Mapping the Next Ridge

Spread my creased paper road map across the flat seat of the blue cruiser before packing up camp. Your message got me thinking about where to point the front wheel next. Ran my gloved thumb past the Tahoe basin line, tracking Highway 395 as it cuts north toward the high desert and the jagged volcanic timber of the Cascades. Less crowded blacktop, plenty of quiet dirt cutoffs, and good mountain passes to run the engine through. Marked an old logging outpost near the state border with a blunt pencil stub, folded the map down, and slid it back into my leather bag. Time to kick the starter and head north.