I got to have lunch with a fraternity brother of mine over in Tucker. I’ve missed him on prior visits to Atlanta, so it was nice to see him this time. I am looking forward to seeing Todd over Christmas.

After lunch I needed to head across town to drop the bike. On the freeway I met another V-Strommer that was on his way from Pennsylvania down to Florida. Funny thing was that he had his saddlebags on the rear seat in cargo net. Somehow he thought it saved fuel. I’d pass on the fuel savings and have the bags anchored to the bike. With the pavement being dark, the weather being so hot, and no splitting lanes it was the longest 30 miles I’ve ridden in a long time.
Some 90 minutes later I got to the shipping depot and wasn’t exactly sure what to do. I found someone who told us to see that person and get to that place where the next person did the same. Once we found who we needed to see the next step was to get the bike loaded onto the skid and tied down. Getting it on the skid was another challenge as you had to get over a big bump then brake hard to not overshoot the skid. A few stalls later the bike was on the skid.
After the bike was set the shipper had to find all the damage on the bike to note it. I had always thought the V-Strom was in pretty good shape, but after that exercise it appeared to be a piece of junk. He noted every scratch on the surface of the bike… Way more than I had expected. But after 35,000 miles the bike is going to start showing some wear. It was hard to leave the bike in strangers hands, but I was supposed to see it in Mountain View a few days later. Pretty impressive.

Friday night the my sister and kids were back in town. We had a nice dinner in at home and it was good to see the kids one more time. Lisa hates to see me go (for which I’m thankful).
It’s hard to believe that in five short hours I am going to be home. We’ve progressed so much in our ability to make the world a closer place. To think 100 years ago it took months to make this journey to a few days in a car, and only hours in a plane.

I made it back to San Francisco but couldn’t find a ride from the airport home. Scott came to get us from the Fremont BART. It was sort of the long way to get home, but we made it and for that I am thankful.
On the bicycle ride to work I knew vacation was over, but I knew I lived well through it. Such adventure to go back to one’s roots. Wow!
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