Cody, who lives at Paul's house, where we spent the first night in Fresno. Short and furry. Gets my hormones going:
Gerard and Mike, at Paul's house:
Rey:
Mike again:
In Oatdale, home of the most photogenic asses in the world.
Biker fashion has been called "keyhole narrow". It is. It's depressing, actually - at these mainstream commercial events, there is almost no variation at all. Blue jeans, black T-shirt advertising something or other, leather vest. Personally, I go for something a little different.
Wozz, at whose home we stayed at in Havasu City.
Back by popular demand. I can't tell you how tickled I am that this random shot was the favorite of several friends, who share my taste for guys on the rough side... I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. He's HUGE, towering above everyone else. And extra-crusty, with a side of crunchy sauce.
Ken, who stayed with us in Havasu:
Ted, on the road.
Lining up for gas in the desert.
The bike right behind me was the new uber-bling cruiser from Honda, the Rune. I seriously considered one, but the reviews were quite negative. Besides, they cost a fortune. And it's way heavy. Pity the owner never took of his helmet, because you can see a big fat-boy nose and a shock of thick white fur sticking out from behind it.
Caught interesting light at the Den, back in Fresno.
Interesting portrait of Rey. I wish I hadn't fucked up the ISO setting on the camera - it ended up really grainy.
Paul:
Cody's room. He's big into biker stuff but doesn't currently have a bike. He has an excellent eye for art, too - tons of great stuff.
I left Ted and Rey in Fresno and headed up into Kings Canyon, where they were still digging out from a heavy snowstorm:
But at the end of the canyon, it was warm and sunny. The river flowed green and cold around the hot granite rocks at the end of the road. The park was almost entirely empty.
I basked on a rock for a while.
Then I refreshed myself at the falls.
Basically, it's Yosemite with good taste and no tourists, save a few wandering couples that are all either German or Russian.
Sequoia viewing was unsuccessful that day. The fog was so thick that trying to ride on the twisty road caused motion sickness.
Beautiful little cabin. The beams are about 12" x 18". Gives me a woody just looking at it.
The road down to Kings Canyon Lodge, where I was the only guest.
They sell the most expensive gasoline in the 48 states, but they serve it up in style. The owners, alas, are very unfriendly Christians who clearly didn't want me there. Sin of Sodom, indeed!
I figured it would be clear at dawn, so I got up in the freezing cold at an ungodly hour and headed out for the sequoias again.
Unfortunately, all my pictures were crap. Big trees, yes, but nearly impossible to photograph in a sensible way.
I ran out of memory at this point, so there are no more photos - the downhill stretch of 198 coming into Visalia is really something to see. Took 198 all the way to 101, which was quite pleasant and senic. Great tacos in Coalinga.
And suddenly, I was home again.