It has not been a fun task, writing the final chapter of the 'Golden Tour'. Granted the entire purpose of this blog is to serve as a memoir of sorts, call it a repository of photographic memories, enabling me to return, days, months, even years later and reminisce with a clarity which remains as precise as when the memories were made. Despite all that, I do miss my family and wish the tour could have just continued on. Writing about this last leg of our trip together, thus, puts me in a somewhat pensive mood.
We had a bit of a slog from Mt. Shasta to get to the Avenue of Giants. Hwy 299, which keeps getting busier and busier, can still be a fun ride on the motorcycle, much less so when driving a rental car. Suffice to say, my parents were happy to stretch their legs and just stretch out and rest for a bit under these massive trees. The Giant Redwoods don't quite sport the girth of their cousins - the Giant Sequoias, but grow much taller, up to 375 feet or more.
Riding a bike is like learning to swim, they say. So they say, you never forget, but you do get a bit rusty. It had been over 4-1/2 months, notwithstanding the hour-long ride the week before to gently probe the extent of the cobwebs.
It was groundhog day, where we look to a rodent to predict the weather, which actually is just as good as any other method that we know of. The forecast was for sunny skies and 67 degrees. As I rolled over to Al's house at a leisurely 9AM, the weatherman was going to prove just as smart at predicting the weather as a rodent. No precipitation,but a chilly morning in the high 40s and the typical Sacramento valley low clouds/fog/smog had yet to burn off. Maybe after breakfast..
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