"If there ever was a place to take the scoot out for a spin, this would be it," I said to Phil as we crested the hill on a forgotten road leading from the 101 to the coast in Northern California. Obscured by a thin layer of fog on the shoreline, the ocean stretched out into the distance.
"Sure is," Phil responded. "This place is gorgeous, I've never seen anything like it."
"I told you man, this place will blow your mind."
"Fuck, you weren't lying."
"I try not to... Want to pull out the scooter? It only gets better from here."
Pulling off onto the small shoulder, I left the Syncro in second and coasted to a stop. Hopping out of the driver's seat I circled back to the sliding door and wrestled my recently acquired Yamaha Jog from its resting place between the bench seat and a cabinet. Weighing just 85 pounds, I had the Scooter on the ground in no time. Stomping on the kick-starter, the jog's 49cc engine sprang to life, releasing a cloud of blueish smoke.
"See you at the bottom of the hill," I said handing Phil the helmet.
"How far is that?"
"Fifteen maybe, twenty miles."
"See you there."
Here are some more links, South with Phil (Facebook).