Made it back to Vegas last night.  My luggage didn't.  That was finally delivered about an hour ago, one side release buckle missing.  They steal everything in Detroit.  One time in LA I had the passenger side turn signal bezel stolen off my 1991 Isuzu Trooper.  They cut the wires instead of just pulling out the lightbulb too.  What's the dumbest thing somebody's ever stolen from you?

I'm still on the fence as to whether I'm going to San Diego this weekend for the $5k in Rincon.  I was leaning against it but then realized that motorcycle weather has returned to the southwest.  So as I've done in years past I got the itch to ride.  First thing I did this morning was take the bike in for an oil change.  Came home, worked, got called and told that the bike was ready (when they couldn't look at it til Tuesday at the earliest when I first talked to them).  My luggage was delivered shortly after that, good thing too so I can start laundry.  It's been a while since I've emptied luggage from one trip into the washer and then folded clothes straight from the dryer back into the same suitcase.  I'm kinda looking forward to it.  

But I'm definitely looking forward to getting back on two wheels.  I feel like riding has become what paddling used to be for me.  For the first five years of my adult life, sometime around now I would get that itch to be floating down a river somewhere, living out of a tent, generally getting outside.  This lead me to some early season adventures like floating down the Upper Kern in snowfall and hitch-hiking across Colorado Springs in full whitewater gear with 9' red kayak in a record blizzard.  

I miss doing that stuff so much.  I totally got my fair share of that kind of stuff on the bike last summer, there is definitely a similar paradigm between the bikers and river guides and hippies and surfers, which is probably why they always hung out at my favorite surf bar, Neptune's Net at the LA/Ventura County Line on PCH.  I can remember sitting there on the benches, warm spring sun beating on my white back, watching a group of bikers utilizing a water balloon launcher to catapult water bombs over the highway and onto the beach where women were sunbathing out of sight.  Then my calamari was ready.  Or the time at My Brother's Place in Canon City, CO.  First time I ever played naked Photo Hunt.  And it was with a river chick that I had a crush on and two biker dudes.  

So I guess I'm more the biker dude than I am the river/water guy these days, considering that I've put over 25k road miles in the saddle in the last five years vs. like a dozen river miles since 2005.  I miss being the river rat, but it's tough to pull off living in a tent for the summer when you're supposed to spend seven weeks of June in Vegas.  Fortunately motorcycling has enough of a lifestyle in common with being in the woods, unfortunately it doesn't share similar body types.  I miss being in shape.  

So, laundry's getting done, and I think I've talked myself into riding my motorcycle to San Diego tomorrow.  Stoked.

Peace and good luck,

Devo