By all accounts, I should really hate Tehachapi. I’ve come through a few times and been way too warm; I’ve come through and been way too cold. Last time we were here, Peter ran out of gas. Today I have agonizing shoulder pain. Once I sat in the Chevron parking lot trying to force down a couple of saltines and Gatorade through stomach cramps.
But the truth is, I’ve always liked Tehachapi. I guess repression is really the key to successful motorcycle trips.