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The final day. I’m heading home.

It feels strange. I’ve been on the road for over a week. It’s become routine…

Ride…eat…ride…gas…ride…clean bug guts off face shield…ride…sleep….repeat.

I find myself a little sad to see it end.

I didn’t sleep well last night, and I’m finding it a bit hard to get going. I figure that I’ll make a quick stop at the McDonalds on the way out, since food stops are few and far between once I turn east from 395.

I’m so out of it, that I nearly ride right by the entrance. I see it to late, and hit both brakes too hard. They’re repaving, and there is loose gravel in the shoulder. The rear starts sliding…I’m too rummy to release the brakes, so I end up just riding out the slide. Only my second “stupid” in 1,900 miles. It could have been much worse.

I eat, and head out on a crisp, cool morning. It’s about 55-60 degrees and just a beautiful day.

About 25 miles in, one of my little fears of riding comes into play. Out of nowhere, I see a bug fly right by my neck. I think I’ve missed it, but the next thing I know, there is a very stunned bee laying right on the inside ridge of my chinbar.

In case you’re wondering, no….I really don’t like bees. At all. I’ve only been stung once, but I swelled up badly enough for me to be concerned about what might happen the second time.

Amazingly, I calmly lifted my visor before he regained his senses, and he quickly blew out. Another potentially dicey situation avoided.

Gas in Bishop, then eastbound on Hwy 168 through the White mountains.

On any other day, this section would have been a load of fun. But I was so determined to get home without a single issue on the whole trip, that I really babied it through the canyons. Next time I’ll be more adventurous.

You might notice the lack of pictures. I have to admit, even though the first couple of hours were beautiful, I knew the last 180 miles were going to suck, and I just wanted it over with.

I did take break at the Fish Camp junction long enough for Stomper to straighten out his ears though…

This is a very pretty, calm, serene area. I’d hung out here for awhile and watch the hay trucks go by….the kind of place I’d hang out and eat lunch for awhile if I could. Maybe next time.

Up and over Lido Pass I rode. I noted that these would be the last trees I’d see on this long journey. It was the first moment of the trip that truly made me sad. I live for water and trees, and Vegas has neither. I was really going home.

Back to life…

Back to reality…

With that, the photos come to an end.

Once on US 95, I wicked it up a bit in an effort to get the most awful part of the trip over with as quickly as possible. I passed on lunch in Beatty, knowing that there was a stop in Amargosa Valley with good food.

So much for those plans.

The place had closed, and the only other option was a seedy little gas station with a Brothel behind it. No thanks. Not for me.

The only other lunch stop between Amargosa Valley and home was in Indian Springs, were the State Prison is located. Despite that, I was ready to stop…

…until a big rain cloud opened up on me.

That’s right, 2,200 miles into my trip, I hit my first rain.

In the middle of the Mojave desert.

It’s a good thing I have a sense of humor about life.

At that point, I made the decision to just head straight home, and rolled into the garage after a 337.5 mile day.

Getting off the bike and putting it onto the center stand, I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. I’d done it. A trip I wasn’t sure I was capable of making, either physically or mentally, and I was ready to go again.

No mishaps, no major issues.

I’ll remember this trip for the rest of my life. It’s one more thing I can cross off my “I wish I would have done…” list. I want that list to be as short as possible at the end of my life. I’m way behind schedule, so I need to continue to get with it.

Until next time….keep the rubber side up, and take the time to notice what’s around you. You never know if it will be your last pass through.