Two-stroke brethren

Leaving Poway, CA the morning of the 14th, I rode south on route 67, then east along or paralleling interstate #8, finally arriving in Descanso, where I made camp within the Cleveland National Forest. That night, I had the worst night of sleep I have yet had while touring. The wind, which I was warned about, was so incredibly fierce, it actually brought down a tree very close to my tent. All night the gale-force winds shook my tent and kept me from getting any good sleep. Surviving the night, I had breakfast, packed my gear and rode past the many, many mountain-bikers preparing for their rides.

Like the day before, the 15th was a day of climbing and more climbing. Being a Saturday, it was also a day for people to get out on their bikes; pedal and motorized. Combined, the people on two-wheeled machines must have outnumbered those on four-wheels by at least 2-1. This may seem like obvious information, but for many of them, it is an ongoing issue, levitra australia causing issues in self-esteem and relationships. He gets vardenafil sale himself unable to achieve erections and complete the intercourse satisfactory. In 1998, Pfizer introduced the first sildenafil citrate drug for alleviation or prescription for cialis purchase management of erectile problems. Before choosing your therapist always ask yourself: Does my prospective counselor make me feel like a patient in a VIP doctor’s office? Or does he rather make me feel like a viagra sale http://raindogscine.com/project/matrioshka/ compassionate pal I can talk to about just anything that’s on your mind? How is your thinking affecting your performance or the performance of your people? Better Performance The neuroscientists are now able to explain what actually was going on in my body. At least.

Camping in Potrero, I was within just a few miles of Tecate, Mexico. In case I wasn’t sure, all the Border Services/Homeland Security vehicles served to remind me that the US war against it’s Mexican brethren continues. Immigration checkpoints, jeeps, SUVs and dark sunglasses waved me along, but always casting a suspicious look upon anyone with brown skin. Racism is so ugly.

Finding my coffee-maker irreparably broken the night before, Sunday morning forced me to find coffee at the nearest restaurant. This I found, along with several dozen motor-bikers out for their Sunday club ride.

Bikes–whether gas or water powered–unite people. Hogs, choppers, crotch-rockets and super-bikes; their riders wave in two-wheeled solidarity. In fact, many of my cycling friends also ride motorbikes, knowing that nothing beats the freedom found only on two wheels.