With my prayers and best wishes my son left on the bus yesterday, headed to extreme Northern California to begin an adventure with the California Conservation Corps in Fortuna. I and a few friends at work are a bit envious, wishing we had known about such a possibility at a younger and more carefree age. Here’s to hoping that it can lead to great opportunities for Christopher. He called this morning to say it was cold, but it was only about 4° cooler than home…but I guess you find out how cold the morning can be when you’re out of bed before the sun!

It’s about time. Clearly, I’m no fan of rushing into things with two much plenty of research. And I would expect that people who know me, when asked for a description, might also call me a late bloomer. In the mail this week my new California driver’s license arrived with a class “M1” endorsement.

Chalk it up to either of the above personality traits but don’t call it a mid-life crisis — if I live to 100-plus years old, right now I’m barely touching middle age. While my new endorsement that means I can ride a motorcycle of any size, there is no Ducati in my future. I view a motorcycle as more of an “enjoy the scenery” mode of transport.

I urge anyone considering obtaining a motorcycle license to do as I did: take the Motorcycle Safety Foundation class. In some states, completion of this class and the subsequent skills evaluation exempts one from the riding portion of the department of motor vehicles’ test. The exception is a bonus to the opportunity to become better acquainted with riding and learn some basic skills — particularly those related to accident avoidance.

I still had to go to the DMV to complete application form DL 44, give a thumb print, get a new picture taken (Note to self: Dress better and comb hair next time.), pay $27, pass a vision test, and pass a traffic laws and signs test. The test, however, was composed of the complete motorcycle traffic law and signs test as well as half of the regular driving law and signs. The bonus was that passing both tests earned me another four years on my license.

Can Santa fit a 2000 Honda Nighthawk 750 down the chimney?

Seems that “rock bottom” came for rocker Eric Clapton while he was fly fishing. (He’s an avid fly fisherman.) In his new book he writes of just how fly fishing finally led a full realization of how alcohol was destroying his life.

Early in the morning a few days later, wearing my new thermal underwear, I crept out of the house to go fishing on the River Wey. I had some new equipment, including two rods.

On the opposite bank were a couple of professional fishermen, with a tent and everything beautifully laid out. They were watching me. I was drunk, and I had just about managed to get my gear set up when I lost my balance and fell onto one of the new rods, breaking it clean off at the handle. I saw the fishermen look away in embarrassment.

That was it for me. The last vestige of my self-respect had been ripped away. Being a good fisherman was the one place where I still had some self-esteem. I called Roger and told him: “You’re right. I’m in trouble. I need help.”

This comes from the TimesOnline.

One day, I may become one of those gray-haired (almost there) and stylishly-dressed fly fisherman you see casting wonderful loops on the banks of your local river. Until then, I’ll settle for fostering those new to the sport.

One late September evening my assistance was requested at the club’s novice fly fishing class. Not quite the old hand at this fly fishing stuff and definitely not a master caster, I was to run the “hooking and landing” station during casting lessons. In exchange I would be rewarded with a sandwich lunch.

So, last Saturday I headed to Walnut Creek and in short order was deemed “The Hooking and Landing Instructor.” My task was simple. Using a remote-controlled truck, to which fly line was attached, I was to give our prospective fly fishers a taste of landing a fish. To understand that landing a fish on a fly rod is different, one has to appreciate that a fly reel is mainly there to (1) hold your line and (2) provide a bit of drag when a fish runs. To play and land a fish one has to strip line — that is pull it with your hand and let it pile up in front of you (and hopefully not trip on it).

Sure, I landed an obnoxious number of fish so far this season — 150+ brook, rainbow and brown trout — but my experience is limited to a handful of rives and streams and a single lake. So it was odd to have these class attendees look upon me a modicum respect even though my fly fishing days began barely six months ago.

But helping out with this class taught me how much I’ve learnt this far, and how much I have to learn. There is such a thing as an almost-free lunch.

It was one of the easiest drives over the Carquinez Strait; this morning we were part of a 300-car “First Drive” motorcade on the new north-bound span of the Benicia-Martinez Bridge. Though the morning greeted us with gray overcast, but the sun was shining by the time we were waved by CHP and local police officers through the streets of Martinez, winding through the outskirts of town and past oil refiners. Vehicles ranging from CHP motorcycle escorts (as well as a two white CHP Camaros) to a few vintage cars — some with rumble seats — christened the new George Miller Jr. Bridge. (The late George Miller Jr. served in the California State Assembly from 1947 to 1948, and in the state Senate from 1949 to 1969). And we were part of it. Pretty cool. Something to tell the grandkids…

Pictures here: Benicia Bridge Photo Album
Read More: First cars drive over new Benicia Bridge
See More: New Benicia - Martinez Bridge Now Opened (CBS5.com)