Ken agreed to meet me at Trinidad for breakfast. He was all packed up and ready to go even before I had a chance to fold up my hammock. He was nowhere to be seen when I got there so I had breakfast without him. On my way back towards the 101 I heard my name shouted. Ken was at the filling station eating a breakfast burrito.
We talked as we rode throughout the whole day. I discovered he was a retired Las Vegas policeman who had run for judge but barely lost the election. He was on his second big trip, the first being 3800 miles. Oh yeah, he's also married to Mrs Nevada 2007.
He rode differently than me; slower, wanting to stop often to check things out. Perhaps I was doing this trip all wrong. I should be taking more of it in rather than jetting down to LA as quickly as possible. Anyway, he’s slowing me down and I’m speeding him up – which actually turned out to be working in both of favor since the campsites are now scarce and timing to reach them has to be accurate else we risk too short or long days.
We reached Weott, in the middle of the Avenue of the Giants.
We talked as we rode throughout the whole day. I discovered he was a retired Las Vegas policeman who had run for judge but barely lost the election. He was on his second big trip, the first being 3800 miles. Oh yeah, he's also married to Mrs Nevada 2007.
He rode differently than me; slower, wanting to stop often to check things out. Perhaps I was doing this trip all wrong. I should be taking more of it in rather than jetting down to LA as quickly as possible. Anyway, he’s slowing me down and I’m speeding him up – which actually turned out to be working in both of favor since the campsites are now scarce and timing to reach them has to be accurate else we risk too short or long days.
We reached Weott, in the middle of the Avenue of the Giants.
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