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July 31, 2017

Satan Calls Home one of His Minions

Just so we're clear, my grandmother passed away Saturday night, and I'm glad she's gone. Satan has called home one of his own.

And, no, fuck you very much, I don't need/care for/want your advice on how I'm handling this. I'm not telling you how to deal with your life, and I'll kindly ask you to shut the fuck up if you don't think I'm dealing with my grandmother's passing in the way you deem appropriate.

Fuck you. Fuck her. She has a a shiny place in hell waiting for her, and it's well deserved

I won't go into all of the things she did to me as a child, or as an adult. It's not worth my time. However, just rest assured, she was an evil stark-raving squalid cunt, and if the devil had any sense, he wouldn't take her.

But she is dead. And the world is a better place because of it. No one should ever have to deal with a bitch like her. I suspected this when I was a child, but once I was older, I confirmed it. She hated me her entire life, and never had a kind word for me.

I'm glad she's dead, and I pray that there is a God, and a Satan, and that she spends eternity in the furnace of hell.

And, to everyone who can't believe I would say this, or that she was such a great grandmother, or that I was a bad grandkid, I say kindly, fuck you, and the horse you rode in on. I pray for everyone that they never have a relative, or person in their life, that treats them as badly as she treated me.

I'm glad she's rotting in satan's hell fires, and please, kindly, STFU. I really don't care what you have to say. You didn't know her. And if you did, then you know I'm right.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 31, 2017 at 11:22 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

Some parting notes from SLO

My odometer says that I went 888 miles this weekend. So, it was a nice little trip up the coast.

One of the things that strikes me as I ride is that I see a lot of names, and I wonder who these people were. Quintana Roo is a province in Mexico. And Quintana is a street in Morro Bay. Who was San Luis O' Bispo?

The mission at SLO was built in 1772, 4 years before the American Revolution.

Highway 1 is named the Cabrillo Highway (in some sections). Who was Cabrillo? I mean, sure, I presume that he was an early conquistador, but this is not something they taught us in class growing up. We didn't really study the conquest of the south and west by the spanish, or by Mexico, etc. I don't recall any of this.

Lately, I've come to realize that "Baja California" just meant "Lower California". It seems like maybe studing the history of California would be interesting, to fill in some of the gaps.

The rock formation at Morro Bay is not unique. There are several of these rock formations in the general vicinity. One notable one is between Morro Bay and SLO to the west of CA1. Not clear how these were formed.

The internet said that all of the rooms were sold out in SLO and Morro Bay and Pismo and Santa Maria, etc. They were not. So, I'm not clear what the disconnect is, but Hotels.com doesn't know about all of the hotels, or the hotels are holding back rooms. I'm not clear what's going on, but my strategy has always been to never make hotel reservations in advance, and I should have stuck with that plan for this time.

On the return trip, I followed CA-1 for a short part at Santa Barbara, and I remember that section of the coast. There's another loop where CA-1 follows the coast that I never took o this trip. That part follows the coast down to the area of Malibu.

It's hard for me to remember why I was down here before, but at some point, I was down here and I tried to surf at Malibu (unsuccessfully). Also, there is a university campus near here also, I think.

I used to work for HR Textron in the general area. Maybe that was when I came down to the coast and tried to surf.

Also, I stopped to see the bus station where I changed buses on my bus trip from Cambria to SLO.

So, I have successfully retraced much of my route from when my XR broke down on me on the coast a few years back.

It looks like I first drove down to Pismo in my Honda Prelude back in February of 2005.

This was when I was working in South San Francisco (South City), and drove the prelude onto the beach. I think it always made a grinding noise after that, and I sold it as soon as I got back. I'm thinking that I was working for Genentech at this point.

I was at Electronic Arts in 2002 (Feb 02 - Aug 02).
I was at Genentech 2004-05 (Sep 04 - March 05).
I was at PetCo in San Diego (April 09 - Jun 09). After this project, I rode an XR to Cabo and back, but left it in California and sold it there.

October 2009 is when I rode my XR from San Diego down to Cabo and back.

2012 is when I rode an XR down the coast and left it on the side of CA-1 somewhere north of Ragged Point. So, this was just over 5 years ago.

This link shows all of my vehicles that I've owned, but needs to be updated with the 2017 Honda AT.

But, I reference the time when I drove a Prelude down to the border with Mexico, chickened out, and came back and "left the car at the airpot". (I've never left a car at the airport, permanently anyway.) So, my best guess as to when this happened would have been Genentech 2004-05. I think that that would have been my first trip down the Pacific Coast Highway, I think. (Not counting when Michelle and I went down there in '93. We were in Carmel and went down the coast to San Simeon in '93.) And also not counting the work that I did for HR Textron back in....?

So, I think that February of 2005 is when I drove the Honda Prelude down the coast. Let's see if I have any photos from then that indicate I went further south than Pismo. Yeah, I do. I have photos of the murals at Lompoc on here dated 2/3/2005. So, if I was in Lompoc, I was well south of Pismo.

12 years Ago
Feb 5. 2005 - After leaving the project at Genentech, I drove my Honda Prelude down the Pacific Coast Highway (CA-1) to the Mexican border. I was planning on driving it to El Salvador, but I chickened out, turn around and drove back to SF, sold the car to a dealership, and flew back to Colorado.

5 years ago
I rode my XR down the Pacific Coast. I think I was headed to Pismo, but the bike broke down on the side of the road somewhere north of Ragged Point. I hitched a ride with some strangers, spent the night at the Bluebird in Cambria, got up and caught the bus to Morro Bay, connected to another bus to SLO, caught the Amtrak back from SLO to SF.

1 year ago
Last year, in July of 2016, I rode my KTM from Denver to CA in one day, (1,013 miles). I got to Lee Vining, but they had no rooms, and sent me south to June Lake where I spent the night. Then, I spent a few days in SF, and headed down the coast to Riverside.

< 1 year ago
Last fall, in September of 2016, I rode my bike up the coast of CA to have the bike in SF for a week. My thought was to get the bike up to SF so I had it in the city for a week or so, then ride it down the coast to Los Angeles. Along the way, I stopped in SLO and spent 2 nights. I made it up to CA, but then the clutch went out on me (again). So, I left the bike at a shop in El Cerrito, and flew home. Came back when it was fixed, and on October 8th, I rode it down to Los Angeles in one day on the I-5.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 31, 2017 at 12:26 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

July 30, 2017

Last Day in SLO Town

So, today, I wake up (Sunday), and I've got to drive back to Riverside. Like...I'm not crazy about the idea, but that's the plan, anyway. So, I get up and first, I roll up to Morro Bay, only this time, I take the back roads up to Osos. Then, I roll into Morro Bay. I figiure that I'll force myself to find a place to eat at Morro Bay.

So, I find a little dive, and I order something..a sandwich and some fries, I think. I like sitting out and looking out over Morro Bay. There are some animals out there...(seals? sea lions?) I have no clue. But some mammals out there, and some boats coming in and out of the harbor. Somewhat entertaining.

I go to the bathroom, and when I come back, the sea gulls have eaten all of my lunch. Great.

I decide to look for the park that I changed buses in when I caught a bus from Cambria to SLO. As it turns out, I changed buses in Morro Bay, and I even find the little park where I waited for the bus to SLO. Funny how memory fades, and then is refreshed.

So, I take off headed back to SLO town. But again I take CA-1 instead of the 101, so, any time the two roads split, I take CA-1 which is slower, but more scenic.

Once I get to Santa Barbara, then Ventura, and now the traffic is just a nightmare. Like, I'm lane-splitting on the 101 for hours. I don't think that I'll ever do this trip again. It's too dangerous.

The thing I have a hard time with is....why have I been on this road so many times? Like, I can understand going to Pismo, but why go any further south? I really struggle with this, and I've been down here many times.

I dunno. It's hard to recall as you get older.

The 101 from Ventura to the 314 is just a nightmare of lane-splitting.

Once I get off of the 101, and onto the 314, then everything is fine, and I start to think that maybe I'll survive.

Like, I'm glad that I took this little weekend trip. It was a beautiful ride, but I don't think that I'll do this again. Not in the forseeable future. It's too dangerous driving on the US 101 lanesplitting for hours. It's a miracle that I'm still alive.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 30, 2017 at 10:27 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

July 29, 2017

Cambria, San Simeon, Ragged Point, & Cayucos

In the morning, I wake up , and I don't know what to do with myself. But I figure, I'll get up and ride my bike somewhere. The plan is to get on CA-1, and go north until they stop me. The road is washed out in multiple places. But, I figure I'll go as far as I can, then turn back.

So, I ride north to Morrow Bay. Now, I decide to try to get out onto that little peninsula. So, I drive in that general direction, and I do end up in a little town called Los Osos. I get pretty close to the peninsula, when my gas light comes on. So, I turn back, and gas up in Los Osos.

I'm not sure what to do, so I figured I'll ride up to Cambria and have lunch there.

So, I roll North towards Cambria.

Now, Cambria is where I spent the night when my Honda XR left me stranded on the side of the road.

So, I'm heading back to Cambria. And, loosely, I have some idea of when that happened, because I bought my KTM to replace the Honda XR as a touring bike, essentially.

So now, I'm on the KTM, and I roll into Cambria. It's a quaint little town off of CA-1. Back in the day, it was all word of mouth. But now, it's all TripAdvisor.com. So now, all of the secrets are out, of course. What was off the beaten path, is suddenly well trodden these days, it seems.

I loop through town a few times. I find the restaurant I ate it. It's an Italian place named Lombardi's.

I think that the bar I closed down on that trip is Mozzi's.

I'm trying to remember how that trip ended up. I remember that I caught a bus from Cambria to somewhere, hopped on the Amtrak, and now I'm wondering where the Amtrak station was. I search my website, and lo and behold, it was in SLO Town.

Now, I see where the train station is in SLO-town. I'd completely forgotten about that. So, when I get back to SLO, I'll have to chase down the Amtrak station.

Now, I'm not sure what to do. Like, the only sensible thing to do seems to be to keep going up the coast until someone stops me. The woman at the gas station in Cambria says that I can go north, past Ragged Point, and then, the road is blocked and I have to turn around and come back.

So, I'm like "good enough". And I roll North.

At Sam Simeon, I stop to see what the deal is with Hearst Castle. But, you can't drive up to it. There's a parking lot at the bottome of the hill and they shuttle you up in buses. All you can see of the castle is a dot.

So I roll north. At Ragged Point, is where the road really gets interesting. A lot of the road south of here is 4 lanes (instead of 2), and it goes through rolling hills, instead of following the coast. But now....now we're down to 2 lanes....spine-tingling curves and a 5 hundred foot drop into the ocean if you mess up.

Now, it's really a dreamy ride, and I turn on my GoPro to catch some of the action.

But, the road doesn't go far like this, before I come to a woman with the road blocked off. She turns me back. You can't go any further north, due to a massive slide (Mud Creek Slide) that erased the road, essentially. It won't be fixed for at least a year.

So, I turn back. I mean...it is what it is...I'd like to keep going. This part of the road is just an adrenaline junkie's dream.

But we have to go back now. We have to return to Pismo.

All along this trip, I've seen hotels with vacany signs. But when I looked online, it looked like everything was all booked up. But every hotel said vacancy.

So, I should not have booked the room in advance. I screwed up. I should have just winged it. Oh well.

I stop at Ragged Point on the way back for an ice cream shake. Some dude is playing the guitar. I buy a sticker for my bike that says Big Sur.

Now, I'm rolling south again. When I get back to SLO, I go straight to the train station, and sure enough....there's my train station, and the restaurant that I ate at. Hilarious. I'd totally forgotten about that.

Then, I go to McClintock's for dinner. I want to see what everyone is standing in line for every farmer's market. It's on Broad and Higuera street. Some guys are in a car, parked, and a dude hits it and takes off. They chase after him, and catch him. But the cops don't write him a ticket for fleeing the scene, even though they should have. THey exchange insurance is all. Now, I'm exhausted, and I think it's time to go back to the hotel.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 29, 2017 at 6:38 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

July 28, 2017

Morro Bay, Pismo, and SLO Town

This morning, I wake up and get some work done in the hotel. I'm working remote today, it seems. So, I get my work done, and then I decide to go to the SLO-Town Chamber of Commerce and get a sticker for my bike. I really like SLO Town. It's one of my favorite places in California. So, I go in there to get my sticker. The girl remembers me from last night. I don't remember her, but I digress. So, I get me a sticker and put it on my bike.

I really don't want to be here any more. I really want to be anywhere but here. Like..I want to get on my bike and let it take me whereever it takes me. And I don't care at all where that is. I just want someone to stop the music. Stop the train, I want to get off.

I leave SLO and drive to Morro Bay for lunch. Morro Bay has a closed power generating station. I used ot think it was a defunct nuclear power plant, but apparently, that's not the case. Apparently, it's a decomissioned power station, but not a nuclear one.

I'm rolling through town. It's a touristy little town with a lot of development along the water front. Heavy fog rolls in across the bay. It's a scenic little town, but the boss calls and now I have to go back to the hotel to do some more work. Ugh.

I spend the rest of the day in the hotel in SLO, getting some work done remotely. At 6:00, I go down to the farmer's market at Avila Beach. It goes from 4:00 - 8:00. Someone told me about it at the farmer's market in Pismo. I forget who.

I head down to the farmer's market at Avila beach, without my riding gear. And, after I go a mile or so, I realize it's going to be way too cold. So I turn back and put on all of my riding gear. The fog rolls in and the temperature drops. Now, I'm rolling down, and the traffic is all backed up due to a wreck on CA-1/US 101 (they're the same at this point).

I exit for the Avila Beach road, and now I'm on a road I've never been on before. Nice little road twisting down to the beach, past a river/estuary. Find the farmer's market.

The farmer's market in Avila Beach is nice, as it's on the waterfront. But, a much smaller affair than the SLO-town farmer's market.

My problem is that, you can only eat so much. And, if money doesn't matter, then you really sort of end up trying to moderate your eating because, once you're full, you can't really eat any more. So, you don't want to get satiated too soon, I think.

The crowd at Avila Beach is much older than the crowd at SLO.

SLO is a bunch of college kids. Avila Beach is mostly retirees.

After Avila, I decide to roll down to check out Pismo. At Pismo, they're building some new condos/apartments downtown. I go through town, but I don't really stop. I roll south on 101 for an exit or two. Then, I try to drive towards the beach. I end up at some random place on the back side of the dunes.

Then, I try again, and I end up at an entrance to the beach. I never realized before that there are multiple entrances to dirve on the beach. Now, I know that there are at least 2 entrances where you can pay to drive onto the beach.

It's Friday afternoon/evening, and there's just this insane line to get onto the beach. So, I drive to the front like I own the place. I've saved my little receipt taped onto my windscreen, and as I get ot the front of the line, I just point to it and they just wave me through.

Now, I'm driving down the beach, and this time, I decide to try to go a little further down the beach. I end up driving about 2.5 miles down the beach.

It's sort of a surreal experience...it's the only place in CA where you can drive on the beach, to my knowledge. And, these people are all down here camping on the beach with campers, American flags are everywhere. They're riding dirt bikes, ATV's, dune buggies, like...this is far as you can be from California, and still, somehow, be in California.

Like Mad Max. Like a little Baja in California.

People are all waving at me. Giving me a thumbs up. As I roll by. Like...this is not easy. I'm not on a dirt bike, really. My bike is clearly set up more for the road. Everyone nods as I go by. WHich is kind of fun.

I saw a guy on a Suzuki yesterday in Lompoc, and I said, "where you headed?" to him at the light. He said, "why?".

So, what this means is that he's not going anywhere. He's a loser. He's poor as shit. And he's riding a suzuki because he can't afford to pay for gas in a real vehicle.

But now that I'm in Pismo, it's a much different scene. Everyone waves. Everyone gets what you're doing. Pismo is a world away from Lompoc.

As I'm riding down the beach, the sand gets softer and softer until, finally, the bike very nearly goes down. Somehow, I keep it up, but now I'm turning around. The sand isn't packed enough at this point. I turn back, and open the throttle, to take the weight off of the front tire.

Somehow, I make it back off the beach. Then, I ride towards Pismo a bit, and then I discover the 2nd entrance to the beach. There are at least 2 entrances.

I think that the first time I drove to Pismo was when I came down from SF in a Honda Prelude and drove that car down the beach. It never was the same after that I think. It made a grinding noise when I drove it and I sold it as soon as I got back to San Francisco. That was when I worked at Genentech in South San Francisco. I think that that was the first time I ever went to Pismo Beach.

I roll back to SLO at dusk, and look for a bar on Higuera Street so that I can sit down and drink a beer or two. I end up at Marston's Bar & Grill.

It's always interesting to see Higuera street in the daylight when it's not all blocked off for the farmer's market. It's a lot different then.

I'm not sure where to go tomorrow. I can't really go any further north. I could, however, head east. I haven't ruled that out yet.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 28, 2017 at 10:06 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

July 27, 2017

Return to SLO-town

Left Riverside: 12:00 noon
Arrived SLO Town: 6:00 p.m.
Miles driven today: 286.5

So, today, I'm sitting there in our little work-prison in Riverside, CA and I'm supposed to go to the airport. This is what consultants do. They're supposed to fly home like homing pigeons on Thursday and then return on Monday and somehow pretend as if this all makes sense. As if flying across the country twice a week somehow is perfectly logical.

But really, after a year, it gets very old. Jennifer isn't going to be there this weekend. And I really am having a hard time mustering up the will to fly home for no real reason.

I ask this girl I work with, "Are you going back to Chicago?"



"Because, I have to wash my clothes," she complains.

Like, honest to god. That's what we're doing. Flying home to a different time zone, Washing some clothes, and then returning like Lemmings.

But somehow, I figure I've got to break this cycle. I want to go on a little adventure, even if it's only for the weekend. I want to try to see what it's like NOT to fly to Denver every weekend.

I think about where I might go. Maybe to Rosarito or Ensenada, Mexico. Muleje. Loretto. Santa Rosalio. Bajia De Los Angeles.

But the problem with Baja is that it's just so freaking hot right now. It's the middle of summer. Maybe I could go north. Maybe to Pismo or SLO town. Carmel. Monterrey. Santa Cruz. Anywhere but here.

Now, I have to figure out how much it will cost me. Basically, I figure my airfare is about $400 a week, so if I stay out in CA for 4 nights at $100 a night, it's basically a wash. The only additional expenses I might have are keeping my Honda Africa Twin at the airport in Denver for 4 days (about $40). Plus, I might spend more eating out in CA, but I eat out every meal in CO, so it should be a wash, I figure.

I go online and start looking for hotels on the Cabrillo Highway (CA-1) near Pismo Beach. Now, booking hotels in advance is a major no-no when I'm on a motorcycle adventure. It goes against everything I stand for. But this is a little different. I'll have to work remote on Friday, so I need internet access, and I need a confirmed hotel for at least Thr/Friday night.

Go online to Hotels.com and find a little no-tell motel in SLO Town.

Plus, since it's Thursday night, they'll have the farmer's market going on. I stumbled onto this almost exactly one year ago today.

So, I cancel my flight back to Denver. Then, I cancel my round-trip from DEN to ONT and back for next week. Then, I buy a one way ticket for Thursday next week from ONT back to DEN. Confusing as fuck, but this is where we are.

Just before noon, I bolt out of the little hell-hole which we call home in Riverside.

I set the GPS to Pismo Beach, hop on the KTM and start rolling towards the coast.

Now, I was thinking that, by leaving at noon, I'd miss any serious traffic. I was wrong. The LA basin is a miserable place to live, and anyone that lives there is a fool, or worse. They have no mass-trasit system to speak of. It's just a maze of 7-lane freeways that are jammed around the clock.

So, I'm lanesplitting across the LA basis, and I'm sure I'll die on this project. I'm certain of that. Basically, I take the 60 west to 71 north to Pomona. I stop in and try to have lunch at Cal Poly Pomona, but they catch me, so I leave with an empty stomach. My plan is to stop for gas in Ventura, CA.

The truth is that I have a hard time remembering where I am when I wake up. That I'm not sure which motorcycle it is I'm about to get on. I forgot how the KTM gas gauge works. As it turns out, when it gets low on fuel, a low fuel light comes on, and a new trip meter starts up. When the light comes on, you have about 30 miles to go, tops.

Predictably, I pass through Ventura without getting gas. The low fuel light comes on. Somehow, I end up driving down the coast for a short distance. I stop and ask some woman at a camp ground where the next gas station is. It's 4 miles up the road at a town called Carpinteria.

So, I stop for gas in Carpinteria. So glad to not be stranded on CA Highway 1 again. That's a bad place to be.

I follow the US Highway 101 up through Santa Barbara until it leaves the coast. Then, I cut over onto CA 1, just because I'd rather be on the smaller 2 lane road than the 4 lane 101. So, I'm blowing past these jackass cars that are going too slow, and now I see a police car sitting there, and of course he pulls out immediately and pulls me over.

I pull over and shut down the bike. The good thing is that, at least I have valid plates and insurance. (This is sort of a rarity for me.)

"Do you live here in California?" he asks.

"I'm not really sure....I mean....I sort of live in Colorado, and work in California....I commute," I offer. It doesn't sound like it makes any sense. Even to me.

"You commute from Colorado to California?" he asks.

"Yeah. I'm usually in California on Monday - Thursday. And I'm in Colorado on Friday - Sunday."

So, I hand him my license and proof of insurance. He goes back to his car. I see him writing on top of his car furiously, so I figure I'm going to at least get one ticket ouf of the deal.

But when he comes back, he says the speed limit is 55 and he just gives me a written warning.

Now, I'm rolling through the hills of southern california. Really beautiful. And I come to the town of Lompoc. Now, I remember Lompoc because it has all of these stunning murals, so I roll around and shoot some of the murals of Lompoc. Some man once warned me of how bad Lompoc was. He warned me not to stop there...not to even go through the town. But I've never had an issue with the place.

Now, I'm at Vandenberg Air Force Base. And I do like retracing my steps like this. To revisit places I've been before. It's one of the best things about traveling, it seems.

As I get closer to Pismo, I come to a bunch of fields that are planted with various crops. Lots of Mexicans working in the fields. It's hard to ignore that these people are basically slaves to fields of strawberries. It's nothing to be proud of, I can assure you.

Now, I recognize the hills and the intersections, as I get closer to Pismo. I turn and go down to the beach.

I tell the guy at the booth, "there used to be photos here of front-end loaders lifting cars out of the surf. where did the photos go?" I ask the guy in the box.

"I don't know. How long ago was this?" he replies.

"I dunno....maybe 15 years ago?" I guess.

I pay my $5.00, and now I'm driving down Pismo Beach. Get some retired man to shoot some shots of me with the Canon camera.

Now, I'm rolling north to SLO Town. SOmehow, there's an insane amoutn of traffic, and as it turns out. Garth Brooks is playing in concert tonight, in Paso Robles, I think, and the traffic is backed up nearly to Pismo Beach. I've never seen traffic like this here, on this section of road, ever.

Now, I'm lane-splitting again, trying to get to SLO Town, and somehow I make it and I find my little no-tell motel. Get checked in. They have my reservation. He hands me a map that shows where the farmer's market is.

I walk up and down Higuera Street, from Osos to Nipomo multiple times. I ate BBQ from Mother's Tavern, and an ice cream shake from Doc Burnstein's ice cream lab.

Also, someone mentioned that there's another farmer's market tomorrow night down at Avila Beach (Near Pismo). Woohoo!

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 27, 2017 at 11:44 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

July 24, 2017

Just Stop

I fly into Ontario airport this morning, and I really can't tell you what it's like to land in a city in different time zone and walk outside and see your orange KTM 990 adventure right where you think you probably left it. Like...every time I see it, I want to kiss the ground.

So, I hop on the KTM and roll across the sidwalk, leave without paying, and roll into work. This week, we're back in Riverside. Now, I don't even have a map and I don't even plug in my GPS. I've been doing this for so long that there just aren't words.

I roll up to the building where we're supposed to be and park my bike in the motorcycle parking spot, bypassing the arm that keeps other vehicles out.

And now, I'm back at University of California, Riverside.

I go inside, and sit all day, basically. In a little room. Other people filter in. Everyone has been somewhere different over the weekend. You could hardly even guess where everyone went.

After work, I go to my Air BnB. Folow the directions, and I find the place OK, but now I've got some fucking cunt getting down on me. She's telling me that I should have pulled around front instead of the back. That this is all explained in the fucking directions. And I'm like..."Cunt...let me explain something to you. I woke up in a different time zone. I'm twice your age. I make more than anyone you've ever met. I don't need you telling me what a fucking idiot I am. That's not helpful. DO you get it cunt?"

Like...Mother Fucker.

"Did you read the directions that I set up on AirBnB?" She's digging in. Going for the kill.

Cunt, I woke up in Colorado this morning. I set my alarm for 5:30 a.m. (4:30 a.m. PDT). And I got up and flew out here an worked all day in a room full of idiots. And now, I'm driving to a place I've never been before on a motorcycle you could never afford that's been through more countries than you've ever seen.

"Just stop.' is what i tell her.

Like...How about you shut the fuck up with your god-damned snarky "did you read the Air BnB instructions" and you tell me where the fuck I need to go to unload my clothes. God Damn It You Lifeless Kunt. There's a reason you're single. You're aware of this, right? I'm not the first one to tell you that you're a raging cunt and that no one would ever want to spend 2 seconds in your presence if they weren't absolutely forced to.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 24, 2017 at 10:28 PM : Comments (2) | Permalink

July 20, 2017

How to easily turn off CNN in the nation's airports


Posted by Rob Kiser on July 20, 2017 at 10:11 PM : Comments (1) | Permalink

July 17, 2017

Return to Pomona

I spent 3 of the last 4 weeks in Oakland, it seems. Jennifer disappeared at some point, and I immediately flew to Arkansas and bought a 2017 Africa Twin. Drove it back - 1,000 miles in 24 hours.

Somehow, I managed to forget that my Tahoe was out at the airport when I came back. So, on Monday morning (a week ago), when I went to get in my Tahoe in the garage, it wasn't there. So, I took the AT out to the airport, and flew to Oakland. So, for a while, I had the AT and the Tahoe at the same airport (DEN).

Jen helped me to retrieve the Tahoe on Saturday.

Meanwhile, the KTM is in the shop CHapparal Motorsports in San Bernardino, CA. It's been in the shop for about a month, while I've been in Northern CA.

So, today, I get up and I fly into Ontario. It's like Groundhog Day. Like, everything just keeps repeating. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Land at ONT, catch LYFT to San Bernardino. Sadly, Al isn't there. He's my buddy. "Rob's so rich when he write a check, the bank bounces". Hop on the KTM. New tires. New clutch. $2,000.00 down the drain.

Now, I compare the seat to the Honda. There's no comparison. Zero. The KTM seat is 100X softer than the Honda seat. Fuck Honda.

Now, ride the KTM on I-10 West. Just winging it. I'm not sure of the address. The GPS doesn't know what time zone it's in. So, I'm just lane-splitting, heading west on I-10 for Cal Poly Pomona.

Like...the problem is that you get so dried out...just like a shucked corn husk. I don't really care about anything any more. Like...so what if they pay me $1,000.00 a day? What's the point? What difference, at this point, does it make?

I'm rolling west on I-10. And then, I see a sign for Kellogg Drive. That's it. That's the ticket. That's the place I'm looking for. And I exit, and roll onto the campus of Cal Poly Pomona. I couldn't tell you when the last time I was here was. But it wasn't that long ago. Maybe 4-5 weeks?

I roll onto the beautiful sprawling campus. The Jacaranda Trees no longer bloom purple. I do notice that.

I walk into our offices where we normally hold court, but no on is here. Now, I wonder...am I in the wrong city? At the wrong campus? I call John...no...we're here...only we're down stairs this time.

And now, it's not a cool spring temperature. It's a roasting 95 F in the sun. Now, we no longer parade around the campus at lunch exploring the campus and the buildings.

They're having some big meeting in a conference room. I don't even go. I've long ago given up any pretense of concern in attending these big kickoff meetings. I just walk around the building, get some diet coke and sort of try to get the lay of the land.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 17, 2017 at 3:05 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

July 10, 2017

Return to Oakland

Somehow, I thought that I was flying to Ontario, CA today, but in fact, I was supposed to be in Oakland, CA. So, I reticked my flight yesterday, and got a round trip ticket

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 10, 2017 at 6:46 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

July 9, 2017

Day 2 on the Africa Twin

In the morning, I wake up in some hotel on the North end of Salina, Kansas. I had the alarm set for pretty early, but I turn it off and get up at about 9:00. I want to go to the Barn Party in Peaceful Hills, but it's a long ride. I figure I've got roughly 500 miles to go again today,

But leaving early is a mantra for me on these big motorcycle rides. My mantra is "100 miles before noon". That's always the goal. Get up. Get out of bed. Get off your ass, and get rolling. This came from many rides where I'd sleep in in the morning until the cleaning lady was beating on my door to throw me out. But now, I know that I've got to get up and get rolling early.

So, I check out, hop on the bike, gas up, and roll out of town by about 9:15 a.m.

Now, the party is at 2:00 p.m., and I figure that the best I will be able to do will be to get there at 4:00 p.m., and that's assuming that I drive like a bat out of hell.

I keep pretty good tabs on my mileage because I'm trying to figure out how many gallons of gas the bike will hold, and what gas mileage I'm getting, so I can know how far I can go between gas stations. This is very critical information, obviously.

Russellville, Arkansas Odometer: 0

Fort Smith, Arkansas Odometer: 84 miles
Fuel: 2.13 gallons regular gas @ $1.97/gallon = $4.19
Mpg: 84 miles / 2.13 gallons = 39.43 mpg

Tulsa, Oklahoma Odometer: 219 - 84 = 135 miles
135 miles / 3 gallons = 45 mpg

South of Wichita: 375 - 219 = 156 miles
156 miles / 4.1 gallons = 38 mpg

Salina, Kansas: 487 - 375 = 112 miles
112 miles / 2.79 gallons = 40 mpg

Day 2
11:00 a.m. Wakeeny, Kansas: 617 - 487 = 130 miles
130 miles / 3.479 gallons = 37.36 mpg

11:57 a.m. Eastern Colorado: 761 - 617 = 144 miles
144 miles / 3.78 gallons = 38 mpg

2:04 p.m. MDT Denver, CO 929-761 = 168 miles
168 miles / 4.35 gallons = 38.6 mpg

Then, at some point, I realized that I'd crossed into Mountain Time Zone, so I'd gained an hour, and this meant that I would get to the party at 3:00 p.m. instead of 4:00 p.m. So, I was only an hour late to the party. Woohoo!

When I was riding yesterday, it was so hot, that I wanted to prop open my visor, but it wouldn't stay open. It's a beat up old helmet that and the visor kept coming down, for some reason. So, finally, I just pulled over on the side of the road, got some sticks/briars from the brush, ans hoved it into the holes on the sides of the helmet visor so that the sticks would hold it open while I was riding. It wasn't pretty, but it worked.

Also, at some point I realized that, when I stop for gas, I have to clean my helmet visor and my little windscreen on the bike. Like, these are just little things that you have to do when you stop. Go inside, get some food, get something to drink, clean your bike windscreen and helmet visor, gas up, and take off like a bat out of hell.

The last time I tried to drive across Kansas, they were waiting for me at Goodland, Kansas. It's a little speedtrap they operate at the state line. Like, going west across Kansas, by the time you get to the state line, you're ready to take your own life. Just countless hours of monotonous flat land that never changes. So, by the time you're getting to the Colorado state line, you're going 95 in a 75 and you're thinking..."so what if they throw me in jail? anything is better than this".

And, last time, that's what they did. They threw me in jail and when I woke up the next morning, they were deporting some of my cell mates.

But this time, I tried to drive slower past Goodland, KS. I think I was going 91 in a 75? i saw a cop but he didn't stop me.

Eventually, I made it to Colorado somehow. I managed to almost get pulled over by the Morrison speed trap because he was coming off of Jefferson County Highway 8 and merging onto 285 while I was screaming past cars trying to get home. I'll never know why he didn't pull me over.

I should point out that the bike has no plates on it. As in zero. And the only insurance I have is just photoshopped nonsense I made just for the trip.

Here's a map of roughly where I rode today:


One of the things that really struck me on this trip was that, even as I approached the Denver airport on I-70 from the east side, I had no clue about this area. Like..I've probably only seen it one time in my life. And it's really strange to realize that...to see how familiar the home around us is, but then we just step out a tiny litttle bit, and you're in some terrain that you've never seen before. Very odd.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 9, 2017 at 11:16 AM : Comments (1) | Permalink

July 7, 2017

Day 1 on the new bike

So, I get up this morning at 3:00 a.m. and drive to the airport for a 5:20 a.m. flight to Dallas. Surprisingly, I landed at Love FIeld. I don't think I've ever flown into Love Field, and I lived in Dallas for 7 years.

Then, I wander around and find the connecting gate, and hop on a plane to Little Rock (Bill and Hillary Clinton National Airport). Then, I rent a car from Enterprise, and drive from Little Rock to Russellville, Arkansas, about 80 miles away.

Find the place, walk in. They don't have it ready for me, even though they said that they would. They wheel it away to do Lord knows what to it. Gas it up, apparently.

I pay them more money than I ever have before for a motorcycle. They put a paper license plate on the back that says "HONDA".

They guy follows me to drop off my Enterprise rental car in Russellville, about 5 miles away. Then, I ride back with him to the Honda dealership.

I've paid them the money, and signed a bunch of papers. They hand me the key, the spare key, show me where the owners manual is (under the seat).

The guy helps me set the clock, because the time is wrong.

At some point, my boss texts me and asks if I'm taking today off. "I'm traveling," I offer. As if that makes it ok somehow.

"I'll be on the teleconference",
and I take off, hell bent for leather.

Im driving about 85 mph in a 70 mph zone and I pass a cop. I'm sure he's coming for me, so I exit and hide for a while, Eventually, I get up the courage to get back on I-40 westbound. Then, I pass another cop, but this time I'm only going like 75-80. I'm trying to get the Fort Smith in time for the teleconference.

This cop doesn't come after me either, I dunno why.

So, that's twice that I've passed cops when I was speeding and they didn't come after me. And, I have no license plate. And I stayed up late creating phony insurance documents. All for naught, it would seem.

Finally, I roll into Fort Smith. McDonalds has Wifi. YES! So, I plop down at 2:50 just in time to call in and realize that I have another hour before the teleconference. Argh!

I sit down at a McDonald's and start into this teleconference, connecting people all over North America...SF, Toronto, and Fort Smith Arkansas. Lord.

THey want me to share my screen and I'm like..."I can't do that...I'm not smart enough...I'll just explaint the problem to you."

The truth is that I really don't know where to go on my bike. I don't really know why I'm here, or why I bought it, or where to go next. All I know is that, it's got to get better than this. Because this isn't working.

I guess that I'll ride it back to Denver. But, I should mention that this is nothing but a coin toss. I am very close to driving back to Jackson, MS and spending next week there.

I think that, because my boss got onto me about not working today, I'm inclined to ride back towards Denver, instead of Jackson.

It is 97 degrees F in the shade out there. I'm sweating like a whore in church. And now, I've got to somehow try to make it back to Denver without dying from the speed wobbles. This bike does not handle as well as my KTM, IMHO. But, I'm going to try to get back to Denver this weekend.

I think that today is Friday.

Here is a map of roughly where I rode today.

This map shows I went 458 miles. My bike shows that I went 500 miles. I did a little bit of back-tracking when I got turned around in Tulsa. I ended up in the North end of Tulsa, and it's not a safe area, I can assure you.

Also, it dawns on me that I'm dying of thirst, so I stopped in at a gas station and get 2 massive gatorades. This is one of the cardinal rules of riding a bike. Carry food and liquids with you. If you break down, and are stranded, you will need food and water. It's all about survival. So I stock up on gatorade.

Then, I was going west on US Highway 412, going west out of Tulsa, and I'm heading right into the maw of this massive thunderstorm. But, I'm thinking that, at some point, I'm supposed to run north on I-35 somewhere near Perry, OK. So, sure enough, just as it start to rain on me, we turn north on I-35, and I basically outrun a very nasty storm.

Now, as I'm going North of I-35, I finally see that there's an indicator that shows how much gas is in the tank. And, of course, I decide to push it to see how far I can go. My goal is to go 200 miles on a tank, but really, I can only get about 150 miles.

And, now the gas light indicator is flashing, and I only have 0.8 gallons left, and I'm about to run out of gas in the middle of BFE Kansas, but by the grace of God, there's a gas station and I stop and fill up with only a few miles to spare.

Also, my Garmin Montana is completely drained, and the Honda Africa Twin has no USB ports. It appears to have a cigarette lighter, so I try to pull the cover off while I'm driving down the road, but it won't budge. So I push it in, and it disappears down inside the bowels of the motorcycle. Huh.

So, I have no GPS. Only a cell phone, which is tough to use while I'm driving down the highway.

Oh yes...also...there are many toll roads. I'm not clear why. But there are toll roads all over in Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Kansas. But, the beauty of the Toll Roads is that my bike has no plates. It just has a piece of paper that says HONDA.

So, I go through all of the "toll-tag only" lanes, and blow through them, knowing that, even if they take photos of me, that have no clue who I am, as the bike has no plates.

Finally, I'm driving north on I-135, run running balls out. The speed limit is 75 mph, and I'm following this car and he's going 90 mph, and we run like this for about an hour, it seems.

My goal is to make it to Salinas, Kansas, becuase then, I think that I'll have driven more than half of the distance today. And I'm looking for a place to stay for the night, because it's about 11:30 p.m., and it's dark and I really don't need to be driving at night and I'm looking for a room, and I roll up on this hotel that has about 50-100 motorcycle riders in the parking lot.

So, I ask if they got a good rate, and I go to the front desk and explain that I'm with the motorcycle riders, and my rate is $75 a night. Woohoo!

The bikers are in some sort of cult where they have rides around Kansas, but they're in every state, apparently, and they donate money to people who are victims of house fires, apparently.

Their motorcycle club is called the Fire and Iron club, I think.

So, I check in and crash for the night. My plan is to get up early and hit the road again. Another long day tomorrow.

I rode roughly 500 miles today. It looks like I've got roughly the same distance to ride tomorrow.


I originally wasn't sure where I was going to go when I picked up my new bike. Part of me wanted to go to Mississippi and hang out there next week. But my boss discovered that I was traveling this morning instead of working, and he was pretty upset about it. So, I figured that it would be a better move to just ride the bike back to CO, and keep it there for the summer. I'm supposed to be in Oakland on Monday, apparently.

Also, I should mention that the bike now handles very well. It's a smooth riding bike, and I'm very comfortable on it. I just lean over the handlebars, and run about 90 mph in a 70 mph zone.

Once the sun went down, it cooled off considerably, so I kept riding. Because, in the heat of the day, I was roasting and thought I was going to die. It was the hottest day of the year so far in Russellville and Fort Smith. I was roasting.

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 7, 2017 at 2:43 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink

July 6, 2017

Let's Fly to Arkansas

So, it would seem as though I'm flying into Arkansas to pick up a new motorcycle tomorrow. I don't really know why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. I've pretty much exhausted my Honda XR650L's here in Colorado. Like...I'm just burnt out on them. They're not fast enough on the highway. I want a motorcycle I can ride in the mountains this summer. And something that I can drive down to South America when the winter sets in.

So, I've set my sights on the Honda Africa Twin. And, after looking around, the cheapest price I can find on one is in Russellville, Arkansas. Even if I have to fly into Little Rock, rent a car, drive 80 miles to Russellville, leave the car at the Honda dealership with the keys in it and the engine running, and then just ride away into the sunset. Even if I do that, it's still cheaper than buying the bike in SF.

So today, I broke down and put a deposit on the bike, got a cashier's check for the remainder, bought a SouthWest one-way plane ticket from Denver to the Bill and Hillary Clinton Airport in Little Rock, Arkansas, rented a car from Enterprise via Orbitz, fabricated some insurance papers, and somehow, now it looks like it might really happen. That things might really come together. I have to admit that I didn't have a plan on how to get 80 miles - from Little Rock to Russellville. I had already committed to buying the bike, and bought a plane ticket, before I decided to use a one-way rental car to get to Russellville. That was the biggest hole in my plan. Also, I didn't like the idea of flying with more than $10K in cash. So, the cashier's check was the solution suggested by the motorcycle dealership.

So, now, it seems like I'm heading to Arkanasas very early in the morning. Boarding time is at 4:50 a.m. So, that means the flight takes off at 5:20 a.m., which means that I need to leave here at 3:00 a.m. - 3:20 a.m. Ouch. That's going to suck.

Oh, and tomorrow is a work day, also.

It looks like I have a teleconference at 3:00 p.m. MDT, 2:00 pm. CDT. Argh.

Now, I have to get ready for the big trip. Get together all of my riding gear, etc.

Why does my life have to be so complicated?

Let's see, I'm already checked into my flight. I have my reservation number at Enterprise Car Rental. I have my cashier's check. Now, to pack....ugh....

But, suddenly, in the wake of all of this breathless action, something is gained. I collect the trash out of the yard that the bears drug out there last week. I take a shower and trim my toenails, which look they belong on some animal. I charge my electronics and copy the files off of them. All of this just sort of happens, seemingly without effort or planning. All of these things that seem impossible when I'm lying in bed, now suddenly seem like they're ridiculously easy, and it makes me wish I'd learn from this and not retreat into this shell, as I'm so often want to do.

Now, charging camera batteries.
Copy the files off of my Garmin Montana 600.


So, I'm finally getting around to copying the .gpx files off of my Garmin Montana 600.

1) Launch EasyGPS.
2) Click on "Receive (from GPS)" icon.
3) Click OK.

Looks like these GPS tracks are from March, April, May 2017.
So, now I see them in my EasyGPS app, but there's no topo map or anything. So, I save them off as s:\garmin\2017_05_California_Mexico.gpx

Deleting Tracks from the Garmin Montana 600.

Click on Up arrow at bottom center of screen on Garmin Montana 600.
Click on Track Manager.
Click on Archived Tracks.
Select the top track.
Click on Delete.
Click on Delete again.
Rinse. Repeat.

OK. So, I copied off and then deleted all of my tracks from the Garmin Montana 600.

Now, charging camera batteries, iphone, GoPro Hero 5 Black Edition, Garmin Montana 600, MacBook Air, etc.

Printed out a copy of my insurance papers, and I should be good to go.

Now, lets' see....It's 1:00 a.m., and my plane leaves at 5:20 a.m., which means it starts boarding at 4:50 a.m. In theory, I should leave for my flight at 2:50 a.m., or 3:20 a.m. at the absolute latest. Lord. Why do I do these things?

Posted by Rob Kiser on July 6, 2017 at 10:03 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink