Hello all. I’m alive, well and back in Eugene. Well, I’m here for at least another hour before I push off again to PDX. I want to meet a cute little tiny baby, and that means Elvira and I go back to work.

The End Of Phase One

Here is the route I took on the last day:

That’s 300 miles there, give or take a few. Not only that, the entire distance was done under a cover of costal storms and rain. I was rained on the entire way. I was also blown around by wind gusts quite a few times. At one point, I thought I was going to be blown off the road. My gear, which is very good, wasn’t even able to stand up to the onslaught. I was soaked. You could wring water out of my glove. My thermal layers underneath were damp and my jacket and pants were waterlogged in the most exposed areas.

While I’m glad to say that I made it, riding through all that isn’t something I would do again. I don’t think the danger was at a “you’re stupid for even trying this” level, but it was certainly palpable, more so than normal riding. During the course of my ride, many of you expressed your concerns and well wishes for my safety. I don’t think I appreciated all of that sentiment as much as I could have. Yesterday through that into a sharp relief. Thank you, and I promise to take it seriously at all times.

Hard To Handle, Or A Soundtrack For The Road

Another sentiment many of you expressed over the course of this report was your approval/enjoyment of the pictures. Message heard loud and clear. Less writing, more pictures. I got it, Jeez. Joking aside, I am happy with the shots I pulled off from my little 3Gs. I shouldn’t be though, I have used this phone to take pictures of all my recent trips and travels and it’s performed up to standard. It takes perfect pictures for my preferred method of presentation: surrounded by my stories.

That said, I don’t have pictures of the last leg. I wish I had a mountable, water-proof video camera because I am sure there were some sights that would have been thrill inducing to say the least. Alas, I do not so in order to provide you some entertainment on the level you’re expecting, I will instead talk about my soundtrack.

When I’m riding, I sing, a lot. I also tend to shout in glee (various whoo-hoos, yahs, ya-hahs and etc). This trip has been dominated by two or three songs, and let me tell you that they helped on my last leg.

Ok, here was my number one song for this trip. A little Otis Redding. That’s right, I’m bringing both soul and class. Testify:

I sing the above song a lot because it makes me feel like a bad ass. Another awesome song that I sang often was this little number by Jimi Hendrix:

That one comes to mind often as well, but for this trip it was prompted by certain road signs that are common on highways that change between one lane, two lane, divided highway and full freeway at times: Cross Traffic Ahead, ergo Jimi.

This next one will make you groan (more so if you’ve already started). This has been in my head a while because I am trying to make a karaoke duet happen. It will happen. THIS WILL HAPPEN:

“I got chills” just thinking about it.

Oh, The People You’ll Meet!

This trip has had it’s share of random encounters, and this portion of the ride was no different. However I think that the people I met this day helped me mentally more so than the others. The first I met at a rest stop near Brookings. By this point I was cold, soaked, shivering and approaching a mental limit. I also had to use the facilities, thanks to the fact that I sip water out of my Camelbak all day long. I was starting to look for side roads to pull off on, because in the smaller towns some places are stingy with the restrooms, but luckily I came across that comforting blue sign. I pulled in, got off the bike and walked like a zombie to the shelter of relief.

When I was done, I went to a covered area with information kiosks to assess my situation. I had some paper towels to dry my hands off enough to get them back into my gloves — side note, I don’t know if it was the humidity but it seemed impossible to get them dry. As I was thinking and wiping my hands, a septuagenarian gentleman walked past to the restroom. He saw me, stopped and did a double take and then continued on. A few minutes later he appeared at my side, in the kiosk area, also drying his hands. He simply said: “It’s a wet day for a ride”.

He wasn’t being sarcastic at all, this was a purely paternal statement. It was made more touching by the fact that he was fairly introverted and quiet. He didn’t say much, but he let me prattle on, nudging me along once in a while. Near the end of the conversation I said that I should probably just find a nice place to eat breakfast. He asked me to repeat myself, and then said: “Oh, breakfast. There’s a nice place about 3 miles up the road, The Whalehouse.” That was it. I donned my gear and got back on Elvira intent to make it there.

I did, and I was immediately glad once I got inside. It was pouring outside, but warm inside. The restaurant was a large open room, the walls were adorned with mounted and stuffed animal heads. In the corner there was a gas fireplace, one made up to look like a real fireplace. I made a beeline there and grabbed the table closest to. As I was taking off my wet gear, I met my second visitor of the day. This time it was a woman, of the same age range as the man at the rest stop.

Her first words to me were: “Hello! You must be so wet and cold. My husband died, we used to ride motorcycles too.” In that moment, I kind of melted. I sat by the fire, talked to her and the large group she was with (a local morning exercise group). I would frequently go stand by the fire, listening and soaking up the hospitality of the woman. She told me that her late husband and her had the chance to go to Europe to ride their motorcycle “all over”, among other things. She was great, and it was just what I needed. I stayed for an hour and a half and then was stubbornly determined to get back on the road.

Wind

I was heartened by my visits, steeled to the task of getting home; but on the list of things that could have stopped me, the wind gusts ranked high. The section between Brookings and Bandon was the worst. At one point I came out of the hills and around the corner to an ocean vista. I was leaving a wide left handed curve and transitioning into a tighter right handed curve. In that moment, a gust struck and I honestly didn’t know if I could keep control or not. I let instinct work over fear and pulled through but I was shaken. That happened 4 or 5 more times. By the time I got to Bandon I was ready for a rest again.

The ride from Bandon to Florence was less stressful, and by that time my mind was resolved to rolling with the punches. I started to sing again. After a brief pit stop in Florence, I found myself at a peak, knowing that I had accomplished what I had set out to do. Today was by far the roughest day on the road, but I came through in better shape than I assumed I would. Score.

Aftermath

So ends phase one of my vacation. Phase two begins as soon as I finish this post. I pack and head to PDX to meet little Sam, Samuelcito. I’m excited beyond words… until the next post of course.

fin

Hello again. I lit out of a very sunny San Francisco today at 09:00 hours. I arrived in a very rainy Eureka at 16:15 hours, or so. These are those stories, and more. You’re welcome.

Trivia, Trivia, Trivia

My last act in San Francisco was pub trivia with Susan and her friend Sara. Sara will never read this I am sure and that’s good because: a) in my whiskey enhanced state, I am no longer sure that her name was Sara, and b) If her name was indeed Sara, I could be wronging her by not including an H at the end of her name. The moral of htis story is that I am good at digging holes for myself.

Trivia was fun, but I humiliated myself beyond measure for not knowing that Oregon, OREGON, is the only state with a 2 sided flag. I mean, really, that is rookie stuff and I blew it. However, I blew the evening in a different way too. If you recall, I lost the guest keys to Susan’s apartment. The penance for that loss was the loss of my ownership of Elvira. Bummer. However, I just now realized that I missed a chance to win her back.

On our way to the bar we made a friendly bet on the chances of me being carded entering the establishment. Susan claims that she’s been carded every time. I claimed that I have rarely been carded past 25 or so. The bet was a beer on whether or not I get carded. I won the bet, but only because the the door bouncer was not outside at that particular moment. In the scenario of a door guard, everyone get’s carded, so I was lucky. Still, I should have bet back Elvira! I’m not very good at this apparently.

Needless to say, the evening, and my entire time in San Francisco was fun. Susan deserves a lot of thanks for her hospitality, as it made my trip more enjoyable and memorable. Thank you, Thank you. Thank you.

You Spin Me Route Round

Here’s the route I did today. Note that the little dots near the top mark my detour on The Avenue of Giants. That stretch of road is a scenic bypass that takes you through a portion of the redwoods. The only pictures on the day of riding come from my stop there. I digress, the route:

Freeway Saddle Sore (Followed By Serendipity)

I left San Francisco with the intention of travelling up 101. Highway 1 was an amazing experience, one that I would return to, but the thought of two more days crawling up the coast didn’t mesh with my larger goal of meeting little Samuelcito in PDX. So, I struck up 101. For the most part, 101 north of San Francisco has been more Freeway that Highway. That’s made for good time, but rather boring riding. Still, I had never been on that stretch of road so I was determined to enjoy it. A large part of that enjoyment came from the fact that I bought earplugs, and at speeds of 75-80 MPH, I am very glad I had them.

Overall the ride to Gaberville went by in fast fashion. I found myself wanting to stop every 80 miles or so, which isn’t bad. I don’t want to push it. If I get sore, I don’t sweat it I just look for a place to stop. I figure that if I take that strategy I’ll save myself some pain as well as fatigue at the end of the day.

On one of these stops I had a small world moment and that really made my day. I stopped somewhere for gas (I have no idea the town) and as I was filling up (with gas for Elvira and some caffeine for me) I noticed a gal get out of a Jeep that looked a lot like an employee of Barry’s on Campus (where I am a regular). As it turns out it was, and we chatted for a bit. I’m not sure what the odds are on that happening, but it is sure nice when it does. It’s like a nice slice of home to remind you where you’re going back to, despite all the good times on the road.

Avenue of the Giants

Besides the serendipitous meeting at a random Chevron, the Avenue of The Giants was the standout feature of today’s ride. I enjoy taking scenic bypasses, and this was one that I opted not to do on the way down because I thought it would take me further south than the cut-over to Highway 1. As it turns out I was wrong about that, but it all worked out because Highway 1, as I’ve said many times, was enough on it’s own.

The Avenue itself is a nice stretch of road, maybe 25-30 miles long. It had some twists that were fun, but mostly it was just a scenic trip through a forested area. I rode until I saw a nice spot for pics and then stopped to take them:

Rain and Etc

By the time I was on the Avenue, sprinkles had started forming. By the time I was off and back on to the freeway-ish 101, it was raining outright. By the time I was in Eureka, my intended stopping point, it was pouring. Had I stayed another couple of days in San Francisco I could have enjoyed the sun there and also waited out the worst of this according to Weather Underground. In the morning I will most likely be greeted with rain again, but just like the weather south of here, it is supposed to be sunny further north, so I’ll deal with it.

I think that’s about it. I am currently sitting in a hotel room with full knowledge that there is a sauna down the hall. Not bad for a Super 8. It feels like an age has passed since I’ve had the joy of sitting in the sauna after a workout at the Taj-Ma-Gym. My muscles could use a heat bath, I bid you good night.

besos

Well hello again dear folk. It’s time to post another entry lest you think I’ve become lax in my duties. I haven’t been doing much riding, save for the riding I’ve been doing in town. I don’t think anybody likes driving in city traffic, I certainly don’t; but, a patient attitude and zen like concentration can serve up an interesting time. For example, in this city, no one likes to use their blinkers when turning. See, exciting and interesting!

As I alluded to in my last post, my days here in The City have been spent sight seeing. This will mark the third time I’ve been to San Francisco. The first time was 15 years ago (or so) to visit my friend Stephen. The last time was several years ago (aren’t I great with specifics!?) for an Oregon vs. CAL game; Oregon lost. Both times I didn’t see very much. The first was spent mostly around the Wharf/Waterfront and China Town. The second was spent mostly on Market Street, where my hotel was, and in Berkeley. For this trip my only real goal was to make sure to go to the Gate parks. For the rest I let my super awesome host suggest ideas for me to pursue and did so gladly. So, without further ado, let’s get to the details.

Where I see Crissy Field, Fort Point, and lose some dignity in the process.

The majority of Monday was spent at Crissy Field and the general area. I didn’t mean for it to, it just happened that way and you’ll see why in a minute. Right now though, I’m jumping ahead of myself. The start of this lovely day was dedicated to locating a good breakfast. Susan had suggested two places, and even pointed them out for me on the street, but I could not for the life of me find them the next day. So I spent a fair amount of time wandering looking for something. I fount a place called Eats:

I find that an indicator of a good breakfast dining experience can be had in the quality of the mug they serve coffee in. My favorite are heavy ceramic mugs, which is what I encountered in that above shot. So I was satisfied and got to eating a waffle, served with over easy eggs right on top so the (runny) yolk and syrup could mix freely. At one point during all of that bliss I looked up to see the following hanging on the wall above me:

Interesting.

After breakfast my plan was to head to Crissy Park on foot. I quickly realized that my day’s plans could go farther if I took Elvira along with me, so it was “back in the saddle” time for me. I headed towards the park and had a nice ride through Presidio Park to arrive at Crissy Field. That’s where the day’s fun began. I wanted pictures of the bridge and surrounding area, and that’s what I got. I started off with these:

I was pleased but I wanted to get a shot with Elvira in the foreground. I saw cars driving out to the point, but I was in a parking lot that had the entrance on that particular road blocked off, so it was back to the bike to try and find another access. That lead to this:

Unfortunately it also led to me losing the spare apartment keys i had been given! I had them in the same pocket as the motorcycle keys and they must have popped out as I was pulling the motorcycle keys out. What was particularly tough to stomach was the fact that I had waned myself that this might happen when I left for the day. Instead of moving them, I figured that my OCD key and wallet ritual would protect me. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. Seriously, it didn’t. I spent the afternoon looking for the keys. I never found them. I knew it was out of my control at that point and I went back to doing my thing.. only my thing had to keep me occupied for longer than anticipated.

First I took more pictures of The Point area:

After wandering around the area on foot, to and fro, taking pictures, looking for keys I’d never find I decided that it was time to head back and locate two things I was sure I could find: crossword puzzles and booze. I found both, as I had a two bar hop down the street where I would ultimately meet Susan at a coffee shop on her way back from work.

Besides the blip the day was great, and it ended on a good note because we decided to hop a cab and go see. Cabin In The Woods. I gave it two thumbs up, despite some minor points of story and such. Still, it was very funny and the horror presented was kind of a deconstruction of the genre. Plus, it was made in part by Joss Whedon and tell me where you can go wrong there?!

That brings us to today.

Today, I found myself armed with a whole list of things I might try and see. So I spent the mid-morning riding up to Pacific Heights and then down to The Mission District. My first stop was Alta Vista Park:

The next destination was down to the Mission District to try out an El Farolito Burrito:

I think you can get a sense of scale there from the picture. They should be calling that a burro rather than a burrito, but I’m not going to complain. I’m sorry I have no pictures to offer of that part of town. I liked it and I wandered around a bit, but nothing stuck me as photo worthy, although I enjoyed what I was seeing quite a bit. I think it’s great that different areas can be so vastly different yet the same as well. I realize that statement isn’t exactly an example of profundity, but that’s all I have at the moment. I’m saving myself for pub trivia later.

Smooches

Today was another great day of riding. A lot happened so I’ll get right to it, no jokes or funny stuff. I think we’ll survive.

Oh I spoke too soon, I would also like to post a retraction to my prior post. Susan informed me that those movies in the 80′s and 90′s were indeed full on horror and not, in fact, “horror-ish”. That is all.

Route Map

This post wouldn’t be complete without an apology for overlooking a simple thing: maps of my route. I will post up a full map in some yet to be determined wrap-up post but here is what I rode today in the meantime:

Gualala (A) to Bodega Bay (B)

My luck with the weather has held the entire trip outside of Eugene to Florence, but today gave me my run for the money. I lit out of Gualala early again, with the glaring sun in my eyes. I could tell it was going to be a beautiful day. Here take a look:

As it turns out, the weather had another plan. Five miles down the road, things started to turn foggy:

Five miles after that I was in the thick of it. There were areas with visibility as short as 40-50 feet!

With the low visibility from both the fog and a misty visor, the going was very slow. I did manage to catch some sights whenever the elevation dropped a little though.

By the time I got to Bodega Bay, I was famished from the work. I pulled into the first place that I saw with the word breakfast on the sign and promptly ordered a coffee and some crab cakes benedict.

Bodega Bay to Point Reyes Station (C)

After a good breakfast I hit the road. Thankfully the fog did not follow. I was able to simply dig in and enjoy riding the corners. Little did I know I was destined for some other adventures in Point Reyes:

I missed a stop sign that this particular policeman was parked next to. I wasn’t going fast, 25 at the most, I just was looking at roadside attractions and completely missed it. I left a rear tire skid in an attempt to correct my mistake but ultimatly I had to just pull through. I stopped immediatly after, looking surprised and sheepish and apologizing repeatedly. Lucky for me, he decided to let me off with a warning, provided that “I wasn’t wanted for murder”. Please officer, I hide the bodies way too well to get caught.

Point Reyes Station to San Francisco

As Mr. W pointed out in a comment to the last post, this is some curvy and hilly road. It was very nice! It was also very demanding. Eventually Highway 1 dumps back onto 101 briefly to get you across the Golden Gate Bridge an into the city. I made that transition around 12:30 and the shock was almost painful. Freeway traffic is a different sort of challenge. So is paying the #%*^#% toll in quarters packed in case I needed to do laundry.

San Francisco

After locating Susan’s place, and after I changed out of riding gear, we decided to take a mini tour. We rode Elvira up to Twin Peaks, and then through areas of Golden Gate Park.

Here are my touristy photos so far:

Ok, that is enough for today. I am so tired it’s getting hard to type and keep my eyes open. I will be glad to have a ride-free day tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll sleep well and then get to some more exploring, in the following fashion:

fin

I saw all of the titular labels today, applied liberally… as titular phrases should be. I’m going to stop while I’m ahead on this one. On to the ride report.

First, the Steed

I feel bad for neglecting Elvira. I have not formally introduced you to her. She is a Triumph Bonneville T100, all black. She was named by one who is called Susan. Susan has an affinity for warhorses as well as old 80′s and 90′s horror(ish) movies. I made all of that up, but you get the point. In any case, here are some glamour shots:

Plans (within Plans)

I made some good decisions today based on the planning I had done originally. For one, I left the hotel at 7:30 or so. That meant that I had more time to cover the same distance as the first day (theoretically). My hope was that I’d be less tired if I took more time, stopped often and enjoyed the sights. It feels like I succeeded on that point, so I’m happy.

I also went ahead and steered the bike down Highway 1 rather than staying on 101. I didn’t reach San Francisco today as a result, but the trade off was a ride down a highway that people from all over the world travel to see. The first 20 miles or so were in the redwoods and that distance took me about an hour to cover (because you gotta take your time with the curves baby). Up until then I still had hopes to push though but as the ocean appeared again, my reason returned. I’m out here to enjoy myself.

Crescent City to Eureka

On the first day I had originally penciled in Eureka as a stopping point but I didn’t make it. No complaints though, I am glad I got to ride this portion in the morning. There were very few cars, and I was certainly more alert. The rode was winding, touching both the coast and stands of redwoods in turn. On the recommendation of the hotel attendant I took a scenic route that took me through a corridor of trees, and also (randomly) an elk reserve. Score!

Here are some pictures of this section:

 Eureka to Highway 1

There are no pictures of this section. There were some amazing vistas: ocean views, hills of uncut timber so thick that it was almost unreal, rivers, meadows and etc. Unfortunately, the riding came first. All of this stretch was separated highway, rolling and curving though all of the above. I did what anyone in my place would do: roll on the throttle and enjoy everything in passing… as well as some passing.

Highway 1

This section was the real charmer today. The Shoreline Highway, as it is called, starts around Legget, with a 22 mile section of forested twist backs. It took me a while to get loose and into the swing of it. Once I was able to give myself over to it, the ride was amazing. It was also draining. Score!

Once I got to Point Arena I was ready for a meal other than jerky and water. I was also thinking that finding a hotel would be a good idea because San Francisco was out of my reach. As luck would have it, I stopped to stretch my legs next to a service station with an attached motorcycle shop. There I met Caroline, a fellow cyclist who was headed North. We had dinner and gabbed a bit and I tried to pick her brain about the area. Instead of spilling any goods, she took me back to the motorcycle shop to talk to the owners. They were a very nice couple who had the scoop on where the hotels were (Gualala). Score!

Gualala is a mere 20 miles south of their shop and when I arrived it was the most welcome site since Crescent City. The hotels here are more expensive, but worth it as far as I can tell. I just watched the sun go down on the ocean, and I am about to hit up the hot tub sized Jacuzzi bath. Score!

Pictures:

Final Thoughts

This is really fun, but it’s also isolating. I don’t think that is a bad thing, but as an assertive extrovert, I’m very glad I met some random people today. Self reflection while taking in the scenery is good too, but ultimately… sharing is caring.

Fin (except for the 15 revisions I’ll do to correct glaring errors).

What you’re about to read has been written under the influence of a Manhattan and a full body drowsiness. I spent just shy of 6 hours on the road today, much of that in the saddle. I’m exhausted. I’m also glowing from the first day on the 101. Here are some of my thoughts, in ragtag fashion:

Eugene to Florence

It was raining slightly in Eugene, and generally drizzly all the way to Florence. I wasn’t discouraged but I did find myself thinking about what an entire trip of rain would do to my enthusiasm overall. The most important factor about riding in any sort of weather is comfort. If you’re cold and wet it’s much harder to concentrate on the road, so I’m glad I bought the riding clothes that I did. I could have layered better; there were some times (in each leg today) where I was  colder than I wanted to be. None of it was that bad at all though, and I arrived in Florence no worse for wear, other than a desire to find the facilities. It just so happened that those facilities also sell the best cup of coffee in Florence. Score!

Florence to Bandon

In this portion of the trip there was considerably more sun and less rain. In fact there was no rain, and a kind of wispy cloud cover that was enough to reduce the light and hide the sun for most of the time. This was a good ride because I am not sure if I have ever been down that far south on 101. It’s possible that I went to Coos Bay with my family growing up, but I don’t recall. That thought started to mess with me a bit because every sign I saw from then on for any sort of campground seemed fake-familiar to me. FYI fake-familiar is a technical term for the purposes of this post. I think (but can’t be bothered to look it up) that the actual term has a French name and is in the class of sensations that Deja Vu belongs to. So there.

haha no picture for that section sucker.

Bandon BY THE SEA

I stopped here because it’s been a long time goal of mine to visit Bandon. I know (or I’m at at least am acquainted with) two families there. These are families of two friends of mine who have never met each other. I think that is kind of cool. I’m a huge jerk so I didn’t visit anyone though, I just sat around the peer eating jerky and taking metered tugs off of my water pack. I want to spend more time there on the way back up so I am going to try and make it a stopping point at the end of a day. Ok on to pictures!

Getting my bearings (also checking it to see if it was a source of magical powers):

I found this funny:

Ok, the educational version:

Just outside of Port Orford

All I have are cool pics from here, by far the most interesting thing about this trip is the scenery. I’ve seen such green hills that I swear Gawain is going to come riding up next to me looking for The Knight. I’ve seen lots of trees too, pretty ones. However, I am here for the ocean views. I love the ocean, it connects to something deep inside of me. So, when I was suddenly shown the following vistas, I almost had a heart attack:

It was as if the clouds suddenly lifted just to show me this sight. Man it was great.

Down to Crescent City

So, I could have stopped 20 more times to get other pictures of the beautiful coastline. There aren’t a lot of beaches down along this stretch of Oregon, but man, they have great coastline. It was basically a visual treat for the entire final third of the trip today. Still, as the hours wore on I became colder, slightly less alert, hungry and tired. There were some great wind gusts that took me by surprise too. Still, I arrived here in Crescent City, CA unscathed but needing to address my bodily concerns. I took a very long hot shower, ate a meal and resolved to write this blog  before I pass out for the night. You’re welcome?

I almost forgot: As I was riding and loving the Oregon scenery a funny thought popped into my head, probably from seeing so many State Park signs. I think the slogan for Oregon State Parks and Rec should be, “Oregon State Parks… You’re in one right now!”

fin