Yesterday a group of us biked from our hotel by the highway to the venue, a little outdoor amphitheater in a former gold rush town that I heard was restored for a movie and then later became a tourist attraction as a result of its new "period" look.
We passed a group of llama's, pear, and peach orchards.
Today we are in Chico, a university town with a reputation as a party town; it is parents’ weekend. Three of the bikes mysteriously have flats; of those, two have them for no apparent reason. Tracy's new bike and the Mongoose that Paul rode both had flats when I opened up the bus bay, but I couldn't find any leaks. Hmmm. Mauro's has a huge puncture.
