189 It never rains in Southern California???

On our route to Temecula, we finally
took some time to get a picture.  Life size
pretty cool.

     Except this year, Lynda claims we brought it with us.  Rain and cooler weather hit the Southwest this year.  I'm not sure if we can lay claim to ending the drought in California.   however here are the facts, we arrived,  the rains came to the valleys, snow hit the mountains, the lakes and reservoirs are filling up, the aqueducts are flowing with fresh water.   Need I say more?   Coming from Minnesota where water is plentiful I have been intrigued how the area copes with infrequent rainfall.  While in Indio last year we were told that the water that nourished the large date groves was from the Colorado river.   Seemed impossible to me.  And now within a couple of miles of our tiny base camp is Diamond Valley lake formed by damming up the ends between two mountains is supposedly filled from a pipe filled with the same river.  Seems impossible. 
    Evidently there is a "Law of the River". Which sets rules for the amount of water each state can actually consume.  As of last year 60% of California's water supply came from the river. Using 20% more than they were entitled to.  Last year on our trip we had seen news coverage of fire departments rationing out drinking water to residents, seems impossible when Minnesota boasts over ten thousand lakes.  As far fetched as it seems to me the delivery system was originated in the early nineteen hundreds to procure water for the growing population of Los Angeles and the neighboring communities.   The water originates from the Colorado river at Lake Havasu in Arizona with several lift pumps it is raised to over 1800 feet above sea level flowing thru pipes, tunnels, mountains and open aqueducts to Lake Mathews in Riverside county California.   From there distribution lines disperses it to Southern California residents.  It is hard to imagine the planning and cooperation the system required. 
    Fine, you are welcome, glad we could help.   Using our heated gear we were still able to get some quality riding in between rainy days. 

The Stars!

     January 13 Lynda contacted us that a change in the scheduled activity for the evening.   One of her friends was performing at a local winery with a Latin dance club.  Unfortunately our landlords delayed their departure to long and we missed their friends performance.  The  winery parking lot was full, evidently a popular event.   A live Latin band provided the music and we danced and listened until the drizzle increased in intensity forced us away from the open air venue.

     Saturday 14th. Topless tasters?  The name of the convertible club they belong to.  Get it?  No top on their car, we were invited since our trikes has no top also.  And they do wine tasting.  However one of the ladies in the group (a smart Alec obviously) suggested that the "topless" was because the men had thinning or missing hair.  Not very kind in my opinion.    Nice cars Mark and Lisa showed up in their Porsche convertible, Gabe and Eva the Hungarians arrived in a Mercedes sports car and since we rode with Sterling and Lynda our steed was a Nissan sedan.
 Meeting at a Starbucks in Temecula we traveled down interstate #15 to the Belle Marie winery.  Nick from the winery spent a lot of time helping us with wine information and also places we should ride.
  

Lots of good information from Nick

      From there the caravan avoided the interstate and wandered along the scenic side roads to the Firehouse BBQ in Fallbrook,  from the back seat we enjoyed the view and then as we passed thru Vista California Sterling mentioned he thought it was the best place to live in California and would like to retire there.   Good climate and riding roads, I made a mental note to check it out.  We finished out the day playing Canasta and enjoying chocolate cake in honor of Lynda's birthday month. 

Claudine and Dominique,
with their grandchildren.

     Sunday a breakfast 
invitation from Anthony and Juliette to join them and her parents at the "Hangar One" café at the Hemet airport.  They were returning home for the summer back to the Dominican republic.  The conversation was laborious due to their heavy accent and background noise in the bustling café.  They were a joy to be around and at one point we were able to communicate how long we had been married.  He mentioned he and his wife were married in 1966, almost immediately he realized his mustang car was a 1966 and then in broken English he said they were both very comfortable.  His wife and Mustang that is.   I still smile when I think of that comment and the way he punctuated his sentences using mime techniques to tell his stories.  I wish I could spend more time with them.  
     Sometimes it is worth your time to visit the bathrooms on your trips.  You never know the humor that may be hidden there.   The hangar was no exception.   One wall hanging advertised that you could purchase plans for two dollars from coincidently a Mr White (I'm sure no relation to our landlords.) to build an airplane using a motorcycle engine. Another one above the urinal had a more urgent message.  Notice:  Old PT-22 pilots with short stacks and low manifold pressure please taxi in a little closer.  Certainly useful information for all of us. 
     After breakfast we headed out to explore some more.  A few miles away we stopped at the Winchester Arena one of the suggestions from our biker freind at Hells Kitchen.   As we drove down the lane beside the rodeo arena we were wondering if it was open today.  We had come this far we might as well check it out.  A single motorcycle and a couple of cars and two people sitting on the patio were the only signs of life.  Dismounting and heading up the side walk a voice rang out across the distance. "Its the Minnesota trikers"  now this is scary, turns out it was Nick evidently following his own suggestions.   It seems the bar had burned to the ground and was in the process of rebuilding.   The owner extended an invitation to attend a party they were having to watch President Trumps inauguration on Friday.  Not to popular an event in the area.   Might be interesting.


     Our next stop was a weekly Mexican flea market on the way to Temecula.  A couple of square blocks filled with vendors of every description.  You could purchase every thing from a parakeet to a taco, not at the same booth of course, that just wouldn't be right. 

Ruthie seemed interested in the clothes and jewelry.  I just wandered taking in the variety, spending a little time at the tools, new and used. 

       It had been a very busy week, the better part of the day had expired and returning back to our tiny home seemed prudent.  There is always tomorrow.