Leaving LA.

     Nothing like 5 hours in 100 degrees and 3 hours in 95. Thursday I had finished packing and stuffing all my things into safe places, and with too many bags draping from my landscape, I rocketed out toward Simi Valley for the night. I was so wasted tired from the previous two days of packing, that I spent an extra day and night in Simi just resting and recuperating, and inevitably postponing my exodus toward Sonora till Saturday morning. Being as famished was all apart of my two day exhaustion and dieting on nothing but pizza and soda, when Friday night dinner came around I was fed a delicious homemade pot-pie dinner, cornbread and all, then camped butt on the couch for some Alice in Wonderland, which promptly resulted in me missing the whole thing due to passing out. 
     Which brings me to this morning when my alarm clock was set for 7:30am, yet somehow I managed to push snooze till 10:30am, at which point I shot out of bed, literally, cause a certain indoor cat was hanging/dangling/screaming by its front paws to the outside of the screen on a very high window.
It took me no more than 30 minutes to gather and lasso my belongings to my horse and let my senses wake up, drank some water, ate a brownie, gave my kisses and hugs, and happily hit the road for some scenic riding through the mountains north of Simi and east to the 5 where I'd shoot right home. I was really looking forward, and I mean really really stoked, to see the new territories along the 23 and 126 highways, cause I had no idea what these stretches of road looked like, other than a two year olds doodle on my google map. 
     Now, I have seen the 118 and the 5 freeways way too many times to get excited about anything along their routes other than cheap fueling opportunities and new bugs for my headlight. So when I was looking for alternate routes to the 5 north from Simi, this new route just totally lit up my little wheels with exhuberation. One thing that particularly tickled my tail feathers, was when the 23 dropped over the first ridge and gave me this great view of the Fillmore valley and the upcoming corkscrews, hairpins, and fun little whoop-dee-woos leading me to the valley floor. There was what looked to me like none other than a large sand mining operation off to the left. I know, super exciting. But when I finally wound my way into the lusciousness of the agricultural farmland happening between Fillmore and Piru, it just screamed "jack, you need a farm." I even took a few extra minutes to shoot out to see what Lake Piru was all about. Yep, it's a lake. Complete with water and boats. I can hardly believe it.


     12pm It was already hot by that time, but when I hit the 5 it really started cooking. Great day for 10 layers and a suede trench coat. This leg of my ride all the way up the five goes like this: it was a long trip with lots of water stops, hair drenching, passing people in air-conditioned cars looking at me like I'm crazy, and sitting in shade with my eyes shut letting my dry irritated overheating port-holes take a break from the pounding hot air. Hours later, some sweet 80degree foothill evening, and a lost 20oz C02 bottle, I rolled into Sonora at about 8:30pm into the arms of those golden hills, soothed by the sweet warm smell of her tall tan grasses, and sung to by the lulling sounds of her rustling oaks, clapping at my arrival.


     And can you guess what I learned today? I learned that my Co2 canister can not ride in its formerly attached position with weak ass hoseclamps. And I hope whatever prisoner that ends up cleaning the roadside gets some use out of that full 20oz can. Time to make another purchase and re-engineer a better harness.


...and that I need to carry eye drops.


  Home sweet home. :)