Sistercousin Tows an Old Friend

It’s about that time of year where I get a few weeks off in between edumacation times. These here times are golden, it’s time to ride!


So in preparation for happy non skool time, I reached out to my fellow sickly ill motorcycling friends, specifically looking for the funemployed and willing to travel.  I stumbled upon Linda, she checked all the boxes! She already had plans to ride up to Glacier National Park, sounded good to me! Until I looked at a map, that’s a long ways for this sister. That’s a lot of slab, which I do not want, not at all. Thankfully, a few days before our scheduled departure she came to her senses and canceled the slab’o’rama. We instead made “plans” to go ride in the mountains.

Off we went, I dun planned a loop, which I had just done a few days prior. (Getting the picture? I have a problem) It’s a nice loop, 1000 or so miles in 48 hours. Not aggressive at all!


We headed up towards Downieville/Quincy on for the first day, kind of slabby to get there, which makes me stabby. But we did it. Fun roads were slayed, smiles hidden in our helmets. Linda, in all her planning preparations did NOT bring a clear visor. So when dat sun went down, she was like “GO GO GO, I cannot see!”  Finally, at dusk, we made it to the hotel. (She doesn’t camp, so SisterCousin classed himself up for this trip, I even showered! Not once, but twice!!)

Upon arriving at the hotel, I asked her, “Did you see the sunset up on the ridge?! That is one of my favorite spots in California!” Linda replied, “No, I couldnt see anything! It was dark in my helmet”  Apparently I stomped around like an angry 5 year old hill billy denied his fried catfish. The horror!! She missed out on greatness.

Then, in true Quincy fashion, we pranced down to the local watering hole for refreshments. Beer was drank, Jameson was also drunken. She then whooped on the town pool master (who brought his own pool stick, you know he is serious)  Then she bought us dinner, fried chicken and jalapeno poppers. Sistercousin pigged out.

To sum up this story, we got nice and whoble-e on the walk back to the hotel. Mission accomplished!

I dun woke up early, hobbled down to get some breakfast, while Linda slept. She was hurting. Something about Asian genetics not digesting alcohol, what ever horse poo story that is.

In the morning, prepping for day 2:

I started mah shit bike and heard a weird, non normal shit bike sound.
It sounded like a Ducaca dry clutch rattle, but I do not has one of those!?

Bolts loosen, ShitBike just purges itself of unneeded items. 2/3 is good enough for GhettoTouring


We started riding, Day 2 start was kinda boring. We had to reroute a few times, which made the morning kind of drag on. Then we stopped for Cheeseburgers and map times.  I present to you, Sistercousin pre burger: “We go here and get durty now”


So we went there, and got durty!
But before getting durty, Linda was complaining about being tired. More or less, I told her to man up. But she couldn’t cause she is a lady. She needed a pick-me-up. I had just the right thing, but she was a bit weary… After convincing her, she agreed to have some of my hot juice. One zipper down and a big gulp of hawt juice later, she was all riled up and ready to slay dat dirt.

5 hour energy works miracles!


Shortly after the old DR brapp’d down the road. Nature called.
We’re still not sure if bears shit in the woods, but I am now confident that I do.

That burger was not sitting well, so I popped a squat and did business. While businessing, I glanced up and there was a bear about 50 yards away, just staring at me. I bet he was wondering if SisterCousin shit in the woods, he found out that I do!

As you can imagine, what ever shit was left inside me, was now in the bushes and I was running back towards mah ShitBike (only after wiping thoroughly, cause no one wants skid marked britches)
Cause fuck bears.
I’ve never put on gear so fast in my life. Thankgoodness for Stich and it’s easy on/off 6 second procedure. Get yourself one.


Our final destination for day 2 was Etna, we made it, more fun was had after bear pooping escapade.
Upon arriving in Etna, the first hotel we showed up to was “Booked solid” with no cars in the parking lot…

The grumpy hotel lady gave us directions to the only other place in town a B&B, what ever. SisterCousin likes breakfast.

We arrived, found out that they indeed had a room for us. But with only a King bed. Instantly, we exchanged the exact same glance of:

“Don’t you fucking touch me when I sleep”

Problem solved, bed acquired. Breakfast too!


The B&B was a pretty cool little place, but it reminded this cousin of a retirement home. They had a shack set up for PCT hikers (Pacific Crest Trail), there were a bunch of stinky hikers. I like sick and deranged people. So I wandered down yonder with mah flask to make new friends and hear crazy stories. Friends were made, all the whiskey was drank, then I heard a very interesting conversation…

The hikers were talking about relationships and how or how not they are working on the trail, or with loved ones back home. This german feller was like “I told my girl friend that I wanted to hike the PCT”, “she was not happy” , “But it’s my life, and I need to do what makes me happy”

All the american hikers were like “You’re a horrible person, you do not care about her or the relationship?!? Fuck you”

His response was simply amazing

“I cannot care about her or the relationship if I myself am unhappy with my own life, thankfully she came to her senses and understood”

I laughed. Long and hard. But it’s true! Can I blame my German heritage?

Day 3: More riding, epic riding actually.

Like, 6 straight hours of twisty,bendy,dirty goodness. No cars, no people, no stop lights, just mountains.
I cannot explain this. It is magical. You must experience it for yerself.

Just so much goodness


But after 6 hours of goodness, Linda’s brain was tired. So she bailed and brappp’ed away down 101 back to the bay area.
Myself on the other hand… aimed for the coast, for more bendy squiggles. I somehow managed to make a 5 hour ride, take 3.5 hours, with a 5 minute beer stop.

How? You might ask.

I’ve been testing this theory lately. While riding, take your right hand, twist it backwards with firm vigor and hold it there, often. It seems to make the miles go by quicker and bigger shit eating grins and giggles. The jury is still out on if this is “safe” But I will continue my testing. Stay tuned until next time!


Keep the dented side up.

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