Two Hundred Miles in the California Sun

We took advantage of a hole in the fog over on the coast at Fort Bragg last week and made a 200 mile circle from our camp in Middle Creek campground above Clear Lake in the Mendocino National Forest.

*Elk Mountain Road north of Upper Lake, California*

We'd found the camp on the Mendocino forest website to lick our wounds from the beating we took with the broken truck back in Lincoln...

The first leg of the run took us north from where Hwy 20 hits Hwy 101 just a couple miles north of Calpella. Then it was rumble up 101 through Willits to Leggett. That's a nice and easy run with plenty of sweepers to keep life interesting... and warm you up for the unknown that lays ahead.

Our first stop was right there as we turned  off U.S. 101 onto California 1. I mean... you Can't ride PAST the drive through tree... Right? ;)

The tables on the edge of the meadow behind the gift shop made for a pretty fine lunch break spot. We sat in the sun eating our crackers, cheese and summer sausage... checking out the nice rides that were passing through as we ate...

... and then captured a portrait of one of the croakers hiding in the shallows of the lake that shares the meadow.

Hwy 1 is a narrow, twisting asphalt ribbon that tests a man's patience. Especially when the urge to scrape the pegs is strong... and you've got a gal sitting on the pillion. ;)

*California 1 above Fort Bragg*

Short straights dump into tight switchbacks on the roads that wind through the coastal range. It's often that you find them tighten up halfway through. I misjudged one later in the day after we'd turned back east onto  Hwy 20 south of Fort Bragg going toward Willits...

After cranking the bike around several dozen 15 and 20 mile bends it started to feeling pretty routine...

...until I caught one that was apparently a bit off camber... so that I ran out of lean at the same speed I'd run cleanly through all the others...

Herself on the back seat reeeeallly don't like the sound of scraping pegs and pipes... as the bruises on my back attest.

... and I'll admit... this time... when the bike wobbled a touch as the weight came off that back tire a mite... it kinda got my attention. :) Good thing I tend to ride within' my ability to "cope" ... another couple of miles an hour and she'd have been a whole lot more upset with me...

All the roads that branch out from Hwy 101, such as California 1 and Hwy 20, 128 and the myriad of other Ribbons of Asphalt up and down the coast could keep a biker exploring all summer... for more than a few summers...

Just keep it cool. Rock fall, branches off the overhanging trees, tightening radius turns and broken pavement aren't uncommon finds along the PCH. Keep it easy and the ride will be one of the best you'll ever make. 

I keep seeking out ever more tantalizing tunnels through the trees...

They tease me on as much as a far distant horizon fading away in the haze of miles...

Grab Your Handles and Ride
Brian

Lots of California on My Mind

Been making a lot of miles along U.S. 395 in the Eastern Sierras.

Took one that hooked around the south end of the range to visit a sick buddy over to Turlock; Which included that sweet ride through the Kern River Canyon.

A few days back we made a ride over the June Lake loop, another sweet if too short loop that made up for the too few miles with an excellent cafe at Silver lake.

*Along CA 158 near June Lake*

The day after that we made a ride up SW of Mammoth Lakes to  Lakes Mary and Mamie

 I couldn't complain about the view for a light pic nic "lunch" along the way...or the views farther along the way...

And when you get back to camp from day rides... just in time for an easy walk with the dogs... just at sunset...

... it would be a pretty pitiful rider that complained.

Then Monday morning we climbed on the scooter and rode CA 120 up over Tioga Pass that climbs into Yosemite from the east.

After having wandered all across the west for the past 40 years plus... Tioga Road was one I'd never timed my travels here to roll on. Mostly I was too late in the fall or too early in the spring and it was closed up for the winter.

The best thing 'bout riding there this time of year is that the traffic is so light. It's heavier down in Yosemite Valley itself, but still light compared to the heavy mid summer season. We almost never got caught behind cars or RV's... just that sweet ribbon of highway in front of us...

There was a bit of snow hangin' on up at 9300 feet or so... but it wasn't on the asphalt so just roll on through. ;)

As soon as we started down the west side the snow thinned out... and the temp climbed until it was up into the 80's I believe in the valley...

But when you have two wheels and roads like these... all you have to do to keep cool... is keep rollin'.

We took a short break at the Ahwahnee Hotel while the back seat did some shopping...

As soon as she was done we turned the bikes for home... rode back through the tunnels...

... and learned the road in the opposite direction... which is pretty cool, 'cause they seem to have almost a whole different look t'other way! ;)

We climbed back over Tuolumne Meadows and dropped back down that steep eastern grade... just ahead of a tailgaiter in a mid sized motorhome... makes ya keep an eye on a mirror for sure! ;)

... To make it back to camp just in time for supper! ;)

The days are getting longer... The rides area getting finer... and a few thousand miles of highway are calling to me.

Grab Your Handles and Ride
Brian

720 miles from Lone Pine to Turlock and back...

It's Those Last Minute Decisions That Can Turn a Day...

I've a good friend, and a rider that came down bad sick over in Turlock. For those who don't live in California that's just across the mountains that contain Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks from our camp near Lone Pine...

Only, there's no road across those mountains, so you've got to ride down and around one end or the other. It so happens that our camp is closer to the southern end.

Now, the smartphone said it was faster to ride clear down to Bakersfield, catch 99 there and turn back north. When I climbed on the bike that's the way I was planning to go. But, pretty much as always, when I got to that part of the road where the choice had to be made turn off 395 onto 14 to take the "Fast" road... or turn west toward Lake Isabella on the "slow" road...

... I couldn't resist that lil' demon on my shoulder... and the bike leaned west.

Ok... I've rode that road before and it wasn't that slow... so it's no big deal... only... you get to Lake Isabella and there's another choice... stay on 178 and roll into the Kern River canyon... or... cut a bit NW onto 155 through the southern tip of those mountains I'm goin' around...

Uh... Yeah... I turned off the "Slow" road... onto the... OMG, liver quivering, double rectified, jiggly quivers inducing two lanes of laid back on itself, tormented bent asphalt that is 155 as it rolls between Wofford Heights and Glennville. To say it's the worst bit of badly sanded twisties I've ever ridden on the spring time would be a fairly accurate statement...

WHooEE! You come down a short grade at 40 into a 15 mph hairpin that has two 8" wide tracks through the sand... accelerate back up the grade on the other side into a tight right hander, trying hard to stay in that narrow strip of clear pavement...

When you misjudge your speed a bit and start drifting out of the clear track you feel both ends starting to drift... Uh Huh... your attention is juuuuuuust a bit focused!

... swing back around a tight left hander and there, slowly crossing your "Clear" bit of pavement... is a snake. No time to stop, nowhere to turn...

My front tire rolls up on the snake... the snake squirms... the tire squirms... my liver churns...

Now, the biological process of a churning liver creates a vacuum which causes a suction in the lower sections of your colon. The end result being that when you pull out just up the road, grinning like an idiot, to cool out in a wide spot and take a picture or two, you are prevented from climbing off your bike for several minutes until the vacuum dissipates. :)

Yeah, that's an interesting piece of road!

When you get past the worst of it you come into some country where you might relax your concentration on the road... to actually be able to look around a bit.

Oak trees of some variety blanket the hills on both sides. Cattle laze in the shade of the trees.  The grass is greening in the spring, flowers are starting to pop... the sun is shining in a clear blue sky... the bike throbs and rumbles as I let off rolling into a series of sweeping bends...

Kern county is a pretty fine place to ride!

 Then too fast you drop down out of the hills into the open grasslands below.

Just below there I ran into a country of orchards and vineyards where the perfume of something that was flowering was often so strong I almost couldn't take a full breath!

I caught 99 at Delano and rolled up to Turlock... Now... 99 is nothing to write home about. It's just a road that gets you from here to there. blehhh...

But... at a fuel stop along there somewhere a guy pulled up beside me and climbed out of his car. I was just getting ready to climb back on and finish my run for the day...

... and he says; "Man, that is a beautiful motorcycle!" ... uh ... it had me a lil' speechless for a couple of seconds...

He was in the process of closing the door on a canary yellow Ferrari that he'd just climbed out of. :)

My reply was; "Well, thanks... but ya'll ain't doin' to shabby yourself!" :)

Darryl was a bit lucky, and it appears his stroke is one of those mild ones that a fella has a much improved chance of a 100% recovery from, though it still takes a while.

After a good visit for a couple of hours in the evening and then again in the morning I climbed back on the Raider for the return ride to Lone Pine.... This time with a rising wind. Most of the time it was behind me or quartering from behind so a non issue..

Again... 99 is just miles of... miles. The views along that central valley... well, it ain't ugly or anything like that... it just isn't anything that's memorable...

So back to Bakersfield I rode... coming "home" I cut off on hwy 178 to ride east through the Kern River canyon to Lake Isabella...

Suh-WHEET! That section of hwy 178, especially from Bakersfield to Lake Isabella is ... one of the sweetest bits of asphalt I've ever chased the paint stripes on.

It's the sort of road that you don't have to "push it" to get the best of it. You just pick a gear and sweep on through... punching it between corners on the short straights, engine throbbing as it pulls you down into the corner without brakes...

The bike stands back up straight coming out of the left hander and immediately leans back right sweeping into a fast right, only to come back left... back and forth you sweep and roll... it's a Sweet Freaking Ride!

... just that smooth, flowing sort of dance on the two lane where you hit a rhythm that has you hoping the road never ends. 

 It's a nice bit of riding east of Lake Isabella as well, but that western section, in the Kern River Canyon... is SOOOO-Purb!

... and then... I turned down off the low pass back into Indian Wells Valley, chasing a couple of Harleys... ever'body I'm sure just grinning in the sunshine... and started back up 395 Toward Olancha...

... and the wind that had been behind me... picked up several notches and came strong and steady straight out of the west. It had me leaning at 10 degrees or more just to stay straight down the road... Occasional bursts knocked me over a foot or so as the Yamaha ripped through it at 75 mph.

That wind yesterday evening was wicked! :)

A good couple of days...

Grab Your Handles and Ride!
Brian

Night Riding in My Thoughts... We rode with the dawn...

She waits, impatient as the light fades; Angry that I'm inside with that Other woman. One flesh and blood... the Other... metal and fire...

*She waits impatient in the fading light*

 We should be Night Riding  She whispers... 

...not sitting here unmoving in the Desert. We should be together. I should be carrying you through the wind!

Come. Turn me on. Light me up and let's fly.

                ~~~~

It's been too long since I rode the dark roads.

Too many riders fear the dark and pull the key before the sun sets...

I love the road at night.

I may love the night more than the day. The timid run for the lighted safety inside the walls... fearing what might come out of the dark. They hide from the dark, from the rain, from the wind, from the heat and the cold; and in the hiding miss too much of the living.

The quiet and the lonely roads with the moon shining above are a joy. The cool of a summer night... High above, stars sparkling in the velvety blackness. The silhouettes of the mountains against the dark of the moonlit horizon.

It is a beautiful time for a rider. The rumbling of the machine through the night wraps a quiet serenity around my soul.

Night roads, Un-peopled by dangerous unseeing, uncaring cagers, hurling unguided, two ton weapons down the pavement... eyes on their phones, rather than the road... are a sweetness to the soul.

Abandoned by the texters and commuters, with the center line winding off into the darkness, the night road leads those on who have learned to love its personality after sunset.

Life has a way of diverting a man from his loves... the night road is a joy I miss... I shall return.

But with the dawn we did ride...

*Sonja waiting as the sun lights the Sierras*

From our camp in the Alabama hills of California...

... My Sonja carried me south through the morning chill.

*Yamaha Raider and Mt Whitney ~ A pair of Beauties*

Mt. Whitney and the Sierras painted a glorious picture blocking our way west...

We split the wind down U.S. 395... through the Southern end of the Owens Valley. Past Owens Lake. Her V Twin rumbled through Olancha and past Haiwee Reservoir...

A thin layer of chilling overcast moved in to block out the sun... and tease me with unconquered blue sky to the west.

When 395 cut off to the SE where it entered the Indian Wells Valley, She led me onto Hwy14 and in a short ways we could finally turn west on Hwy 178, run around the end of the long chain of high peaks and leave the clouds behind.

The road climbed up out of the Valley to a low crest... Though it wasn't high, and the sun had finally found me again, the morning chill had not yet broken.

We were able to race out from under that overcast that had crawled across the sky and covered us as we rolled south. The sky was bright and blue but its power still struggled to chase away the chill of the night.

Looking back... the clouds couldn't keep pace with the machine that carried me...

Ahead lay the South fork of the Kern River, Weldon and Lake Isabella, the goal for my ride...

In that last small town I dealt with the business that was the excuse for the ride... and climbed back on the machine that keeps my soul fulfilled.

As the day warmed, together we tested yet again the bonds of man and machine. We danced through the hills in a rumbling waltz that never fails to lift a worn spirit.

Upon our return to camp... a sunset whispered... Come... Ride... the Night belongs the the Riders...

... but that will wait for another night...

Grab Your Handles and Ride
Brian