Irvine with JBram "Slice"

We've landed in Irvine, CA, around eight hours from our San Jose departure, and we're holed up at John's new pad, a newly-constructed, multi-tenant rental megalopolis with salt-water Olympic-sized pools, a world-class athletic facility, and several large and very warm hot tubs.

Starting in San Jose, we had a quick stop in Gilroy, a mere 30 miles south of our place, to make some quick adjustments: more layers ('twere chilly), added more air to the Victory's rear shock, a total of 40 lbs. and back on 101 South. We decided to absorb the extra hour and not take 5 because that route is so dull we would run the risk of death by boredom. Highway 101 is anything but dull, especially through Los Angeles, the land of bat-shit crazy drivers. Or what I like to call home. :D

Our first real stop was at Paso Robles, one of our favorite California wine destinations. There was no time for more than a quick gas stop and potty break, then back on to 101 South.

The next stop was in Santa Barbara for lunch, Los Agaves, a great little place in the old town, more gas and back at it.

Lane splitting rules! I don't know how you can live in SoCal's traffic without being on a motorcycle. At 3:00 PM, the traffic volume was oppressive. I've been stuck in a rental car at 7 PM on 101, pissed off that the motorcycles were darting like flies in and around the auto-pachyderms. There's something Zen-like about lane splitting: you're in the moment by necessity, geared in the power band, ready to throttle or brake at the appropriate time, dodging mirrors, angry drivers cutting or crowding lanes. A driver cuts you off, forcing a hasty retreat and then an angry roar as you pass him later. You don't have time to be angry or surprised or anxious or anything other than the now and whatever just happened happened and it's gone and you have to deal with what's next.