I'm up again at the crack of dawn, so I quietly slip barefooted into the front room and take me a spot. The sunrise is spectacular as the myriad of colors etch out the trees against the horizon. I soak up a last good look before I leave this peaceful place for whatever lies ahead on the road today.

Today V.J. has to head back to work and I'm headed back to finish up highway 1. It will be my last day of relaxing riding before I hit the slab to the Holler. V.J. wants us to share breakfast at Alice's Restaurant just down the road a little bit from his house which is fine by me. From the restaurant, it will be a run down the hill on Tunitas Creek Road that T-bones into highway 1 near Half Moon Bay on the ocean. A left turn then I just follow the coast to San Luis Obispo – not hard to remember. Soon V.J. and Mo are up and stirring about getting ready for the day. Miss Mo is the first one ready to go and she tells me -

“Uncle Phil, any time you are out here you must stay with us. You don't even have to call, just come knock on the door.”

I give her a big hug and thank her for their hospitality and she's off the face the work day. Then V.J. says

“I need to feed Shirley and then we will be off.”

Shirley obviously knows the routine quite well and patiently waits for the food – well patiently for cat I reckon. After she eats a bit, she follows us back up the drive a ways. I bid her a farewell –

“Miss Shirley, you be good if you can” I tell her.

She rolls on the ground as if she is having a good laugh at that statement.

We get suited up, roll the STs out into the crisp September air and make our way quickly to Alice's. It is with some sadness that I remember the last time I was here I was with Dennis Ryan, my beloved friend who passed away during Christmas 2003. We walk in the place and they asked us if we'd like to sit out on the deck.

I look at V.J. – “That'll be fine with me if it suits you.”

He nods approval so it's out on the deck we go. Our server tells us what all is available and mentions their special omelet today – avocado, bacon, tomatoes and cheese.

“Well, that's a bit different. I don't know as I've ever had avocado in an omelet. You promise me it'll be good?” I ask.

She promises me solemnly so I go for it. I've got to say that she hasn't misled me – it's one of the best omelets I've ever had. She keeps a good eye on us for whatever we need, and soon we strike up a conversation.

“Where are you from?” she asks.

“Well, V.J. ‘s just up from around the corner, but I'm from Tennessee and headed to SLO, then back home tomorrow.”

She gives that look of amazement that anyone would ride a motorcycle this far.

“Well, I'm actually from Tennessee and still have family there” she says.

“Then just how did you get way out here?”

“That's a real long story” she says with a smile and then she speaks of relationships that have failed and those that have succeeded and how things like that can move a person across the country. It's just like I always tell my friend, Coop - everybody's got a story and sometimes if you ask them you'll get to hear it. She gives really us good service and we appreciate it. Soon we finish our meal, pay the news, and walk out to the bikes.

V.J. has been talking about taking some longer trips earlier, so I tell him –

“Why don't you go sit on my ST so you can see what that Russell seat and the highway wings feel like.”

He does and as he settles in, it's not long until a big smile appears across on his face.

“This is really nice” he says and I can see his mental wheels clicking.

But it's time to go for both of us, so I give him a big hug and tell him –

“You and Miss Mo have got to come to Tennessee so I can show you where the good roads are. ”

We both laugh, then mount up and go our separate ways. He and Miss Mo have been a real special blessing to me and again I am thankful for their many kindnesses. As I make my way down toward highway 1, my thoughts turn to the day ahead. I haven't ridden the section of highway 1 from San Francisco to where I will be getting on it. And I really wanted to get a picture of the SweetTreat at the Golden Gate Bridge like I did for the RedBird. And I've only got me to please today and a Motel 6 room waiting for me at the end. I know the morning traffic going into the city will probably be crazy, but then it sure can't be any worse that riding in London's morning traffic. By the time I get to highway 1, the right turn toward San Francisco instead of a left turn to SLO is a given. The closer I get to the city, the heavier the traffic becomes. But with a watchful eye and a quick throttle hand I just keep moving along. I just hope that my memory is correct where the park pull off is and I can get there in one piece. Soon enough I see the familiar outline of the bridge and work my way quickly to the park off ramp. Unfortunately, the park traffic pattern has changed a lot since the last time I was here and where I wanted to park is not an option. With no other choice, I just jump the SweetTreat up on the sidewalk where I think I can get a shot of her with the bridge in the background - and not get run over!

As I continue to make my way southward, I notice that I keep passing some of the same vehicles. I'll pull over for a photo op and they pass me, then I'll be moving along and end up passing them back. I play the passing game with a young couple in a mini-van several times. I catch their eyes as I overtake them once again and give them a nod of recognition and a smile and they give me thumbs up sign. Quick as a wink the lady in the passenger seat takes my picture. I wonder to myself -

"Whose album is that gonna appear in?"

Before long I see a Highway 1 sign that has the ocean as a backdrop. When I came down years ago from Oregon I looked in vain for one of the beautiful PCH signs with the ocean as a backdrop. Since I never found one, I decide I'll at least get this one.

I remember Bamarider going on and on about the Bixby Creek Bridge in the Big Sur area. So when I approach this one, I think that this may be it. But as many folks before me have found out, this is the Rocky Creek Bridge not the Bixby, which is larger and a little further to the south on Highway 1.

It's a short run to come to the real McCoy and it is impressive - especially considering it was completed in 1932. It is over 700 feet long and reaches over 260 feet in the air. Locals say it is probably the most photographed object along the coastal route and I take one to add to my collection.

As I get into SLO, Highway 1 rejoins the industrial strength Highway 101 and once again I am swept up in fast moving traffic on a 4-lane. Fortunately it's less than 4 miles and I'm at the exit for the Motel 6 that Guy has recommended. There's also Margie's Diner just up the street in close walking distance, and there's gas on the way out. Those are the three things I like to have at stop - gas, food, and sleeping quarters - so this will work just fine. As I check in, the clerk asks me where I'm from.

"Well I'm from Tennessee and reckon I'm headed back that way tomorrow. I thought I'd just take highway 58 through Bakersfield on to I40."

And once again a motel clerk gives me the totally amazed look that I have ridden a motorcycle this far and then plan to be back in Tennessee in a few short days.

"Oh no, you don't won't to take 58 - it's really crooked" he advises me.

I break out in a big grin as I tell him "Well, that'll be just fine since I'm on a motorcycle!"

"Oh, yeah - I guess that would be nice on a bike I guess" he adds. He gives me a nice room in the back that I can park the SweetTreat in front of. So I pull her around, unload what I need and put her to bed for the evening.

As I finish up my meal, I ask my server -

"Do you serve breakfast also?"

"Yes we do" he tells me.

"Thanks a bunch. I reckon I'll see you folks first thing in the morning."

I wander back to the motel laundry room to find that my clothes have long since finished washing. I toss them in a dryer, and just chill out for a while. I know from this point on it will be pretty much just grinding it out on my old friend I40, so I hope the weather decides to cooperate. Finally the clothes finish drying and I grab my stuff and head back to the room to check the weather for tomorrow. Little do I know as I pillow my head just how wrong a weather forecast can be.