Windsor to Santa Barbara (380 miles)

It's Monday, February 2nd. Marin and Sonoma Counties have sure changed. When I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s, Marin wasn’t as wealthy as it is now. There were still ordinary houses populated by ordinary people. And I suppose there are still a few of those around. But mostly I saw houses I had remembered as middle-class in appearance upgraded, gentrified and no doubt owned by people who can afford million dollar mortgages. It’s lost its rural feel, and the sense of being someplace where just plain folks could live. I felt like a stranger in a strange land. I just don’t grok the changes, nor do I want to.

I had a wonderful visit with my cousin Tim, his wife Yvette and their kids Austin and Sirelle. Sirelle whispered to her dad that she’d like me to take her to school on my Harley, when I swing back through. Coolness points for her, I guess! I was tired from my ride and stayed a day longer, thereby getting to watch the Superbowl. I’m not a huge football fan, but it was entertaining. I was really hoping the Cardinals would win, but alas, that was not to be.

I set out around 10 a.m. or so, heading down 101. I loved riding across the Golden Gate Bridge and seeing that beautiful San Francisco skyline. It would have been nice if it hadn’t been so hazy. I took 19th Avenue out to 280, 85 to 101 and kept going south. Another beautiful, warm day, little traffic, green hills and gorgeous scenery. It’s been a long time since I headed south on this route – maybe 15 years? Mostly I’ve flown to So Cal, so the changes along the route were quite pronounced – many more houses, large developments and malls. What used to be all farm land, isn’t. Even tiny little Soledad got upgraded.

Going past San Ardo and the oil pumps, I remembered them having antennas so they looked like giant grasshoppers, feeding away. No more antennas. I guess the oil company lost its sense of humor, which is hard to understand given their profit margins. We used to ride the Coast Daylight from Oakland to visit my grandparents in Santa Barbara, and I always looked forward to hitting San Ardo. Those were real trains in those days, with comfy seats, and real food served by black waiters in crisp white linen jackets. I can still remember the Southern Pacific china, the silverware with the logo, the kindness of the staff. Amtrak just doesn’t cut it.

The trip was mostly uneventful, except for two things. It was the first time I had trash thrown at me, and the first time I had a car with blacked-out windows driving next to me for no apparent reason. The nice thing about my bike is it puts out a lot of torque and horsepower, so I lost them behind me. I don’t like having cars riding along next to me. Smells like trouble.

It was too beautiful a ride to be bothered by the meanness of small minded people. I got to my Aunt Mary’s house at about 5:30 p.m. It is so good to see her! And I’m looking forward to exploring Santa Barbara.

Marin County

I didn't ride as much yesterday, which was actually a good break. I took Sir Francis Drake from San Anselmo out to Point Reyes. I have to say that the stretch of twisty road that goes along Taylor Creek and by Samuel P. Taylor Park has to be some of the worst pavement I've ever ridden. I don't believe it's been repaved since it was first put in. It was so bad that I could hear my gremlin bell ringing over the sound of my loud pipes and through earplugs. That's bad! It also required intense concentration. The bike handles differently with a heavy pack on it, and there was no way I was going over the speed limit.

Point Reyes was gorgeous. The green grass is coming in, it was sunny, the pavement improved, the ocean was deep blue, the cows were content. Stopped at Drake's Beach for a bit, then headed toward Petaluma, also on back roads. Coming down into Petaluma, there's one stretch of the road that is very, very twisty with a steep hairpin turn posted at 15 mph. And it was thick with motorcyclists off to the side, the police measuring out skid marks, a hole in the fence and a departing ambulance. Talk about sobering. It gives me the willies when I see something like this. And it probably makes me a better rider, being more cognizant of my countersteering. My guess is he came into the turn too fast. I hope he's okay.

I'm at my cousin Tim's house, getting ready to watch the Superbowl with them and then heading to my friend Maureen's house. It's a beautiful day, and life is good.

Medford to Corte Madera (367 miles)

Today was the reason why I ride. It was foggy, cold and icy on the passes so I waited to leave Medford until about 11:30 or so. Once I got up and out of the Medford valley, I encountered perfectly clear skies, warm sun and the best riding conditions one could hope for. Yesterday's misery made today even more perfect.

There are perfect moments where the rhythm of the turns, the thrum of the motor, the warmth of the sun, the hawk flying overhead, the beauty of the forest, all come together and you feel a sense of flow that is unlike anything else. It is seductive, a sensation of oneness with the road, the bike and the world. I want more. This is why I ride, for those perfect moments, the sense of freedom. The Siskiyous were incredible.

I-5 becomes distinctly straight and boring from Redding on. But that's okay, 'cause I got to shed my layers of fleece and open up the throttle. Also in Redding was an impressive display of law enforcement on the other side of the freeway, which had been shut down after they arrested an apparent bank robber. Since most of the CHP seemed to be congregated in the vicinity, I figured they were otherwise occupied thereby letting little ol' me ride a steady 75-80 mph.

God, it's good to be warm. Tomorrow, I'm riding out to Point Reyes and maybe up Mount Tamalpais if there's time. You see the world from a different perspective on a bike, and I can't wait to smell the ocean.

Bellevue to Medford (450 miles)

I discovered something today. It's really, really stupid to take the electric gloves and not take the electric jacket. Specifically, I froze my ass off. It was foggy and 40 degrees through most of Oregon, with occasional sun breaks. Riding at 75 mph, I figure the wind chill made the temps down to something like 20 degrees or so. My toes were numb, my arms were cold and I finally broke down and bought more fleece at the local Joe's in Lake Oswego. And foot warmers. I could barely move after assembling all the layers - long sleeve tee shirt, turtleneck fleece, new fleece jacket, Cordura Harley jacket with liner. I gained 20 pounds I didn't need to gain just in layers. I felt like the kid in The Christmas Story; I'm quite sure if I'd fallen, I couldn't have gotten up. But I was warmer.

I also discovered that trying to listen to in iPod while riding at 75 mph and with loud pipes is a fruitless exercise. I may have to buy one of those Bluetooth helmet rigs so that I can listen to tunes. I will say that the Garmin Zumo 550 GPS is one of the best purchases I've ever made. For you non-riders, it's a motorcycle-specific GPS with large type so that leather-clad fingers can use it. Very cool. Very useful. This is its maiden voyage.

Other observations of the day: There are a lot of sheep in Oregon. Cute little lambkins, gamboling about. Man, they're good with garlic and rosemary rub! There are a lot of twisty passes requiring intense concentration. My brain hurts. There are idiots who drive U-Hauls and think it's a good idea to pull into my lane going about 40 mph, when I'm going about 75 mph, thereby giving me the opportunity to practice my braking skillls. And exercising my middle finger.

When I pulled up to Thor and Farida's place in Medford, it took about half an hour before I stopped feeling as if I was vibrating. We had a lovely Italian dinner and talked about old times. I've known Thor for 32 years. Gack. How did we get to be this old? Tomorrow, I have another cold morning to look forward to as I head over the Siskiyous and into California. And the further south I go, the warmer it will be. And Richard is being a sweetie and UPS'ing my electric jacket and electric socks to me in Santa Barbara so that I won't be miserable on the way home. Thanks, honey!

The First Solo Bike Trip

I'm not working, and I'm tired of looking at the same four walls. It's been a long time since I last visited with some of my friends and family. So I recently got the idea of doing a solo trek to see them, head toward warmer weather and have my own little adventure. I have a window of decent weather and I'm taking off tomorrow to ride from Bellevue to Santa Barbara and back. The total mileage will be somewhere around 2,300 miles, plus side trips. I'm going to write about what I see and experience along the way. I'm leaving early on Thursday, January 29th, heading to Medford as my first stop.