I rode my motorcycle home from San Mateo this evening. I didn't die, not even once! And I had so much fun I went out again after dark. That ended up a little stressful because I was lost on the "goat roads" (twisty narrows) up in the hills and couldn't find my way out; I eventually backtracked back out the way I came in. But I had fun anyway.

It's difficult to describe the behavior of a motorcycle: exactly how fast it will go and how sharp and fast it can turn. And I have a relatively low-power bike. I have some idea now of the sense of mischief and adventure that leads people to want bigger bikes; and how easy it could be to let all that power outrun your ability to manage it. All good things to know.

There's an astonishing story of inbreeding related to the Mormon polygamist they picked up in Las Vegas on Tuesday. Turns out they mostly live in Hildale, UT and Colorado City, AZ, which Kelly and I blew through on the way home, on the way to Hurricane, UT.