A day at the races

The sea of motorcycles that covered the earth that day had a fantastic exhilarating affect on my inner blood flow towards my brain and the muscles that pulled my lips towards my ears.

We parked my Katana 750 alongside some serious 1400cc Kawasaki monster, and headed towards the track. The sound of motors running at high rpm’s was speeding from one ear to another. What is it about these two wheelers hitting the curve, going sideways, knees scraping the earth that is so fascinating to so many people?
The Monterey peninsula, beautiful land, and some great curvy roads along highway 1 that draws bikers from all over the world to watch the grand Prix. This is the Formula 1 of the motorcycles” told me Carl earlier this weeks as he realized I had no idea about all this, even though I ride a bike as a main means of transportation.
Carl owns his own sporty yellow Italian two-wheeler, unlike my “rice cooker” as Fi would call it.
Jen and I drove out through the splendid curves of Highway 1 Saturday morning. That’s after Jen swore never to be on the bike with me unless it were in a foreign country.
So thanks Jen for the trust, and sorry for the scary moments.
Along the drive riders greet each other with a left hand wave (the right has to keep accelerating J). The hand goes down and by the side of the bike (less wind) either in a peace sign or as if to give a low five. It’s a great feel to be able to wave and receive hellos from people I have no idea who they are. Not only do I not know them, but also I can’t even see their faces. Are they young, old, Asian, nerdy, beautiful, almost hard to know if it’s a male or female.
After we got our fix of super sound and super speed, of crowd and a feel of a big fair, we drove down to quiet and quaint Carmel for Sushi Heaven. A little Japanese place that looks and feels like a local “Mama sun” in Kyusho (the south Island of Japan), a place I would go eat where the main woman behind the counter is like a mom to many needy customers.
I had to have a spicy tuna roll for Zohar’s sake, as that is all he would order if he were there by me.
It is really refreshing to eat out after being used to getting 3 meals a day at Esalen. Meals that I can count on being served at the same time and place every day, rich with options, including a huge salad bar, always an option for plain brown rice, raw veggies, and the surprise of the main dish the Chef has made for the day.
Back to the land of plenty where the kitchen gets its vegetables from the garden just a little stroll away, where my commute is a two-minute ride or a thirty-minute walk, I smile at the contrast of the races compared with the hot tubs.