The Geezer 'n me.

The Geez and I busted out at about 0600 this morning and all I can say is: sure is different. Think I'll leave it at that -- otherwise Bear'll meet me in Tombstone with a pound of cheese. And I'd deserve it, which'd piss me off even more.

First few miles of a run, especially when you're runnin' solo, are always a bit strange. Settling in, listening to the 'scoot, gettin' a feel for things. How's it runnin'; how's the load; how's it trackin' -- that sort of thing. Kinda shakin' it all down for the miles to come. An easy run down 99, only got cut off twice -- and for 99 that's damn good. Just an easy 300 miles today, got to Tehachapi  by 1130. Yawn...

The big difference I see in runnin' on The Geez (aside from sittin' back, cruise control on, tunes blaring, sippin' on my Starbucks, fer goodness sakes) is that I don't think as much. Maybe that's a good thing -- maybe it'll kill this blog. I'll find out in the miles and days ahead, but I'm not too worried. This was more a positioning run today. Tomorrow I'll start meeting up with friends and Brothers and that's what this is really about, so I think the thoughts and ideas will flow.

The Geez.

Tehachapi's a pretty place. Sits on the hills just out of Bakersfield and just before you run down to the desert and Edwards, in that area where the Sierra kind of peter out -- only about 4,000 feet here. It's unique in its own way, not foothills but not the big rocks of further north. It has the feel of the mountains without the craggy harshness (which I love, as well) of the High Sierra. Kinda mellow place, still isolated from that awful sprawling mess to its west.

I like it, always have.

So runnin' up the hill from Bakersfield, I didn't get too upset when Bubba found it necessary,  time after time, to put 60 or 70 feet of iron in the fast lane, goin' uphill, just so he could pass another truck doin' maybe 1 MPH slower than he was. I didn't, but that BMW in front of me seemed to get -- from his hand gestures anyway -- just a might troubled. Guess that's why he was about a quarter inch off Bubba's bumper each time till he could pass. He seemed to be surprised and more out of whack each time we came upon two trucks and one just had to pull out right in front of him to get around the other. Got to figure those Beemer folks have yet  to realize those ol' boys do have radios. And they use 'em. Kinda reminds me of the old joke: What's the difference between a Beemer and a porcupine? Porcupines have the pricks on the outside.

From what I can see on the BullBoard, the eastern Brothers are still runnin' hard on 10 -- almost through Texas. They could make Tombstone by tomorrow if they push. Maybe the west coast vanguard will too, heck, I don't know -- it ain't then yet.

For now I sit here -- hittin' the keys, dumping the day onto the page. Waitin' for my Brothers to show up. Waitin' for it to turn from a ride into a run.

Oh yeah, there'll be stories tomorrow...