Not All Ducks Quack

Redding is an not an interesting city and that is only if I  am being really generous and polite. The only point of interest is the Sundial Bridge-which is quite awesome. Unfortunately we did not get to see it this trip. We did see the back of Redding before the sun woke up because George had been up since 4:00 checking his mini Ipad to see if he left an out of the office message. So, after that sleeping seemed redundant. We froze our way through the beautiful mountains, and the truly wide open spaces. We had a yummy breakfast in Weed, a tiny town that has capitalized on its name. George's dad lived there until his dad passed away when he was twelve. You can buy just about anything in Weed that celebrates pot.
The ride was lovely. I thought of so many ideas I wanted to write about. How I used to dream about singing, and how I realized today that the world sings to me and I often find myself embraced by the colors, rhythms, and sounds.  That is part of the magic of traveling on a motorcycle. You feel everything.
We arrived in Eugene and set off on a walk to see if George could rediscover his years as a Duck. He was able to locate his dorm and the library, which to my astonishment he said he used. (George's years as a Duck played a lot like the movie Dazed and Confused.) Beautiful campus, lots of work being done for future Ducklings, and the weather is fabulous. The reason George left after two years was the constant rain and fog. It's hard to imagine as it is so lovely now.

Tomorrow we are going to visit with a friend of George's and then head to Anacortes.