San Diego. One of my several homelands. My mom came here when I was three and we left when I was seven. Delightful years once I was six and roaming on my own with a bicycle and Balboa Park three blocks away. The canyons and park were my wild kingdoms to explore and conquer. The zoo and museums were my familiar neighborhood. On my return sixty years hence I find the museums to be the only remains. Bits of the Zoo survive, but not much more than some reptile cages and pitiful big cat enclosures.
I near departure for a tour of the West. All winter I've been scooting around so Cal and AZ while I worked through some medical details at the VA and got the truck motor rebuilt in Tucson while I attended an ARAMCO Brat reunion there. Meanwhile in San Diego I was having the wr250r motorcycle prepped as an adventure tourer. All is ready and I just have to pack up and go.