Live to ride, Ride to live...

I love to ride. Saturday morning I strapped on my helmet, hopped on the back of my old man's bike (fondly known as the bitch seat) and we rode up to Angeles Crest Highway. Who knew that only 45 miles from our little abode on Hampton Avenue in WeHo is gorgeous sunny, clear, air-you-can-breathe mountainous paradise on two wheels. Here we are on the highway. Me, my camera and my gay husband.

I was born and raised here in Los Angeles, so I've been up Angeles Crest before but it's generally been in the back-back of a Buick station wagon or a school bus for some forced, "Let's play in this white stuff, it's called snow." time. Let me tell you, the back of a Buick does not give you nearly the thrill of the back of a hot motorcycle. Woo hoo!!!

We stopped at Mount Wilson to briefly observe the big antennas (he he, you said antennas). Then we went further in search of sustenance and somewhere to rest our tired butts. Let me tell you all, riding on a motorcycle is hard on the ass. At some point your ass completely gives out and you think, "my ass has fallen off the bike and onto the asphalt below and I am now riding only on my crotch." Then you get off the bike and all the blood flows back into your ass and you realize, "nope, still have my ass. Darn."

Up on the top of Angeles Crest Hwy. is a very festive roadhouse called Newcomb's Ranch. Michael and I pulled off the road and parked our bike next to all of the other bikes in the lot. Who knew there would be live music by a smelly ZZ Top looking group, a hot BBQ out back cookin' up ribs and burgers and real nice wait staff to boot. We were sold!

Newcombs seems to have just expanded and, just in case anyone's heading up there and needs a recommendation, the view was fantastic, their burgers were awesome and their bathrooms were sparkly clean!!! Something I love in my road house!

After lunch we headed out front to listen to the band and chat up some of our fellow riders who commented on Michael's new chrome air filter. Mmmm, pretty air filter... Michael beamed, as he should, because it's a really freakin' gorgeous bike and all the big tough biker dudes thought so too. I think most of the big tough biker dudes are really sweet teddy bears - and besides, we have as many tattoos as they do!

I took a lot of pictures that I wanted to put up but something is preventing it so I'm super pissed. Two of my favorites are 1) a clear shot of us on the 134 freeway in Glendale going 80 miles an hour and 2) I took some video that if you get queasy thinking about riding a bike, you shouldn't see.

Motorcycling makes me feel pretty free. It's about the only thing that does. I trust Michael's riding so I'm not anxious. I don't need to be anywhere at a specific time. I feel like no one's going to judge me on the back of a bike and if they try to, I'll cut them with my shiv. I feel like I don't have to answer to anyone and the kids in the cars next to me can smile and I'll smile back without wondering what their looking at - I know they're looking on the chick on the back of that bike.