think sometimes, they want to be enough for me. They try to understand, they have their own feelings of loss to deal with.  When Jay, India, and Ary are together, I miss Tommy even more, as I loved the four of them together. They were teams.  Jay and India - Ary and Tommy. And then the teams would switch - brothers vs sisters, brothers there for sisters, sisters there for brothers.  So much fun together.  We still have a lot of fun together but a huge part is missing.  The dynamic has shifted.  They are occupied with their lives, their careers, their growing family -- and that is wonderful -- as it should be.  But I just keep wondering what Tommy would have wanted for Christmas this year.  His brother and sisters are aging and he is still 25.  Kenny Chesney's words became even more poignant this year.  " Who You'd Be Today"  The good news is that I was finally able to take a proper photograph of the three of them.  That represents healing to me.
​  

Tommy will forever be 25, I can't stand that.   Last weekend India and I went to one of his close friends 30th surprise party.  He has become like a son to Todd and me and we are so happy to have him be a part of our lives, part of our family.  I heard lots of stories of Tommy that I hadn't heard before, some made me cry, most made me laugh, all made me thankful.  Brian and Ashley are going to be married in November.  Nick and Tori have a baby, beautiful Scarlett, who will soon be a year old.  Johnny and Dom were married shortly after Tommy's death, they are now expecting.  Matt and Ashley were married two days after Tom's death.  Caleigh and Rick have two children that Tommy will never meet.  He was uncle Tom to their first one.  He was at their wedding, but he will never be able to stand with his other friends at their weddings or meet their babies. India and Bill's baby is due March 25th.  He will never be able to hold his nephew, he would have been such a great uncle.  I just can't stand that.
And so, as much as I think I have a handle on this grief thing, I realize I have a long way to go. 
Have to share Matt's story -- They were working on a science project in the living room.  They had a fire going and Tommy asked Matt to go out on the porch and get some wood.  Matt was in bare feet and started to complain.  Tommy, " Dude, the front porch stones are heated."  Matt believed him and out he went.  I can hear Tommy laughing.

It was a cool 85 degrees and overcast when I headed East on I-80 mid-morning.  Listening to the Dixie Chicks, " Wide Open Spaces" -- all I could see was white space in all directions. For 42 miles, I only saw white --- eventually, I started to see growth starting but could still tell there was salt underneath.  While all I saw was salt flats, in the very far distance there were mtns. Newfoundland to the left of me, Cedar to the right of me and Lakeside to the right and front -- The Great Salt Lake was directly to the front (East) of me.  There is an outside art installation there called "The Spiral Jetty".  It was created by Nancy Holt's ( Sun Tunnels) husband.  It's on my list but will have to wait until another day.  I'm ready to get off the road.
On the advice of Betty, I avoided SLC and headed SE on 36.  Stopped to get fuel as soon as I exited.  The same group/gang of Hell's Angels were there that were at the hotel I stayed in last night.  I saw them this morning as I was loading Stormy.  There were a couple that were loud and obnoxious, they def. were not interested in talking with me but the majority of them were low key. Much different experience than the last time I was with a group of Hell's Angels in a bar N of San Francisco.  The Jody West band was playing for a charity they were supporting -- the bikers were friendly and protective --- but then I was " with the band".  We are talking 35 years ago?  WOW!  Anyway, at this stop I stood by Stormy, parked off to the side, and watched as they left.  Funny thought --- why do you usually see riders of Harley's in groups and BMW riders solo?  Something to ponder.  As they went past me, I nodded.  I got 3 nods back --- not bad.
36 was a pleasant ride -- pulled over in the little town of Vernon, UT to change my playlist.  I was at a crossroads by a general store 36/Castagno Rd.  Castagno Rd was gravel, every 30 seconds a pick -up truck, or 4 wheeler came up the gravel road and turned left in front of me.  Without exception, every single driver waved, nodded, smiled, asked how I was.  What a wonderful way to be.  I got back on the road feeling loved.
I was pushing to make it to Wellington for the night, but as I got of of 15N and headed E on 6, a huge storm appeared.  Really huge!  It was close to 4pm, so I got a room for the night in Spanish Fork.  Lots of eating options within walking distance -- opted for Mexican take-out.  No alcohol served, so back to my room and my cooler --- I was prepared for Utah.
The next morning, I looked at my maps and thought about a couple of options but a voice in the back of my head kept saying -- just beeline for Montrose.  Montrose is where I am meeting my husband, Todd.  Old Friends, Betty and Jim Ebrecht are hosting the group HCMB's Navy re-union.  Come to find out -- Betty had been sending telepathic messages to me to come early and recharge before the festivities started.  I am so glad I received and listened to them.  Was able to get the salt off of Stormy - mostly, anyway - and sleep the sleep I needed -- safe in a cool, dark, room with dr.'s orders not to come upstairs before noon.  Very much needed and appreciated.  AND, I arrived to rib eye's on the grill!! My favorite.
I did wonder through Colorado National Monument on my way.  Rode historic Rim Rock Drive from the West entrance at Fruita to the East entrance in Rosedale outside of Grand Junction.  #22 on Butler's Colorado Map - it is classified as a G1 ride. "While Colorado often conjures images of rocky peaks, rusty mines and alpine passes, Colorado National Monument blends sandstone towers towers and red rock landscapes akin to southern Utah."  And no crowds!
Can't wait for Todd, Ary, Remus, and Sophie to arrive!  Tonight or tomorrow.........Let the party begin..........

Yesterday was a much needed, relaxing, and fun day of adventure.  I stayed two nights at the Best Western in Wendover so that I could go day tripping without a load.  Speaking of tripping, why is the desert so conducive to taking hallucinogens?  I have pondered this question for the last couple of days as I have been doing a lot of riding in the California/Nevada/Utah Deserts.  Yesterday, it occurred to me that perhaps it's because our perspective is already compromised -- or at least different.  I see mirages in the desert, my imagination goes into overdrive, my sense of smell is heightened -- if there was even an inkling of shade -- I'd sit and just breathe in the aromatic sage.  Then there is the stillness, yet at the same time, movement is faster without seeming so.  Without a load, I found myself going much faster yesterday than I am normally comfortable with and yet I felt like I was barely moving.  There is nothing to use as a gauge for speed.  And then there are the clouds --- the day before yesterday, I saw a spaceship in the clouds.  Yesterday, in one cloud, I saw the flying dragon from "The NeverEnding Story", my Doberman, Jackson lying on his back, and then a baby chick.  
Anyway, back to my day.  Visiting the "Sun Tunnels" has been on my bucket list for a few years now.  I don't remember how/where I even heard of them, but when I did, I knew I had to go. They are four concrete tubes laid out in an X.  Two line up with the rising and setting sun of the summer solstice and two with the winter solstice.  Each tube has varying diameter holes drilled into them, forming four constellations that you can see inside the tubes in daylight.  Draco, Perseus, Columbia, and Capricorn.  Nancy Holt finished the installation in 1976.  She purchased 40 acres outside of Lucin, Utah -- an abandoned railroad community, now a ghost town --- in the Great Basin Desert.  The only thing even close is a big ranch that you can barely see in the distance.  The roads in are dirt, gravel and sand.  Basically close to 13 miles one way.  No road signs and lots of spurs.  There were small artfully done signs that let me know I was on the right track.  Very reassuring! I was super careful -- only one other time have I gone off road by myself -- that was in the Great Smoky Mtn. NP -- but there was shade, and I had camping gear and fire starters with me.  I felt very exposed on this trip in. I kept repeating to myself the lessons I had been taught by Shawn Thomas at "RawHyde" and just recently practiced with Trevor and some sisters off-road in Kodachrome State Park.  Once there, I was so excited.  Stormy and I had done it!!  This artwork had been on my radar for a reason --- inside the tunnels was so cool - temperature wise.  I just sat and looked out.  Peace.  No one else around. Nothingness but light coming through drilled holes forming a pattern.  Looking out the round tunnel brought the sky and the earth into the same frame.  It was the first time I have really reacted to an outside art installation and it is something I want to do again.  
Then we had to go back.  HA! Directionally challenged as I am, you would think I would remember even the first road I came in on.  I originally started in the right direction, but then doubted myself, turned around and went about a mile down another road -- no didn't feel right, my head was turned to see the tunnels coming in -- eventually, I figured it out -- but I added a couple of miles and some anxiety to the trip.
Once back on pavement, I was feeling quite full of myself.  Off to the Bonneville Salt Flats and The Bonneville Speedway.  Erin Hunter Sills had been on the "Sisters Ride".  Beautiful, well spoken, sincere and supportive.  I was inspired to see where she made and broke records.
Fun to go out on the salt.  Saw all kinds of donuts -- guess who I thought of?  Both of my sons, boy would they have had some fun.
Met a young man from Florida, Jeremy and his mostly Harley motorcycle, "Grandpa".  He was from Florida, had ridden to Santa Cruz to see family and was on his way home via SLC to get a front fork fixed.  He had hit a metal highway pole --- he was lucky he only needed a front fork replaced.  His nickname was J-Bird.  I loved that.
Stopped in at the Salt Flats Cafe because apparently you just have to, and then headed to Historic Wendover Field, a WWII Army Air Force base.  Just thought I'd take some photos for Jay. ( See FB for photos ).

Misc. Thoughts
Wonder what the numbers are -- ATV's per person in Nevada
​

I am currently back in Ely, NV, just in a different hotel --- I miss the ambience of the Historic Nevada but here at La Quinta, Stormy is parked right outside my room and I don't have to deal with stairs/elevator.  I was going to try and make it to Wendover yesterday, but on the easiest route, I still manage to miss a turn.  Didn't realize it until I saw the welcome sign for California --- Damn good play list -- all I'm going to say on that.  
When we left Ely just a couple of days ago, we traveled rt. 50, " The Lonliest Highway in America".  I believed that to be true until yesterday.  Rt 6 from Coaldale to Ely is the lonliest stretch I've ever been on.  I can count the # of vehicles I saw on 2 hands.  The majority of those were NevadaDOT trucks.  The only places where it looked like there might be life was in 2 different cluster of blue houses and maintenance garages -- all belonging to NDOT.  The road was very well maintained and not one piece of litter.  I tried for a long time to find some, kept my mind occupied.  There was no place to fuel, even using my spare container of fuel, I pulled into a Shell station in Ely with 43 miles on my reserve gauge.  I usually get 45 mpg, although at altitude I'm getting 48-50mpg.  Either way, I was seriously worried.  104 degrees and no shade --- I did not want to walk!  Stormy pulled through once again.  
There were some interesting sites along this stretch of road --- there was  the Columbus salt marsh outside of Coaldale.  There was no sign, but my map says that's what it was.  Outside of Hawthorne, where I spent last night, were acres of barrack type buildings.  A sign said they were a part of the Hawthorne Army Ammunition Plant.  There were also dirt hogan type buildings with a concrete entrance going underground and a single smokestack coming out of the top.  There were a lot of them.  Don't know what they were.
Outside of Tonapah ( isn't there an Emmylou Harris song about with Tonapah in it?), there was a flight testing area -- a  pretty robin egg's blue rocket marked that dirt road.  Ahhh, the Nevada desert.
​I have gotten back into my alone mode.  When I left San Francisco without Lisa, I was homesick and shaky.  After I crossed the Bay Bridge into Oakland, there was a fully engulfed pick up truck on the side of the road -- response on the way -- I could hear sirens as I sped by.  Freaked me out -- my mind started focusing on all the things that can go wrong.  Stopped that train immediately -- zippity do da, what a wonderful day -- mom and tom --- does it everytime!
Spent my first night alone in Groveland, CA at Hotel Charlotte, 2 rooms left --one off to the side with a queen - but very small.  The other one had twin beds.  I took the queen and it was perfect.  I felt like I could stay there for days.  The Iron Door Saloon was right across the very narrow street and it's local beer was Thompson's Ale.  Nice, friendly people.  I asked if my room was open for another night -- it wasn't --- not meant to be.  Onward to Yosemite and the most beautiful surprise -- Mono Lake!

68.9 degrees as we rode through Red Canyon in Dixie National Forest, Thurs. morning.  On 89 W into and out of Panguitch, Utah, there were acres upon acres of irritigated pasture and alfalfa, fields of horses and cattle, mostly separated.  The smell of freshly mown alfalfa was strong and I loved it.  The greenest large, square bales I have ever seen, stacked and covered.  
As we went through the little town of Beaver, 2 young boys, I'm guessing 4 and 6, were walking barefoot down the road with their grandmother ( again guessing).  As we went by -- I saw the most enthusiastic thumbs up from both of them.  Brought back memories and warmed my heart.
Through Milford, home of World Champion Saddle Bronco Riders and into Baker for fuel and lunch.  Great chicken caesar pita sandwich. Named T&D's after it's owners Terry and Debra, it reminded Lisa of the "Whistlestop Cafe".  Along with the owners there was a young waitress that was saving for college -- reminded us of Ruth.
After lunch, we stopped in at Great Basin NP --- home of the Lehman Caves and protector of the world's oldest living trees, Bristlecone Pines. When I have time, I want to look into that more deeply.  There are different classifications for oldest.  According to Wikimedia Commons --   A Bristlecone pine named Methuselah in California's Whie Mtns is the oldest non-clonal tree in the world.  It's exact location is a secret for protection.  But I thought one of the Giant Sequoias -- General Sherman or Grant held the title of oldest.  Hmmmm --- no time to investigate right now.  
Spent the night in Ely, NV  - home of the bathtub races.  We stayed at the historic Hotel Nevada and Gambling Hall.  Themed rooms - Jimmy Stuart, Gary Cooper, Ingrid Bergman, Mickey Rooney, Kit Carson.  The Halls of each floor were covered with old Wild West memorabilia.  Hand plows, hitches, traps, lanterns, saddles.  One floor was dedicated to motorcycles, mostly Harley's.  Fun, funky and old -- we had a great time.  The Mayor of Ely came to dinner and gave us all our own "official survival guide and passport" for NV Highway 50 -- the loneliest highway in America.  Apparently, in 1986, Life magazine described NV 50 as such and said their were no attractions or points of interest along the 287 mile stretch and recommended that drivers have " survival skills " to travel the route.  Nevada put a positive spin on this article and now has a passport that can be stamped along the way.  This highway follows the old pony express route.  It is lonely, and hot in July, but it is historic and everyone along the way was friendly.  As the passport says, " If you consider yourself a traveler, rather than a tourist, if you welcome the twists and turns that come with a new adventure, then this belt of Nevada highway was paved just for you".
We took our time leaving Ely.  It was 80 degrees, 77 in the Mtn passes.  Saw 2 patches of Black eyed Susan's.  Started thinking of my brother.  Robert and Sara rode with us in Robert's Indian and sidecar.  They did some filming of us while we were riding and then an interview by an old general store in Eureka.  It was shaded and quiet.  It is also, another place I dropped Stormy -- see 9R's wresting pic on FB. LOL.  We had lunch in Austin at a great little place called Cafe International.  Met a 9 yr. old girl sitting at the counter on a stool.  Her name was Chloe.  She was learning how to cook and she was good with money.  We told her about the sister's ride, she thought her mother would be interested, so we gave her a card.  She looked at the word Centennial and said, " the T gives that word it's life, it is it's soul".  We were blown away.  Our angel.  Sara later looked up what the name Chloe meant.  It is Greek and means "Young shoot, new growth -- a powerful name for a spirited woman".  It fit perfectly.
Before lunch and after our interview, as we started to take off, my gear shifter fell off. ---- Luckily the torq screw was still in it and I had tools.  Robert put it back on for me, as I sat on stormy to make sure it was in the right position.  Of course, it took 3 times to determine that.  Everyone was patient and this time we used loctite.  
Outside of Austin, we dropped down onto 722. -- it was cooler and more interesting -- went through a couple of passes which was fun.  I hung back and watched Robert and 9R play.  We saw fires, and watched Mountain Goats that climbed sheer rock cliffs.  We stopped at the shoe tree..... See photos on FB for these days.  We passed a mountain of sand that reminded me of the dunes in Corolla, NC.
As we did the last 52 mile stretch on 50 into Carson City, the road was pushing up heat, the sun was in our faces and I saw 4 riders.  In front was Dad, then his grandson, my son, Tommy.  Next was my brother, Jody, and me.  We rode together -- a dream come full circle.  No words.
Pulled into Carson City around 5:30 --- long day, we were hot and tired.  There were a lot of riders joining the ride here to go into San Francisco tomorrow.  There was a meet and greet at 7 --- but we still had work to do on our own bikes and 73 yr. old Holly from Canada had asked 9R for some help with her chain.  We decided to fore go the meet and greet and just take our time.  Tomorrow would be crazy, best to be calmly prepared.  Around 8, LISA headed downstairs to pick up the dinner I had ordered.  She texted me, get down here immediately ---NOW --- Hurry.......  I head down in my sweats, t-shirt without bra and flip flops --- as I walk into the room -- Lisa yells my name and everyone starts clapping, I get pulled up for my AWARD.  Embarrassed but overwhelmed with gratitude --- all cross country riders received a medal.  9R got a standing ovation when she got hers --- she was thanked for her service.  Very cool, very thoughtful.
Today was the day.  We would complete "The Sisters Centennial Ride" in San Francisco.
Today was Tommy's birthday.  This morning, I read that one of my schoolmates lost her daughter to a post childbirth infection.  Insanity.  My mind was reeling as we headed W towards Lake Tahoe State Park.  Low 60's --- beautiful ride through pines around the lake.  Headed up to Donner Pass --- temps dropped to 50's -- I had to turn on my hand grip heaters.
Once in CA, there were the familiar brown velvet hills dotted with oaks.  But the brown was actually more of a mix between camel hair and straw --- very light and dry.  Could smell the dryness.  I felt home.  I love California, but I hate the traffic. I-80 was a mess.  One big rig breakdown, and accidents put us really behind schedule.  Again with lane splitting options --- still too wide with panniers and still uncomfortable.  Again, we went down the shoulder of the road in 1st and 2nd gears.  Once on 37, we were fine, until the Mare Island Causeway.  We pulled off to regroup --- figured out that even with the 20 min. Back-up it was the fastest way.  By this point, we were pretty sure we would miss the group photo and the staging to cross the Golden Gate Bridge.  At this point, we just wanted to finish the ride safely.  Deep breath and onward. We rode the shoulder over the causeway as well ---- beautiful orange CA. Poppies welcomed and encouraged our progress. 
We made it to Ft. Baker in time --- craziness. --- dancing, screaming, hugging, crying.  We were not the last in, still one more.  We were staged for photo and they rolled in to our cheers!
The San Francisco Motorcycle Club led us over the bridge and around and through the city and eventually to their clubhouse on Folsom St., where they had a beautiful spread set up for us.  I originally thought it was 100 plus bikes, but it was closer to 250 going through red lights and stop signs --- The club did an amazing job of blocking.   So cool to ride to and along the Pacific Ocean and smell the sea and salt air.  Past the Cliff House -- that triggered some memories of a beach party -- some 36 years ago?
Lisa and I made our way to our hotel on Van Ness.  Parking was in a garage and there were cars and motorcycles backed up and blocking movement.  It was a cluster f..., if ever there was one.  People were yelling and honking.  Everyone was exhausted and on an emotional roller coaster.  Pete, the husband of Cathy, one of the cross country riders and a friend we made along the way, was doing a great job of trying to clear up the flow into the garage. Something the hotel staff should have been doing, in my humble opinion. The problem was that you needed a key to get into the garage --- couldn't get a key until you checked in --- then it was discovered you didn't need a key, just had to push another button and take that ticket with you when you checked in......... Anyway, I parked out of the way --- and checked us in, Niner went around the gate, lol. And found us a place to park in the garage.  
Party at the Dainese D-Store on S. Van Ness.  Really fun!!! We left our bikes parked and ubered.  We got there late but before closing speeches. Free beer and food, Trevor ( ColoradoAdvMoto)  was there as we walked in --- he said there is a really tall gorilla walking around here somewhere.  I was so excited -- Another one of my favorites from Rawhyde who now works for BMW Mottorad and Adventure Brothers.  Shawn Thomas!  Big Hugs --- his daughter Hailey had ridden up with him.   He carried me on the back of his bike for 2 hrs. In Feb. of 2015, when I broke my leg.  That's another story.
Great, Great time ---- 9R presented Alisa, this ride was her dream, with a US Flag that she had flown in Afghanistan.  The timing was perfect -- she jumped in right after Alisa presented "Final Salute" with a check.  Very emotional.
Goodbye's and questions ---- where do we go from here.



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