Clear Lake 2006

My close association with reality will not permit me to forget the first half of the day getting out of L.A. The only event that was noteworthy is the fact that I had apparently not set enough sag in my front shock. This error became exacerbated when loading the bike with two full side cases, top truck and one beautiful passenger all of which further unloaded the front end. As I was negotiating through five lanes of traffic (nearly standing still) on the 405, I was trying to move from the number 1 lane to the exit ramp so that I could catch the 710 north. At one instance, I downshifted and tried a quick lane change. Unfortunately, the bike wouldn't turn because the front wheel wasn't touching the pavement. What an annoyance. I had to decelerate in order from rear ending the car in front of me and to get that front tire back on the pavement to effect a momentum change. Nancy got a little excited, but we were able to execute the maneuver successfully.

Otherwise, the day would be remembered as one that became perfect just north of Cambria where the winds diminished into non existence. The skies were crystal clear blue with not one cloud in sight. The ocean was a deep blue accented with just the right amount of white caps. The road was also clear, a point which was particularly amazing since today was only two removed from the Fourth of July holiday. The air temperature didn't have to be a degree warmer or a degree cooler.

It was great. I could ride as slow or as fast as I wanted, totally unencumbered by the traffic. Nancy was enjoying it as well as I because there were no(t many) nudges to slow down. The little traffic I encountered soon became small objects in my mirror.

We even had (took) the opportunity to stop and admire the coastline. We arrive at our cabin in Big Sur, check in and ride into "town" for dinner. I mention that we only violated the famous Eight Hour Rule by 30 minutes. I mention that we could have made it if we had not made that extra stop. The response was "What extra stop?" I guess it's a "Rule" for a reason. We return to our campsite and settle in to our knotty pine environment, Nancy reading and I writing. No Internet service. Darn.

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Nancy enjoying the coast (and the rest break)	PCH. What more can I say?

Nancy arriving at our cabin in Big Sur.	Bill (still) unloading the bike.

Today started as an extension of the previous. We left the cabin a few minutes after 8 following the coast highway around Monterey Bay through Santa Cruz and north to Half Moon Bay where we find that PCH is closed 8 miles ahead due to a landslide. We are diverted inland along Hwy 92 to San Bruno where we stop for lunch and a new map (my previous one already had all the good roads highlighted). We turn north on I-880 where we encounter the Bay Area weekend "escapees". The traffic continues to be terrible as we turn north/east on I-80. We finally cross the Carquinez Bridge and we catch some clean air. We soon turn north on Hwy 29 towards Napa. Traffic once again becomes a nightmare. Napa Valley soon turns into two lines of 30 miles per hour (maximum) bumper-to-bumper cars going both directions. Even if I were riding solo and in an aggressive mood, I wouldn't have been able to make much better time than we did. Nancy recalls seeing a sign that read "Calistoga 18 miles". She thinks to herself that, at this rate, it will take an hour. In reality, it takes two. We finally reach Calistoga at 5:30 (we were trying to get to the Edgewater Resort before 5), stop and call my sister Carol to let her know we were close, but we were going to be later than we expected.

The remaining route, Hwy 29 to Hwy 175 to Hwy 29 again, was nearly worth the torture through Napa Valley. Hwy 29 north of Calistoga is a wonderful collection of gentle sweepers and not too tight twisties. We eventually arrive at camp. I drop Nancy off (gently) to visit with Carol while I check in. After taking care of business, I join Carol, Nancy and Bonnie, Carol's traveling companion of late (last two trips to California, anyway). Carol fixes a dynamite dinner on the grill. We spend the rest of the evening relaxing and getting caught up.

This is one of Nancy's favorite types of touring days. That's right, she gets to sleep in and no motorcycle riding! I had previously requested that Carol teach me how to fish so that I could occasionally have an alternative to canned chili. Of course, she does this the only way a world renowned educator would and that is hire a guide with a boat. We meet Craig at 7 am and we are immediately off on a different kind of adventure. It must be less than 10 minutes before Craig has a large mouth bass in the boat. Within about a half an our, I have my first one in the boat. Soon, I have my second one and by the end of the lesson, the three of us have eight in the live well. We head back to the pier where the next part of the lesson takes place: cleaning the fish. We first tried filleting the fish, but we had an incredibly dull fillet knife.

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Bill's first fish	Almost looks like he knows what he's doing	Pretty good faker

Carol's first fish	I delegate the dirty work...	...but available for the pose

	You can see Clear across the Lake	Here's the part they don't put in the travel brochures

Bill bags another one	Bill studies the varying strategies of the educator and technician	Still more studying to do

O.K., now it's time to get dirty	It's really gross in here	Those dorsal bones are sharp!

Where's the closest fish market?	What the heck was I thinking?	Someone want to take over?

Nancy's wondering: "We rode 600 miles for this?"	After the fish dinner, Bill needs to get his 'Net fix.	Honey, can you turn off the damn computer so we can go to bed?

Craig then turned to the time tested "gut and gill" technique. While this is definitely an easier cleaning method, I was suspicious if this was the better way to prepare the fish. Craig told us to stuff the fish with peppers, onions and garlic while coating the outside with butter and wrapping with aluminum foil. He then instructed us to put the wrapped fish on the grill for at least 30 minutes each side. I'm not sure if it was because we were incredibly hungry by the time the fish, but the fish were really that good. Well, they were to me and Nancy, anyway. Carol isn't much of a fish eater and Bonnie was more than a little annoyed by the bones. Great lesson, Sis!

It's a little harder getting out of camp by 8. I'm not sure when I will see my sister again. This year has been great. We've seen each other four times in the last twelve months which probably equals the frequency for the last decade. Her retirement and getting back on two wheels has done wonders for our relationship.

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Nancy at the Point Arena Lighthouse	A view from the lighthouse	The Fresnel Lens, still in place. I guess the French were good for a few things.

	Point Arena Lighthouse

Trying to escape the heat and missing the section of the northern coast we missed on the way up, I point the Beemer west through Kelseyville to find Hwy 175. This is another wonderful section of road, between Hwy 29 and Hwy 101. It has great pavement and just about the right "tightness" of curves for me. Additionally, the views are terrific. At Hwy 101, we turn north (that's right, north) towards Ukiah where we take our first fluids exchange break. We then pick up Hwy 253 to Boonville on Hwy 128. Hwy 253 is another very nice road. We continue westward on a smaller, unnumbered road. This road is not very well maintained (some sections are without pavement), but after a slow and steady attack, we eventually arrive at the coast just south of Manchester. Prior to our arrival, we are quite aware of our proximity to the coast due to the sudden drop in temperature. Within a mile, the air temperature must have dropped fifteen degrees or more. The coast is engulfed in moderate fog and visibility is restricted. We stop for a break at Point Arena and take a tour of the lighthouse.

We continue south and have lunch in Gualala. Between Gualala and Bodega Bay, the traffic is bad enough to convince me to jump over to Hwy 101 at Bodega Bay. We follow 101 into San Francisco. Anyone who's ever tried to traverse SF knows what a pain it is. Sure, San Francisco is one of the most beautiful cities I've ever been in, but if you're just trying to get through, it's a nightmare. There are basically two ways (that I know of) to get through. After leaving the Golden Gate Bridge, you can continue on Hwy 101 through Fisherman's Wharf until you reach "Oh, no; not Van Ness!" street. That's how Nancy and I have renamed that street. It takes over an hour before we pick up the freeway again. I have eight bars on my engine temperature gage and consume a considerable amount of clutch life on the entrance ramp to the freeway. The other way is to follow Hwy 1 through Golden Gate Park. In hindsight, that would probably have been a better route. However, I've taken this route before and I recall saying to myself afterwards "I should have taken Van Ness".

We finally clear SF and pick up Hwy 17 into Monterey Bay. We pull into our cabin (yes, the same cabin) at Big Sur having achieved my goal of not changing to clear face shields. We grab a snack at the local grocery store and don't see 10 pm. This was a very long day.

We intentionally sleep in, Nancy wanting to "skip the alarm clock for just one day". We don't get up until a little after 7. We are packed and ready to go a little after 9 only to find some serious fog on the coast. It's a fairly high energy ride not only due to the limited visibility but also due to the fact that I'm trying to get back into town for a 6 pm meeting. As it turns out, the anxiety on this leg of the route was not particularly enjoyed by Nancy. We pick up the 101 at San Luis Obispo and essentially reverse our route into the L.A. Basin. We were both cringing at the potential traffic we were going to encounter on I-405. The section between I-10 and LAX is the worst section of freeway in the country. After riding through it, we both conclude that the traffic certainly could have been worse, a lot worse. We arrive home at 4:45 pm. Although I was successful in meeting the "Eight Hour Rule", I believe this is one of the instances when Nancy would have preferred that I violated it. I change, wash up and make my meeting, just a few minutes late.