The packing guys came bright and early Monday morning the 19th of August and packed the dog, cat and anything else that sat still for more than a second. I had most everything packed, but there were some things I just didn't want to deal with. Ken had packed about 1/4 of the garage and his upstairs room so that is where they spent most of their time. I think they got done around 1:00 or so, so we had a house completely full of boxes. Tuesday morning the moving van came and our driver was totally cool and offered to take the motorcycles, much to my relief because that meant I could drive my car instead of the Camaro and we wouldn't have to tow a questionable trailer from U-Haul. The bikes were packed in very tightly and even the Coke sitting on the Buell's seat didn't spill. After that, we cleaned up, turned our keys in to the Rental Bitch, went out to one last bad dinner at Marie Calendar's and hit the road about 6:00 p.m. We made it as far as Roseburp and paid for an overpriced mediocre room. Driving down I-5 through the middle of California's finest scenery is always a delight. Somewhere between Sacramento and Bakersfield, my tachometer and speedometer were going spastic, dropping to zero, bouncing up again and the radio would cut in and out. I phoned Ken and when we pulled in around Bakersfield, he crawled around, checking the wires and found nothing wrong. We spend a luxurious night at the Super 8 Motel (the rich man's Motel 6).
The packing guys came bright and early Monday morning the 19th of August and packed the dog, cat and anything else that sat still for more than a second. I had most everything packed, but there were some things I just didn't want to deal with. Ken had packed about 1/4 of the garage and his upstairs room so that is where they spent most of their time. I think they got done around 1:00 or so, so we had a house completely full of boxes. Tuesday morning the moving van came and our driver was totally cool and offered to take the motorcycles, much to my relief because that meant I could drive my car instead of the Camaro and we wouldn't have to tow a questionable trailer from U-Haul. The bikes were packed in very tightly and even the Coke sitting on the Buell's seat didn't spill. After that, we cleaned up, turned our keys in to the Rental Bitch, went out to one last bad dinner at Marie Calendar's and hit the road about 6:00 p.m. We made it as far as Roseburp and paid for an overpriced mediocre room. Driving down I-5 through the middle of California's finest scenery is always a delight. Somewhere between Sacramento and Bakersfield, my tachometer and speedometer were going spastic, dropping to zero, bouncing up again and the radio would cut in and out. I phoned Ken and when we pulled in around Bakersfield, he crawled around, checking the wires and found nothing wrong. We spend a luxurious night at the Super 8 Motel (the rich man's Motel 6).