49'er Rally 2004

It never did warm up on Friday. First of all, as I said, I left in the middle of the night. I was through Cajon Pass (4,000 + feet) by 6 am and was in the high desert by the time the sun came up. It was a little windy and cool most of the way to Lone Pine. Further north, I see very dark clouds ahead of me. In all my preplanning, I was really never planning on taking foul weather gear. After all, it's May in California. How bad can it get? At the very last minute (11 pm the night before to be precise), I decide to check the weather at weather.com. Hmmm..."isolated thundershowers" kept coming up, no matter which route I picked north of Bishop. I don't own a rain suit (lost it when my saddlebag fell off on the toll road a few months ago) and my winter riding gear is awfully bulking (and way too warm if it's nice weather). I think "I wonder if my gear can go in my medium Helen's bag?" Sure enough, it fits, and I'm now prepared for anything. Gratefully, I took the time to pack, because as I approach Big Pine, the skies are dark, it's very windy and starting to sprinkle. The protection of my RT's fairing and windshield are excellent and I stay pretty dry to Bishop where I stop for gas. I didn't want to stop twice after all.

There's probably a handful of days where I put on 300 miles before noon, but today was the first time I have ever put on 400 miles before noon. I'm making great time, partly because I'm riding solo and partly because I left in the middle of the night (have I mentioned that part yet?).

I don't make near as good time north of Bishop partly because of weather, the roads aren't as flat and straight and due to the fact that I'm getting a little tired so I'm stopping more often. I'm debating whether to take a pass over the Sierras. The clouds look ominous and Tioga (Hwy 120) has been closed for the day. I'm hoping Carson (Hwy 88) looks better. I take Monitor Pass (Hwy 89) and the weather is improving, but still looks dark in the mountains beyond.

I stop at a cafe near the junction of Hwy 88 and 89 for a cup of coffee. I've stopped there for lunch before. It's a quaint and interesting place, not as commercial as other restaurants and lodges in the area. The food is good and the people are friendly. When I walk in, there is some very interesting and enjoyable music playing and my waitress is wearing a tie-died tee shirt. She serves me a cup of coffee. I ask her "How's the weather on Carson Pass?" She replies "It's the same as here, except colder and windier." To confirm, I ask "But, other than the fact that it's colder and windier, it's the same as here, right?". She says "Right. Exactly like here." I chuckle to myself and enjoy my cup of coffee. I've made up my mind. It's Luther Pass (Hwy 89) today. I'll save Carson Pass for later in the year. Of the four passes (Tioga, Sonora, Ebbetts and Carson), Carson Pass is one of my favorites.

I follow Luther Pass to Hwy 50, stop for gas and pull into the Fairgrounds about 4 pm. Surprisingly, I have no problem finding a good place to pitch my tent (very close to a place where I've pitched before).

Friday night is a relaxing one. I have no problems getting to sleep after riding 11 hours and 581 miles. I run into several people I know including Greg and Mike Ruggles, Dan and Barb Stewart, Jawna Prieto and Jim Rasmussen.

Saturday, I'm up early and checking out the bikes and the vendors. I buy a new, compact tire plug kit. It's a "Stop 'n Go" version, better than the standard BMW kit, but smaller than the bulkier Stop 'n Go version I previously had (but lost in that "saddlebag incident"). I also picked up a nifty air compressor which is about the same size as the one I had been carrying, but no loose wires and has a built in gauge.

Not used to sitting around all day, I participate in a small group ride to the Rubicon River. Nice ride on some Forest Service Roads (all paved). We get within 17 miles of Lake Tahoe. At the Rubicon, I get a little tired of one of the participants. He's apparently a "big wig" at Boeing in Seattle who's not only used to bossing people around, but does so quite naturally. He "suggests" that I'm riding a little close to the ride leader even though he's totally unaffected since he's in the #4 position. Personally, I feel I'm giving a comfortable distance as well as riding staggered, staying in the leader's mirror. Even though the leader is not complaining, "Mr. Boeing" takes it upon himself to suggest 1-1/2 seconds separation. Puleese! Maybe 2 seconds between #1 and #3, but not between #1 and #2. At the Rubicon, I find myself riding in the size of group I'm most comfortable with (1), thank the ride leader for putting together such a great route but tell her that I'm going ahead. She obviously knows what's going through my head and rhetorically asks "prefer a little quicker pace?" I nod as does she. Unfettered, the rest of the ride transitions from "terrific" to "incredible". What a great road and a nice, 130 mile day ride. I arrive back in camp in time to get cleaned up for dinner. I join Dan and Barb Stewart for dinner in town.

Pictures at an Exhibition BMW style

not Mussorgsky, but not bad either

click on image for larger version

Sunday, May 30, 2004

After dinner, I see more bikes, talk to more people. My next door neighbor wins first prize for the pre-70s entrant in the bike show. He's restored his Dad's 1959 R69 (not US) machine which he bought new in 1959. Jeff (from Portland) becomes a magnet not only for a multitude of gawkers and admirers, but also a plethora of free advice from anyone (and everyone) who walks by.

I spend some time talking with Jawna Prieto about my tentative route home where I describe going west to the coast and then south on Hwy 1, stopping for lunch in Monterey when she says "I think I'll ride with you". She asks if I ride very fast and I say I seldom go over an indicated 80, but then I don't slow down very much just because the road is twisty or if the road is laden with traffic. She seems fine with that and I know she's only thinking about the "not going faster than an indicated 80 part", not the "regardless of traffic" part. I don't say "no", but I don't encourage either.

My day is winding down and I'm concerned that I won't be able to sleep due to the noise of the live band. Just in case, I put a fresh pair of earplugs by my bed. Amazingly, it seems as though when my head first hits my "pillow", the band takes a "break". I wake once in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and that's it. Next thing I know, it's 5:45 and I'm ready to go! It's amazing what sleeping on the ground on my Thermarest does such wonders for my back. I feel great! My back is in better shape than when I left the house. I get packed up and have a bran muffin. I'm ready to roll by 7 am. Jawna is packed and is waiting for me.

We take I-80 west to I-680 south and stop for gas (for Jawna) in Danville. We get our first hundred miles under our belt before 9:30. We take I-680 until we pick up Hwy 17 to Santa Cruz. We stop at Watsonville for gas (for me this time). Now we have 200 miles under our belt. Jawna makes a remark about not doing this kind of riding in a long, long time. Since we are making such good time, I suggest that we stop for lunch in Big Sur rather than Monterey. She nods, but I know that she's already hungry. All she had for breakfast was a Balance bar. I confirm that Big Sur is O.K. She agrees and we're off. We encounter a little bit of traffic on Hwy 17 and I lose sight of her. She has a little more trouble getting through traffic than I do. We encounter the worst traffic of the day between Carmel and Big Sur. As bad as this is, it's no worse than what I normally encounter here on any typical Sunday. In other words, this is not holiday traffic, it's the normal Sunday traffic here. After reaching Big Sur, I pull into the parking lot of the cafe where I often stop. A few moments later, Jawna arrives. I think she now understands what I meant last night when I was describing my riding style.

We have a nice lunch and take our time. We've already got 250 miles under our belt and it's just now lunch time. Of course, I have a long way to go but I'm not thinking about my destination yet. In my mind, I'm at my destination: Pacific Coast Highway. After Big Sur, the traffic is very light. We stop once again at Ragged Point for water and a stretch. This stop, as it turns out, would be the last we make together.

I pull off for gas at Shell Beach (just north of Pismo Beach). After gas, I move my bike to the side of the pumps to remove some clothing and to get some water. I see Jawna ride by. She sees me and waves.

By the time I reach Camarillo, fatigue is starting to set in. I add a Frappacino to my water regimen and I get my "second wind" by Santa Barbara. It's 6 pm and I'm still 3 hours from home. I keep saying to myself "I could have taken the freeway and be home by now". Once I've said that to myself, all regrets leave and I enjoy the rest of the ride. I call Nancy from Santa Monica, where I have to stop to remove the sunglasses (it's 8 pm) and let her know that I have to make one more stop for gas, but I would be home a little after 9 pm.

I pull in the driveway at a quarter after nine. I'm a little sore, but otherwise doing alright. My throttle hand, particularly the index finger, is a little sore. I guess I've lost whatever callous I needed and a new one is being formed. I unload my dirty laundry and unpack my tent to air out and to dry. I grab a snack and once again, have little trouble getting to sleep. That's what I call a full day's riding. 14 hours and 637 miles including PCH from Santa Cruz to Morro Bay.

As I write this (the next day, first day of recuperation), I'm already planning my next adventure.