~ Fred's Harley ~

"Man does not weave this web of life.  He is merely a strand of it.  Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself" ~ Chief  Seattle

The Harley-Davidson in Scott's driveway

The statute of limitations will help me now tell this story, but I was a bit nervous as the details unfolded.  

It began innocently enough when my neighbor Scott asked, “Bob, could you do me a favor.”  “Sure” was my immediate reply.

It seems that he needed me to ride a Harley-Davidson motorcycle parked in his driveway over to a friend’s house in Three Rivers.  “You can take it for a nice ride too if you want,” Scott added.  

It has been a long time since I rode a Harley, so I jumped at the chance.  The bike fired up nicely, sleek, and looked like fun.

Then the details began to unfold and now I’m thinking what did I get myself into.  Scott said that it would be a great story for my blog, but at the time I wasn’t so sure.

The Harley was light and quick ~ Sequoia National Park in the distance

These are the details Scott presented: 

“Fred (a friend and local contractor) was offered a great deal on a very low mileage, 2012 Harley.  Fred bought the bike before asking his wife, so in the interest of marital bliss, I offered to store the bike at my house until he found the right time to tell her.”  

Ok, now this sounds like a hot potato I whisper myself.

Scott continues.  “The bike was originally going to be a "Christmas present" from one of Fred's clients, but he broke his ankle in a construction accident and the time didn't seem right...

A New Year's plan was overruled in favor of visiting friends so Fred started planning his next attempt to get his wife interested in getting a Harley...

The plan was to show up with the bike on Valentine's day and take his wife for a ride through the Sierras but she had other plans and vetoed his bike trip idea...

Four months later he had still not found the right time. The bike sits covered with a tarp in my driveway ~ but hey, that's what friends are for.   So, with a little help from his friends, Fred hatched a new, and hopefully more successful plan.”

The infamous note

Scott continues to explain that the plan was to take his wife boating on a nearby lake. Meanwhile, we would drive the bike over to Fred's house and leave it in the driveway with the attached note from his friend Dave who he bought the bike from originally.

Fred and his wife stopped by River View on the way home and ran into Dave, who mentioned that he had left a birthday present at Dave's house.  When Fred and his wife arrived home they found the motorcycle. Fred's wife insisted that Fred call Dave and thank him but just before Dave answered, she ask Fred to put it on speaker.  

Evidently, Dave did a masterful job of maintaining the ruse and today Fred can finally park his hog outside his house.

I don’t know Fred or his wife, and this plan seems like it could back fire on me delivering his motorcycle to their house under these conditions.  

But I did it.  

The bike ride was awesome and this Harley handled well.

The bike was delivered, and to the best of my knowledge, the Harley has a new loving home.

Fred's Harley is delivered

~ Ride Free ~

The BLM Laguna Mountain, Upper Sweetwater is a great camping spot on my way to the Hollister motorcycle rally over this fourth of July weekend.  It is just north/west of Coalinga and sits on a lonely country road called Los Gatos Creek Road, and later simply Coalinga Road. 

You may see a bobcat or wild pigs in the area.  Today, there is a nice buck looking at me from the shadows of a big blue oak as I pass by.  Once near dark, a herd of wild pigs startled me around a corner, as they ran wildly passed my motorcycle.  Today, there is ample sun to get me safely to my first night camp.  In front of me, there is a potential new camp called Condon Peak.  It sits high on the mountain and the cool breeze will be a relief to the hot sun.  It is run by BLM, has a table, roof shelter, and fire pit.  There is basic restroom nearby.  This looks like a good spot, and I gather some firewood and settle into this camp.  Tomorrow, I ride by Pinnacles National Park and then onto Hollister for the rally.

There are many motorcycles that pass by and that seems odd as this is normally a pretty lonely road.  There seem to be more vehicles coming by on the Coalinga Road as well.  Must all be going to the rally I tell myself.  There is no cell reception and Denise knows by now not to worry unless she doesn't hear from me in two days, sometimes three depending upon the area.  My transistor radio picks up a nice country western station from San Jose while I rig my hammock between the two metal posts at the simple yet comfortable BLM shelter.

It is not a big fire but it is perfect to heat up my can of beef stew for dinner.  My brother Gilbert suggested that we always pack a can of stew in our saddle bags just in case.  Denise gave me some gourmet beef jerky that is very good.  I'll save most of it for later.  The three liters of water will keep me hydrated and what is left over in the morning will be used to put out my morning cooking fire.

This is a perfect time to think about my new relationship with RoadRUNNER Magazine.  They are publishing some of my stories in a chronicle called, In Pursuit of Wildness, featuring our National Parks.  My decision to move forward with RoadRUNNER was easy.  They produce a quality, professional motorcycle magazine with awesome stories.  They print a paper magazine, as well as a digital on-line version.  I am impressed with the quality of their articles, and their mantra "Read, Discover, Ride" agrees with me.  Since my adult life has revolved around the National Parks and I love to ride motorcycles, this a good fit for me.  My first article, which appears in their July/August edition, focuses on the National Park Service's 100th anniversary which is on August 25, 2016.  I am proud to be a part of these celebrations along with them.  I feel that the past 100 years of the National Park is important but the next 100 years will be most important, teaching our children the value of preserving and protecting nature, keeping our National Park alive and well, and for me, all in the pursuit of wildness. 

It was very hot when I arrived and the cool breeze felt good but now that the sun is down, there is a colder bite to the air.  Later in the night, it gets plain cold as I crawl deeper into my sleeping bag.  In the morning, my plan is to stop briefly at Pinnacles National Park and get a campsite, before riding past Paicines, Tres Pinos, and then San Benito Street for the annual Hollister Rally.

Bikers on Highway 25 heading towards Pinnacles National Park and Hollister, CA

The ranger at the Pinnacles National Park tells me that all the campsites are full.  There is smoke in the air and she tells me that Highway 25 and 198 are closed due to a large, uncontained fire.  That is my usual route which explains why I saw so many motorcycles and cars taking the slow short cut road called the Los Gatos Creek/Coalinga Road.  I was planning to return home that way but that will change.

The peaceful road from Pinnacles National Park to Hollister is so enjoyable.  There are horses and cows grazing in the fields and wave from a rancher tending cattle on his ATV tells me that I'm home.  There must be a small airport near Tres Pinos because directly above me is a hang-glider making big turns in the sky.  There are now many bikers in the area.  Tres Pinos which is a dot on the map has bikers at every establishment, and there aren't many.  The number of bikers increases as I approach Hollister.  Off to my right is Hazel Hawkins Hospital where our son, Keith was born; now that brings back a flood of memories.

San Benito Street is closed to cars and lined with thousands of motorcycles packed tightly like sardines.  There is every type of motorcycle here and finding a spot to park is a challenge.  I make a few turns off the main drag, find a side street, park my bike, and walk to the center of town.


There is music, barbecues, and all sorts of vendors.  This year I buy a simple t-shirt that catches my attention.  The GEICO booth is handing out free stuff, so I get a pair of sunglasses, chap stick, and a handkerchief.   All useful items when riding a motorcycle.  It is fun to people watch and I suspect that most of the bikers are on a day ride as I do not see any camping gear strapped on their bikes.

Everyone seems to be in good spirits and there is an ample presence of security.

Johnny's is a central point and on the outside wall is a large mural with Marlon Brando and two easy riders from the past.  It is a popular spot and many are getting their picture taken.  

I do the same and then a group of bikers stands in front of the wall for their picture.  They are members of a motorcycle club called the Buffalo MC Soldiers.  The Buffalo Soldiers played an important role in the care of Sequoia National Park in its early years.  These riders proudly display their vests and I like that they chose this way to honor these early American heroes.

Some cool looking bikers in front of Johnny's ~ Buffalo MC Soldiers

There is an Indian dealership on the north end of town that I want to visit.  I did not know it earlier but they are offering free test rides on any of their Indian and Victory motorcycles.  "How is this done," I ask.  "Just provide your driver's license, sign a waiver, and place your helmet on the bike you want to ride."  He continues, "There will be a lead rider in the front and a chaser rider in the back that will take you and four or five others on a five-mile ride."  They are organized and made this a highlight of my trip.  I chose to ride the 2016 Indian Springfield and we rode in a safe, staggered formation.  Half joking, I tell one of the organizers as I pull up, "Sure would be nice to ride this home, thanks, that was fun."  He nods, likely having heard the comment before.  There was absolutely no sales pitch, they offered free water, and the opportunity to ride any other motorcycle as many times as we wanted.  Impressive.

Test riding a 2016 Indian Springfield

In the excitement of riding the Indian motorcycle, I forgot about lunch and it is almost dinner time.  On one of those side streets, I remember seeing a Mexican restaurant so I return and have some Chile Verde and tasty posole. 

It is much cooler now and my decision is to head back to Three Rivers via Highway 152.  There is a large highway marquee ahead - "severe winds over Pacheco Pass."  The wind will be blowing against my back and that will be a relief.  Any biker knows riding into a strong wind is work and a drain on fuel economy.  Even with the wind at my back, I brace myself around turns taking nothing for granted.  Almost as soon as I reach the bottom of the pass, the coolness is replaced by the valley heat.  I stop for some water to cool me down.  There are many bikers on this road as well.  At times, I'm riding alone and then a group of bikers catches up to me and I tag along.  American flags are waving wildly on many of the motorcycles as they pass by.

Again on this fourth of July, my American flag waves on my motorcycle too.  

This ride, for me, is special.  It was only 399.7 miles but I get some quality time, returning to Pinnacles National Park and Hollister to celebrate our Nation's Independence. 

Happy 4th of July America

~ Kids Matter ~

Giving Pain a Voice ~ Kids Matter

Lately, my rides have been in the rain.  Today is no different and I have all of my rain gear on even before I leave the house.  Most, I guess, would simply say "it's raining and I'll ride another day."  But once I commit to a good cause, I try hard to come though.

My good friend Dennis Reneau invited me on this fund raiser bike ride.  It starts at the American Legion on Olive Street in Porterville.  At the time I said I would ride with him, I knew little about the cause but that would change.

It is wet and a bit on the cold side as I leave Three Rivers.  Mentally, I am going through my safety check list.  Go slow, watch the curves, look for rocks that might have come down with the rain, and keep a longer space between vehicles than normal.  Also watch for deer, I finally tell myself.  

Our lake is finally filling up and after four years of drought in California, it is a welcomed site.  Without exaggeration, it was pouring when I left Three Rivers and ten miles down the road, past Lake Kaweah, the rain stops, just like that.  Porterville is about an hours ride and I pull into the Shell gas station to top off my tank and it remove all of my rain gear.  In five minutes, I'll join the American Legion Riders, Chapter 20 on Olive Street.  Dennis had said, "you can't miss it, there will be hundreds of bikes."

I'm not your usual group rider but when there is a cause, I make exceptions.  Immediately I see Dennis and we exchange a big bear hug.  He almost lifts me off the ground.  Those marines are tough.  The American Legion Chapter 20 is sponsoring this event.  Dennis introduces me to some of his friends, and although I am not a veteran, I feel at easy with the group.  These events are well organized, punctual, and full of safety messages.  Today is no different.  There is a final prayer for our safety and kick stands go up.  The roar makes the hair on the back of your head stand up.

"Dennis, I'll follow you" and with those few words the group rides on towards Woodlake.  Although I know where Woodlake is, the route is new to me.  Riding along new roads has always agreed with me.  Most of the time, when I found myself lost, those were some of my best rides.  "Let the wind blow you in the right direction" I tell myself in those lost moments.  I once missed an important fork in the road, and missed Canyon De Chelly by 200 miles.  Loved it. 

Over one hundred bikers ride in a safe, staggered formation.  We are almost at the very end of the group, and for me, a good safe spot.  The bikers ahead take a sweeping curve and the sight is awesome.  Sometimes, the best view from the back of the pack is seeing nearly a hundred bikers in front of you.  Today is no exception. 

The purpose of this ride is the real story.  I think about why the American Legion, Chapter 20 is raising money for this event.  Dennis tells me that all of funds raised go to them.  

I get a cool t-shirt and their mantra stands tall ~ Ride for Awareness.  

The organization is called Optimal Hospice Foundation, Kids Camp.  The brochure tells me that "The loss of a loved one touches each member of the family, including children.  To help young people through their bereavement, Optimal Hospice Foundation created Kids Camp.  This over-night summer camp program is specially designed for young people ages 8 - 16 that have experienced the loss of an loved one in the recent past... This innovative experience is available at no cost to families, thanks to generous support from the community. Camp participants may be referred by school counselors, healthcare providers, family members and other individuals.."

 

The ride is dry and a little over one hundred miles and about that many bikers.  After riding though the countryside, we end up back at the American Legion on Olive Street.  Our donation for this ride includes a hardy lunch.  There is also big raffle of prizes, including a monster TV, donated by Walmart, however that I did not win. 

I do walk away with a wine basket, chocolates, and scented candles.  Denise loves them. 

Another good ride, another good cause.  Kids do matter.

Dennis Reneau and Bob Griego

~ Willow Creek Cemetery ~

“I went to the wilderness to confront the basic of life to be sure that when I died I would not regret living” ~ Henry David Thoreau.

This old cemetery was established in 1877.

It has such a Western sound to its name, a fitting resting place for a good friend.

The historic Willow Creek Cemetery is located a hundred yards off the Airline Highway, Route 25.  

I must have gone by the Willow Creek Road a thousand times and never known the cemetery existed until today.  The cemetery, established in 1877, is about 5 miles south of Paicines, California.

The weather lately has been spring-like and perfect for riding a motorcycle.  But today, the rain clouds have moved back into California, and my rain gear is on me even before I leave the house. 

The ceremonies start at 1 p.m., and the Pinnacles are a good 4 hours from Three Rivers.  

Normally, my ride takes me on scenic Highway 198, past Coalinga, and then north on Highway 25 to the Pinnacles.  I stop for gas at Harris Ranch, and because of the steady rain, decide to take Interstate 5 heading north.  "It will save you some time," I tell him.  Years ago, I left Paicines on a remote country road called Little Panoche Road, which connects to Interstate 5.  Yep, this is the route I'll take.  It will save me 30 minutes, and I must arrive at the cemetery by 1 p.m.

The rain is fierce, and the traffic seems to be going 100 mph despite the downpour.  There ahead of me is a motor home going slower.  I figure it is safer behind a slower vehicle, even if I catch more rain.  A few times, my bike hydroplanes, which is so nerve-wracking.  Finally, the off-ramp for Little Panoche Road is up ahead.  It will take me to Paicines.  The rain is still coming down, but this country road is heaven in comparison to the insane interstate.  The cows are everywhere, eating tall green grass.  I do not see another vehicle on this isolated road.

The rain has stopped.  I'm about two miles from Paicines, and the brief sun will help dry me out.  The Willow Creek Cemetery isn't far, a bit further south, and I'll be there in time.  The easy-going woodland hillsides, cows, and open land agree with me. 

A bit more relaxed, I reminisce.

We both worked early in our careers for the National Park Service at a little place called Pinnacles National Monument.  He was in Maintenance, and I was in Administration, but at a little place like Pinnacles, organizational lines are easily blurred.  Everyone did everything.  Your first job is always important, memory-wise.  But the group of people there becomes lifelong friends. 

When I first met him, I liked him.  

He was a cowboy at heart, a hard worker, an excellent hunter, and loved to barbeque.  

"Bob, have you ever eaten wild boar?" he asked.  "Come by the house and have some."  He lived in a small house, just off San Benito Lateral.  It was a beautiful area, and just a bit further down the road was the Bar SZ Ranch, where hundreds of horses grazed.  His good friend Jim Shields lived nearby on his ranch.  

"I got this pig, just up that canyon," he points with his hand.  Denise and I loved the meal, the setting, and his company.  Later, he would invite me to a cattle branding on John Shields' ranch, a neighbor, and Jim's dad.  He was very good on a horse, and I helped them where I could.

His career with the National Park Service would take him to Everglades National Park where I heard he did a great job.  "The mosquitoes were unreal," he once told me "so I had to look elsewhere for work."  That elsewhere became Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks where we met up again.  Now, he wasn't riding horses much but Harley-Davidson motorcycles.  Eventually, he bought a house in Three Rivers and lived less than 1/2 mile from us.

"Retirement is great, Bob, you're going to love it."  Although we never did ride motorcycles together, he was one of the first to see my new Yamaha Road Star.  He rode his bike to Sturgis one year, and with some help, he pointed me there well.  

Oh yes, a cowboy, a hard worker, a hunter, a great cook, and a biker.  There is one more thing to add, a rock climber.  You'd never know, but he helped our Mountain Climbing Search and Rescue Team at Pinnacles and successfully climbed the Elephant.

That's what I'm thinking about as I approach the Willow Creek Cemetery. 

His daughter Mary welcomes me.  I tell her that your mom and dad took us to dinner in Tres Pinos when we first got to Pinnacles in 1971.  She was about 1 year old at the time.  It is 12:30 p.m., so my decision to take the Panoche Road worked.

Friends, Willow Creek Cemetery.

There are many local people here today, as well as some retired National Park Service employees.  Many wear cowboy hats, boots, looking like they had just come from working in the fields.  

I am impressed with the words spoken, first by his daughter Mary, and then by his younger brother Richard, and then older brother Ken. 

Mary was emotional, but her words came out nonetheless.  "In the final days of his life, he requested two things," she said tearfully.  

"Bury me next to my friend, Jim Shields."

"First, he wanted me to see if he could be buried at the Willow Creek Cemetery.  And second, if permission was granted, he asked to be buried next to his friend, Jim Shields."  

Mary approached the Willow Creek Cemetery Caretaker with his sincere request.  

Approved.  

She then told her dad that his requests had been granted.  "That put a big smile on his face," Mary said. 

The ceremony was simple yet powerful.

Mary continued.  "Once he knew where he would rest," he said, "Have several bottles of my fine whiskey, pour everyone a shot, and have a toast."

With our shots in hand, one cowboy asked if he could make the toast, and his words tearfully faded ... 

"To our good friend Gary Bornholdt"

Gary J. Bornholdt 
July 29, 1942 - May 28, 2015.

Peaceful, Willow Creek Cemetery in the foothills.

My iron horse is approaching the Willow Creek Cemetery.
I stopped to say a silent prayer.

Pinnacles National Park.
When we worked there, it was Pinnacles National Monument.

High Peaks Trail ~ Pinnacles National Park.
Gary hiked these trails frequently.

~ 50th Commemoration of Vietnam ~

“Look deep into Nature, then you will understand everything better." ~ Albert Einstein.

Even Einstein knew, at the speed of light, you could only be in one place at one time.

My bike did not break the sound barrier but it sure came close as I tried to make the opening ceremonies at Fort Irwin, some three hundred miles from my home in Three Rivers.  These were not just any military ceremonies, but the 50th Commemoration of Vietnam. 

After 300 miles, I came up short.  I missed the opening ceremonies by 30 minutes.  Last November, I attended the Veterans Day celebrations in my hometown in Barstow.

That November 11th, I listened to outstanding military speakers.  The Commander from Fort Irwin was impressive.  He ended his speech by saying, "We intend to honor and welcome home our Vietnam Veterans in March next year, so stay tuned."  At the time, I wondered just what he meant, so I made a mental note to later find out.  It had to be important.

It turns out that Fort Irwin was going all out to honor and welcome our Vietnam Veterans.   It's been 50 years since I had been to Fort Irwin while attending John F. Kennedy High School in Barstow.

As I rode onto the base, there were American Flags everywhere.  It was not hard to follow them to the heart of the celebrations.  

There were thousands of bikes all around me.

There were thousands of bikes in the specially designated parking so parking is easy.  There is a professional photographer taking pictures, so I ask him if he could take a picture of me with my cell phone, seconds after arriving at Fort Irwin.  The wind, I felt, was still blowing in my face after 300 miles.  "I did not break the sound barrier getting here but came close," I say as he gets takes the picture.   After he took the picture, he looked at me a bit funny. 

One can only imagine what the keynote speaker had to say about Vietnam.  He was a photojournalist in Vietnam and the author of We Were Soldiers Once.  His name is Joe Galloway.  Perhaps, I'll see him another time.  I once saw him in a video interview and he had a certain way of telling the Vietnam story that made you want to listen.

There are thousands of people here and I do get to hear a few other speakers.  They are dynamic, and their words are full of emotion.  At times, a bit hard to hear but hear I do never-the-less.  One speaker talks about the empty table at the head of the room and he describes in detail why it is empty and how it represents those Vietnam soldiers who did not come back.  A real tear-jerker.

I was there to support my two close high school friends who served in Vietnam and are now deceased ~  *Gene Christiansen and *John Lopez.  They will never be forgotten, the Commander of Fort Irwin saw to that.

My brother Leo was also in Vietnam and he served with the 82nd Airborne but he was not able to attend.  There are other Vietnam Veterans from Barstow, like Robert Esquibel and Mike Ulibarri.  Mike and I were on the John F. Kennedy High School cross-country team.  Mike was one of the best cross-country runners in Southern California.

Robert Griego and Mike Ulibarri, class of 1967 at John F. Kennedy High School.

Just when I thought I would not see anyone I knew among the thousands of people, there was Mike Ulibarri walking towards me.  Seeing someone you have not seen in years, is special.  Mike is iconic and I see that many of the younger soldiers sense that and "thank him" for his service.  They are passing out gifts to the Vietnam Vets and I wait in line with Mike catching up on things.  

Thank you, Mike Ulibarri, for your service.

He did not register in advance and now must go to a second line to register.  There is a young lady with a pen in hand who looks up at Mike.  "What branch of the service were you in?... What years of service?... What company?"  Then her final question, "Did you receive any citations, and if so, what were they."  All this time I'm standing next to Mike and his answers come without effort.  But his last answer surprised me.  He could have been asked "would you like sugar or cream with your coffee" and he casually said "Silver Star."  All this time, she has kept her head pointing to her notepad.  But now, she raises her head and looks directly at Mike.  Then she pauses, and writes on her notepad next to Silver Star, the word (Valor); and I saw her underline the word.  I never knew that about Mike.

Later, I would find out that the Silver Star is the third highest military decoration awarded for gallantry in action against an enemy of the United States. 

Gary Sinise and the Lt. Dan Band.

There is another reason to be here at Fort Irwin.  Gary Sinise and the Lt. Dan Band are scheduled to perform at 2pm.  I was not going to miss this.  The young soldier next to me asks, "How did you hear about this event?"  He heard my story about Veterans Day in Barstow and thanked me.  I did not have any words for him, so I shook and nodded my head.  "Why are you here?" I ask.  "Gary Sinise, he rocks."

The music is very good and the crowd loves him.  "Ok, how many of you have seen Forrest Gump?" Sinise asks the crowd.  Nothing but cheers.  "Ok, how many of you have seen Forrest Gump, more than once?"  More thunderous applause.  "How about more than three times," and the crowd responds in kind.  Their music is very good but I listen closely to the words he speaks.

He is a true blue American who is here to honor and thank all the veterans, especially, as he said, the Vietnam Veterans.  He plays to the audience and they love him.  Finally, he walks into the crowd and people are taking pictures like crazy.  Mostly, selfies.

He ends his performance, by thanking the Vietnam Veterans..."...thank you, stand tall, we love you."  I was so impressed with him.  I love him as an actor, but today, I love him for being an outstanding ambassador for the Vietnam Veterans.

The Company Commander was true to his words that November 11th day at the Barstow Cemetery... "We intend to honor and welcome home our Vietnam Veterans in March next year, so stay tuned."

Three hundred miles back, but this time, I camped near Lake Isabella Lake to shorten my trip, and over my campfire, reflect on the day.

It was perhaps my best 600 miles, such a small price in exchange for remembering and honoring my two high school friends, *Gene Christiansen and *John Lopez who both rode Yamaha 305cc's in our younger days.

We were fondly called the infamous, Yamaha Gang.

The Infamous Yamaha Gang 1967 ~ Robert Griego, Gene Christiansen, John Lopez.

Mike Ulibarri on the Wall That Heals.

The Wall That Heals - Leo Griego, Gene Christiansen, John Lopez, Mike Ulibarri, Robert Esquibel.

My brother, Leo served in the 82nd Airborne.

A special tribute to *Gene Christensen in Barstow, CA.

~ 8th Annual John Paul Magao Motorcycle Ride ~

"When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe" ~ John Muir

Bikers ride in the 8th Annual John Paul Magao Motorcycle Ride

Just last week the sun was out and Denise and I were were on a bike ride on the Dry Creek Road taking pictures of the poppies.

Today, the rain is back and I am on another bike ride.  A few years ago my friend Dennis Reneau invited me to ride for a special cause.  He said it was called the Annual John Magao Motorcycle Ride.  Its purpose was to honor a Redwood grad who lost his life in a motorcycle accident and to raise scholarships funds for Redwood High School and College of the Sequoias students in Visalia, California [ www.johnmagaoscholarship.org ]. 

I did not know John Paul but this is now my second Annual John Paul Magao Motorcycle Ride in his honor, and to support his family and friends.  Their love and pride is evident with his family. 

The local paper, Times-Delta, carried his story:  "...Money raised goes to COS students pursuing a career in pharmacy or medicine, said James Phillip Wilfong...The focus on a profession in medicine reflects John's original professional focus...Instead of leaving to pursue his dream of going to University of Pacific School of Pharmacy in Stockton, he instead chose to stay in Visalia with this mother while his stepfather was deployed to Iraq...we decided to start this nonprofit in honor of what he really enjoyed, and in what he loved...we wanted to continue to give that opportunity to others since he wasn't able to make it..."

I've heard James Phillip Wilfong speak before and I again listen to his sincere words before this ride.   He thanks us for coming out in support of his son and the purpose of this Annual memorial ride.  He reminds of us all about safety on the road, especially with the wet roads.  His words are simple and true to his purpose. 

He ends by inviting us to his house for lunch at the end of the ride. 

In terms of distance, this is a short ride, just under 100 miles.  But I feel the bond of the other riders who are here to support, honor, and remember a fellow biker.  Our ride takes us on the back roads towards Rocky Hill, out past Woodlake, and some parts of northern Visalia that are new to me.

The rain has reduced the number of bikers today but not the enthusiasm on this, the 8th Annual John Paul Magao Motorcycle Ride. 

As always, we ride in a safe staggered formation.  

I rode behind this biker [Bladimir], who's daughter took these "amazing" pictures of our ride ~ thanks!

The ride leaving Plaza Park 

Riders ride in a safe, staggered formation

Our ride touches the wildflowers

The road bends in front of this biker

Riding up towards Rocky Hill, Sequoia National Park in the distance ~ We Honor John Paul Magao ~