An easy 240 miles seperate us from the San Francisco area which, given our circumstances, is 4 stops for battery charging. We depart from Reno nice and early and it’s not long before we cross the state line. We’ve regretfully flown passed other ‘Welcome To ____’ signs on this trip but we all agreed that the California one would be the most important.
Once in California, the ride down Route 80 was gorgeous. This thick twisted highway is molded throughout the mountainous region with views of scattered bodies of water living at the bottom of huge drop offs. The sun is out, the weather is cool, we made it to Cali; life is good.
First pit stop was at a gas station where they ran an extension cable outside to the ice machine. Having had no luck asking for permission from gas station employees the past few days I decide asking forgiveness would work out better so I steal power from that cable to charge the battery. 
The nice thing about these forced stops is the chance to call home and check in more often than when things had been running smoothly so I take advantage of just that. After 20-30 minutes and fresh gas we mount our beasts and hit the road.
Working our way to the Sacremento area I quickly learn that all that great hospitality I’ve gotten along the way quickly disappears in the metro areas. Starbucks, Denny’s, a Motel 6 and a small recreational playground all deny me electricity. Pep boys ends up catering to our needs which works out great as I decided to buy a gauge to display voltage so I can monitor what the battery is doing.
We added the Napa Valley area to our last stretch for a more scenic ride before getting into San Fran which proved worth it. Layered hills and spread out farmlands provides a beautiful backdrop as we near another charge up. I’m starting to get nervous as the options to stop are scarce; am I going to have to stop at a residential home? Luckily we find a restaurant that is kind enough to help.
We have one more stretch to make it to our destination for the night so we are back at it. I’m watching my volt gauge needle drop little by little with every mile. Seems to be dropping faster than before. All this draining and fast charging can’t be good for these batteries so I don’t know if we can keep this up. Low and behold, we can’t. The bike dies on 101, about 40 mins out from our resting place for the night. By now our group morale is directly correlated to the batteries performance as since its been drained we are also on our last bits of patience. Here come the ratchet straps again.
I’m sure there is a World War II joke in here somewhere about the Japanese and Germans being allies but our sense of humor is long gone. We get off on the next exit and scour a small shopping complex for power. The pizzeria works with us but now that charger isn’t turning on. Oh joy. 
A gentleman named Stan comes over and tells us there is a Batteries Plus near by so I jet over there on Gomes’ bike as they are closing in 15 mins. Chris is the gentleman running the place and I can’t thank him enough. It was closing time and he stayed with me to figure out what battery I could use that was in stock given my requirements. The stock battery for my bike was the size of a construction workers lunch box and given the modifications that have been made it would be impossible for me to lug that around. We research online and in catalogs for a crash course in motorcycle batteries so I can make a decision. All my options are bigger than what I have now so I settle on my smallest best bet and ask Chris if he has any extra nuts and bolts along with cables so I can try and relocate the new battery. The man pulls out tools and extra cables and we literally make the cabling to my liking. I find myself once again losing track of the number of thanks you’s I’ve had to throw at someone. He mentioned that he had to explain to the other employee there that if he doesn’t help anyone than who’s going to help him when needed. It seems to encompass Chris’ persona perfectly.
Back at my bike I have the luxury of strapping the new battery just above my family jewels; this will be an interesting ride. With my fingers crossed we set off to Gomes’ buddy’s house just south of San Fran. The moon is full and when we are closer to the Golden Gate Bridge we can see it illuminating the bay as if the water was a sheet of glass. Worrying more about my bike I beat myself up for not having the chance to pull off and snap a photo of the scene that unfolded before us. The memory will hopefully live on in my mind.