The core group of this summer’s ride to Glacier National Park broke up in Redding, in north California. Jerry spun off the day before near his home in Oregon; Brad got released from the hospital after his collision with a deer, and he and Mick stayed a few days to celebrate the birthday of Brad’s dad, who was also Mick’s brother-in-law. I headed south alone for the last 600 mile leg.

Now, I love riding, but at the end of a trip the desire to get home grows, and I was ready to see my wife and our cats. Notice the order, OK?  So I pulled out about 4:30 in the darkness before dawn, and hit the garage door remote about 2:30. 10 hours and 600 miles is a good day’s ride, but even with the sport touring bike my body felt it. And, I knew the solution.