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At the end of the PCH I find myself in LA freeway traffic at rush hour, a seven lane madhouse. At least the car-pool lane is open to motorcycles. With lane-splitting, this gives 13 options for motorcycles. I am entertained by the ride, but wouldn't care to do it on a regular basis. I continue through the desert to Barstow, which is in triple digits, giving me my first taste of the Mohave. Not much is open, but DiNapoli's Firehouse makes a pretty decent pizza, with a tribute wall to police and fire crews, and Brooklyn.

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