Sometimes things look better in the morning. My rear tire didn’t. It looked a little… tired. I guess all the playing around and fun we’ve had on all the awesome two lane roads with a slightly overloaded bike does have consequences after all.

Who knew?

I check the tire pressure. It is fine. The tire was starting to show some definite signs of wear, but wasn’t worn down to the cords, and seems to have enough life left in it to get us home, though it would be destined for the used-tire depot-in-the-sky before the next ride.

Within five hundred miles of home, we could either cut across to the boring superslab, or continue exploring the nooks and crannies of California’s beautiful inland two lane roads. The highway would be safer, in the event the rear tire decided to give up the ghost, at least we’d be close to civilization. But back roads are fun.

Guess which option we chose.

Winding along Highway 89, my mind wandered. I reflected on the highs and lows of our trip, from escaping the wildfires and the first day’s disappointment of not being able to meeting the Adventure Rider sponsored rider Lu Fei, to the extreme high of the balloon ride in Napa, the many glorious sunsets we enjoyed, the rotten service we got a few times, the countless curves we railed through, the laughs and good times we shared. I’m sad the ride is almost over. To cheer myself up, I ponder a few other destinations that I consider Map-kin worthy, and realized that this day was already the Best Day Ever.

Highway 89 dumps us along Lake Tahoe, where Fiona and I did some on-the-road lake house shopping. We couldn’t decide between the gigantic A frame log cabin or the gated mansion. Decisions, decisions… We decide we’ll decide on our future home another day.

Before long, it’s time for another decision – a right turn detours us up and over the Ebbetts Pass, while continuing straight gets us closer to home.

Guess which option we chose.

What a road!

Ebbetts Pass is a sinewy, twisted path with ridiculously steep grades, insanely tight turns, the fun threat messing up a turn and falling down a mountain, the equally exciting threat of errant rocks crashing down on my fragile melon, and scenic vistas unparalleled on this planet. Why this road even exists is a mystery that I don’t bother to contemplate, I’m just happy it does. On the other side of the pass, rather than continuing on, we find a comfortable looking hotel and make an early stop for the night.

The next morning we attack the Sonora Pass, which is equally as exciting as Ebbetts, with the added benefit of more altitude.

Bliss.

We stop for lunch in the town of Bridgeport at the nearly empty Sportsmen’s Inn. As our waitress steers us away from the chicken sandwich, I notice a BMW GS parking next to Rain Cloud Follows. The rider walks in and sits down. We exchange a quick wave and think nothing more of it. As motorcyclists always do, we check out the other guy’s bike before we leave.

I notice a small ‘FYYFF’ sticker on one of his aluminum boxes. Hmm… I have the same sticker on my bag. This guy is on Adventure Rider. I wonder who he is. Then I notice a red flag with some yellow stars. Hmm… I start to wonder even harder… could it be?

The rider comes out, a huge grin on his face. “Hello!”

We start chatting and I find out he is from China, here to ride for fifty days.

“Are you… Lu Fei?!?”

His grin grows. “Yes, I am Lu Fei! How do you know?”

I tell him the story about how we were supposed to be part of the ‘Greeting Committee’ when he arrived, and how disappointed we were that we couldn’t be there to meet him.

“Yes, but we meet here instead!”

Small World!

My mind is blown. Five minutes either way for either of us, or eating in a different restaurant and our paths never would have crossed. Meeting Lu Fei is without a doubt the highlight of our trip.

While I was checking out Lu Fei’s ride, I notice the condition of my rear tire had deteriorated some more. We now have a problem, as the tire’s life is obviously over, and we have a ways to go yet. There is no motorcycle shop in Bridgeport, the closest town that might have a shop is Bishop, about ninety miles away.

Before bidding our new friend Lu Fei farewell, there’s just one more thing left to do.

Welcome To The Kingdom, Lu Fei!

I take it easy all the way to Bishop, not sure if there is a motorcycle shop in town or not. Even if there is a shop, there’s no guarantee it’ll be open, or even still in business. Only one way to find out.

The Tire Gods smile on us, as we limp into Golden State Cycle. The gods of all things rubber continue to smile because not only is the shop open, with a Michelin Pilot Road II in stock, the mechanics drop everything they are doing and descend on Rain Cloud Follows like a pack of hungry wolves. The new rubber is mounted almost as fast as a NASCAR pit stop.

Sweet relief!

From Bishop, it’s all familiar. We’ve done this drill more than once, and we settle in on autopilot for the semi-pleasant slog home. We stop for gas. We have an average Mexican dinner. The sun sets.

We ride the rest of the way home and, full of smiles and once-in-a-lifetime memories, we happily hoist a well earned final toast to the Best Ride Ever.

The Entire 2840 Mile Route