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Day 1

5/25/96

For Memorial Day weekend, I've decided to take my rollerblades to Los Angeles, and go rollerblading on the sidewalk along the beach.

I've been having some trouble lately with the reserve switch on the fuel tank for the motorcycle. The result is that after about 100 miles, I run out of gas, and there is no reserve available. I spent some time looking at the problem last night, but found no solution.

That's why I stopped at Tri-City sports yesterday. I bought 3 metal fuel bottles to carry along a little extra fuel, in case I run out along Hwy 5. Hwy 5 connects San Francisco and Los Angeles, and is exceptionally long, straight, and bleak.

Here are the other items I am carrying on this trip:

Motorcycle: 1985 Yamaha VMax, 1200cc. Serial #113 (first year for VMax).

Saddlebags:
(right side)


(left side)
For easy accessibility, I tucked a couple of items in the top of each saddlebag:
Backpack:
(main compartment)
(outside pocket)
Rollerblades

I woke up at 5:30 AM today to pack for the trip. My roomate, Cuong, said "Have a nice ride.", and he left for a chess tournament this morning. This is of note because Cuong doesn't usually say much, and those words sounded much too final.

I removed the old wheels and bearing from my rollerblades to install new ones. One of the little bearings was frozen, and had tiny metal sprinkles all over the inside. It was almost...cute. I wondered to myself if a girl would think it was cute, then concluded -- probably not.

My friend Chuck has recently moved back to the Los Angeles area, and I had left a message on his phone to say I would be in the area. He called back around 11 AM, and said it would be fine for me to stay at his place. Chuck and I know each other from college, where we studied many of the same aerospace engineering classes. He worked at San Dia National Labs in New Mexico for a while, where they do a lot of particle physics stuff. Now he's moving back to L.A. to work for McDonnell Douglas, and a new startup company called Silicon Microstructures, which designs micro-electromechanical systems for use in satellites.

When Cuong returned around 11:30 AM, I was still at home, but just about to leave. He had won second place in his group.

After stopping for lunch at Pollo's for a chicken burrito, I continued south along Hwy 101 to leave the San Francisco Bay area. Traffic was fine until just south of San Jose, where I came to almost a standstill - a result of Memorial Day, no doubt. The sun beat down on all of us waiting on the road, and my motorcycle missed a beat every now and then, as the engine threatened to overheat. After about 40 minutes or so, the traffic dissipated.

I continued down Hwy 101 to Hwy 152 to Hwy 5. Trucks crawled in the right lane, trying to make it up the golden, grassy hills along Hwy 152. I passed San Luis Reservoir, sparking some memories of a past windsurfing trip. Only 2 windsurfers were out on the water -- 1 was uphauling. That means that there wasn't much wind. Even the windmills of the nearby powerstations had folded up their blades, and were not operating.

Soon as was at Hwy 5, and began the long, strait 300 mile shot down to L.A. I had to stop for gas along the way about every 75 miles. At one gas station, a man in a cowboy hat had stopped his pickup and horse trailer just 10 feet short of the pump -- out of gas. I dumped some water in my helmet, and it was nice and cool when I slopped it back on.

The road was long.

I stopped at the foot of the Grapevine to fill up on gas and call Chuck. The Grapevine is the long series of hills just north of Los Angeles. The smell of scorched brake linings was strong as I waited at the telephone booth. A Spanish-speaking family stood around a car that bubbled steam through its radiator overflow container.

The sun was setting as I ascended the grapevine, and soon it was dark. On the other side, the L.A. freeway traffic was very fast. It had been a long day, and I said "hooray" to myself as I finally saw the "Springdale" exit that I had been watching for.

Once I found the apartment complex, I had to hunt to a little bit to find the apartment number, but eventually I found Chuck's place. His mother was visiting.

Chuck and I talked until late hours of friends that we had known in college.

And then I slept.

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