In a good mood today. See, when we got to the motel last night, the check-in clerk noticed that we had a bike and offered us a room where we could park the bike just outside (in a walkway, rather than in the parking lot). So when I dropped off the key this morning, I made a point of telling the morning check-in clerk about it. The night clerk (she may have been the manager) was still there and overheard, and both were impressed that I made a point of saying something, as was another woman in the room (someone checking). That woman said I was making the world a better place, and that made me feel great.

The trip continues, with our usual surprise detours. When we stopped for gas in Stockton (an hour or two into the trip), Ken noticed a gash in the back tyre, in one of the grooves. So we’ve backtracked to Modesto, where the nearest BMW dealer is. I figured I’d grab the laptop and get a little work done while the tyre’s being changed.

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Busy, fun day yesterday. Ken got up early and headed out to an SCA demo. I slept in a little while longer, with some strange dreams. Got up, puttered about, and Christine arrived slightly earlier than I expected her to, as I was still undressed, un-contacted, etc. I threw myself together, gave her the tour, and she, being amazing, gave me presents (a pineapple sage plant, a bag of old embroidery floss, a tin of old _wooden!_ spools of thread, and a big cool box). What a wonderful woman! Then we commenced sewing. She’d bought some gorgeous velvet in a dark raspberry colour, and I’m making her a bodice. Got a good chunk of it done (made a pattern; cut out the velvet, interfacing, and lining; sewed the velvet to the interfacing and all that together; sewed the lining together) before we broke for lunch. She had to leave soon thereafter, so we’ll finish it another time. She has extra velvet to I’m going to make her some short flippy skirts as well. Fun!

Then Ken and I packed, and transferred files to the laptop, and chose music for the iPod, and all that sort of thing. We were on the road by 4, which was good for us, all things considered. (Our goal had been 3.) Getting out of LA wasn’t terribly fun, with backed-up traffic and heat and sun. It got better after that. We had dinner at a Mongolian bbq. We cut across the 5 to the 33, because Ken remembered it as being a whooptie road (lots of ups and downs), but it wasn’t, really. It was also pretty hot, even after the sun went down.

We stopped in a scary little town for gas at a Circle K. As we were calling ahead to make the motel reservation, a round young woman came out of the shop and pleasantly asked if we were on a journey. “Yes,” I said. “We’re headed to Portland.” “We’re on a journey, too,” she replied brightly. I glanced at her truck and her female companion holding a Chihuahua, but didn’t see any obvious travel items. Then she added, “Our final destination is Jesus Christ.”

Now, here’s the thing. I support people having whatever religion that works for them. If it gives you comfort, brings you answers, etc., and isn’t hurting you or anyone else, then that’s fantastic. But don’t bloody well proselytize at me. I respect you; I ask only the same in return. I almost said that to her, but I had a sneaking suspicion the big word would scare her. I also refrained a cheerful, “May the goddess bless you in your travels,” too.

It was an interesting little place, really. A good place for people watching. There was the nicely dressed lady of about our age, blonde, in a yellow tank top and tweedy cotton trousers—and Taz slippers. She’s ending up in a story someday, I tell you.

Anyway, then we headed north another hour and a half or so, and got to the hotel, and that catches us up to here.

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We left the Beemer dealer with a new tyre, which was altogether a good thing. It’s also a good thing that Ken’s such a careful rider; he checks the tyres at just about every gas stop when we travel. We headed north until we got to the tiny town of Williams and [cue chorus of angelic voices] Granzella’s, The Best Deli on the Planet. (Don’t argue with me on this.) I had a Reuben sandwich, which wasn’t quite as good as I remembered, but was still fantastic, and my salad was perfect. I resisted buying any olives or other things because we had no room on the bike at all. I’m hoping we can stop there on the way back; Ken has to ship things back home from work, so we can toss in anything we don’t need for the trip, thus freeing up a little space in the saddlebags.

We continued on, but I started to get really tired. Really really tired. As in, couldn’t keep my eyes open, kept almost falling asleep and then jerking awake when my head started to drop. So we stopped at a rest area and I had a soda and walked around, and that helped a lot.

We then went into the mountains to the little town of Oak Run near Redding, where Ken lived for several years. We went to the cabin and took a few pictures, and he told me lots of stories of people he’d known (this is where he met his ex, and I’ve heard some of the stories, but it was fun to see the actual places). The area is actually quite beautiful, and much cooler than Redding’s regular 110+ degrees in the summer. (I lived in Redding for two summers. With a car that had no air conditioning. It was festive. Not.) We then went into Redding and briefly by the apartment where I lived, and then to a burger joint called Bartell’s, which has the best burgers, fries, and shakes on the planet. (Again, there is no arguing.) Oh, yum. I wasn’t even entirely hungry, but it was soooo good.

We got a motel in town, went for a brief swim, then took a nice hot shower (the shower had great acoustics, too. Hee.) before lounging in bed and then drifting off to sleep.