Going Going Back Back

Day 3.  We had a late start rolling out of Aaron and Ron's house, but we had the opportunity to preview Tron on their 3D television.  It was challenging to leave their cushiony living room after doing ninety miles the day before.  But we dug deep and got on the road at about 1 p.m.  We turned right onto Pico Rd.

It wasn't for about ten, downhill miles with the wind at our back that we realized that we should have turned left.  We passed a bunch of guys wearing yamakas, then we passed a bunch of Chinese restaurants, then we started passing some liquor stores, and Stuie said, "Whoa, Rob.  I'm going to check the map.  I don't think we're headed towards the beach."

We stopped.  I watched the action on the basketball court across the street while Stuie checked the map.  An old black guy wearing a beat up bowler cap walked up to me and said, "That ain't the way to get out of the ghetto, son."  He pointed to the basketball court.  I agreed with him, and Stuie and I rode back, uphill and against the wind.

Stuie's knee started to hurt after a while.  Shouldn't'a gone 90 miles yesterday.  We stopped about twenty miles north of our original location.  Didn't want to mess up his knee too badly. We ate a Clif Bar and went over our options.  We were too far from the city to walk back.  No campgrounds around.  Hotels in that area are too expensive.  We decided to walk up the road to the next town to try to hitch a ride at a gas station.  That town turned out to be Malibu--not the friendliest spot for hitchhikers with loaded bikes.  BMW's don't have much leg room.  Just give me a nice mini-van.

The gas station was lovely.  Six different people with a vehicle big enough for the four of us (Stu, The Mango Sentinel, LO Ryder, and me) turned us down before we found a ride.  A nice beach bum-type told us he'd give us a ride back to Santa Monica.  His van already had four people in it.  Cramped.  We held out for something better.  A few minutes later, we found a firefighter to give us a ride all the way to Sam Pavlat's home in west LA.  That's where we're staying tonight.

Here we are: back in LA and watching 8 Mile.  Stu's knee is hurt.  We're a day behind schedule.  And the insides of my elbows are sunburned.  What will we do?  Stay tuned...