Travelogue: Stardate..August 2-8, 2003
Prologue - Have motorcycle,
will travel! And indeed we did. We decided to "step out" for a
week and hit the open road. Not quite a Thelma and Louise story, as we
didn't fly over any cliffs, thank goodness, but nonetheless we needed to get
out of town. The plan - find the most twisty roads; keep the throttle
WFO (wide frickin' open) but enjoy the scenery;
avoid all contact with law enforcement;
eat, drink and sleep well.
Day 1 - Saturday,
August 2nd: Castro Valley to Boonville - Ok, and away we go...gassed up and heading out we
started north on 680 to the 80 doing some freeway droning to get out of
town. We finally hit some twisties near Vacaville on Pleasants Valley
Rd. and then connected with 128 west. More twisties by Lake Berryessa,
then a connection to 175 over to Hopland. We did a bit on 101 and then
hit 253 west to take us into Boonville where we spent the night at the
Boonville Hotel.
Not exactly the Iron Butt
competition for the day, as we logged just under 200 miles by 3:00 P.M., but
hey, we weren't going for mileage, we were going for content. And
besides the brewery/saloon was across the street from the hotel...that was
a true "no-brainer". The hotel was really cool as you will see
by the pictures below. Neat grounds to roam around and relax in the
gardens or on the patio daddy'o. The town of Boonville itself is tiny,
don't blink else you'll miss it, but that was fine with us as we wanted some
peace and quite.
Click on the small
pictures for a larger view to appear.
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Pleasants Valley Rd & 128 - Beautimus Day |
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Highway 175 over to Hopland - Twisty and Fun |
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Highway 175 over to Hopland |
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Curt in the library at Boonville Hotel |
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Curt with Boonville Hotel mascot on the back patio |
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Side shot of Boonville Hotel |
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Grounds of Boonville Hotel |
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Day 2 - Sunday,
August 3rd: Boonville to Fortuna - After a hearty breakfast at a cafe across the street
served by a bitchy waitress that gleaned a measly tip, we were off with a
hardy har har and a cloud of dust. I think they are still coughing.
Our next destination was somewhere in the vicinity of Eureka, yes as in
gold. We continued west on 128, cut off on a few fun twisties and
ended up on highway 1. We did the coastal thing through Fort Bragg and
then took a side road east over to 101 and up through Leggett. Around
Garberville we ran into the Reggae Festival, oh boy, which we learned is an
annual event. Sheesh, talk about a "cluster f***", a bunch of hippy-ish
looking dudes and dudettes whacked out on drugs is more like it. It was tent
city in this river bed as far as the eye could see. We couldn't get
away from there fast enough, I think our tires are still smoking from
running far far away.
We peeled off of 101 and
headed west again through some funky little towns - Briceland, Ettersburg,
Honeydew, ah, yeah, even the names were funky. We stopped for gas in
Honeydew and saw a couple of other bikers. Curt, being the ambassador
of motorcycling goodwill decided to chat with them and find out what they
were up to. I was not even finished gassing up the scooters and
Curt returned with a scowl on his face. Apparently they hadn't
heard of Curt's goodwill program and weren't to interested in chatting.
Downright rude if you ask me. Oh well, we chalked it up to the
motorcycles they were riding - very old Triumphs with poor suspension that
had probably shaken their dentures loose and made them cranky.
Off again, passing cars
and cows and Triumphs (ha, cranky bastards), heading north toward the Lost
Coast - a stretch of coast very appropriately named. It was quite
bumpy, foggy and desolate out there with very few cars or people.
Truly a place lost in time with cows wandering out in the middle of the
road, making it a bit treacherous at times. Finally after a long day
with lots of different weather climates and road conditions we headed for
the town of Fortuna on 101. We managed to sniff out a
microbrewery (Eel River Brewing Co.) with a hotel next door within walking
distance, hmm imagine that. We quickly showered and headed out the
door for libations, because if we laid down we knew we would be asleep
within seconds. Again, not another marathon day mileage wise, but a
full 8 hour day of riding with all the twisties and such.
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A fun road we discovered on our way to Fort Bragg |
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Flynn Creek Rd - off of 128 |
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Curt at Flynn Creek Rd. junction |
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Lu at Flynn Creek Rd. junction |
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Mattole Rd. over to the Lost Coast - yes lots of fog on that road |
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Day 3 - Monday,
August 4th: Fortuna to Yreka - This was my favorite day, that is if I had to pick a
favorite, because they were all good. But the roads we did were the
best I have ever experienced on a motorcycle. We headed out of
Fortuitous Fortuna, and took highway 36 east. This was miles and miles
of sheer bliss on a motorcycle, great pavement, wonderfully banked turns,
great twisties, fabulous long sweepers, and oh yeah hardly any cars on the
road. We went from beautiful little country towns to redwoods to
breathtaking valleys and meadows. I think we even had a Sasquatch
sighting along the way (see pictures below).
After 70 miles of delight,
we turned off onto highway 3 heading north. Again, more incredible roads and
scenery, almost 150 miles worth. We stayed on 3 through Weaverville,
Trinity Center, Callahan, and finally into Yreka. Much of this route
paralleled the Trinity River, with a stop at Trinity Lake just for shits and
giggles. By the time we hit Yreka, we were beat, but we couldn't stop
smiling. I think I was still grinning when I woke up the next morning.
This time we stumbled into a Best Western and called it good. We found
a local Mexican joint for dinner, slurped up a margarita and wandered back
to the hotel a bit dazed and confused, but not from the margarita. We
just couldn't get over the ride and the roads. Oh, and if any of y'all
are thinking about staying in Yreka...don't. A total freeway town
right off the Interstate 5 with no personality.
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Shot of the bikes on highway 36 - notice the lack of tread on the tires....that story continues |
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Sasquatch sighting - he's there thru the trees in the middle |
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Lu at highway 36 and 3 junction |
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Highway 36 and 3 junction |
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Trinity Lake on highway 3 |
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Trinity Lake - Pull out on highway 3 |
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Curt on highway 3 - looking back |
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Curt playing Beavis on highway 3 - or is it Butthead |
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Day 4 - Tuesday, August 5th: Yreka to
Medford, Oregon to Mt. Shasta -
Ok, so decision time on Tuesday morning as we woke up. When we left on
this trip our tires appeared to be adequate, however after our frolicking at
amusing speeds on highways 36 and 3 the previous day, we noticed that our
tires were pretty much toast. So, do we hang around another hour and a
half and wait for the local motorcycle shop to open and hope they have what
we need or do we bonsai up to Medford, Oregon and see what they
have. Good thing the vote was unanimous, Oregon it is. Never
mind that neither of us are too long in the patience department.
We decided to try Ashland,
Oregon first since it was on the way. We stopped at the local garage
and asked if there was a motorcycle shop in town, boy I bet those folks are
still talking about us. After they finished staring at us for a
few minutes trying to figure out if an alien spacecraft had landed
somewhere, they came around. They were more than happy to tell us
everywhere we couldn't find a tire. Thanks boys, we'll just mosey on
along. Northbound and down into Medford we went. The good news
was, they had our tires, hoorah, the bad news was it was gonna take a week
to install them. Actually it took just over 3 hours. Bummer man.
We were camped out at the motorcycle shop that had an espresso bar.
Now that's just not right - give a bunch of normally over-revved motorcycle
junkies more caffeine, perfect. Number one, I don't normally even drink
coffee, let alone some super-mocha-latte-no foam-carmel-vente-don't you
know-espresso. Holy batshit Batman, I was bouncing off the wall
after half a cup of this stuff, I should know better. I turned into a
talking windup toy - blah, blah, blah. Sheesh, I was even
getting tired of myself.
Anyway, the guys finally
finished up putting some new sneakers on the bikes, and we were off again by
1:00 P.M. We headed east on highway 66 which took us over to Klamath
Falls, Oregon. We decided to head over to the Lava Beds Natl. Monument
but on the way the wind picked up something fierce so we decided to head
south instead of farther east off into the pea patch. We headed down
97 with the wind still bucking us around pretty good, so we decided to take
shelter in the town of Mt. Shasta.
We were pretty beat up by
the time we pulled in. We hit a local bed & breakfast that was just
off the main drag. We did our usual routine and headed out in search
of happy hour and dinner. It was sort of a dry town with only one
local dive bar which turned out to be quite an unpleasant experience.
We spotted the place from across the street and hesitated because it looked
pretty trashy. Curt said, come on let's just poke our heads in and
take a look. Yikes. As we hit the door and took a peek we saw a
frightening scene - a lady had passed out and fallen on the floor and was
having a seizure of some sort, complete with foaming mouth and all. We
took one look and bolted down the sidewalk in the other direction - 911 had
already been called. We headed straight for the liquor store and the
sanctuary of the back patio at the bed & breakfast, much calmer there.
Later we did head out again for a great dinner at a local restaurant at the
other end of town.
By the way, Mt. Shasta was
a neat little town with the snowy mountain peak at 14, 162' looming in the
background.
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A stop on highway 66 near Klamath Falls, OR |
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Same stop on highway 66 near Klamath Falls, OR |
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Our B&B for the night in Mt. Shasta |
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The B&B pup - Noel. I took her for a walk in the morning and she was a happy doggy |
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Just an old abandoned house on my walk with the dog |
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Cool meadow on my walk with the dog |
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Old barn in the meadow on my walk with the dog |
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Mt. Shasta looming large - shot from my walk with the dog |
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Day 5 - Wednesday, August 6th: Mt.
Shasta to Quincy - We pulled out of Mt. Shasta at the usual time of
around 9:00 A.M. headed southeast for the Sierras. We meandered along
on highway 89 for quite a few miles through beautiful scenery of redwoods
and forest. The road itself wasn't that exciting, straight with a few
too many cars for our liking, but the scenery far made up for it. An
ever watchful eye was necessary as well because there were plenty of deer
and other critters just waiting to mosey out in front of you. Easy on
the throttle here and one paw on the front break. After a ways we
decided we needed some fun fast twisty stuff so we peeled off 89 and hit
some fun looking roads on the map, and indeed we lucked out. We did a
neat loop through Glenburn, Fall River Mills, and Cassel Creek - lots of
open meadows and country type scenery.
We got back onto 89 and
headed south again towards Lassen Volcanic Natl. Park. The beginning
of this was beautiful roads and views, typical park stuff. The only
painful part was that the posted speed limit was 35 mph....speed
limit...what speed limit...who pays attention to those anyway, they are just
guidelines right. We managed to avoid any park ranger mishaps though
and approached the 8,512' summit to find lots of snow and incredible views.
Whoa. Just as I was thinking how fortunate that the roads were
clear and dry and free of debris, I saw a "Road Construction Ahead"
sign. Uh-oh. Here's were things got a bit treacherous as we started
our decent. "Loose Gravel - Next 10 Miles", and they weren't
lying either. 10 miles of loose, wet, muddy gravel going downhill,
yeah, my favorite. We were slipping and sliding around and I was
clamped on tighter than an abalone to a rock. Curt had to practically
pry my hands off the bars and shake me loose when we got down. Let's
just say that gravel and street bikes go together like oil and vinegar.
Pretty as it was, I think
I said a few hallelujahs and thanked a few other folks as well upon reaching
blacktop again. With the pedal to the metal we continued off
down 89, finally pooping out in a town called Quincy. We decided the
B&B thing was pretty cool and hit another one for the night. We opted
out of searching for any more local color at the saloons, and stuck with the
old Jack & Coke routine on the patio of the B&B - everyone got along just
fine. Dinner was another tasty affair at a locally recommended joint.
Unfortunately, I got a
little lazy with the camera and forgot to take any shots of the B&B or many
other shots for that matter - below is all there is for day 5.
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Lassen Volcanic Natl. Park - Near the summit |
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Curt a bit chilled at Lassen near the summit, what a whimp - notice the snow on the side of the road |
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Day 6 - Thursday, August 7th: Quincy to
Sonora - Breakfast this morning at the B&B was a romping good time
with some other guests that were visiting from Phoenix, Arizona. Curt,
doing his ambassador of goodwill thing starting chatting with them and
within minutes everyone was fast friends and telling lively stories.
They were all headed over to Reno, Nevada for a car show called Hot August
Nights.
After our good-byes we
took off down 89 headed for 49. 89 was more of the same, scenic, but
not too twisty. 49 however, was a whole 'nother story - yeeehaaa.
We hit some incredibly fun road here with lots of twists and turns and the
Yuba river paralleling the road. It was on 49 in the little town of
Downiesville that we stopped for a break and ran into two gentlemen from Los
Angeles out touring on their motorcycles as well. It was ironic in
that we both pulled out our maps and had all the fun roads highlighted with
yellow markers. We all got a chuckle out of that and were kindred
souls on a Zen-like journey of Northern California. We ended up riding
with them for quite a stretch, as we were all headed in the same direction.
Great guys, great fun.
As 49 wound down closer to
civilization and Yosemite we noticed that we were out of the woods and back
to plain old rude behavior. When we were out in the boonies, almost
every car or semi-truck would ease over and let us pass, or they would pull
off the roadway in many cases to let us by. We always waved and
appreciated this small gesture of courtesy. As we came back to
civilization drivers refused to let us pass easily, in fact they would
purposely try to block us. When we did get around them, they would act
all pissed off - I still haven't figured this out. If we want to pass
you, we're gonna pass, we are a lot smaller, agile and faster. Making
it more difficult and unsafe does neither of us any good. Ok, I'll get
off the soapbox now.
We finally pulled into
Sonora and hit the visitors center to find a good B&B place, of which they
directed us to the best one yet. The innkeeper, Dottie, reminded
me of our old next door neighbor in San Mateo - Lynn Manieri. Although
Dottie wasn't Italian, she was certainly very animated and very hospitable.
After we settled in we headed out to roam around downtown. Curt
feeling brave and lucky decided we should break the stigma of local saloons
and cajoled me into one for a beer. Well lo and behold we broke the
mold, the place wasn't exactly the Ritz, but no one was shaking on the floor
or throwing bottles. The owner was actually from the bay area
originally, so we all chatted for a while and left peacefully with a happy
glow. Dinner was next up and wonderful again - more local
recommendations that turned out great.
After dinner we wandered
around some and upon our return found the two B&B cats out playing on the
lawn. We joined in with reeds and vines and had them spinning and
jumping and twirling. What a hoot - very cool kitties.
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Gold Lake Forrest Highway - side road off of highway 49 |
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Livingroom area of B&B in Sonora |
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Day 7 - Friday, August 8th: Sonora to
Castro Valley - Time to come home :-( a bitter sweet end to a great
adventure. Although we had a great time with many memories, we were
anxious to get back to the critters and our own bed. We did a few fun
twisty roads off of highway 49 and then bee-lined home on 120 to the 580.
Hot, boring, and too much traffic - the necessary evil to get anywhere in
the bay area. But home was a welcome sight and so were the critters.
Tuna the kitty didn't even pretend that he didn't miss us. He came a
runnin' from somewhere and practically leaped into Curt's arms.
Jesse was scooped up later from our friends house - Tomas & Teresa, where he
had been pampered for the week.
Epilogue - I
am already planning the next trip. Hope you all enjoyed the travelogue
and photos.
