Hi everyone, Through some friends who know I am insatiable, I was invited to go on a Sexcation (sex vacation) in Southeast Asia. I leave this morning and it’s a long trip for me, but I’m really excited! Can probably message a little through Tuesday, but then after that, the place I’m going has a strict privacy policy, so mobile phones and laptops and not allowed except at designated times and will be censored. So I’ll likely be silent for most of the next two weeks…so excited!
On my way back…longest leg of the journey from Singapore to London. Should be home by 8:00 this evening. Won’t give much detail on this trip publicly, but I would talk mere freely on private message.
Check out my blog and I give more detail…my little vacation has put me out of action for what will likely be 5 full weeks.
Oh…piecing together your blogs and posts, that’s where you exceeded your limit and got your injuries?
One of my most enjoyable was probably the shortest and simplest. Not even a vacation really. A couple we knew had a Victory. My wife and I had a Softail Fat Boy. We'd load the saddle bags with a few essentials and roll to the Edmonds Ferry. That carried us to the Peninsula. Through Port Ludlow and on to US 101. Even though the loop could be done in a day (if you had an iron butt) we always scheduled three. We'd parallel the Strait until we got to Port Angeles, always our first night's motel stop. From there we could ride up to Hurricane Ridge or Sol Duc Hot Springs. If the crowds were thin we could always find a place for al fresco fucking. Then back to PA for a meal and more sex in our motel. The next day it was back on 101. Now, beyond PA, the world gets plumb quiet. Little traffic (usually) and even fewer people. The scent of cedar and pine fill the air. On this part of our ride, we'd find a logging road (thanks Weyerhauser!) and head up that (bikes could easily get around the gates) until we found a nice place. We'd all make love surrounded by dense forest. Continuing on, we always had to stop at a teeny tiny diner in the teeny tiny hamlet of Sappho. The woman there made the best pies we had ever tasted. Go figure. We'd buy four or six and carefully pack 'em in the Victory's trunk. On to Forks (yes, that Forks, if you're a Twilight fan) then south. When 101 began to run right on the coast, we'd look for beach access, because sex on a beach with the Pacific waves crashing nearby is unforgettable. Our last stop would be in Aberdeen, on Gray's Harbor. Another motel, more sex! The last day wasn't all that much fun, but it was part of the package. East to I-5, then north to home. (I have never seen a time when traffic in Tacoma didn't utterly suck.) A simple trip, but it gave me some great memories.
