Biking through California

August 2 - 8 2014

Yes, it has been a very long time since I have taken the time to update this blog.  This is mostly due to our penchant for SOSDD - Same old Stuff, Different day.  We've been to Flying Flags, Pismo, back to Flying Flags, back to Pismo . . . well, you get the idea.  There simply was nothing new and exciting to report . . . until now.  Let's rewind back to May of this year.  Many of you know that we enjoy riding motorcycles, including doing a fair amount of riding in honor of our military with the Patriot Guard Riders (you can look them up on the internet if you're interested in knowing more about us).  For the last few years we've been riding a Honda VT1100C - a cruiser style motorcycle with a windscreen and saddle bags - what in common parlance is known as a 'bagger'.  It was a great bike and we took a few extended trips on it, Big Bear, Camp Pendleton, Julian, Ventura.  However that bike, as fun as it might be, was never meant for truly long range riding.  A hundred miles was about the limit of my endurance before my cheeks completely fell asleep.  Believe me, when your cheeks fall asleep, it's really hard to enunciate . . . but I digress.

A number of years ago, while heading up Hwy 395 to go camping, I stopped at a rest stop known as Coso Oso junction.  While there, a couple of Honda Goldwings came rolling up.  It was a beautiful day and being the lifelong motorcycle nut that I am, it struck me what a WONDERFUL way to see the Sierras!  I was hooked from that moment on and, as part of my bucket list, I determined that one day that would be me.  Of course, heading up that way on our VT1100C wouldn't have worked very well . . . we might have made it as far as Adelanto or so before our cheeks went to sleep.  So at the end of last May, we purchased a 2006 Honda Goldwing.  41,000 miles, equipped with CB radio, AM-FM-AUX, cruise control (yes, real cruise NOT a throttle lock), GPS system, anti-lock brakes, heated seats, heated hand grips, intercom system and 1800 CCs of pure power.  With King and Queen seats (heated as previously mentioned), this is the bike that can take us where we want to go.  We are even considering riding the Washington DC next year . . . we'll see about that.  Anyhow, here's the new ride:

The title of this post is "Biking through California", so let's get to the good part, shall we?  While on the road for seven days, we traveled California and Nevada, covering a total of 1,257 miles.  The longest leg of our journey was 320 miles, traveled on Wednesday the 6th.  Most days were 200 miles or so (or much less) so as to keep us from being too burned out with the ride.  We stayed away from the mega hiways as much as possible and logged only 150 or so miles total on interstates.  The rest were 1 or 2 lane roads, much of it through some of the most beautiful scenery in this great country - from the desert to the rugged mountains - the Sierra to the west and the White Mountains to the east, through the lush valleys, to the wooded slopes of Tahoe, over the rolling hills of the western San Joaquin, and down along the rugged, gorgeous coastline of northern central California.

But of course, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, or in our case by starting the engine.  We took off from our home in Whittier, CA. on Saturday the 2nd of August and headed towards San Bernardino, over the Cajon Pass and into the high desert.  Although anticipating some warm weather through this portion of the trip, neither of us was really prepared for the 97 degree heat that we encountered.  It's a good thing that our bike has air conditioning, otherwise we would have melte . . . . oh yeah, that's right.  No AC . . . just a lot of wind.  Did I mention that it was 97 degrees?  So guess what temperature the wind was?  Yep.  97 degrees.  By the time we arrived a Pearsonville and stopped for gas and lunch, we were pretty much feeling like the Wild Hogs when they arrived at the diner after having run out of gas in the middle of the desert.  Yes . . . you in the back . . . I can see you waving your hand.  You have a question?  Oh . . . you don't understand the Wild Hogs reference?  You haven't seen the movie??  Shame on you!  Go to RedBox and rent it now!  We'll wait for you to catch up.

Okay, all caught up now?  Then allow me to proceed.  It was HOT!  We arrived in Lone Pine in the early afternoon (a very HOT afternoon, in case you weren't paying attention) and checked into the Lone Pine Budget Inn.  It was an okay place I guess, plus we were able to meet up with a couple of other guys that were on a long distance bike trip.  We swapped stories for a while, each of us complaining that it was HOT.  By the way . . there is NOTHING in Lone Pine worth seeing other than the Film Museum on the south end of town.  More about that later.  Even though there is NO REASON to visit Lone Pine other than that museum, we still saw the highest motel prices of anywhere we visited.  People in that town have to be smokin' some whacky tabakey (or they found the peote) to charge the prices they do.

By the way, here's a couple of boring pictures of the road on the way to Lone Pine:

 

After resting for a little while and getting settled in our room, we decided to head down to the film museum.  It's proper name is The Beverly and Jim Rogers Lone Pine Film History Museum.  Whew, that's a mouthful!  Before I go any further I must say that this place is well worth the visit.  The charge to wander through their somewhat modest (although growing) display is well worth it and you will be doing yourself a favor to avail yourself of their wonderful hospitality.  In the early days of film, beginning with the silent era, many films were shot in the Alabama Hills just above Lone Pine.  The location is ideal for a number of reasons, one of which is the unique formations of strata to be found in the vicinity.  Another very important reason, especially for the early days of film, is that it is relatively local to Hollyweird.  Early western film stars such as Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, etc., made many of their films here.  The museum strives to document this history with memoribilia from that bygone era.  Again, well worth the visit.  On the way out of the parking lot, I ran over a piece of gravel or something.  You know that 'pop' sound when you run over a little rock?  More on that later.

Dinner was a nice Mexican feast . . . well, it was Mexican anyway . . . sort of.  Okay, okay . . . it was overpriced, under flavored and the waitress was missing all of her front teeth.  Or is that teef?  But it filled the hole.  The iced tea was very good though and the lady wifout teef kept my glass full the whole time.  Sorry, I didn't take a picture of the restaurant and don't recall the name.  I just didn't see the need . . .

Did I mention that Saturday was unbearably hot?  We wanted to get an early start on Sunday morning so that we could beat the heat, so as I am accustomed, we were up at the crack of . . . . RAIN!  OH NO!!  Rain!!  Now, that is an eventuality that we didn't plan for.  After consulting the internet, our smart phones and the television (weather channel), we decided that sitting around hoping that the rain would quit was pretty much hopeless.  Side note:  it just now occurs to me that the Goldwing has a weather channel that gives local conditions . . . and we never remembered to use it.  So anyhow, we saddled up in the driving rain and headed north.  Hmmm . . . . what's that little wobble in the front end?  I don't remember ever feeling that on this bike before.  It smoothes out around 40-45, so it must not be much.  Press on . . . through the rain . . . finally running out of it about the time we pass Big Pine, CA, a small town between Lone Pine and Bishop.  I have many fond memories of camping and fishing with my folks up the canyon above Big Pine . . . but that's another story and is probably interesting only to me.

Finally dry going through Bishop, we decided to stop for breakfast.  Jack's Restaurant in Bishop on Main street towards the north end of town is a good place to stop if you're ever in the area.

Moving along, we ran up 395, stopping for gas in Mammoth.  That darned wobble in the front end has me a little worried.  I stuck the bike up on the center stand and spun the front wheel, just to make sure we weren't losing a bearing or a front tire.  Nothing wrong that I can see . . .

On up the hill to Lee Vining.  What a wonderful spot.  Soon after Angel and I got married, we spent a long weekend at Murphy's Motel in Lee Vining.  Although she had been to the Sierra's when she was younger, I have taken great pride in expanding those horizons for her, together sharing adventures in places old and new.  I never tire of seeing the look on her face when she is introduced to a beauty that she had not previously been exposed to.  Priceless . . . .

Lee Vining overlooks Mono Lake (not Moan-O, it's pronounced Mon-O).  There is quite a history to the lake which I will not go into here.  However, suffice to say that the greed of little men in Los Angeles has threatened the beauty of this place.  THAT should tell you all you need to know concerning how I feel about Mulholland.  (look it up!)

Leaving Lee Vining, we ran into a traffic jam.  Traffic was dead stopped, a very unusual thing while traveling through this part of the state.  After crawling along for a half hour (we had been informed via CB radio that there was a traffic collision), we came upon the source of the back up.  An Audi, driven by a tourist from San Francisco had turned left in front of a Harley Davidson, resulting in a horrific crash, the aftermath of which we viewed as we slowly made our way past the carnage.  I wondered if the crash were fatal, the motorcycle having been demolished, but didn't find out until days later that the rider, a 59 year old man from Nevada had indeed succumbed to his injuries.  It was a very sobering moment, seeing his shoes and personal effects littering the hiway, especially since his mode of transportation, not to mention the device of his demise, we shared in common.  Saying a silent prayer for our own safety (but for the grace of God, there go I), we pressed forward.

We arrived in Bridgeport, CA before noon, stopping to get a quick cuppa and walk around for a while.  Of course, momma found an antique store.  And of course, she found a trinket to buy.  :-)  Here's momma taking a rest beside the highway.  She was cold, wet and miserable, not even bothering to get off of our iron horse:

The next stop was Genoa, NV.  After a nice ride along the Walker River, we arrived in time for a late lunch at this very historic settlement.  Although I was a little disappointed with the "modern" look of the town, there were a couple of old buildings that have survived for more than 150 years.  One is the Genoa Saloon, which has stood since before the American civil war.  Here's the saloon:

 

Yes, that's me in the second picture.  And no, I'm not fat.  I'm just big bone-ded.  We had a delightful lunch at a little place across the street, adding to my already expanded girth.  While in Genoa, we spotted this very unusual three wheeler.  While not a fan of three wheelers (nothin' wrong with 'em, just not my bag), the odd look of this caught my eye.  Anyone know anything about this machine?

 

Time to saddle up and head for our destination, Virginia City, which will be our home for the next couple of days.  I have been to Virginia City before, but the last time was probably at least 30 years ago, so needless to say, I didn't remember much.  Angel had never been, so this would be a nice little exploration for both of us.  Our lodging was with the Virgina City Motel, which turned out to be a wonderfully quaint little 'motor inn' about a half mile from the center of the main part of town.  I must warn one and all, if you ever plan to visit this little burg, take food with you to microwave in your room . . . . or as an alternative, take PLENTY of cash.  This place, although a lot of fun to visit, is the BIGGEST tourist rip-off I think I have ever encountered . . . and remember, this is coming from a couple who honeymooned in Tombstone, AZ, Sedona and the Grand Canyon.  REALLY?  You want HOW MUCH for that!!??  Yes, I know that I squeek when I walk.  I realize that cheapskate is a term normally reserved for people must less thrifty than I . . . regardless, lunch consisting of one order of chili fries and one sandwich totals nearly 40 bucks?  I'm thinking the proprietors of these joints should be wearing a gun and a mask.  At the very LEAST, they owed me a kiss . . .

Rants aside, Virginia City was a fun place to visit.  We went to the Red Dog for dinner (pizza and salad at OUTRAGEOUS prices) and were treated to a very nice three piece jazz band.  We visited the Old Washoe (look it up on the I-net) for a "ghost" tour (yeah, right), a couple of museums and the cemetery.  If you've read our other blogs, you know that for us, no trip to an old town is complete without going to visit the cemetery.  If you're paying attention, it tells the story of the town and sparks a sense of mystery concerning those who have lived and died long before we were born.  Here's a bunch of pics, in no particular order:

 

From the photos above, you can probably deduce that it was again raining.    We didn't melt however, so we were tip top and ready to hit the road again on Wednesday morning.  Today would be the most ambitious of our rides, traveling roughly 320 miles from Virginia City to Monterey, CA.  First our route - hiway 50 through Tahoe (oh, what a beautiful ride) to Placerville, then south on 49 through Sutter City (remember Sutter from Sutter's Mill fame?  The mill is a ways north of this town) then onto 88 west, down I-99 then west again through Pecheco pass.

The rain had let off during the night, so we decided we'd better saddle up and get while the gettin' was good, leaving Virginia City behind fairly early in the morning.  Dang . . . there's that wobble again . . . what the heck is that?  The front tire looks fine, the wheel weights are still there, the bearings seem smooth . . .

After gassing up in Carson City, we headed up towards Tahoe.  It was very unfortunate that the day was so gloomy, considering the beauty of this place.  We did however, still get to experience the absolute wonder of this place.  If there is a more gorgeous place on God's green earth, I've certainly never seen it.  Think about this:  who's the gardener?  Who maintains all of this beauty?  I'll give you a hint . . . it ain't us.  We don't have the power to maintain it.  Here's a few pics, but take note that we weren't here to take pictures.  We were here to marvel in the glory of this place:

 

We stopped for a quick breakfast at Carrow's (Steph should be proud of us :-) and then plowed along, moving down out of the mountains and into the foothills.  First stop, Placerville.  We've spent some time here before, so there weren't any big surprises.  Love, love, LOVE the historic gold rush towns along hiway 49.  If you've never had the opportunity to visit, do yourself a favor, especially if you enjoy and appreciate that history of settling in California, along with the gold rush.  Here's some pics of this quaint, historic little town:

The picture above reminds me that I did not tell you about the wild horses we saw in Virginia City.  Oh well, that segment has passed, so you'll have to do without :-)  Next stop, Monterey.  What is that wobble in the front end!!??

Monterey is a toney town along the California coast and is home to the famous Cannery Row, used in the writings of John Steinbeck (a fascinating figure and well worth studying, along with reading his works).  Angel and I spent some time here last year in conjunction with our trip to San Francisco.  We were here for only one night, so there's not much to tell.  We did however, find a wonderful place on the wharf for dinner:

 

So, that front end was still wobbling on the way to Monterey.  We took a little rest at a place named Casa de Fruita (Casa de Fruita gives me Casa de Gasa), having a bit of water to slake our thirst and walking around to relieve some of the stiffness.  So, I decide to lean down and look at the rear tire.  It seemed a little soft to me on the way over the pass, so I thought I should have a look see.  The right side of the tire was showing a very strange wear pattern, lots of cupping and appearing to be nearly worn through to the cord.  Uh oh . . . that's not good . . . I decided to go ahead and ride on into Monterey.  When we arrived, I took a little harder look at it.  Sure enough, we were starting to show cord.  Our hotel was next to a gas station, so I pulled over there to check the tire pressure.  25 lbs.  No big deal?  Yes it was!  That tire is supposed to run at 41 psi!  I aired the tire up, but the damage was done.  We were now showing cord.  It turns out that we had a run flat tire and we were "running flat".  I whipped out the tablet, went on line and found a motorcycle shop that was just a couple of miles from us.  The next morning, we arrived there about the time they were opening.  I was worried that they might not have a tire for our beast of a motorcycle, but sure enough, they had one in stock.  And just to keep up the spirit of our vacation, they charged us an arm and a leg!  Nice guys . . . but they did get us back on the road in less than an hour, so I guess I shouldn't complain.  Oh, and that wobble?  It was gone.  We had been running on a fun flat tire from Lone Pine, to Genoa, to Virginia City, to Monterey.  The Lord was surely looking out for us . . .

Next, we're off to Morro Bay.  I absolutely love this little area and would live here in a second, given the right economic conditions.  The town is just big enough that not everybody would know your business, but just small enough that you know where everything of importance is.  Nice . . . the Embarcadero is the main attraction in this town, a series of shops and restaurants along the water front, many of which offer outdoor dining.  We chose a place named Blue Sky Bistro for dinner.  We liked it so well that we had breakfast there as well!

On Thursday morning, we were off again, our destination Solvang, CA.  Solvang is a Dutch town, full of history and certainly, the colorful air of foreign lands.  We spend many of our Thanksgivings just 4 or 5 miles away in the little town of Buellton, home of Flying Flags RV park, one of our favorite haunts when RVing.  Our lodging for the night was the King Frederick Hotel, right on Copenhagen street, which you can probably guess, is the heart of the tourist area.  This little area is home to businesses such as "As Seen on TV", leather shops, trinket places, native American outlets and a number of fun places to eat.  Hmmm . . . . it is almost beginning to sound to me as though we were on a food vacation . . . but I guess it's just that the food, at least in many cases, was the highlight of the trip :-)  Here's a few pics of Solvang including our dining pleasure for the evening:

 

So there you have it.  I could go on and on about the finer points of the trip, but suffice to say that we had a blast.  We saw old placed from a new perspective, put a bunch of miles on our bike - one of the things that we enjoy most - spent time together, just the two of us, had wonderful dinners (and breakfasts) together and generally just had a good time.  I hope you enjoyed at least a part of this blog.  We'll chat with you next time!