Last weekend, we packed the truck and headed for Sacramento.
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Diapers, travel crib, stroller, motorcycle.
We visited old friends and started new fall traditions. Apple orchards and pumpkin patches with our families.
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And kept a few old traditions alive.
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My grandparents rode motorcycles. As they rode, they helped others. Hundreds of motorcyclists attended my grandmother’s funeral and many shared how their lives were transformed after meeting with her. I hope to honor their legacy.
The best place to ride a motorcycle is California: natural beauty everywhere, wonderful weather, lane-splitting, moto culture, mountains, rivers — for all of its problems there is a reason so many come from all over to enjoy this place.
I came to California to work. These days folks can work anywhere. But there is something special in this place. It is not perfect, but it is home.
I intend to remain and raise my family here. Instead of seeking a place with less problems, I want to help leave this place better than I found it. I set out to do just that many years ago. And now I am beyond thankful to call this place home.
California, forever.