Okay, I rode 18,450 miles before changing the suspension. Perhaps this is even the first historical Buddy suspension change? If not, it’s in the top 10, I bet. Oh, and since the Ducati boys threw on some Conti Zippy 1’s, the final homestretch promises to be even smoother!

Audre (the scooter) also left Ducati with a classy piece of Rat Fink comic art “tattooed on her. Except it’s called “Peace Fink.” Now I have cool art to look at over the next 3,500 miles!

What better way to test this new improved ride than by riding all day? After picking up Audre from the shop, I zoomed off for an afternoon riding with the boys. To be exact; my three friends from last year, Chuck, Ken, and Ralph, and my new friend, Orin. I’ve heard of Orin through the blogosphere and his writing keeps me up to date on Seattle scooter scene. In exchange for the kind words he’s put in for me along the way, I let him ride the Peace Scooter.

I admit, even though I told him, “ride it like you stole it,” after a bit of time passed, I was twitchy.

I was along on their scouting ride for the rally next week. It was a fun ride, but I preferred the one they took me on last year. That was an impromptu ride that the West Enders Club treated me to; we scooted all around Seattle. I enjoy riding with this club. They are all witty, talkative, generous and also-experienced riders. No showboating, they just love riding and they do it well.
After scouting we headed to a BBQ.
Not just any BBQ, mind you, but a rather fun event-the Secret Sunset Scoot and Skewer. They even had buttons made for the event!

Did I mention the jousting?

An hour before sunset we all mounted our steeds and scooted off for the sunset location. There was a good crew of us and with festive attitude we honked and waved at all the oglers. It was quite a bit of riding, almost a mini rally for me at day’s end. Unfortunately and the reason still unknown, my camera shots are lackluster. Perhaps the settings were changed? Sorry guys and gals!

We made it just in time to watch the sunset. It was a moving experience. Heh.

People are good to me. Thanks People!

Watching the sunset made me excited for the turn East that I will soon begin. That final homestrech towards Washington D.C.!

For more videos and photos, visit MY FLICKR!

The first thing I touched this morning was a dead cat. Ralph.

Ralph fell off the ledge today from the 25th floor.

At 5:30 am I woke up to people talking loudly. I asked them to talk in the other room.
I didn’t know they were talking about Ralph. I got up, went to the bathroom. Chad, sitting at his computer, in the faint sunrise light, points to Ralph. “The cat fell, he’s dead.”

Honestly, I thought he was messing with me. It was 5:30 am, afterall. I just barely knew where I was.

No one said, “Hey, we are talking loudly because we just brought our dead cat upstairs.” Ralph appeared to be stretched out, snoozing contentedly.

At 9:00am I see the cat looks, eerily, exactly the same. So I reach down to stroke him and the early morning snippets come back to me. I say, “Hey something is wrong with Ralph.”
Shaun say, “Yes, Yes we told you that.”
Oh Lord. I feel like a jerk.

Well, he did fall. I came home at 1:30pm from the Pride Festival. Chad is trying to process that he lost his favorite cat. Ralph is still in the living room

It was clearly time to act.
I call two emergency vets. Chad wants Ralph buried in his birthplace-Georgia.
Problematic. The vets insist on cremation. This is not going to happen.
I decide to call a funeral home.
I ask the nice lady, “So, how do you handle a body? Like, if your Aunt dies while you are on vacation, how do you get her home? Our pet died and we want to ship it back home.”
She explains it must be embalmed and to call a taxidermist. She also emphasized that toxicity and decomposition are factors we should handle immediately. I give Chad the options I’ve come up with so far.
So, we head out to buy a cooler and some dry ice. Ralph is now on his way to the great outdoors.

From the Atlantic to the Pacific-Ralph, may mice everywhere be yours for the catching and Ralph-may you also have eternal catnip…..

I made a final stop by Corazzo on the way out of the Rose City. Still hopeful I might get a foosball game out of Chad, I made like I wanted to film the shop. Well, it is a rather nice shop. And I do adore Cletis, the puppy.

Fortunately for Chad, the foosball table was covered with merchandise. I even got a quick glance at the prototype for the Speedway Women’s Mesh jacket-although it was whisked away from me before the camera captured any official glimpse.
We took some photos and I was off for some espresso. I passed out some postcards at Stumptown Coffee and it turns out one of the girls was from Maine. I still get confused where I’m from, exactly.

Yes, yes, I grew up in Virginia, but just two weeks before the P.E.A.C.E SCOOTER ride, I moved all belongings to Maine. Sometimes when people ask I say Maine, sometimes Virginia. The PO Box address for these fine Peace postcards is in Maine.

Speaking of, another one came in! Keep sending ‘em in if you’ve got ‘em! I would love to do a gallery exhibition with them and photographs of kind folk I’ve met along the way!

The drive to Seattle was long and full of wrong turns, some my fault, some Google’s fault and the rest could have been avoided WITH PROPER ROAD MARKINGS. I crossed a lot of bridges lately, with the route snaking along the Columbia River. After close to a perfect ride, I happened upon a large bridge.

And it was perfect too. Although, traffic was heavy and I spotted a motorcycle, ambulance and fire truck. This was unsettling and I pulled over for a second to call on my angels! Just then I spotted an ambulance headed my way and so I pulled in front of it, knowing they would give me lots of space. Well played.

Halfway through the bridge I entered Washington and raised my arm in victory.

Most of the ride was through small, conservative towns and was speckled with amusing and scary signage. After a 9 hour ride, I arrived at my hosts house. The misdirections added on a bunch of time, but the scenery was purty. An hour before 8pm, I called Shaun.

Remember Shaun? He’s here in Seattle and his friend is hosting us. Shaun let me know that I should push on, despite the hunger and cold. He also told me the sun wouldn’t set until 9pm. Weird, but good. The last stretch was a little tricky, navigating numerous potholes on an industrial road, but I arrived safely nonetheless. His words were the encouragement I needed-as was the festive spirit of a parade that I rode through in Yelm, WA.

I woke up this morning in a fancy high rise apartment with a view of Mt. Rainer. Gorgeous. Oh, and Starbucks brewed fresh for free in the lobby. Schmancy, but FREE. Today was a taking care of business day. Scooter stuff that is.

I know and trust the mechanics at Ducatti Seattle. They work on 15,000 dollar machines after all. Audre needed a full diagnostic and is even having an overnight visit at the doctors. She had a new front fork put on, as well as rear shock, new headlight, oil change, and new back tire. The back tire was iffy-but better to take care of it now before heading into the deserted Big Sky Country.

With my steed taken away, I decided just to hang out at the shop today. Good people there and it was totally chill. So chill that I fell asleep in the showroom reading the Vespa Bible. Robert woke me up and sent me upstairs to the couch, where I took powernap #2.

Perhaps I was pooped from the excitement of an interview with the local news. Wow! A real news interview! Somewhat serendipitously, a reporter was in the shop, switching up her 50cc for a 150cc. David, the dapper, joyous proprietor, connected us. After a look at the scooter and a brief chat, I guess she decided P.E.A.C.E SCOOTER IS newsworthy. WOW!

An hour later Denise and Rey were on location! I tend to be camera shy, but only because most reporters ask dim, slanted questions. But not Denise. Hopefully they do the story justice, it comes out tomorrow. They stayed for over an hour, so it’s hopeful that they wanted to put together a good piece. Denise is a motorcycle rider and also just keen and kindhearted. They both signed the scooter and then Denise let me film her defining Peace! You know that’s cool!

We discussed Peace, anti-war sentiments, alternative transportation, the rigors of a long ride, parking spaces for motorcycles, generosity of strangers, logistics and the origin of the idea to make a 22,000 mile Peace sign.

If you’ve read this blog from the beginning, you know that Seattle rolled out the red carpet last year. I made rounds, checking up on those generous people and saying thanks again. We had dinner at Buca di Bepo’s and the manager covered the whole check. This is a bustling Italian restaurant, apparently a chain, but it feels pretty unique. The staff at this one are really genuine. We talked about peace and traveling to the different people who stopped by the table to say “HI.” Last year Tracy opened the restaurant to cook me up a whopping plate of pasta and then treated me to two nights at the Marriott!

It’s an early night with this crowd, but that’s cool. Chad showed us how to make “fizzy bombs” by dropping Mentos mints into a 2 liter of Diet Coke. It’s a thing Bernard from Still Life with a Woodpecker would have learned how to do in 4th grade. It shot straight up about 4 feet! Big fun!

Since it’s chill tonight, I’m figuring out the schedule for the final part of the route! Only 4,000 miles left! I’ve decided to add a two day stop in Coeur D’ Alene, Idaho, en route to Missoula, MT. Last year I blew through there and it looked very interesting. It is, after all, an area known for white supremacy, so there’s bound to be interesting Peace conversations.

The rest of the weekend will be very hectic. Tomorrow is a group ride and BBQ with the West Enders group. There is a Gay Pride Parade on Sunday, with a group of scooterists riding in it and that could be fun. The same day is the Mods vs. Rockers Scooter Ride. For those who don’t know, this is a classic rivalry between scooterists. It was best dramatized in the rock opera by The Who, turned into a movie also called Quadrophenia. And then there is Eric, a talented writer also on a long scooter haul. Our routes have led us across the country and here at the same time, so hopefully we meet.

Feel free to check out the flickr sets and leave your definition of Peace!
Here is a video of crossing the Burnside Bridge into downtown Portland:
Here is a video of the random parade. They said it was a celebration of the Prairie?!
Here is a video of Corazzo. WOOOO!

Congratulations to “Mikie Taps” from Seattle, WA–

You have SX Appeal!!

AND CONGRATULATIONS TO ALIX–FRIDAY MAKES 8 WEEKS ON THE ROAD SCOOTIN’ FOR PEACE! (in 2008)

FOR A GRAND TOTAL OF 21 WEEKS SO FAR!!
RIDE STEADY AND CONGRATULATIONS ON ANOTHER STATE LINE!!

Thank you to everyone who participated in the Top Case Raffle. The raffle raised a grand total of $290.00—The $250 goal was met just 5 days and 2 hours after opening the raffle! We didn’t even have time to give a day’s notice that it was closing–you guys really pulled through! Thanks!

The math on the Raffle proceeds:

TOTAL RAISED FOR PEACE, ENVIRONMENT & COMMUNITY MINDED ORGANIZATIONS (from this raffle): $290.00

Peace Alliance: $73.00

The Last Mile: $14.00

Scootin’ For a Cure: $14.00

An Environmental Org TBA: $73

P.E.A.C.E Scooter Support: $116

THANK YOU!

This Portland stop- I can’t say if it went fast or slow. If I stayed just the right length of time or not enough.
Try to imagine what it’s like to find “home” on the road. The whole point of being on the road is that you aren’t at home. So it’s tricky. A seasoned traveler masters the art of appreciating unfamiliar spaces and faces; unfamiliar becomes familiar. Comfort becomes simply a shelter away from the scooter, traffic and elements. Loose definitions.

Since I’m not on a vacation and don’t have money to stay wherever I wish, kind folks around the country host me. And it goes really well. So far there has only been one time that was sorta awkward and that wasn’t because of my host. That was the other person she was also hosting.

I rarely visit with folks I’ve known for more than 10 years. I’ve known Erika since 1997. That’s cool. She’s seen me grow up. And her new homestead, Portland is beginning to feel like home. I can navigate around on my own pretty easily.

Thanks to their passion (and funding) I’ve been able to sample lots of tasty vittles. If you visited me here, I would know where to take you. I like that. Of course, there is lots more to explore, I can tell. I’m leaving with a sense that I’ll be back and quite hopefully with the dog and partner. Packing up the bags wasn’t so hard last night; staying has been tough, because I’m jumping ahead of myself. Duh, this isn’t home. I still have 4,000+ miles before I’m home and there’s no time to start missing mine.

My room had exploded, my stuff was everywhere and I caught myself reading three different publications. How nice to pretend I was home, on my floor in our house. I introduced them to Flight of the Conchords and so my evenings have been spent watching TV. Weird. I never do this. I was disappointed that after show 8 the writing wasn’t as good, but there were still some chuckles. Mary rides a scooter, too. Lots of people ride scooters here. There are like 6 scooter shops. And Corazzo, crafter of most things I wear while aboard my scooter-underhoody, jacket, gloves, and messenger bag!

I’m a selective person, I deliberate heavily before I buy. Last year, I searched and searched for a jacket. I looked online and went to motorcycle shops. Finally, at the scooter shop, tucked behind a sparse selection of lame jackets, I see the Corazzo jacket. Of course, it wasn’t my size, but it had lots of potential. The lame local scooter shop said, “two weeks before delivery.” I didn’t believe this and took matters into my own hands. Two days later, I had my Corazzo 5.0 jacket. And it fit, perfectly. Good, I had lost sleep worrying. I was leaving in two days, afterall. I would be screwed if this didn’t work.

Chelsea from Scoot Richmond also gave me her heavier Corazzo. Riding at this year means the weather conditions are volatile. So far, I’ve used three different kinds of jackets to deal with the climate. I’m riding with the heavier one now.

So, here in Portland, I have the chance to visit these fine folks. Cletis, the puppy, greeted me at the door. Then out comes Chad and then Bradford. We chatted; I chased puppy around, playing a fine game of tug of war and even some frisbee. Chad asked for a stack of my postcards and said he stuffs them in with single jacket purchases. That’s so cool. They gave me some hi-tech Carbone gloves. How nice! It’s strange to retire my others, but they are worn and offer no warmth.

Yesterday I was rushing to fit in little stops around the city. So after checking out Chad’s fine scooter, I was off. I’m fascinated with these two wheel machines and there is still much to learn.

Next was a visit with someone I met last year.

Justin, who runs Vespa Portland and Scooter King, which sells Genuine. Justin just switched locations and is now probably the contender for best scooter shop. In his old shop, you had hold your breath to get past someone, now we could breakdance and roller skate inside, it’s a huge warehouse. But it’s accented with warm, smart colors and just the right amount of boutique and rockin warehouse.

I played sales lady and talked to several customer; even helped answer some questions. Justin has more scoots than I’ve seen anywhere around the country. But, he’s out of the Buddy, for right now. This new scooting frenzy is unbelievable. Justin bought some P.E.A.C.E SCOOTER shirts. I wished him lots of luck, left some postcards with him and went to meet my friends for dinner.

The vegetarian dish I had at Swagats was scrumptious. Our conversation was amazing. The ride home was supposed to be easy. We were headed home to finish our shows and trade music. Erika asked if I was ok with the bridge. I thought she meant the Steel Bridge, and that one is ok. But she meant the Stadium Freeway Bridge, which is part of the highway!

I was following her and was still dubious that we were actually getting on the highway, even though we were clearly getting on the highway. I thought to myself that the ramp would actually lead us to another road, which is the case in many cities. You get on just for a second to get you over, if that makes sense.

Then I see, around the bend, a quite expansive bridge. And it’s high up. The wind pummeled me and our merging lane dumped us into the fast lane. A tractor trailer was beside me. And then another behind it. I was in the fast lane going 30. I couldn’t control my scoot in the strong wind, especially right now, with the suspension the way it is. I threw on the hazards and felt like this might be the end. Erika was gone. It was me alone, struggling. She’s not used to scooters. It’s beyond her. She would have no idea what it was like in my head right now. My arms were limp, this happens when I get nervous. I plugged along. People gave me sympathetic looks as they drove by. I think they were scared for me and wanted to distance themselves. Their looks gave reassured me. Had I been in California, someone would have made me a hood ornament. Thanks Oregon!

Phew. I made it and then I was on the Interstate. Yay! I’ve never been so happy to be on an Interstate. I jumped off AT THE FIRST EXIT and navigated my way home. See, I know where I’m going. I actually beat them home, but that’s because they were waiting at the exit further down the road. I almost puked. I had a full belly and there had been no time to steel myself for what was ahead, as I have in most bridge crossing situations.

So that’s my bridge story. We swapped some music and I plotted the route to Seattle. I’m well rested and caught up on work, kinda sorta. I’ve even had some Stumptown espresso. I’m in the Pacific Northwest, afterall, and I know exactly the shop to visit the SECOND I arrive in Seattle. Cafe Vivace. With the cold, I had to cut back on caffeine. Now it’s time to plunge into the thick, pungent espressos that await me. Crude oil. Yum!

I’m excited to switch back into traveler mode. I will be volunteering in Seattle and going on a group ride. If you are there, maybe we can meet. Let’s have some espresso!

I’ve moved all my stuff in, I have my own floor here in Portland. The house is so yummy. Can a house be yummy? Well, sure. It’s painted in bright, citrus colors, yellow, tangerine and green, that are oh so pleasant. I have two friends here, no make that three if you count Henry, the dog. Audre is outside, I wish she could come in. We haven’t ridden in two days! She just hit 18,000 miles, yowzers! I’ve been neglecting the classic turning odometer photos.

Portland has been very high on the potential home-to-be one-day-in-the-future list. For now, I happily keep my address near the East Coast Portland, Maine. But the West Coast Portland has many, many prospects. My hosts love eating. That’s mostly what I’ve done so far, along with some nice walks, conversations and lots of work. (blah)

Oh my body, sitting on this scooter for a total of 18,000 miles. Yes, there was a winter break, but I never recooped from the last long haul. And winter is for hibernating! What a great feeling to walk and walk-blood pumping hard through my heart and limbs, with sore legs today.

We went through a lovely rose garden. The dog Henry was almost more pooped than me. We played his favorite game. Check out the little video below- he loves jumping and hanging from the tree. I was worried, but apparently, he is engineered for this. My dog’s favorite exercise is moping. Just kidding, but there is no way the little guy could pull these stunts. Henry is a happy guy after being rescued 4 years ago!

Oh, the food! Last night was homecooking and then my fave-popcorn, with nutritional yeast and Braggs. I introduced Mary and Erika to Flight of the Conchords and we enjoyed many gut laughs. Fun show with songs that get stuck in your head and people wonder, “what, what, what is she singing?!!”

Tonight we indulged at the Screendoor, with lots of great comfort and soul food. Okra! Fried Green Tomatoes! Mac and Cheese! Long gone are the gritty, dilapidated kitchens of NOLA, where only the soulfood shines. Although, there was Louisiana hot sauce on the table, sassing up my greedy portions of okra.

Then it was haircut time. My long, shaggy mane has been obstructing my view. Erika, hair sorceress, took care of this matter. She seems to prefer me with short hair. Oh, kinda sad to watch the curls go. But the new doo is fantastic! My helmet was feeling all pinchy on the temples and back of head. Especially with the hood up, which I need because temps are much cooler here in the NorthWest and might just get cooler as I head into Montana and North Dakota. Bye curls, I’ll grow you again.

Before:

After:

After spending the day getting caught up at “work,” I have lots to squeeze in tomorrow. Then it’s on to Seattle, leaving Thursday, I predict. I want to give the chap fixing Audre a bunch of time. He’s facing a lot of work; a new front fork and rear shock. Shaun is in Seattle, so I think I have a place to stay. He was successful in the first half of his solo scoot back home, making it to L.A. Then he bought a plane ticket to Seattle! For those asking how he is-thanks. I told him his fans want him to blog again. Wink. Wink.

Monday I leave Seattle and begin the turn home, heading East again. It’s all going so fast, yet I never feel rushed. But suddenly, it’s almost July! I’m more than halfway done this round! Ahead is Idaho, Montana, North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania and D.C. Then hopefully a victorious arrival at Scoot Richmond, maybe some people to toast with me! I’m tossing around in my head the idea of simply scooting home to Maine. It’s a 675 mile ride, at least. But, hey, that’s just two days!

Oh, the letters people have been sending! Oh, what wonderful people are in the world! Thank you thank you! Kelton-I will try to organize the photos, I promise. Last year I was so good about it. This year there are no stories about the people, places, and things-I know. Sorry! I stayed in a lot of cheap motels last year and had more time alone! At least I promise to do it when I’m done riding.

It’s off to bed so that I can rise early enough to squeeze in a bunch of last minute visits! Ciao from us three, er, four!

Henry’s Dance:

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Most of today is tied up doing research for my job. While traveling I can only seem to offer it a piddly 2 hours a week, but at the beginning of each month, I need to have some new bloggers lined up. Back in April, while plugging away at my barista job, I was offered this wonderful opportunity.

My two most interesting customers were involved in the design for a website, that is, ” a free non-profit online community BY and FOR people in recovery from addictions of all kinds. We welcome people of ALL stages of recovery using ANY method that works for them.” After reading through P.E.A.C.E Scooter, and even donating, thanks, they recognized that I must have some patience to sit behind a computer for awhile. And even some ability to be diplomatic when approaching new writers!

It’s a great situation, spending hours perusing blogs about how people are trying to improve and understand their life, if only by acknowledging that it is horrible. As Bertrand Russell says,

“The secret of happiness is to face the fact that the world is horrible, horrible, horrible– that you must feel that (first in the heart) and then you can start being Happy again.”

There is a gusto, a new respect for living, in these blogs that motivates me to believe past any slight inconvenience and suffering-obstacles are illusions.

One thing I’ve noticed today is that almost every blog has up a Carlin video. The man will live as long as youtube does and rightfully so. He could rant like no other. I have to link to one in particular, though there are many. The tagline caught my eye.

“It’s called the American dream because you have to be asleep to believe it.”

If you are at work, be mindful that it is Carlin, and turn down the volume some. It’s no where near as profane as some of his other stuff. Just some efffits.

A father and daughter just rode past the porch where I sit, typing and drinking coffee. The daughter was on a scooter also, the Lil Rascals kind and she says, “Dad, look a scooter!”

“That’s a Peace Scooter honey!” (they see the signs on my seat cover)

“Actually, it is a P.E.A.C.E SCOOTER”

The morning finds me in Portland. My health is much better now; made better also by the pace at which I’ve been able to travel. Once outside of Chico, CA the roads and drivers were friendlier. Thank you to all the well wishers who wrote encouragement!

In Oregon, they drive at a “reggae pace.” Also helpful is the speed limit, set statewide at 55 mph. Friday night I stayed at the Featherbed Inn, in Chemult, OR, near Crater Lake National Park. After the unwelcome patch of gravel that made me wipe out, I was greeted warmly by a $30 room, dogs, cats, and horses-oh and a comfy featherbed. Neither myself, nor the scooter were hurt in the spill. The saddlebags protrude so far from Audre’s flank that nothing else was harmed. I attempted to catch my footing and push us both upright, but we were on an incline, so at the last moment I bailed, landing upright.

I fed the horses and took some photos. I joked with the owner, Don, about trading in the scooter for his horse. It was a fantasy many years ago to ride cross country on what Tom says,” is the original scooter, one horsepower!” Chemult, OR is a town, or village, maybe one mile long; flanking the road are just a few restaurants, hotels, gas stations and a trailer park. In September, Chemult will be flooded by Japanese mushroom hunters. They are hunting the Maitake, known as the “dancing mushroom, ” because people would dance in celebration when they found it. Why? Well, it is worth its weight in silver.

People pay $35 a pound for it, sometimes more! Maitake has also proven itself as an effective cancer fighter and anti-viral, also used to regulate blood sugar levels. My research show that IT IS NOT a Japanese virility supplement, which I was told. Good, that restored the image of the Featherbed Inn as a quaint, little, rough around the edges but thoroughly charming motel. I don’t want the image stuck in my head of Japanese tourists desperate for an organic viagra!

Time meanders along here in Oregon, slipping slowly into a simple future. Of course, things are probably different here in the big city of Portland. But somehow I wake up and always have an seemingly extra four hours; taking time to relax, read, and enjoy the abundance of health food markets. And to enjoy the routes through gorgeous forests, like the Willamette National Forest, or sprawling farmlands where the greens and yellows of crops stretch for miles before bumping against tall blue and green snowcapped mountains.

My hosts in San Diego, who I miss very much, tried to secure hosting with their sister in Eugene. Sadly, the timing didn’t work for us, but Josna helped recruit a host for me. Jill seemed hesitant, but curious enough to open her small space for me. I arrived to Eugene in time for the Saturday Market, the main reason to visit the town. Many years ago I dropped out of college, ignoring my scholarship in order to experience a different type of education.

Raised mainly in the burbs, I felt a calling to uncover truths that were hidden among all the expectations of what a smart, successful white high school grad should do with her life. Success meant nothing to me if I couldn’t explore what failure meant. In the process of traveling I redefined what success really meant to me; it was the beginning steps of developing my own character, which had been shaped in part by a consumer culture. I lived on the streets, basically, and camped in forests with groups of people. I rarely called home and I found ways to support myself; although I would live on just $10 a day or less.

In the process of removing myself from the culture I was raised in, I became judgemental when I saw other people embodying that culture. I saw them representing the things I had just escaped. That is a natural mindset for many people who begin to experience a drastic change. Of course, anger and judgement are pointless. Really what changed my ways were accepting and forgiving myself-that it took me so long to become appreciative, humbled and deliberate about the way I spend my life here on this Earth.

While visiting Eugene, I saw many people who were searching and had a similar mindset to me years ago. I also saw a lot of stoned hippies and was saddened that it is often easier to get high and let the world and those suffering in it just slip away. People medicate themselves in many ways though, throughout all classes and cultures. I personally feel that the first steps in spiritual awakening are to heal yourself, but then to recognize the intersection between spirituality and activism.

The Saturday Farmers Market takes up four blocks; four blocks full of farm fresh produce, handcrafted wares, street performers, food vendors, stage music and hundreds of observers. I ate a delicious tofu salad on the courthouse steps while taking in the drum circle. The market has been in full swing since 1970.

There is a demand from locals to have local food. There are many benefits. Imagine how tasty and fresh the goods are-chock full of the nutrients you and your kid need. There is less gas used in transport, friendlier for the planet also with less CO2 pumped into the air. This also lowers the price AND your money stays within the community.

I walked around and handed out postcards and then went in search of a scooter shop. Mike was parked next to my scooter and after talking for a bit, offered to lead me to the Triumph shop. It turns out they sell Genuine. The mechanic, Hunter, was very nice to fit in a gear oil change free of charge, on such short notice-they closed in 30 min. I spoke with the owner, Rod, for a few minutes.

He started off his piece by saying, “Well, our political viewpoints differ greatly, but I think it’s honorable what you are doing.”
“Wait, it’s interesting that you have no idea what my political beliefs are, but you think you do because I’m on a Peace ride.”

Grrr. We had a 5 min. conversation and he was right, our beliefs do differ, but I can’t emphasize enough that this ride is NOT about politics. In the 60/70s there was a huge cry from the women’s movement, that “the personal is political.” I’m reversing that to say, “the political is personal.”

After the oil change I went back downtown, enjoyed a Rogue beer at the brewery and caught up on some email. THANK YOU to everyone supporting the raffles. I’ve been hearing from those starting to get their prizes and I”M SO STOKED by your happiness! As I was checking email, Logan walked by and asked to use my computer to check his email. I said No at first, I had little battery power and then I changed my mind and said go for it.

He sat and we talked for a bit and I must have freaked him out because he left without taking the postcard. I said, “Hey, that was a gift.”
“Well, I feel like you are trying to teach me something.”
What was this? The origin of my disappointment went back to my time there in Eugene as a kid. Here was a guy that obviously understands community, rejects consumerism, appreciates living simply and purposefully-but he was angry. Angry that other people don’t get it and judgemental because he does. In a sense, that is being entrenched by the same system that you reject. If, as Ghandi says, “The end is inherent in the means,” then anger doesn’t generate love. If you want people to love themselves and others more, then you can’t hate them because they don’t.

If you think someone is too material, yelling at them about it doesn’t really open their mind, nor teach them about the alternatives. I listened to him judge people who walked by and even my server, Danny, who was a genuinely nice guy. I asked Logan when the last time someone yelling at him made him change his ways. He said never.

He wished me “Good Luck in Eugene,” but in a way that felt passively aggressive. I was lucky however, my host was truly a delight. After eating yet another salad in a field, in the long light of a Solstice day, I headed to Jill’s house. She wasn’t home yet and I took turns reading and catnapping on her couch. I was a little nervous about meeting her, but only because she seemed a little nervous. Like she was asking herself, “what did I agree to?”

Visiting with Jill added at least another 5 years to my life, in just 3 hours. I began asking her about her lifestyle, after noticing bottles of herbs, grains and juice and trays of sprouting seeds. She is a dedicated raw foodist. Nothing she eats has been heated over temperatures of 80-120 degrees. Perhaps it seems difficult to maintain a lifestyle like that, but I’m under the impression that once you begin to experience the health benefits, you are motivated by the way you feel. Like any new behavior, there is transitioning.

But live juice! And vegetables! And sprouts! And fermented cabbage! It was all so tasty! Jill made me lots of samples! I was so excited that she was excited to share information. And she wasn’t critical of me at all- my smoking occasionally and avidly drinking coffee! After I told her how complicated it was to sprout while on the road, which I tried last year, she gave me a sprout bag! A burlap bag that makes it easy to grow sprouts. Now I have a traveling salad bar! Sprouts are like power pellets for Pac-Man. They have tons of anti-oxidants that prevent DNA destruction; they protect against cancers, disease and bone breakdown! They could almost be considered a fountain of life! YUM!

We stayed up until 1 am talking about healthy lifestyles and the problems in the world. And how they just might be related. It was so nice to leave politics out of the conversation; instead talking about actions, like eating and shopping.

We celebrated that health, within just the past 10 years, has been recognized as something you have to pro-actively, daily, cultivate. Before, you just got sick and then got healthy. Now, people are realizing that food=health! The best part of Eugene was my time with Jill. I left the next morning after packing my stuff, including info. she printed out for me on all kinds of stuff, like how to make your cell phone safer. I can’t wait to get home and start eating with more focus on raw foods!

In the late afternoon, after a complicated, but beautiful drive, I arrived at my friends, Mary and Erika. A young, spastic deer ran in front of me. I stopped to photograph it and it came closer. There were many unmarked roads making the drive confusing and even some closed ones! I will be here until Thursday. I have a foozball game and defeat planned at one of my sponsors, Corazzo. I must defeat Chad because back in April, he sold the last pair of Carbone riding gloves,which meant I didn’t get any! If you are local, shoot me an email-let’s explore! The submit button is now working again on the contact form. OOPSIE! Use it NOW!

Well, I made it through California much faster this time than last year. I visited fewer friends this year, partly due to the split second decision to cut inland. But I’ve surely met some great folks the past couple of days on my jaunt to Eugene.

A lot of people have shown their support and struck up conversation with me. Twice today, the opener went something to the tune that, “Hey, you missed out by a couple of generations.”

And then I (always) respond, “No, Peace isn’t just for the 60’s, it’s something every individual needs to practice, despite their age, political or religious beliefs. Peace needs to be upgraded. It’s pointless if everyone thinks it only happened in the 60’s”

I met two men today whose lives contrasted one another. One fought in Vietnam and the other protested Vietnam. They both said that the worst thing the “hippies” could have done was associate Peace with anti-war and to carry out their message in anger.

Dave expressed what it was like to fight for the country and have things thrown at him as he arrived back home. I said it sucks that the hippies did that because now to say you don’t believe in the war is to say you don’t support the troops. In conservative opinion that is.

We then together came to the realization that propaganda fuels that divisive message. The media fueled, conservative message is busy pointing fingers at people who don’t want the war, saying they aren’t patriotic, that we overlook how the government itself fails to offer soldiers the best support they deserve. And that’s coming from a Vet.
I could sense that Oregon was close, drivers became friendlier, aside from logging trucks. Everyone has been really friendly and one guy I talked to stuffed $20 in my riding glove when I was inside the restroom.

The lack of distance traveled is shocking to me. I’m making horrible time, but at least my cold is gone now. My front shocks are gone, rocked out. I had to remove my sleeping bag, groundcover and towel off the front rack. Usually they are fine, but with the shocks like this, there can’t be any weight. Handling was so bad going around the mountains that I panicked a couple of times.

It’s best to take it slow up to Seattle, where I have shocks waiting. The gear is now riding behind me-giving me little leg room but more stability. I probably could have covered the remaining 100 miles to Eugene by dark, but it would have been close. Dusk brings out the deer. Apparently it brings out lots of things to watch for, as Dave warned me. Visibility also decreases earlier in the tall forests. My decision was clinched after another guy said, “Ya, they like to run motorcyclists off the mountains for fun around here.”

I arrive Eugene Saturday afternoon, if anyone reading this wants to show me your hometown, please contact me.

click on photos to go to my flickr account.
I woke up twice today. The second time was at 7:45pm, the first at 11am. Last night’s slumber was an 11 hours session; miraculous and needed. I went to the front desk and asked for a late check out. The head honcho was hesitant but the other lady, Jennifer, said, “You should see how much stuff she has to put on that scooter.”

I’ve run across a phenomenon where nowadays most motel chains are managed by Indian families. As a result of their homeland cultures reliance and familiarity with scooters, they are often very warm and kind to me. Many times they come outside and peek at my Buddy and ask a lot of questions.

I woke up still feeling horrible, glands still swollen, throat sore. I packed up, the heat was nice, making me sweat out the virus. Like I said last night, road conditiions improved about 25 miles before Chico. The roads remained the same and the scenery too changed for the best-leaving behind rather boring rice lands and industrial landscape.

Chico is a gateway to some rather substantial mountains. The peak elevation was 5,300 today, quite a hike after remaining below sea level for quite some time. My carb is jet right now for 2,200 elevation, after adding the Prima performance pipe. The scoot is having a hard time “shifting” on inclines and down hills, of which there were many today and more to come. I’m hoping to pull off this trip up to Seattle. Feeling a bit like an ass for not knowing more about my scooter and being reliant on mechanics to help. Yet, I am learning a lot through this ride.

The “freeway” switched from divided four lane to regular two way. There were many logging trucks and rude, speedy drivers.

You know, California, as cool and progressive as you’re made out to be-you have horrible road manners. I’ve seen a lot of violations of the “point two fingers,” philosophy that I employ. And while I might wave at you while you flick me off, just know that in my head there are two fingers pointing at you. I just won’t specify which ones.

I could be criticized of the same driving pre 1998, when I sold off my car, but I never tailgated a motorcycle or scooter. Maybe for selfish reasons-I mean who wants a human hood ornament?

Traffic vanished once I turned onto 36E and I relaxed because I didn’t have to frantically check the mirrors. The view that welcomed me was incredible.

It’s neat to see the inland landscape here in California. The roads were full of switchbacks, some 10mph curves. I swooped around them and then suddenly came to a halt at a gravel road. I thought it worth a noble try so I accelerated to gain momentum for the hill. I started sliding out halfway and carefully turned around and coasted downhill. I stood there calmly looking into the babbling creek, this is not the first time Google maps has led me to a gravel road.

I could hear a large vehicle coming from about half a mile away. And then a Fed-Ex guy barrels down the dirt/gravel road, blowing dust everywhere, and he hesitantly stops. He makes a hand signal that looks like “gun?” I’m thinking, would I tell you, “yes?” He barely cracks his window and I explain that I’m riding that thing 22,000 miles and have just been led to an impasse. I explain I’m on a Peace ride so he’ll roll the window all the way down. He does, finally. I grab my directions, after saying, “I know you guys try to get places on time, but do you have one second to look?”

He gives me the scoop and says be careful, lots of tiny roads, tight curves and big logging trucks. After cruising up some sharp twisties on Wilson Road, I hit the most direct stretch of good road, gorgeous scenery and perfect conditions since probably somewhere in East Arizona. I was on the Lassen Peak Hwy, which is rich with life and color from the volcanic soil. Years ago the mountain blew. Before NASA sent the rover to the Moon, they had to test it on Earth, and so it was done here, in Lassen Park-the closest terrain to the Moon.

I stopped to get gas and realized there was no way I could go another 131 miles. My fever was still strong and I just wanted to lay on the sidewalk beside the scooter. Which I did for 5 minutes. I then called my couchsurfing host and explained the situation. She promised that if I could just get there they would heal me. This sounded tempting and needed. However, at least 3.5 more hours was in front of me, riding through forests and over mountain passes in the dark.

So here I am in Burney Falls, a grand total of 131 miles traveled today. In fact Burney was my destination last night. I would give myself a hard time but the truth is I’m sick and delirious. I’m very bummed that I’ve paid for lodging the past two nights, but at least I have free hosting in Eugene, Portland and hopefully Seattle. And besides, you try driving a scooter 300+miles with a fever.

I talked to the hotel clerks for half an hour and then collapsed on the bed. I’ve had a lot of great conversations today. Two themes have been the military and peace. I constantly make the disclaimer to most people, that, P.E.A.C.E SCOOTER in not anti-war, it is pro-peace. This statement actually lets down a lot of guards.

Except for those who are militantly anti-war. But, hey, those are the same ones who never respond to my emails about promoting the peace ride. Guess I’m not angry enough…

On my way out of the motel, Jennifer asked about my next stop and where I came from. I told her all about the ride and we talked about the Dep’t of Peace. Which she agreed sounds like a great idea. It turns out that she had served in the military and she said that her experience there helped her grow.

She said, “I grew up in a town of 400 people. Before I joined the military, I had never seen a black person. I got to travel the world and so did my kids.”

Well, I don’t think that’s enough of a reason to keep sinking trillions of dollars into Defense, but that’s not the point.
She understands Peace and does agree that the word itself means more than the absence of war.

She did mention that we must have a military to exercise our freedoms and I mentioned that we might need protection but look at Canada.
She says, “yes, many nations have a military.”
And I say,”Right, and they don’t go starting wars.”

Imagine if our military was paid to keep Peace. Think that’s weird? During Roosevelt’s term he engineered something brilliant. The CCC, which was more of a work relief program during the Depression Era. The CCC took care of domestic things until war disbanded the Corp.

Basically, the military here is an industry. People have always profited from it, and some good things have come from it. For one, women finally getting work in WW2 and then emerging into the workforce. But in present times, not only is this war costing taxpayers trillions of dollars, we are paying even more at the pump than ever before and it is clearly documented that big business is in bed with our administration.

Jennifer agreed that the reasons for this war are less than savory. In fact, 80% of the people I meet are of the opinion that this war serves the interest of oil companies.

In fact, after our conversation, I went to Starbucks for a coffee and picked up the New York Times. (I go to Starbucks when I’m on the road. They’re easy to find, they fill up my CamelBak for free-with filtered water, and often they give me stuff for free. Otherwise-support your local coffeeshop-the coffee and the atmosphere will be better.)

So in the headlines today is an article that negotiations are close to return four Western Oil companies to Iraq. Not just returning, but with no-bid contracts, which is very unusual.

And there, near the top of the article;

“There was suspicion among many in the Arab world and among parts of the American public that the United States had gone to war in Iraq precisely to secure the oil wealth these contracts seek to extract.”

Hmm, what are the odds? I don’t know? Small oil rich country, resistant to Americans, with some Islamic extremists??? Sounds ripe for the picking.

“The Bush administration has said that the war was necessary to combat terrorism. “

This article complemented the one I read last night, which I ripped out of the paper, but in order to avoid ripping it off, I urge you to read it. It’s one of the best articles I’ve read in a long time.
http://www.newsreview.com/chico/Content?oid=677833

It explores the idea of the word, ENEMY, and how our current Administration has capitalized on its use. It mentions that Enemy has classically applied to someone we are at war with, but now you can find this word being applied to nations who don’t agree with us, or who sell arms to another country.

“In other words, a country can supply weapons to your enemy without becoming your enemy. Which, considering that the U.S. is the world’s largest arms merchant, is a good thing. The last thing we need is more enemies! (Not that we have any now.)

Within this propaganda, an idea is shaped concerning our Patriotism.

Which affects me greatly, like when I travel through states that are conservative, or areas that send a lot of their kids off to fight. I worry about my safety in some places, as my riding jacket is decorated with Peace signs.

And if the public mentality has been recently shaped by the “for us or against us” crap then I must not support the troops. Which is a lie and also a terrible social mentality. Tonight I spoke with the hotel clerk, who protested in the 60’s.

He said, “we made a terrible mistake to be so angry and associate peace with war.”

“I know, that’s why I’m out here asking people how they define it-because Peace needs an upgrade.”

“I don’t know what motivated so many of us. But people seemed more compelled to act.”

“I think it was the draft. You interfere with people’s destiny and their pocketbooks and their voices get loud.”

I guess what I’m asking you tonight, is can how can we avoid all of this?

Can we avoid see things that are different from us as bad? Can we be motivated to improve the world before the point where our pocketbooks get hit?

I noticed today that Starbucks has something called Coffee for Soldiers. You can buy a bag and personalize it, Starbucks sends it out to Iraq. If you decide to buy one, I urge you to put www.peacescooter.com on it. SInce I’m hosting one million definitions for Peace, we sure could use some soliders’ perspectives.

Well, that’s all from me, back to sleep. I didn’t even bother to unpack.

This is a photo from when the Bay Bridge collapsed.

For those of you not in the Bay area, the Bay Bridge is one of wo/mans more successful attempts at mastery over nature.
9 long miles over nature.

Were it not for this bridge, my re route would be 88 miles around the Bay, to arrive at the same point.

Riding high above the Bay and above the East bound traffic is the West bound traffic. It’s a double decker bridge. Oh, did I mention there is a tunnel, too? There is no where to go should an unlucky bloke have an engine problem. Traffic is zipping by at fast speed and the heavy wind from the Bay is often there to greet you.

So basically, that first ride across it, for a scooterist, is no small feat of mastering our own mastery over nature . Last year I rode the Bay Bridge, and before doing so I searched scooter forums for tales of terror or triumph. I found both. Ok, fair enough. Many scooterists in the Bay Area approach it as no big deal.

Today’s crossing was worse than my first time. The weather conditions were great though; sunny, warm, no wind. See, now I know exactly what it’s like. Before, I was slaying the dragon with every rotation of the tires, today I was counting seconds and statistics. Like the first games in a World Series-it’s too early to predict the outcome based on just one victory.
Perhaps lunch right beforehand was a bad idea.

After six days off, it was quite a way to get back in the saddle. I threw a victory fist as I exited and thought to myself that the worst part of the day was done, early. Not so.

Pushing East past Oakland, I entered into beautiful canyons. The curves were fun and tight, tighter than Hwy1. The temperature went up 10 degrees and the smell of Eucalyptus trees filled my helmet. I had been warned about gravel on these roads by Laura, who knew firsthand about wiping out on them. After viewing the first pile I dropped my speed. I was cruising slowly, not worried, thinking I would make up time down the road.

Emerging from the canyons I was shuffled into heavy traffic moving around the burbs and then onto an industrial stretch. Here the roads became horrible. Oh, wait, they were just like the ones in San Francisco. Except that I needed to travel at least 55mph over them. The asphalt was uneven, there were potholes, big gaps outlined the train tracks and large cracks replaced smooth roadway-all pretty hazardous. I won’t travel this road again and I don’t recommend it for anyone on a 125cc scooter with my amount of gear.

The google route steered me onto the Freeway, apparently the only way to navigate through the farmlands, aside from Interstate 5. Freeway translated into 2 lanes on the same dangerous roads, with no shoulder. People were speeding at around 80. I was doing my best to keep a steady 55 while peering ahead for bumps, cracks and potholes. When I could safely pull over on the occasional dirt driveways, I did. Traffic was piled up behind me and people flicked me off and honked hysterically. I missed Shaun. Together, two scooterists command a tad bit of respect. Alone, we can be targets.

And then the bridge near Antioch-which was actually neat, but SO HIGH up that the wind gave me white knuckles. Phew, this had to be the worst of it. Then, two steel grate bridges-longer than any I yet traveled.

But it was hot. And that’s why I’m on this route, to avoid a damp, cold ride up the Coastline.

I was feeling very nervous, there were freeways still ahead for awhile. I was trying to check in with my intuition. My mind was anticipating all kinds of horrible crap and this has never happened. The brain is such a powerful weapon-and mine was running amuck. The lady who found my wallet, Constance, had given me a Gremlin Bell-for protection. The bell had fallen off the bike as soon as I crossed the Bay Bridge. My good friend Jess, of 20 years, texted me out of the blue, saying she was thinking about me. I shifted my thoughts into a positive direction.

Then I realized, stopping for my fourth liter of water- I’m just sick. My glands are so swollen I can barely swallow and I’m lightheaded. I realized the bike is probably handling so horribly because my suspension is off. After 17,000 miles, it’s probably time to have a look at that.  The bike has been harder to control lately and my feet seem closer to the ground now-and I haven’t switched shoes or grown.

To end on a better note-San Francisco was a great visit. The owner at the Hotel Maribelle basically gave me my money back today by donating $200 to the “scooter tour.” I said my goodbyes at the San Francisco Scooter Center. I went by this morning after saying my goodbye to Shaun. I needed a group photo of the lovely SFSC crew. Wonderful, smart, entertaining people over there. If you ever stop by, ask Barry if you can have the tour of his museum upstairs. After seeing so many Lambrettas this past week, I’ve developed a bit of a need for one.

I had a quick lunch at Whole Foods, who donated a $20 gift card. On the way in to the store, I noticed this grafitti. It reminded me of the conversation Barry and I had 10 minutes earlier.

The roads stayed the same until about 25 miles before Chico, where I am hanging my hat tonight. The goal was 311 miles, but with all the treacherous going, I fell short by 100 miles. For now, it’s sleep and Vitamin C for me. And some more of Peter Beagle’s book.

this is the route ahead

My tempo feels a bit off today. I’m leaving early in the morning, bound for Oregon. I’ve been here in San Fran for six days and it’s time to go. The land legs are back and there has been time to rejuvenate. Recognizing that I’ve reached the halfway point is making me a bit introspective. Breaking the tempo is good and bad.

Living out of two saddlebags sometimes creates a sense of claustrophobia. Six days at the Hotel Mirabelle has offered the perfect reprieve for a halfway point. My stuff is now hanging up in a closet in a very normal fashion. My shrine is lit. My toiletries are spread about and even the bedspread is carelessly frumpled. I have, in a sense, a room of my own, a recollection of home. Finally, after 10 days, ahhhh, a laundromat. Daphne gave me a hard time that my clothes reeked of campfire. I don’t think anyone else noticed over the 2 stroke smoke at the scooter rally….

I’ve even just simply sat in here and fallen asleep while reading. On Friday we went to City Lights, the notorious Beat Poet bookstore. It’s a San Fran landmark. They had every single book on my list that Barnes and Nobles never has. So I splurged and bought I see By My Own Outfit, by Peter Beagle. So far it’s a well written, inspiring account of two men traveling cross country by scooter, in the 60’s. When I’m not scootering, I want to read about it.

Once I gear up the scoot and start riding my reality will be normal again. Earlier in the trip I was able to volunteer more. Then my focus became surviving the South West.

Next, it became coordinating the ride for two people. Shaun commented the other day that I never stop “doing.” I was becoming overwhelmed by the amount of logistics that must always be done, yet impressed at how much I can do when I put my mind to it.

Maps, lodging, blogging, driving, eating, friends to see, strangers to meet, volunteer orgs, Peace orgs, raffle tallies, email responses, promoting, video.

I don’t have a lot of gusto for all the planning, it’s just something I do. Sometimes the strapping and shoving and balancing gear feels like a waste of time-as though all day is just spent preparing for the Peace ride. I want to talk about Peace. I want to volunteer. I want to fundraise.

If you can help me with these things-please send me an email. Can you coordinate a group ride for Peace if I’m visiting your town? Do you know where I can stay? Do you have a radio show contact? Can you send out an email letting your friends know about the website?

Can you help raise funds? I am a bit shy of reaching the 50% mark.

The odometer hit 17,000 miles the other day. It humors me to say- “Oh, only 5,000 miles left,”-a proper cross country trip in itself. There is still much to look forward to, especially the North Midwest and parts east of Chicago, like Kent State-places I’ve never really explored.

Those who have contributed to this ride are a continual inspiration to me. I miss the many folks I’ve met while arriving at this point. I’ve received a few kind emails letting me know I have family in those parts shall I ever return.

Not only will this be the largest Peace sign created in history, it will be the best, because of the people who helped create it with me.

It’s time to start wrestling with the gear and say goodbye to the charming Hotel Mirabelle.

The latest collection to my riding gear comes from Dainese. Barry convinced a raffle winner at the rally to give me the prize-a pair of cargo pants with knee/shin armor that slips in easily. They are fancy pants and I adore them. All of my possessions right now are mostly functional things.

Today I went by the Dainese shop and spoke with Shelley for a couple of hours. This lady has really put some road miles behind her. She offered a lower back support brace. Oh, on Sunday I won my first rally award, for longest distance scooted-although I would have impeached someone had I not won. But it was a thrill and one of my cool prizes was a new orange safety vest. THIS PHOTO was taken with just a camera flash, all the lights were off.

The road promises an early salutation, so I bid you goodnight.

Covers our test drive up a massive hill and then rally footage from Saturday and Sunday.

San Fran-Scootin from Alix Bryan on Vimeo.

I’m so happy that I mostly get to write positive blogs!

I sat in Cafe Trieste with Shaun for hours today. We left at 9pm. I had used my wallet at 8:45 pm.  At 11:00 pm a call came through; didn’t answer, didn’t recognize the number. Checking my voicemail I discover I’ve lost my wallet. But it’s been found, with ALL THE MONEY IN IT.  My hand frantically smoothed over my back pocket in confirmation, yes, I’m the Alix Bryan missing the wallet. This hand check also confirmed my back pocket is way to shallow. (then again, so is my wallet!)

My wallet sat on the corner of Haight and Market Streets, for one hour-untouched.  Constance-thank you for finding it, thank you for spending an hour hunting me down, and thanks mucho for reuniting me with the little cash I have to get me up to Seattle!

Everyday of my life confirms that the world at large is just not the one reflected on our TV screens; people are good, people want to help and they are pretty damn fun too. Whenever I actually sit still long enough to watch TV, I get this overwhelming suffocating feeling of negativity. I say get out there and live life-open yourself to the wonderment that occurs!

And Constance-yep, she is a scooterist!

I believe in community. There is a proverb that goes something like, “One generation plants the trees; another gets the shade.”

Or, as Sandra Day O’Connor once said, “We don’t accomplish anything in this world alone … and whatever happens is the result of the whole tapestry of one’s life and all the weavings of individual threads from one to another that creates something.”

I know that P.E.A.C.E SCOOTER would be neither successful or fun without YOU-you all. And this is why I decided the ride should raise funds with a focus on others. In the breakdown I decided that 10% of the money would be split between two organizations that directly reflect community. Community unselfishly utilizing resources to improve a situation that hurts the community at large. Like breast cancer.

There were already two recipients chosen:
The Peace Alliance
Last Mile Ride, sponsoring Crystal Waters

Now I would like to introduce to you another group of scooterists riding cross country for a cause:
Scootin’ for a Cure explains their intention and you can click HERE to enjoy the blog. Of course you can donate directly to them, but I will also be contributing a portion of raffle money/donations/tshirt sales to this cause.

So far, we have raised $253 to be donated towards the ride to raise awareness and funds to fight breast cancer! Rock On!  You can donate by purchasing a raffle ticket or tshirt, or by making a flat donation, HERE.
I am still searching for the environmental group to support. You get it right? A Patriot’s Exhibition Advancing Community and Environmentalism=P.E.A.C.E

Thank you to those riding for this cause! Ride ON!

Alright folks, I’m gearing up to offer you some fantastic updates. I’ve taken a four day vacation to attend the Scooter Rage 22 Rally, where they passed out Red Ryder BB Guns to some lucky winners. (Don’t shoot your eye out Ralphie)

And to visit with Daphne, who flew out on Thursday. I have a bunch of great footage from riding around San Fran that I’m editing. This time I had a camerawoman, for all those who write with concerns that I’m filming while driving…..

Today she flew home and I actually slept a bunch. Between me, her and Shaun-we split a hotel. It was miraculously just $240 a week. And it’s not a brothel. Hotel Mirabelle is a secret treasure that Barry Gwyn let me in on. Reminiscent of a European hotel, we share bathrooms and showers with everyone else on the floor. So what! It’s central, clean and quirky.

My original plan was to stay with San Francisco Scooter Girl Lauren Harp. These ladies are impressive, fast and fabulous-visit their site and buy a calendar. I’ll be raffling off a Calendar of their’s next week. Anyhow, when my entourage grew, I made a choice not to crash her pad and overstay our welcome. Now that me and Shaun have the place until Wednesday, I’m taking care of planning the rest of the trip out.

P.E.A.C.E SCOOTER is at the halfway point and I’m humbled by the generosity, enthusiasm and community I’ve experienced so far. I’m missing people from states all around the country and looking forward to meeting more.

I’m enjoying getting my land legs back, aside from some incredible city rides! I couldn’t believe me and Daphne were taking 18% grade hills-downhill and uphill. The weather has been chilly-even the natives say it’s a bit colder than normal. Today I decided not to take the coastline up to Eugene.

No matter how much bread and pasta I eat, I can’t get enough skin on my bones to stay warm. Daphne brought out my heavier Corazzo jacket-now the third jacket I’ve worn on this trip due to temp. changes. The coastline temps are forecasting highs of 60 degrees. Throw in the damp mist for 8 hours of riding and I predict it will feel like 48-50 degrees. Brrrr…. I miss the SouthWest heat.

I’ve seriously contemplated this all day and am now choosing an inland route. My regrets to some fine people I won’t be able to meet, like Kelton, who has supported P.E.A.C.E since June last year! And the Slug Rockets, a scoot group in Arcata. However, I do still need a place to stay in Eugene if you know of anyone….

Now that the decision is made, I’m moving on to some video for ya! Here is a wicked weird one of me and Daphne walking to the Pacific for her first time.

When I was in Austin, Scott and Liz came up to meet me. Scott said he likes to meet people who are following their dreams. He made a dream come true for me-by mowing his lawn into a Peace sign. See how great it looks! Your lawn could look like that-if you want-I’ll even mow it for you! Imagine  starting an awesome trend in your neighborhood!

We arrived San Fran at 8pm. And by 9pm Shaun had his first fall. Holy Crow! The sound of your fellow scooterist companion hitting the ground is not cool. Actually, it was the scooter hitting the ground that I heard through my full face helmet. We came up on a stoplight with a patch of uneven, rough asphalt and he had the misfortune of braking while going over it. Despite adrenalin pumping through me all day, I found another reserve of it as I turned to see Shaun lying in the road and traffic coming.

Several cars stopped to see what assistance we needed, but Shaun was already up and apparently ok. It’s important to lay there and do a pain check before jumping up-which he said he did. Sadly, his Buddy took some cosmetic hits-but better the scoot than him. The headset is all damaged but the headlight works just fine. The right mirror stem broke off. The Givi has some battlescars too, but his Listerine remained intact!

I can’t believe he survived the gravel that almost potentially catapalted us over a cliff into the ocean, only to crash as soon as he reached his first goal. The second is getting back home, alone, to Tucson. Hopefully, y’all scooterists can jump in and offer lodging on the mans way back to Tucson, if he is on your path. Quite a feat arriving San Fran for this newbie- he just hit 2,000 miles today!

I’m still looking for a Gatorade pitcher to toss over him, which might just happen at the Scooter Rage 22 Rally that kicks off tomorrow! Finally, my schedule coincides with a rally! And on top of it-Daphne flies in tomorrow as well!

After packing up the campsite today, we rushed along the coast, taking very few pictures.

We did, however, meet Curtis on Hwy 1. You can’t help but notice his bright yellow Peace machine. It’s not getting quite the mileage as mine, but his mission is going the distance. The distance being New Orleans, multiple times, to deliver donated goods.

We face a moral crisis as a country as as people.
I just want to help Our Country, by following what’s in my heart.
I am about people helping people here in the United States.

I don’t know much about his org, but check out the website. http://www.followyourheartactionnetwork.com/Volunteer.htmHis lady friend offered us some water and chocolate and then we were off. Stay tuned for the insightful definition of Peace that Curtis offered. I don’t know anything about his operation-but he was very kind and drives a spectacular yellow truck.

The day has been long, the past 10 days long. I’ve gotten used to seeing Shaun in my rearview mirrors, it will be strange to adjust to his absence. I’m grateful to have shared part of his life experience and glad I could be there as he learned more about riding and about Peace in our country.

I’m here in San Fran until Monday or Tuesday. Come out to the rally and say Hi-it’s gonna be a good ol ruckus by the Bay!

Day8 Shaun
Day 38 Alix

Distance traveled 201 miles

We geared up heavy today for the ride, it was freezing. We waited until noon for the big fog cloud to burn away. Apparently, the sun wasn’t hot enough to do so. And apparently, there is a name for this phenomenon-June Gloom.

June Gloom chills to the bone. I navigated us through Santa Barbara, and when we reached the edge of town we stopped to look at traffic on Highway 101. A lady at the gas station said it was the worst time to be on there. We confirmed that it was way to busy to be a pleasant ride. We jumped on San Marcos Pass and the temperature went up about 15 degrees.

The Gloom disappears inland. We crossed some gorgeous mountains, with a bad crosswind and heavy traffic, but not hardcore at all. Our road ran into Highway 101 and we shed a layer before jumping on it. Traffic was steady, but we held our own. The wind had ceased and didn’t restrain us. In fact, both of our scooters performed better than ever before. I was hitting 73 easy. The hills were perfect to slingshot ourselves on the incline. 62 miles later we arrived San Luis Obispo.

Looking at my clock, I saw that we made it in real time, automobile time. We were both joking that 55mph just wouldn’t be the same again. Seriously, I’m doing this on the 125cc to prove a point, that we use big machines when they often aren’t needed. If I can ride this scoot 22,000 miles, you can ride one 20 miles to work, etc. But if I ever do a long trip like this again, ha ha ha, it’s got to be on a 250cc. That blissful moment today, without wind and in the perfect air temperature, rocking hills-getting the full top speed from my scoot-well I want that without hoping.

We picked up the coastal highway and let it rip. I let Shaun take the lead and was impressed how he handled the curves. I think he’s learned a thing or two about riding. I have some of the most gorgeous scenery to upload later. We were stopped by a roadblock outside of San Luis Obispo because a helicopter was filming a scene from a movie.

We are camping tonight in Big Sur and there is no internet. We stopped in this cafe for food and to watch the 4th quarter of the Laker/Celtics game. Although it is beautiful in this area, the locals capitalize on it. I just paid $6 a gallon for gas. Usually I say point two fingers, but this time-I’m pointing, er, one.

And to celebrate that we are uninjured. Highway 1 has numerous curves, runs along the ocean and the road usually meets air-plummets 500 ft or more without guardrail. We were on the mountain side though, with the ocean on the opposite side. There were several Land Slide area warning signs that usually indicated rocks lying like dice thrown.

However, one particular curve was hosting an 8 ft stretch of gravel, about 1 ft deep. The sun in our eyes, we had no time to see it. And it was masquerading as asphalt anyhow, black gravel. I was so pissed and am actually looking for someone to tell about this. They are going to be picking up bones off the highway from that patch. It is miraculous that we both knew not to hit the brakes-and actually fought the impulse. The weight of my bags pushes the scoot around and I just held on while the bike moved back and forth on the patch. All I thought about was which leg might break. Fortunately, all is well and we get an adrenalin rush when we talk about it. 17,000 miles and I’ve never seen an ambush like that!

We are off to stoke the fire and set up tents. Peace! Those of you reading in San Fran-see you soon!

Highway 1 from Alix Bryan on Vimeo.

*clicking on the pictures takes you to my photo account, where they get bigger!*

Tonight finds me in Carpinteria, CA; a little town currently enshrouded by ocean mist. It’s about 274 miles from San Diego. Tonight we are lodged in a Motel 6; definitely enjoying splitting motel costs with Sean. Since last Wednesday we’ve had wonderful hosts each night-and each day has been incredibly action packed.

On Thursday afternoon we rode from National City to the burbs of San Diego. Our visit in National City was rather uneventful. We passed by the Naval Base and stopped to look at the aircraft carrier that dropped bombs in Vietnam. It started raining and we nixed camping. After grabbing a way overpriced hotel room, although probably cheaper than San Diego, we both did some work. Sure, we could have gone off to Tijuana, it was only 4 miles away, but instead we behaved. I was a bit giddy that the Southern part of the Peace sign was completed.

That was a grueling 2,112 mile ride. I really wouldn’t recommend it to anyone. My relief that it was over translated into my first 8 hours slumber in quite awhile. Tensions along the border are very high right now. It was unlikely that something might happen to me but drug smugglers are literally engaged in blood bath duels with the police. Just the other day, a smuggler was wounded in a shoot out and taken to a hospital. His gang stormed the hospital and shot civilians, doctors and nurses, anyone in the way just to get to him and kill him. Innocent bystanders are irrelevant in these wars. If anyplace needs to be included in the Peace sign, it is our border with Mexico.

Thursday:
We packed up and headed over to our hosts in San Diego, Jan and John. They are the regional area coordinators of the Americans for the Department of Peace. He contacted me on March 25 with an invitation for lodging, saying that, “You have many like-minded peace fans in AFDOP.”

Like minded? My god, yes. I’m humbled by the generosity and welcoming that Shaun and I received. We glimpsed a PEACE sign hanging above the entrance and then John opened the door and greeted us warmly. It felt great from the first second. I had told informed Shaun about the Dep’t of Peace the night before. Like many people, he had never heard of it, but seemed very interested. The dynamic between the four of us was great.

John and Shaun were able to geek out on programming chat. We spent three very incredible nights with them. They had a hot tub for the sore muscles and enough food to feed a tribe. Every single need we had was met without hesitation. They were brilliant, charming, and fun. I had no idea what to expect but was blown away by how fantastic they were.

Shaun went exploring while I worked at a coffee shop. We met up later at the Vespa shop in Hillcrest and talked to Jason for awhile. I spoke with the marketing director at Whole Foods about donating a gift card for food-with no luck, sadly.

Then we explored San Diego by taking the trolley around the city, hopping on and off at spots. Shaun wanted to experience some nightlife and so we wound up walking around the 5th street club area. A bouncer, with fangs, at House of Blues, pointed us in the right direction for some local music. We had a long chat with the door lady, who recommended fragmob.com. It’s a cool website where you send in photos from your cellphone and they are updated almost real time. She suggested posting my photos there as a way to reach out to more people.

We walked into the club downstairs, just as the band was playing “Sesame Street.” After an hour we headed back to the metro; talking and people watching.

Friday:
In the afternoon we set out to Motorsports, the local Genuine dealership. I picked up my care package that Daphne mailed and we hung out for about 3 hours. Like every scooter shop across America, they were bustling and had few scoots left. Alex Kohn is a really smart, fun guy. We spent some time talking and he asked if I wanted some money. He came back with a $200 donation. Then he gave us tshirts-some of the best quality I’ve seen yet.

Shaun and I fielded questions about our scoots and the Buddy in general from prospective customers. We met Kristal, who has 46,000 miles on his Piaggio MP3, in just one year, just riding around town! Jan and John had arranged a dinner party, so time with the Motorsports guys was cut short. San Diego is a great town to ride around. There are many hills, Eucalyptus trees, flowers, and amazing panoramas. It is a big sprawling city, but the scenery makes the rides go by quickly. Except on Friday afternoons-good old California gridlock traffic had us running in the door for the dinner party; three guests had already arrived.

In the remaining daylight everyone congregated around our scooters. Shaun let a couple of people test drive his, everyone else signed the P.E.A.C.E. SCOOT and asked a bunch of questions. There was a lot of laughter; we felt comfortable right away with the 16 strangers that showed up to welcome us. Inside the table was stocked with wine and food. With just 24 hour notice, quite a crowd showed. Jan recommended us all gathering in a circle to introduce ourselves and say how we were affiliated with Peace. Then she asked that Shaun and I answer questions about the ride. I hope there are more events ahead like this!

One message echoed throughout the circle was that amid the real challenges of life, they were all working to emanate Peace in their own personal way. No one there thought they had the answer, but they were emphasizing the importance of being deliberate and considering how you can constantly seek and choose peace, if just within in your own life. Every person there was very authentic and open. It was an incredibly real experience and I’m thankful the party happened. They were really curious about the ride and amazed by all the nuances. They taught me a lot and it was inspiring for me to meet so many people working for Peace. Shaun handled it all very smoothly. He seemed captivated by the situation.

He ran off for a little while to hang out with the neighbors and I talked to Jan and John. We counted up the donation basket money-all in all $469 was raised in San Diego-that’s $281 for nonprofits!

Saturday:
Despite a very late night, I was up early to meet Peter, the beachblogger. As I posted, we went out posting Peace signs and he shared his perspective with me in a video I have yet to release. We share many views and it was a great 3 hours with a unique artist, peace maker.

I rushed back to the house and we went out to mow my first lawn into a Peace sign. There is still video from that which will be posted soon. Amy was great to let me mow her lawn and I hope many other follow! It was an grand house overlooking the ocean. The local news contacted me but we were never able to coordinate a date.

We spent the evening with Jan and John, who treated us to dinner. Shaun and I were determined to make our 4pm arrival in LA, so we packed the bags up and placed the scoots in the garage.

Sunday:
We still didn’t arrive on time. The distance was shorter than most rides, but the time was the same. Traffic lights killed our time. Welcome to LA and surrounding counties. The first part of the ride was stunning and we ran into 50 scooterists out on a ride to raise money for Breast Cancer Research.

Mike and Jen were very cool about us showing up an hour late. They bought us tickets for the Dodgers game. Sadly, the only time they scored was during first inning. We laughed and hooted, ate stadium food. Three bats were broken during the game, Vince Vaughn was there and laughably, the Cubs have a player named, Fukudome. Shaun’s friends picked him up after the game and I went home with Mike and Jen. They have the best bungalow in Pasadena, chock full of collectables. It was an early night. Last year they lodged me as well. Their bed has to go down as one of the best.
Monday:
7 hours later I was up, drinking coffee with Mike. We headed to the shop and even though it was closed, we spent the day talking to customers. Just turning on the lights brings them in!

Eric from Modern Buddy came out and we expertly fielded customer questions. The three of us had lunch. Mike is always good to me-he supports me because of the long ride I’m doing-but our personal beliefs are very different. In 2002, he actually rode a scooter up to Alaska from LA. A vintage scooter nonetheless, and in 19 days. Him and Jen always seem to be hosting scooterists-many thanks. Eric gave me some great scooter pins that I had to share with Shaun.

NBC came by and filmed a piece on alternative transportation and fuel costs. It’s a horrible piece, but you can find it here: http://video.knbc.com/player/?id=261323

Feel free to leave a comment on their website that they should cover more of the Peace ride story!

At 4 pm we were on the road, just trying to carve out some of the ride up to San Francisco. Daphne flies in to join the P.E.A.C.E ride on Thursday, which also coincides with a scooter rally.

I’ll go back and add some photos to this one, but time is short and it’s late-I just wanted to get something up since it’s been awhile!
There are new photos in the flickr account.
Here is a video of today’s landscape: