Humboldt SP - January 30-31, 2007

It had been a month since I went on a ride. Sure, I guess technically, a morning ride over the "hill" (aka the Ortega Highway) with Jim Bud to have breakfast at the Rainbow Oaks cafe counts as a ride. But it was more than that since my ignition switch wiring decided to fail. Click here for the whole gruesome tale. As educational as that adventure was, it didn't really "fix" my need for a ride. I was able to clear out a couple of days during the week since the previous and subsequent weekends were already committed, so I threw my solo tent and mattress on the back of my bike and headed north.

The forecast called for "showers" in Southern and Central California. This term is not as foreboding as "rain". "Showers" didn't look as ominous on the Doppler Radar and the forecast specified 50% chance or less. This meant I was "good to go". I left the house right at 8 am and got through L.A. pretty easily. I still had to lane share a little bit between LAX and Hwy 101 on the I-405, but that is to be expected at that time of day. I made a quick stop in Camarillo for a "clothing adjustment". Making this stop meant I could delay my first fuel stop (originally scheduled for Buellton) to occur at Santa Maria. After refueling, I continued north on Hwy 101 until San Luis Obispo where I exited at Highway 1.

Although overcast, there was no fog and little traffic. Another delightful coast ride. I stop for a cup of coffee at Ragged Point Inn. I think the proprietors there are starting to recognize me. I continue north through Big Sur and get fuel once again in Carmel. I finally get a chance to see a pair of California Condors. They're quite a spectacle. It was definitely worth the stop.





Without another object in these photos to illustrate scale, it's hard to tell just how large these birds are. To give you an idea, they have an eight foot wingspan!
click on images for larger version

Although I made good time (7 hrs, 15 mins), it's still 3:15pm with less than two hours of light left. I know if I continue north, I'll stick with Hwy 101 after dark, so I decided to take the coast into SF. Due to the recent slide, I hadn't ridden this section of the coast highway in probably a year. Even though it made this day ride longer, it was definitely worth it.

I manage to get through SF pretty easily. I stop in Petaluma for a burger and call Nancy to let her know I'm doing O.K. I decide to try to hook up my GPS since reading my map at night was not going very well. The GPS I carry is more for emergency purposes. I'm one of those who think having the display on all the time is a distraction and can be dangerous. My version is a Bluetooth Garmin (GPS-10) which partners with my PDA. The one problem I had is getting both devices in my map window of my tank bag while routing the power cords to them. My map window now has two new slits in the bottom of it. I have a little difficulty getting the PDA connected to the charger. It doesn't go as smooth as it should when a few of the prongs get bent the wrong way. I eventually get it connected, but my stop ends up taking more than an hour.

Once I get north of Santa Rosa, the traffic becomes more rare. 101 is less like a freeway and more like a two lane divided road. At my next gas stop, I notice that the electrical connector to my tank bag is warmer than usual. In fact, it's pretty hot. This is my last gas stop for the day and I soon forget the connector temperature. That's because I keep seeing signs along the road that say "ICY". Rain is not a problem. I really don't like the wind, but I'll tolerate it. But ice? C'mon. Ice belongs in a glass. Like iced tea. Fortunately, I don't encounter any ice on the road. The air is pretty dry even if it's a little cool out.

I reach the campsite, Burlington Campground. It's the only one open in Humboldt State Park this time of year. The cool temps (overnight low of 37^oF) and the twisty road exacerbated the fatigue which results in more frequent stops. By the time I reach the campsite it's nearly midnight. The good news is that the campground is nearly deserted and I just about have my pick of campsites. I take one loop around the campground and find a site that's suitable.

It's difficult pitching a new tent at night, particularly a non-freestanding one. I like the solo tent, a Eureka Solitaire, because the poles break down small enough to pack in my trunk. When I bought it, I had two concerns. One was ease of pitching because I knew that every time I would pitch it, I would be exhausted and wouldn't have a lot of reserve energy for an engineering project. I did a test pitch in my front yard (on a Sunday afternoon in broad daylight) and it seemed to go fairly smoothly. However, the scenario was a little different after riding 750 miles and 16 hours and then trying to pitch it in the dark. Was there a moon that night? Sure. But I was surrounded by 300 foot tall Redwood trees! No moon. No GPS. No cell service. Kewl, right? I thought I had a great idea when I turned on my motorcycle headlight to help. However, after about 15 minutes, I noticed that the headlight was getting dim, so I turned it off. I finally got stuffed into the tent and was "out" pretty quickly.

The route north

I woke up about 10 minutes before my alarm went off and was packed and ready to ride by 5:30 am. One problem. I press the starter button and I get nothing. I mean nothing. I push the bike to a safe spot and start searching for a land line. I find where one is supposed to be, at the campground entrance. I see the location where the phone used to be, but is no longer there. Great. Weott is only a mile away. That's not very far, right? I walk for a while and never get to Weyott. Methinks the road sign is slightly off. I turn around and return to the park. I see a light on at the Visitor Center. The sign says the center doesn't open until 10. I knock on the door but there is no answer. I walk around the campground and ask a couple of fishermen if they can give me a jump start. I tell them that I have no battery cables (next on my emergency kit shopping list, along with a gasoline siphon). They say they don't have any, either. One asks "Is it automatic?" I say "No". He responds "Can't you push it?" I tell him that fuel injection needs power to push the fuel. They nod.

I return to the visitor center and knock on the door one more time, this time with a little more conviction. An older gentlemen comes to the door. Apparently, he's a tour guide, preparing for an upcoming tour. I ask if I can use his phone and he shows me to his office. The service, offered through my Progressive insurance, takes all of my information and responds that someone will be there within 45 minutes. Of course, I don't believe this. After all, I'm in the middle of the Redwood Forest! 45 minutes. Gimme a break. I return to the bike and start packing things away. I know I've got plenty of time, so what to do? Brew some Starbuck's, of course. The sun is now up and I can enjoy the Redwoods a little bit. I get a chance to examine a Redwood up close and personal. It's amazing how the bark feels so spongy. To me, they feel more alive than other trees with the hard bark. I finish my last cup when I see the tow truck coming into the park. Holy cow, it's not much more than 45 minutes. I can't believe it. He pulls up to my bike and we connect the cables. We wait a few minutes and try to start the bike. Still nothing. It's really dead. I try it a couple more times with about 10 minutes between each time. No luck either time. The tow truck driver offers a suggestion. He asks "Is it automatic?" I tell him not only is it not automatic, but it's fuel injected and needs the power to push the fuel. He suggests that, if there is a little juice in the battery, that should be enough to power the fuel pump while we push the bike down the hill. I convince him to be patient and we tried it again. Finally, it fires, but dies again because I didn't give the cold engine enough gas. We wait another five minutes and try again, this time successfully. I'm concerned about stopping the bike someplace other than a BMW dealer. Unfortunately, the closest one is 150 miles away and I already have 150 miles on this tank of gas. The tow truck driver gives me two gallons, which might enable me to reach the dealership in Santa Rosa. The tow truck driver follows me out of the park and I head south. I leave the park almost five hours after I was packed and ready to go.

I miss the opportunity to ride the northern section of PCH, part of my original plan, because I have no idea how good of a battery I have. My fuel makes me decide to stop for gas before Santa Rosa. When I fill up, I take over six gallons which means I had about a half gallon left with 23 miles to go to the dealership. On a good day, I get 42 mpg, so the choice was a good one, particularly since the bike fired right up after getting fuel. In fact, I have not had any battery problems since.

I stop for lunch and to call Nancy in Petaluma. It's mid afternoon and I'm already tired. I decide to get a room (there's a Quality Inn right next to the burger joint). I check in at 2:30 pm, take a shower and take a nap. I wake up, pack and on the road by 7:30. I miss the bulk of the traffic through SF. Since it's dark, I decide to stay on 101 for the rest of the route back. I stop for gas again in Morgan Hill, just south of San Jose. I also call Nancy to let her know my strategy.

I start getting tired again just north of Paso Robles, but I stop for a Frappacino and catch a second wind. I get gas again and a cup of coffee in San Luis Obispo. When I turn the bike off, I nearly panic when I see the bike's clock read 00:00. Crap! I have another broken electrical wire!. Of course, shortly after that I realize it's midnight.

The rest of the trip is pretty uneventful. Traffic is great rolling through Los Angeles at 3 am. I pull into the driveway at 4:30. O.K., so the trip wasn't Iron Butt worthy. After all, nearly 1,500 miles in less than 48 hours, this was no BunBurner (1,500 miles in 36 hours) or SaddleSore (1,000 miles in 24 hours), but this ride was probably the most grueling ride I've ever done. The three, four hour "naps" never quite restored my energy. In fact, it takes me several days to get back to "normal". I have no idea how those 100 souls do it when they compete in the Iron Butt Rally. Note to self: when planning future rides and considering the three components endurance riding, twisty roads and camping, select no more than two of the three.

The route south

If someone asks about a campout location within a day ride of Southern California, I know a spot!

Yeah, I know. I should have done a loop around the neighborhood before pulling into the garage. Sigh...