Flannel, jeans, vans, and a helmet- the essentials of my ride today. I arrived at Son’s house around 12:30PM and we awaited Young and Yee’s arrival. As we sat in the garage full of Son’s many (and I mean MANY) toys, I came to realize how many changes his bike has gone through. Seeing it as it is now with a new tank color, seat color, and most of all, the rear seat, shows me how much TLC has been applied. (A feature post about these changes are soon to come).

After Young arrived at Son’s, our plan to leave for Santa Cruz at 1pm was postponed when an unexpected pothole appeared: Yee’s bike was down. Luckily he was still in the area, so the three of us headed over to Silver Creek High School to rescue a bike in need.

As the three tried to figure out what was wrong with the bike, a few of the neighbors noticed our situation and offered tools and whatever else they could do. As Son rode home to switch his bike for his truck to tow Yee’s bike, Young and Yee began talking to one of the neighbors who complimented their bikes. He emphasized how unique their bikes were and enjoyed the way they made it their own.

Son arrived back shortly and they loaded the bike up to the “Truck of Shame” to bring home to Yee’s. By this time, it was about 2PM when Young, Son and I began to make our way out of San Jose. One warning I received before we headed off- “280 has a lot of bumps. So watch out.” Great. The sun was out and the heat was rigorous. But at the speed we were going on the freeway, the heat was the least of my worries.

My trips on the freeway up until today were nothing compared to what I was about to experience. Seeing the cars near me flash by my sight could not emphasize how fast it felt like we were going. As the tears fell and dried quickly due to the strong gusts of wind, I could tell that this would be an interesting trip. We made it through freeways 101, 280, 17, and 85 and then the craziness of bumps and potholes died down. We then cruised through the quiet town of Downtown Saratoga catching the attention of pedestrians with these loud “jap craps”.

As we rode through highway 9, the sharp turns and potholes due to road work were my biggest worries. Although I tried to keep my eyes open for possible bumps, the view from our high altitude was enough to compensate for anything we may hit.

We came to a halt at the small town of Boulder Creek where we filled up the gas tanks and looked for a bite to eat.  After taking a few pictures, we hopped back on the road and began our ride through highway 17.

The cool breeze of the Santa Cruz wind took the attention off of the winding roads ahead of us. But unfortunately, it didn’t help the bumps I had to stand up for. As we hit rush hour traffic, the lane splitting began. We came across one car that caught my attention the most because the look on his face when we rode past him was priceless. It showed excitement, shock, and most of all, amusement as we rode by. He tried to keep up with us, but soon got lost in the sea of cars.

While getting off of the freeway, we found ourselves at a stoplight with a “modded” Miata. When the light turned green and I heard the sound of Son’s bike roar, I knew that something interesting was about to happen. Both the car and bike made the turn onto the main road and as the Miata took off and Son was about to shift, we noticed something was missing. His red dice. Immediately he screamed “nooooooo!” and I could tell someone’s heart was breaking. But this taught him a lesson: Don’t let your ego get the best of you. Devastated, he parked his bike in his garage with a part of his heart missing.