Driving to Boise

I waited too long to make flight reservations to Boise (only crazy expensive seats remaining), so I set out by car at 5 AM for the 10 hour/31 minute drive to Backwater Ave for the 4th of July weekend. It was surprisingly pleasant except for the long stretches without radio reception between Winnemucca and Boise. As Adrienne remembered from an earlier drive to Boise, there are also long stretches in Nevada without filling stations and with ominous signs reading:

PRISON AREA
HITCHHIKING PROHIBITED

But I arrived without problems. Had a great Subway sandwich in Winnemucca and enjoyed the changing scenery from Sierra forest outside Reno to Nevada cowboy country to Boise farmland. Bathrooms were also few and far between and it was truly a sitcom moment when I pulled into the only gas station in Jordan Valley, Oregon - first gas in 100 miles -- to find three SUVs with signs that said Ramirez Family Reunion and seemingly all 18 of the extended Ramirez family in line for the only bathroom.

I tried to scribble down some of the interesting street signs on my way into Boise, but it was becoming a driving hazard, so all I have is "Chicken Dinner Road" near Snake River.

The Great Escape

Lost my job last week, but set a new distance record on my motorcycle -- 200 miles to Garberville. Henry and JT took the coast route all the way from Pt. Reyes. Don and I took 101 to Cloverdale before cutting over to the coast (128 to Mendocino). From there it was a windy ride to the Lost Coast turnoff to Leggett (home of the Drive-Thru Chandelier Tree, which we drove through on the way back). The stretch of Hwy 1 between Westport (on the coast) to Leggett (inland) was eerie. Beautiful, peaceful, windy road with no cars or houses in sight.

We stayed at the Best Western Humboldt House Inn in Garberville, a historic building with all the modern amenities -- including cable TV, so I could watch World Cup Soccer while waiting for everyone else to get up the next morning. We had dinner at Calico's, a great diner on the main drag. The guys took the fast route home -- four hours on boring 101. I took the coast route again because my head feels like a bobblehead doll at speeds over 55 -- 6 hours including a lunch stop in Mendocino. JT has lots of ideas for souping up my bike -- including a windshield and a luggage rack so I can carry more than a toothbrush on these excursions. (JT is already talking up a trip to San Simeon in July and Death Valley in November...)

Planning and Recovering from Trips

I am in training for my version of a marathon – a motorcycle ride from SF to Garberville. Although we are staying overnight at the beautiful Humboldt House in Garberville, the drive each way will be 5 times my longest ride – the commute from SF to Palo Alto. On the positive side, the view along highway 1 will be great and we have all day to get there. Our trip leader (Jim, who helped me find my motorcycle in March 2009 and delivered it to SF when I wasn’t experienced enough to make the ride myself) promises many sights along the way, including (in his words):

1. Breathtaking scenery on Highway 1 (and plenty of time to look at it because the road is twisty, i.e. you won't be going very fast).
2. Above Fort Ross there are frequently cows in the road. Remember, do NOT slap the cow as you ride by . . . the little guys kick!
3. Passing thru Fort Bragg is boring but if you're thirsty, there is a great coffee shop almost directly across from the Railroad Depot, home of the Skunk Train.
4. The Leggett Hill is besought with logging trucks. Fortunately it isn't a long stretch and there are few, if any, on the weekends.
5. If you've never seen the Tunnel Tree (Leggett), you should. It costs about $2 and takes a few minutes. You can drive your bike thru the tree and one of us can take a picture.
6. The Benbow cutoff is a nice 3 mile loop, paralleling the roadway and taking you alongside the river. You rejoin Highway 1 just after the Benbow Inn. Garberville is two miles further up the road.
7. Just north of Garberville is Phillipsville and the start of The Avenue of the Giants. This is WELL worth the time. Silence reigns and the light filtering down thru these magnificent trees softens everything. Stop, take off your helmet and listen . . . you can almost hear the trees growing. Park at Founder's Grove and hike past a 370 foot tree that toppled over a few years ago . . . amazing place. The tallest tree IN THE WORLD is along Mattole Road, near Founder's Grove.

But first I have to recover from tripping down the stairs at home. One toe on my left foot is strangely discolored and may be broken... hard to change gears this week. With all the talk about motorcycles being dangerous, they never warn you about the hazards of walking down carpeted stairs...

Naked Bikes and Wacky Wall Decor

Before we set out on our motorcycle ride to El Granada yesterday morning, I suggested to Don that we change the name of our bike gang from the Safety First Bike Club (as I've been calling it) to the "Naked Bike Gang" because that is the only thing our motorcycles have in common. His is an elegant Italian bike that looks like it should be in the Smithsonian. Mine is a dual sport that looks like it should be bouncing over moguls on a dirt trail. (I just consulted Wikipedia and a "naked bike" is defined as a bike that is stripped down to its most fundamental parts.)

Although we were fully clothed, I did make a spectacle of myself very early in the ride by dropping my bike at the corner of 25th and Geary. Not sure what threw me off balance from a dead stop, but I was trying to open my face mask without taking my left hand off the clutch. Don gallantly pulled into a driveway and got my bike upright. No damage this time thanks to my new hand guards.

The trip to El Granada was so quick (about 25 minutes), that we kept going down the coast to Half Moon Bay, up over the hill on 92 and down Canada Road to Buck's Restaurant in Woodside. It was fun to introduce Don to a bit of Silicon Valley culture. Woodside is home to people like Apple CEO Steve Jobs and Oracle CEO Larry Ellison and this restaurant is a wacky museum of oddball art and collectibles hanging from every inch of ceiling and wallspace -- blimps, surfboard, squash racket, a case of harmonicas, 6 foot Statue of Liberty...and wall to wall green alligator carpeting. Legend has it that this is a meeting place for tech industry entrepreneurs and venture capitalists, but they must have put us in the kid section, because I didn't see any deals going down. After our breakfast of burritos and home fries, I took backroads back to SF and Don hopped on 92 back to the East Bay.

Strangely enough, the Buck's menu was titled Naked Lunch options...

"Brake In" Period

I asked Don to take a look at some black goo that was seeping from my motorcycle at the rate of one drop per ride. He diagnosed it as grease from the kickstand and not a problem, but thought the chain seemed loose and I should take the bike in for adjustments. While there (Mission Motorcycles in Daly City), I asked if hand guards would cut down on the frost bite I was experiencing on early morning rides. Thicker gloves for my birthday had not made a difference. Four hours later -- the chain tightening had been estimated at 15 minutes -- I left with a properly adjusted chain, new front brake pads, and WARM HANDS! The hand guards were not designed for my bike (although the color was a good match), so I gather the guys in the back room enjoyed kludging a solution.

Four hours is a long time to spend pacing between the showroom and the service center, but I heard some interesting stories -- about trucks backing into parked bikes, a motorcycle cop who spent his days and nights patrolling the projects on a dual sport that was a larger version of mine, a guy with a large bandage on his bald head, another guy with his arm in a sling and a damaged bike outside ... hardly anyone seemed there for an oil change or a tune up. Meanwhile, an overhead TV showed stunt riders doing handstands and other tricks while spinning their bikes with the front wheel in the air.

I bring my bike to Mission Motorcycles because the people are so friendly. They describe themselves as bike enthusiasts, and it shows. I always feel a bit intimidated pulling away after getting the bike serviced. It's not like a car dealership where you can anonymously drive off. There are always a few biker dudes smoking out front as you put on your gear and prepare to ride off. Inevitably, something trips me up and someone has to offer advice or assistance. This time the bike wouldn't start because the kill switch was off... And so begins my second year in the saddle.

Above the Clouds

It was stormy last Friday and rain is predicted for tomorrow, but it was gloriously clear and sunny on Sunday (yesterday), and the Safety First Motorcycle Gang (Don and I) held our first ride of the season: a trip across the Golden Gate Bridge and up a winding two-lane road to the top of Mt. Tamalpais. We passed many bicycle riders on the way up, but they had the advantage on the way down, approaching speeds of 35 mph and negotiating the tight turns more easily than I could on the motorcycle.

The view was spectacular at the top -- similar to what you see looking out the window of an airplane, with a layer of clouds below. A tourist from Dijon offered to take our photo and Don struck up a conversation in French! I can't improve on Don's trip report, so I'll just provide a link to his blog.

Fog City

It was supposed to be a beautiful day on Saturday, and I knew it would be, if only I could make it through the fog and up to Skyline where I was meeting Alix to see her "new" 2005 Ninja 250, which had been lovingly souped-up for racing by its previous owner.

The fog was so thick in San Francisco that pedestrians I passed on Sunset Blvd. were huddled under umbrellas as they waited for the bus. Water was dripping off my helmet, which I wore visor up so I could see out. I did not feel safe at freeway speeds on the slick roads and without a visor, so I slowly made my way down Mission Street through Daly City, which becomes El Camino. Eventually (in Millbrae) the sun burned through the fog and started to dry out my leather jacket. The ride through the Redwoods was great once I turned off 35, which was already backing up with traffic heading for the pumpkin patches in Halfmoon Bay

Visiting Alice's Restaurant, the biker hangout on Skyline Boulevard, was quite an experience with Alix because she likes to stir things up. Never mind that the regulars who frequent the parking lot across from Alice's were decked out in full leather regalia and had elaborately decorated Harleys with 5X the horsepower. She would say, "How do you like my bike?" and you could see them momentarily at a loss for words before quickly warming to her obvious enthusiasm for her new sport.