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Below:  Another 57 miles on Highway 25.  Wonderful!  That's what we came here for!  We don't need no stinking lunch!  Highway 25 is every sportbikers dream.  But not just ANY sportbiker, but sportbikers with lots and lots of power.  I don't know of any other road anywhere where one can explore the limitations of even the most powerful machines.  Sweepers are here.  Smooth, 25 mph corners are here.  Long, and I do mean LOOooong straightaways with visibility stretching to the horizon awaits.  Throttle to the stops with no worries of other traffic and the long arm of the law.  Well, just make sure you check the straightaways for Fuzz before going WOT.  I couldn't get  into a full tuck on my Firebolt thanks to my tankbag.  I saw an indicated 115 mph on many occassions.  It felt very fast to me.  And that's the beauty of these simple machines.  You don't need big speeds to fill your need for speed.
    
Central Coast 2007 Page 8                                                                                                   Day 2
     I actually felt a bit of relief when Highway 25 ended in the not-so-quiet town of Hollister, CA.  By then, hunger had struck me as well.  I could only imagine how Asphalt_Carver felt having had no breakfast!  We found an out of the way Mexican restaurant with really cute waitresses.  Our hostess was especially cute.  Damn!  I didn't know they bred Mexican girls this good over here!  The food was so-so.  It tasted good enough but not the best.  We are Mexican food lovers and we know good when we taste it.  But the eye candy was very good and that made up for it.  Plus, just being able to sit on a REAL chair in a warm establishment was a plus.
     After lunch, we found a Motorcycle Accessory shop where AS bought his REAL Winter gloves.  I think the rest of the ride he put that pussy-of-a-all-season gloves away for good.  We once again got good, accurate directions from the establishment's employees on how to get to the 101 back south.  Once again AS asked the enternal question:  "How far is San Simeon from Hollister?"  75 miles was my answer.  I had no clue whether that was true or not.  We would soon find out.
     About 20 miles south on the 101, the pitter-patter of rain drops began hitting our visors.  It was light drops of rain so we held out and kept on going.  After another 10 miles, the drops persisted and even got thicker.  The smell of fresh rain permeated the air.  Okay.  Time to get off the freeway and put on our rain covers.  Probably a good idea to get off the freeway too as we had just passed a CHP cruiser going in the opposite direction while our speed was up there in the mid-80's.  CHP Cruisers are known for whipping a quick U-turn in the dirt embankment seperating northbound and southbound traffic on the 101 to chase down speeders.  That's mostly what the CHP does out there--nail speeders.  It's like shooting fish in a barrel.  Hell!  That's like throwing marijuana all around, then waiting to see who picks it up and smokes it.  The 101 is  wide open out there.  85-90 mph feels oh-so right.  The speed limit is 70 mph.  That feels like you're crawling along!  It's the perfect revenue generating area.

Below:  We stopped off the side of the road somewhere away from the 101 to put on our rain gear.  It doesn't look it yet, but light rain was beginning to drop down on us.
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