I'd venture to say that every die-hard biker has wanted to hook up with a buddy and spend a month or two riding motorcycles across the country.

In my college days, my friend Greg and I often talked about doing that. We were going to ride our bikes, my 400cc Kawasaki, and his 450cc Kawasaki, across the USA and back. Looking back, those bikes were probably too small, and too uncomfortable to do such a ride. But we didn't care, we just wanted to leave everything behind and let our instincts take over.

There's a certain romanticism about doing that. Perhaps it harkens back to the days of the frontiersmen, like Lewis and Clark exploring the West, and going whereever the river takes them. It's an equalizer that takes a college graduate and a high-school dropout and makes them equal men by reducing their existence down to mere travellers who have little more than each other's company.

Not too long ago, my neighbor and I talked about the same thing. We were going to go on a really long run for a burger and beer, leaving home here in So Cal, and going up into Canada, and over to the northern-most tip of Maine. He was going to be Wyatt, and I was going to be Billy. But his wife ended up slapping him with divorce papers, and I haven't seen him in months.

Today, one of my riding buddies mentioned buying into one of those motorcycle tour packages, where they fly you out to Canada, or Europe, and you tour the countryside on BMWs. And then, another buddy mentioned riding up the Pacific Coast and back.

Last August, me and a few other riding pals left So Cal to go to the Four Corners Rally in Colorado. We spent six days of riding. On the way back, we met two other guys who were on their 23th day of riding. They came from Kentucky, and they were just putting around the countryside, seeing the sights, living free, and basically rolling the dice to see which town they'll ride to next.

As I'm getting older, I realize I'm not getting any younger. Everyone has to have a moment when they shove their foot up their boss' ass, and spend the next month living like nomads on motorcycles. Of course, I'm self-employed, and it probably won't work that way in my case. But I'm thinking that time is passing by, and I'm wondering if that moment is calling my name.

Labels: Road Trips

We left our motel in Flagstaff at 6:00am, and got a quick breakfast at Del Taco. Stumpy put some more oil into his bike, and we got out on the road around 7:00am.

We took I-40 west, and flew through between 90-100mph. We got gas in Seligman. As we descended into the desert valley, the temperature heated up quickly. We got more gas in Yucca. We got into Needles, and then headed south on CA-95. Around this time, the temperature was clearly in the 100s. When we reached the Vidal Junction, we had to take a break.

Eventually we got into Blythe, and stopped for lunch and some air conditioning. Finishing lunch, we took I-10 west. Lewis decided to break away from the group and headed to Indio at his own speed. The rest of us travelled between 80-90mph driving in and out of all the holiday traffic. When descended down into the Coachella Valley, the temperature rose up some more.

We pulled into the 76 station on Monroe Street in Indio and found Lewis there. The gas station attendant said the air temperature was 108 degrees. But he said the road was about 135 degrees, based on an infrared temperature sensor they have.

When we got into Cabazon, the traffic came to a stop, and we split lanes all the way to Banning, where there was a traffic accident. We got into Beaumont, and Lewis and Bob took the 60 back home, while Stumpy and I took the 79 into Hemet. We stopped at the Yellow Basket in Menifee for drinks, and then headed off in different directions back home.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

Today was the day we start our journey back home. Stumpy's sister and her family met us at 8:00am for breakfast. We were supposed to go to place called "Nero's", located in downtown Cortez, but she said it was closed. We ended up at one of those local places where only the locals go to, and where all the customers know each other.

One of the waitresses told us that she was disappointed that the City of Cortez didn't make an effort to host the Rally. She felt that bikers were mostly good people who were willing to spend lots of money, but that she was the only one who had such an opinion, and that everyone else hated bikers. I got the feeling that all the other customers didn't want us around.

After breakfast we said goodbye to Stumpy's sister, and headed out. Our first stop was the Four Corners National Monument. I wanted to get a photo of myself standing on the Four Corners platform. I ended up buying a t-shirt, while Bob got some t-shirts and other stuff, and Stumpy bought earrings for Tammy, and Lewis didn't buy anything.

The Four Corners National Monument is located within the Najavo Indian Reservation, or what the Najavos refer to as the Navajo Nation. The reservation covers three states, New Mexico, Arizona and Utah, and is the largest reservation in the USA. It's larger than many of our states. Stumpy noted that the Navajos today look just like those depicted in old photographs dating back into the 1800s. This is probably because the reservation is so large, that most Navajos never breed with people outside their race. They don't have any casinos, which may be due to their own choice, or not, I don't know.

From here, the plan was to take Highway 160 into Arizona, to Mexican Water and get gas. From there, take Highway 191 south to Ganado, and then take Highway 15 to Flagstaff.

When we got into Mexican Water, Stumpy met a couple of other bikers from Kentucky. They were on their 23rd day of riding all over the country. They had just spent the night at a motel in Kayenta, AZ, where they had spent $100.00 for one night. One of them mentioned the closest thing to sex he's had all month was getting screwed in Kayenta.

We turned down Highway 191 on our way to Chinle. The road is mostly straight, taking a turn only in a few places. It eventually ran past the town of Rock Point, a place where towering columns of rock shoot out from the ground and reach up to the sky. Past Point of Rocks, the scenery looked something like Monument Valley, Utah.

About halfway down highway 191, we rolled into the City of Chinle, which appeared to be the largest city in the entire Navajo Indian Reservation. Next to the city was Canyon de Chelly National Monument, a deep canyon where indians once lived. We went in, and found that it didn't require any fees to enter. Canyon de Chelly offered two roads, the north rim, and the south rim. We took the south rim. The road provides some breathtaking views of the canyon. The canyon itself was about as spectacular as the Grand Canyon. You could see some old cliff dwellings, and evidence that people were still living in the canyon.

At the Canyon de Chelly visitor center, we met an indian man who's claim to fame was that the famous photographer, Ansel Adams, had photographed his mother back in the 1940's. Adams apparently visited Canyon de Chelly back then and took several photographs, many of which were reproduced on posters and published in books. He apparently had taken a photo of his mother holding a baby. The indian man said that his mother, now 97 years old, was looking at one of Adams' photography books, and saw that photo of her. She told her son that was a photo of her holding one of his older brothers. That is now the story he tells.

Also at the visitor center, Stumpy saw a Honda 1100 Sabre, Touring Edition. He couldn't believe his eyes, because so few of the Touring Editions were made, let alone still existing. When we rode around the park, and stopped at one of the viewing areas, he saw the same motorcycle again. This time, he managed to meet its owners, a couple travelling from Sacramento to Mexico. He probably spent a good 20 minutes talking to them, and asked if he could hear the pipes. The bike had a set of Vance & Hines duallies that made a deep rumbling sound. Stumpy cracked the throttle a bit and was pretty impressed.

We left Canyon de Chelly, got gas in Chinle, and continued down highway 191. The road from here offered views of mostly open plain. It looked like we were in the middle of the plain, with hundreds of miles of open range all around us. The skies were partially cloudly, and in some of the clouds you could streaks of rain falling in the distance.

Rolling into Ganado, we got gas and rested a short bit. We were about to leave, when the couple riding the Honda 1100 Sabre Touring Edition pulled up into the same gas station. They were going to keep going south, and we were going to take a left turn into the town of Ganado to visit the Hubbell Trading Post.

The Hubbell Trading Post was a place where Navajo indians used to bring their handiwork and trade them for American made goods. It was built by a guy named John Lorenzo Hubbell, who suprisingly looked just like Stumpy, but with a more weathered face. The trading post is still a store selling western products, though I don't think they accept any other form of trade other than currency. Bob bought some tomatillo salsa, and explained to Stumpy how good it was on enchiladas. Stumpy bought some too.

We got back on the bikes, and headed west to highway 15. Highway 15 is a two lane road, running from Ganado to Leupp, and is administered by the Najavo Nation. On MapQuest, it is shown, but not marked with any number. In fact, none of the roads administered by the Navajo Nation are identified on MapQuest. The Rand McNally US Atlas that I keep in my saddlebags doesn't depict any of their highways. The first 30 miles of highway 15 is pock-marked with holes and cracks and made for some rough riding. The next 40 miles appears to have been recently repaved and is smooth. Then, it goes back to rough riding for another 20 miles, until you leave the indian reservation. Highway 15 has very few curves. There are stretches where you drive for 10 or 20 miles of straight road, and very little traffic. The scenery is mostly grassy plain, with a few hills here and there.

We rolled into Leupp, and got gas at the only gas station. The station had four pumps, but only one worked. Plus, there were other cars ahead of us in line, and so it took awhile for all of us to get back on our way.

The town of Leupp is on the western-edge of the Navajo Nation. Leaving town we returned to the world of the whiteman. We were only about 20 miles out of Flagstaff.

We got our motel around 5:30pm, and Stumpy dropped his bike taking too sharp of a turn in the parking lot. He pretty much stopped rolling by then, and didn't really hurt anything. For dinner, we walked across the street to a Fazoli's, for some cheap italian grub.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

The plan was for all of us to ride to Mesa Verde National Park, located just outside of Cortez, CO, and then ride to Ignacio to spend the day at the Rally.

We all got to Mesa Verde, and found a nice scenic ride through the park to the visitor center. Mesa Verde is a series of canyons with indian cliff dwellings built into the crevices. We were about to get on our way to visit the various dwellings, when Stumpy said he wasn't feeling well. He opted to head back to the motel.

The rest of us rode on to the "Cliff Palace", which is the largest of the cliff dwellings. The Cliff Palace requires buying a tour ticket to actually up to the dwelling. Otherwise, you'd have to view it from a distance. So, Bob, Lewis and myself each bought tickets, and hiked down to the dwellings.

Mesa Verde has lots of archeological sites and hikes, you could spend several days there seeing it all. The roads within the park offer some nice scenic motorcycle rides, but at slow speeds. There's a lot of tight twisties, and a lot of slow moving cars. The road takes you up to the top of Mesa Verde, and gives you some expansive views of south west Colorado.

We got out of Mesa Verde around 2:30pm, and rode into Durango for lunch. We headed down Main Street in the old part of town. You could see thousands of bikes parked on along Main Street in the city center, which is where I had led the group to. Bob mentioned seeing a place called "Lost Dog Bar & Lounge", about block back, but had no bikes anywhere near it. He figured it wouldn't be crowded there, and would be a better place to go. I mentioned that the fact that no bikes were parked there suggested it was not as good as the other bars and restaurants. Nonetheless, Lewis agreed with Bob, and we rode back and parked our bikes there.

It turned out to be a good choice. The food was good, and so was beer. We were pretty much the only customers there. But not too long after, other bikers started walking in, one after another. Perhaps the sight of our bikes parked out front made other people feel comfortable about trying it out.

After lunch, we headed over to Ignacio. The rode to Ignacio was filled with bikers riding to in and out of town. Ignacio itself is located inside an Indian Reservation. Most of the riders were riding at the posted speed limit of 55mph, while the three of us and a handful of others were blowing past them at 80mph.

In Ignacio, the city center was jammed with bikes and vendors. I'd say about 90% of the bikes were Harleys. We got into the fairgrounds, and found rows and rows of tents where bikers were staying. Here and there, guys were waving signs that said, "Show us yer tits", and here and there girls were flashing them. Somehow, Bob managed to look in the right direction at the right time, and became the beneficiary to much of it.

At the Beer Garden, they had elevated stages where girls in skimpy bikinis danced about, giving everyone crotch shots. One gal was cute and thin, another was cute but chubby, while another was middle-aged and completely misshaped. Bob noted another girl in the audience flashing her boobs.

The Rally schedule for today pretty much had nothing going on until 4:00pm, when the men's wrestling took place. Other than that, the only other event was a concert from The Guess Who, at 9:30pm. Since neither of us were interested in watching wrestling, and none of us cared to hear The Guess Who, we wandered about the vendor area and found nothing extraordinary, same old shit, different place.

We left the Rally around 6:30pm, and headed back to our motel in Cortez to pick up Stumpy for dinner. Stumpy's sister Janet was driving down from Denver with her husband and daughter to visit him, and we were all supposed to have dinner with them at 7:00pm. On the way back we ran into patches of rain. I was leading them back at around 80mph, when Bob decided to take over and lead us back at 90mph. Just outside of Cortez it really started pouring. Fortunately, we were able to get to the motel before we got totally soaked. We learned the next day that the rain got really bad in Durango and Ignacio. A couple of riders who were staying at our motel couldn't ride back, and had to sleep in the lobby of a motel in Durango.

That evening, we all went out to dinner with Stumpy's sister and her family. We went to a place called "The Dry Dock" in downtown Cortez. The restaurant was like an upscale family restaurant, probably not something that bikers would frequent. After dinner, Stumpy's sister wanted to ride on the back of his motorcycle, but he was already going to take her daughter instead. So, she rode on the back of mine. We got close to the motel when she said she wanted to keep on riding. So I kept going, and ended up riding to someplace where I had no idea where I was going. So, I turned around and went back to the motel.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

We headed out to breakfast at 8:30am, at the local Denny's in Cortez. Around 9:15am we got back on the road headed towards Durango.

Along the way I saw several highway patrol cars cruising the highway, several others pulling over cars, so we kept our speed to about 5mph over the speed limit.

The temperature along highway 160 to Durango was pretty cold. When we got into Durango, Tom wanted to pull over to put an extra shirt on, so I found a McDonald's.

We headed north on US-550 towards Silverton. The highway is surrounded by tall mountains. The road ascends almost immediately after leaving Durango, and hits a peak of about 10,600 feet at Coal Bank Pass. We pulled off the side of the road at the pass to get some photos.

Further down the road we stopped at another place, which had a higher elevation, around 10,900 feet.

We got to Silverton around 11:00am. The place was full of bikes, and the whole town was taken over by bikers. We mostly walked in and out of shops, and taking photos. Lewis bought a sweatshirt, and Tom and I bought t-shirts.

As we headed out to our bikes, it started raining. Lewis wanted to sit it out, while Tom argued that we need to move on. I agreed with Tom, and we got back on the highway, heading to Ouray. The rain didn't last that long.

We stopped at another rest stop, called "Red Mountain", which is named after the town nearby. Further down the road, we stopped at another location where a bunch of bikes were parked. There was a waterfall here. Water from Mineral Creek ran down a mountain, and crossed underneath the road through a tunnel, and came out the other side. I took photos, while Tom, Lews, and Bob were more interested in talking to a biker couple.

The gal in the couple was named "Trish", who looked she was in her thirties, while the guy she was riding with looked he was in his sixties. But she was a really lively character. Tom mentioned that we were headed up to Black Canyon of the Gunnison, and they insisted we go there. But because we took so much time in Silverton, we were not going to make it. So, she said she would e-mail Tom some photos, and he gave her his IHRC business card.

We got back on the road, and made our way into Ouray. We weren't really supposed to do too much here, but since we were not going to make it to Black Canyon of the Gunnison, we chose to get a bite to eat. Then we rode up to Box Canyon Falls, which is just outside of town.

Box Canyon Falls was a lot of fun. The Falls is located at the very beginning of the canyon, where the water appears come from behind the rocks and boulders. There's a "cat walk" located about 50 feet above the water. The walk takes you close to the falling water, and then gives you a stairway down to the base.

After the falls, the time was about 3:30pm, and we still hadn't reached the half-way point of the route. We headed up to Ridgway, and then got on CO-62 to Placerville. Then we got on CO-145 south, headed to Dolores. CO-145 ran past several small town towns, eventually taking us to Telluride. Our original plan was to stop in Telluride, but the time was getting late so passed it by.

Eventually, the road took us up to Mount Wilson, which offered a spectacular view. We stopped in a town called Rico to get gas. There we met another biker couple taking a break. The guy went by the name of "Cowboy". He rode up here from Mobile, Alabama a couple weeks earlier. The girl he was with he had only met since arriving here. She worked up in Telluride, and he was giving her a ride back home.

They took off first, and we took off just a minute later. Eventually we caught up to them, because he got stuck behind some slow moving cars. It turned out there was another biker at the very front holding everyone back. We were able to pass all the cars one-by-one, and pass the motorcycle rider.

We got into Dolores, and then continued on to Cortez, and made it back to our motel around 6:15pm.

About 8:00pm, we got back together and headed out to dinner. We went into Main Street Brewery. We ended up seeing "Cowboy" there, and we chatted with him. Then we discovered his girlfriend working there. She said she works parttime there, in addition to working in Telluride.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

We left our motel in Flagstaff at 7:30am, and had breakfast at the nearby Coco's. By 8:30am, we headed north on 89A. A few miles out of Flagstaff, we decided to pull into Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument. The road into the park was surrounded by fields of yellow sunflowers, with tall green pines behind them. Really pretty, but too bad we didn't get a photo of it.

The road within the park runs a circular route back to 89A, with about 30 miles of scenic road. You can see the lava flow, which is black lava rock with sharp crags. You can see Sunset Crater itself, and views of the painted desert. Further down the road is the Wapatki Ruins, worth stopping and checking out.

Getting back on 89A, we continued north to US-160, and headed east. Everything on US-160 is all Navajo indian reservation, all the way to the Colorado border, about 230 miles. We got gas in Tuba City and Kayenta. Much of the landscape along this road is flat and uninteresting, with the exception of about 10 miles before you get into Kayenta, which offers some cliff formations.

We cruised most of US-160 at 85mph. We encountered a lot of groups of bikers headed the same direction. But for whatever reason, they were all riding at slower pace, maybe 65mph to 75mph. We blew past them all. We did see a few cars that got pulled over by the Tribal Police, so that explain why a lot of bikers were riding slow. But we managed to get through without incident.

We got into Teec Nos Pos, a town right near the New Mexico border. We were supposed to gas up here. But Tom talked to a local indian, who said it was only another 25 miles to Cortez. So, he decided to forego gas here. It turned out to be another 39 miles instead. So, we ended up having to get gas about 10 miles before Cortez.

Gasoline prices from Flagstaff all the way up to Cortez seemed to average about $3.00 a gallon. We saw some prices for regular at $3.20.

We stopped at Four Corners National Monument, but they wanted $3.00 per person to stand on the platform. Tom decided it was too much money, so he didn't want to go in. We took photos of the sign, however. I complained that we came all this way to check out Four Corners, and he didn't want to spend the $3.00 to see it. I think on the way home, I'll pay his ticket to get in.

We got into our motel rooms around 6:00pm, and headed out to dinner at 7:30pm. We went to "Lotsa Pasta", in Cortez. The food was really good. Lewis wanted us to sit outside on the patio deck. Turned out the deck was full of flying bugs. We ate there anyways.

We got back to the motel, and planned out tomorrow's ride. A lot of bikers here at the motel, and a lot of bikers riding up and down the street. There's supposed to be even more bikers in Durango.

Temperatures here in Cortez is ok. When we pulled into the motel, it felt like 85 degrees. When we came back to the motel from dinner, it felt like 65 degrees. It's supposed to get down into the 40's in early morning.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

I left home at 6:00am, on my way to pick up Tom at the Yellow Basket, in Menifee. We headed out on our way to the Denny's Restaurant in Beaumont, off the intersection of Highway 79 and I-10. Bob arrived soon after, but no Lewis. We got a few drinks and toast while waiting, and he finally showed up. We got on our way at 7:30am, headed east on I-10.

Being 30 minutes late on our schedule, we sped along to Indio, our first gas stop, running between 85-90mph. By the time we got into Indio, the temperature was getting warm, probably around 90 deg. We took off our jackets.

Got back on the I-10, and sped along between 90-100mph, trying to race the heat. We got into Blythe, and pulled off to get some drinks and some air conditioning at a Del Taco. It was about 10:00am.

From there, we cross the Arizona border, and got gas at Ehrenburg. Having gotten ourselves back on schedule, we ran at a steady 85mph to the AZ-60 off ramp. From there, we headed up AZ-60 about 80mph, and got gas at Aguila. Aguila, was probably fairly large town considering the tiny rat holes along the AZ-60 thus far. Temperature felt like 105 deg. Lots of hispanics loitering around, probably waiting out the head until evening to go back to work in the fields.

Our plan was to have lunch in Congress, AZ, only 20 miles from Aguila. We got into Congress, and found the only cafe. It had a gravel parking lot. Tom and Lewis pulled into the parking lot, while Bob and I kinda waited, and stayed on our bikes. Tom noticed the cafe was closed. So he got back on his bike, and backed out of the parking lot. He was about back into Bob, when Bob hit his horn. But Tom didn't hear it, and forced Bob to push himself back, but he lost footing on the gravel, and dropped his bike.

We changed plans to get lunch in Yarnell. But Lewis wanted to instead go straight to Prescott for lunch. So we let him lead us the way.

Highway 89A into Prescott was a great ride. It goes up into the mountains, with lots of twisties, keeping you at about 30-50 mph. But great scenery, and cooler temperatures.

We pulled in Prescott, and parked by the Old Court House. Took some photos, and started looking for a place to chow. We wandered into one place that seemed like it would offer air conditioning. It was The Historic Palace. It took them a long time to get our lunch delivered, so Tom complained and managed to get two of our dishes comped.

We then headed down the 89A, to Jerome. Again, the ride on the 89A was a motorcyclist's dream. Lots of curves, great scenery, the smell of pine trees, and smooth pavement. Well, some places were kinda bumpy, but mostly good.

We got into Jerome. Jerome is an old west town built on the side of a mountain. We pulled into Paul & Jerry's Saloon, which bills itself as the oldest active saloon in Arizona. It certainly looked old. We got drinks, and continued north on 89A to Sedona.

We got into Sedona, probably around 3:30pm. The views of the red rock canyons were spectacular. We pulled into "old town", which didn't look all that old. We got ice creams at a shop, and enjoyed some more air conditioning.

Continuing north on 89A, we got into what was probably the best part of the ride. 89A from Sedona to Flagstaff was some of the best riding I've been on. It runs along the bottom of a canyon, with the stream running nearby. Flanked by both sides are towering canyon walls of red, white, and tan streaks. Tall trees grew along the road, hanging their branches and leaves over the road casting a cool shade. The curves swept along at degrees that allowed you to ride a leisurely 50-60mph. This is a stretch of road every motorcycle rider ought to ride.

We pulled into our motel at 6:00am. Bob had to take his air filter cover off to re-attach his breather hose. We headed out for dinner at 7:30, and ate at "Black Bart's Steak House". It was located in the middle of a RV Campground. The waitresses and waiters there are all music students at Northern Arizona University. They are required to get on the stage at the restaurant and sing songs from operas, musical comedies, and various standards. Some of it was bad enough to be quite funny. The food was great, though pricey. All in all we had a blast. We were the only bikers, while everyone else were "snow birds".

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

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Beginning early tomorrow morning, I'll be heading out to Colorado, to visit the "Rally in the Rockies".

The Rally actually runs the entire Labor Day Weekend, but I'll only be there for one day, Saturday, Sep. 3rd.

I'll be riding from Southern California (Menifee), with three other riders, all from the Iron Horses Riding Club. It will be a six day ride, taking us through California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado.

Check back, as I'll be recording the trip each day, and taking lots of photos. Don't think I'll be uploading photos online until after I get back, as I'll only have dial-up access in the motels. Here is a brief itinerary:

Day 1: Ride to Flagstaff, AZ, via I-10, to AZ-60, up to Prescott, Jerome, Sedona, and on to Flagstaff.

Day 2: Ride north to Four Corners Monument, and then on to Cortez, CO.

Day 3: Tour the "San Juan Skyway", which includes a ride along the Million Dollar Highway, stopping in Durango, Silverton, Ouray, and Telluride.

Day 4: Visit the Rally in the Rockies. Visit the Mesa Verde National Monument on the way back.

Day 5: Head back to Flagstaff, AZ, via AZ-191.

Day 6: Head home via I-40, to CA-95 to CA-62 to I-10

Hopefully my laptop will survive the trip.

Labels: Road Trips

Rick Davidson, of Olathe, KS, returned Sunday, June 19 from a 16 day coast-to-coast motorcycle trip for spinal cord injury awareness and research. Rick was injured 17 years ago in a freak motorcycle accident that left him paralyzed from the chin down and now relies on a ventilator to breath.

Rick completed the trip on a specially designed trailer towed from a 2003 Harley Davidson Electra Glide. The trip began from his home on June 3rd, along with 2 nurses and some close friends. They proceeded to Montgomery, New York to mark the "official" start of the trip, running from Orange County Choppers on June 6th. After a tour of the OCC facility, Rick and his team headed to Washington, DC for a meeting at the White House with Vice President Cheney's Legislative staff and President Bush's public liaison. The official Coast to Coast portion of the trip ended in Burbank, CA on June 14th with a meeting with Jay Leno for a taping of the Tonight Show.

Rick will be returning to Washington, DC the week of July 11th to speak with Congressional members regarding 3 bills currently being considered, "Money Follows the Person", "Christopher Reeve Paralysis Act" and "Medicaid Community-Based Attendant Services and Supports Act of 2005 (MiCASSA).

For more info on Rick and his motorcycle trip, visit his website.

Labels: Road Trips