SoloBiker.com

Ever have one of those experiences that is so perfect it defies words?

Such was the case for me during my first hour outside of Burney.

I was on the road bright and early (for me) as I had two people to try and meet up with during this day – Ray (Bandit12) from the Pashnit forum, and my friend and old roommate Mark in Reno.

Several miles up 299, I came to the junction for Hwy 89. 89 was incredible through this stretch. It was straight, but ran through numerous 5,000 foot valley’s with thick green grass, cows grazing, and pine-covered mountains all around me.

Scene after scene like this went by. It was cool, but not cold. There was no other traffic on the road. I had this glorious place all to myself.

In fact, it was so perfect that I didn’t dare to stop for pictures. I feared that doing so would somehow break this perfect spell I was under.

Like all good things however, it eventually came to an end as I reached the turnoff for Hwy 44. At this point I had to make a choice – continue on to Mt. Lassen, which was looming off in the distance…

Or turn down 44 and head directly to Lake Almanor.

The Mt. Lassen route would take at least an additional hour, and I was to meet Ray in Qunicy before noon for lunch.

Much as I hated to do it, I decided to skip Lassen and take the more direct route.

Hwy 44 climbed a bit, then straightened out into a section nearly as beautiful as the one from Hwy 89. Again I had the road nearly to myself, and the temps stayed steady – very cool, but nowhere near cold and/or miserable.

Finally, after a brief cut-off down County Road A21, I found myself on Hwy 147. After a few miles, I thought to myself, “Man, it got colder all of a sudden! I must be near the lake”.

Within 10 seconds of thinking this, the blue water of Lake Almanor appeared before me. I laughed to myself and slowed to take my first break of the day to get some photos.

Lake Almanor was one of my grandfather’s two favorite places to fish (the other being Crowley Lake near Mammoth Lakes, CA during the years when it was classified as a trophy tout lake).

It’s been about 15 years since his last trip here, and he passed away in December 2005. I sat here for awhile, thinking about him, and all that he taught me about fishing and the outdoors.

He owned a Triumph Bonneville for a few years in the late 1960’s. I was somehow comforted by the thought that even though he would worry about me on a bike and on a trip like this, he would secretly smile and approve of it all.

With that, I gathered up my riding companion, who was busy soaking in the scenery and trying to avoid the bees….

…and continued on our way to Qunicy.

I rolled into town right on schedule, and gassed up. As I was finishing, two riders came in behind me, one on an SV650, and the other on a Buell Ulyssess.

We rolled over to a shady area and talked for awhile. I finally had to excuse myself to call Ray, as I was suddenly 30 minutes behind schedule after talking and sharing stories of the road.

I met up with Ray at Stoney Burger, where a fine meal was had and many stories were shared.

Thanks for meeting up with me Ray! Next time I’ll make sure to leave more time to hang around and ride some more.

With that, I left the forest and returned to the desert, and Reno.

I have mixed emotions about Reno. I lived there from 1994-97, and really enjoyed it. I returned in 2004 to buy my first home – got to pick out the model, the lot, the colors, the interior design – everything. It was a dream fulfilled.

Or was it?

3 weeks after we moved in, someone through a vinegar bottle through our front window at 1am. 4 weeks later, my wife was in a nasty auto wreck. 5 months later, she slipped and fell on a sheet of ice in her parking lot at work and shattered her elbow, resulting in a permanent injury.

Four months after that, my beloved cat was diagnosed with cancer, and he died three months later. In April my wife found out her branch office was closing, and her choices were a pink slip or a transfer to Las Vegas.

So 11 months after settling into my dream home, we sold it and moved to Vegas.

Eight months after we sold it, the new owners lost it to foreclosure. 14 months after that, it went though foreclosure for a second time. It’s currently owned, but available to rent and empty. It’s been vacant for two of the last three years since we sold it.

Between that, and all that we went through in the 11 months we lived there, I swear that the house was cursed, or built on ancient Indian burial grounds, or something along those lines. It’s all just too creepy to be a coincidence.

(UPDATE 8/2009: Just did what I said I wouldn’t do – and went by to see the house. Weeds, missing fence boards, and a Sheriff’s lock on the door AGAIN. This makes **3** foreclosures since we sold it in May 2005 – just over 4 years ago. I’m telling you, it’s a bad, bad place!)

Everything I planted is dead, with the exception of one plant. At least the 5 foot tall weeds that covered the place when I last saw it have been removed.

I decided that this visit to the house would be my last. It’s time to move on with my life and let go of the past.

A few minutes later, I arrived at my friend’s house, and had a relaxing evening of catching up. I stayed up late, as I knew the next day’s ride was quite short, and I’d have plenty of time to get there.

A much appreciated shorter day after a long one yesterday.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and this good thing definitely came to an end too quickly. It was with a twinge of sadness that I left Gil & Becky’s, and headed out of Eureka.

Gil and I discussed my route for this day. Like him, I seem to derive much more enjoyment from wider, longer sweepers, then I do from the slow, tight technical bits.

Because of this, he recommended that I consider riding Hwy 299 instead of the famed 36. I’ve driven 299 numerous times in the car and enjoyed it, while my one trip on 36 in the car made me carsick – while I was driving!

So off onto 299 I went.

I didn’t regret it a bit.

I had a wonderful ride across the northern section of the state. Temps were a bit warm, so I made tracks and didn’t stop a whole lot.

A gas stop in Willow Creek. This picture is specifically for my wife (an inside joke).

I love you sweetie.

Traveling onward, I was dumbfounded by the amount of damage that the multiple fires of the past decade have done. I seem to have found myself on this route every couple of years since 1988. It looks so different with all the burned acreage, and so truly sad.

This is the only picture I could bear to take, as most of the scenery was far more depressing then this.

The were some happier images to take though…

Lunchtime brought me to Weaverville. The last time I was here in November 2006, it was freezing cold and raining. Today? Nearly 100 degrees. Fortunately I found a little shade for Stomper.

For those who don’t yet know, I am sorry to report that the last tight, twisty section of 299, between Weaverville and Whiskytown Lake, is being replaced/bypassed. The beginnings of the new road can be viewed on eastbound 299 about 10 miles east of Weaverville.

The project appears to be in its very early stages, and will likely take a few years to complete (if in fact they are replacing the entire stretch, which is about 10 miles long). So get out there while you can before this fun piece of highway disappears forever.

(In doing some research for the above, I also learned that one of my favorite pieces of road on planet earth – US 101 through Richardson Grove State Park, is going to be bypassed as well. Construction begins in late-2008. Get out there and experience these roads while you can. The very best ones are rapidly disappearing.)

There are no pictures of Redding (see Palmdale and Twentynine Palms for an explanation).

I slogged my way through the Redding heat, and made my way to Burney.

My butt, which has been pretty good on the new Sargent seat for most of the trip decided to start screaming at me, and so I stopped at a Rest Stop just 15 miles outside of Burney.

A few minutes later, I arrived in Burney, picked up a bite to eat, and settled down at the Sleepy Hollow Lodge, a *very* old single level Motel, but perfectly nice and clean.

Tomorrow is a day of meeting new friends, and visiting with old friends. I’m very much looking forward to it.

What a difference a day of rest makes!

I left at 8:30am with quite a bit of concern about my balky body. The previous days had proven tough on my shoulders and back, to the point that the ride was no fun at all at certain points.

On my way out of Lodi, I decided to adjust my route on the fly, depending on how I was feeling.

I took Hwy 12 east to Interstate 80, through the endless traffic on that route through the Delta. I accidentally rode through a red stop light on the Rio Vista bridge. Talk about lucky – not only did I not have to wait 30 minutes for the bridge to open and close again, but more importantly, I was not stopped, and the bridge had not yet begun to open. So I’m here writing this instead of swimming in the Sacramento River right now.

Making great time to US 101 and feeling good, I made the decision to venture out to Hwy 1 via Hwy 128. I had done this once before in a car, and it was one of my favorite ways to get to the coast. The road starts with numerous tight-ish turns, straightens out for a good bit, then turns twisty again as it heads into the Navarro River State Park area.

Finally, 128 ends at one of my favorite junctions in all of California.

I don’t quite know what it is exactly about this junction that I love so much.

Perhaps it’s the fact that 128 becomes 1 without ever having to make a turn

Or maybe it’s the Navarro River here that flows just around the corner from the junction into the Pacific Ocean.

Maybe it’s just this simple bridge crossing the River, allowing Hwy 1 to continue it’s northward coastal journey.

Whatever it is, I could spend all day long at this one spot. But time’s a wastin’…

Within moments after taking off again, I see it. The culmination of a dream that has been countless years in the making – I’m riding my bike next to the Pacific Ocean.

The first moment I see a level, paved parking lot (hey, I’m still a newbie in some ways!) I stop to take it all in, and get some photographic evidence that I was there.

And yes, Stomper made it too!

By pure chance as I left the parking lot, I fell in at the tail end of an 8 bike convoy. I missed a few of the specific models, but there were at least two V-Stroms, a BMW, and a yellow Goldwing in the group.

I didn’t want to intrude on their ride, so I stayed in back as I followed them through Fort Bragg. Once we hit some of the twistier bits, one rider quickly dropped back from the group. I’m not sure if he was sweeping from that far back, or if he was just the least experienced rider in the group, but while the other 7 quickly disappeared, I found I was able to just about keep up with him. This made me feel quite a bit better about my riding skills.

Finally, as we turned inland toward 101, I found that comfort zone in the twisties that had been missing the entire trip. For the first time, I was hitting each corner properly, and was moving at a solid clip – faster then all of the cars on the road for the first time.

My reverie was eventually interrupted by a tow truck lifting a brand new, maroon, completely wadded up 2009 Kawasaki Concours 14. I couldn’t believe it. I slowed to make sure the rider was okay, and he gave a sheepish grin and wave. I slowed a bit after that, feeling better about my capabilities.

Working my way north and west up 101, I knew by the quickly cooling temps that I was almost to Fortuna. Despite venturing out to the coast, I was still about 20 minutes ahead of schedule. I stopped for a quick break.

Eureka! I found it! (Sorry.)

I quickly found my way to my accomodations for the night. Dr. Gil and Beck-Suki of Sport-Touring.net fame, had generously offered me a place to stay for the night at their B&B&B (Bed & Breakfast & Bikes).

What wonderful people! I’m a shy, introverted guy who has trouble meeting new people. (Whaddya expect from a blog called SoloBiker.com?) But they instantly made me feel right at home, despite my nervousness.

My quarters for the night…

The wall of riders who have come to stay with Gil & Becky during their travels. I’m proud to have my goofy-looking mug added to these boards.

Gil & Becky, it was great to meet you, and spend time talking with you. I’d be honored to return the favor somehow if I ever can, and I hope to come back in the future. Thank you again for putting up with me.

Today was spent resting my weary body, visiting with family, and installing a Vista Cruise throttle lock. Tomorrow is the longest day of the trip, and I want to be ready for it.

No pictures today I’m afraid.

I woke up unbelievably sore, and made the heartbreaking decision to hi-tail it up 101 to 152 to I-5 today, and get off the bike as soon as possible. I’m visiting with my parents for 2 nights, so I’m hoping that 36 hours off the bike will prove to be just what the doctor ordered for my achy-breaky body.

I did learn a few things on the ride today however…

1. It turns out that US 101 from Morro Bay to Salinas is a perfectly pleasant place to spend a day. Maybe it’s because I grew up in an agricultural area, but I found the rolling hillsides and acres of crops to be both attractive and comforting.

2. Crampbusters work. I bought one for my throttle hand, and had no pain in my hand, or the back of my right shoulder blade the whole day. The left one still hurt like hell though. Odd as it’s going to look, I’m buying a Crampbuster for the left grip too.

3. My bike feels faster then it is. I ran at 85 mph for a good chunk of the day, only to remember that my speedo is off almost exactly 10%. 77 mph isn’t nearly as impressive somehow.

I made good time (for me), covering the 300 miles in 5.5 hours. I arrived at my destination in much better shape then I had the two previous days, which was a great sign.

Stay tuned for Day 5 where I finally remember that I did indeed pack a camera on this trip, and actually start using it again!