Motorcycling Across America

Saturday, July 23, 2005

July 22, 2005 - Friday – Day 27


48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 66 - Total Miles: 6363 – Average: 235.6 (travel days)
11:00am-Noon (1hr)
PRIMM, NV to LAS VEGAS, NV (23/48)
(-staying at Steve Diano’s home – a former second grader of mine
- CONVINCING ARGUMENTS FROM THE CHESSMASTER -


As we were loading up we chatted with Debbie, Dave, Rose, and Ralph. They were two California couples who were out for a weekend’s jaunt to Bryce and Zion on two Goldwings. They had left yesterday evening at 8pm and arrived here at the Buffalo Bill Resort last night at 1am!! I was astounded at that and asked how they could get here so late. The one friendly guy said, pointing to his buddy using buddy-like mannerisms and tone, "Because HE rides like a girl! And because we ran into construction along the way." I said I thought that was pretty funny (unless one is into the politically correct stuff), but that I know several girl motorcycle riders who could ride rings around most men. Then asked whether they had encountered any bad weather last night when they came in so late. They hadn’t.

When we got in last night, of course, the roads here were dark, and everything was a mystery. So it was quite something and exciting to see the outside of the place in the daylight – all manner of glitz and excess – from a monorail and a rollercoaster that loopedy-looped all around the place to caves and monstrous flashing signs. As I took my morning run somewhat around the perimeter, the place resembled a huge gaudy artichoke having sprouted itself in the desert’s middle of nowhere. All in all, though, and perhaps despite that, I thought it would be a nice place to take a restful vacation – if one didn’t gamble their money away. They had a first run movie theater, all kinds of other things going on, the rooms were cheap, and the atmosphere friendly. Primms Valley Resort.

After leaving at exactly 11am it took under an hour to get to Las Vegas. It was bright and sunny and I watched the road carefully to see how it would have been had we continued our way last night. The road was in pretty good shape, but occasionally over it were shards and shreds and strips of tires that had come off of the big trucks. I was happy to have made the decision last night I did.

Vegas is where Steve Diano, a fellow I’ve known for more than 30 years now lives. As a second grader, Steve would often come over to the chess club I sponsored at the elementary school where I taught. He was a whiz at chess and was soon beating me regularly. In our tournament with the senior high school, he beat his opponent! He was as bright-eyed and smiley a second grader as I’ve met. We have kept in touch throughout the years and he had invited us to stay with him when he was back east for a wedding.

After we arrived, Steve, with a great convincing and gracious manner invited us to stay for the day despite our puny mileage and after studying the map it seemed feasible. Beside the time we could spend together, he argued, there was the opportunity to do laundry, take a nap, catch up on some other things like checking home phone messages, have access to wireless internet, and also possibly get the rear turn signal on the bike fixed.

We made several calls to that end and found an accommodating place that would take us in. Then with great kindness Steve, with Karen in the car, led me to Motorcycle City, where service guy Dave, and mechanic Jason said they’d fix the bike right up. It was a big busy and friendly motorcycle place. Steve, Karen, and I went to a local deli for lunch while the turn signal was being repaired. We got back about 2 hours later and everything was set to go. I was most appreciative of the folks there for taking the mc right in.

I then followed the car back to the house. It was only about 6 miles or so. Along the way we had a good view of the Vegas skyline. I was most impressed by a Space Needle type building that had restaurant AND a roller coaster on TOP of it.

Steve’s place was spacious and we spread right out in the downstairs guest room. After a nap we got wash done and had a little supper, and then got to see Steve’s command center, which has banks of smaller monitors, and one bigger one he was currently working on. He showed us about how he plays on-line poker and how popular it is! Many thousands seemed to be involved in the playing. Karen enjoyed looking at Steve’s friend Ginger’s scrapbooking room.

We hoped to get our earliest start of the trip tomorrow morning (Karen can hear everyone laughing at that one!) and so headed toward bed around 10:30.



July 21, 2005 - Thursday - Day 26


48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 364 - Total Miles: 6,297 – Average: 242.7 (travel days)
11:30am-9PM (9.5hrs)
PASO ROBLES, CA to PRIMM, NV (23/48)
(-staying at BUFFALO BILLS RESORT & CASINO
- CROSSING THE MOHAVE DESERT – CAUGHT IN THE DARK SHORT OF GOAL! -


Unluckily, the right rear directional signal was out. Luckily a motorcycle place was virtually right next door to the motel. Luckily the folks there said they could look right at the problem. Unluckily, it wasn’t just a bulb, but rather the signal wire looked like it had dropped down from inside the back fender and rubbed itself apart on the tire. Ryan, the nice young fellow who took time to look at the problem taped the rest of the wires up to avoid any further problem.

Much of the days lately have been numbers. Route numbers. Today looked like this: 46 west to 99 south to 58 west to 15 north.

We lunched at 1:30pm at Quizmos in unpronounceable Tehachapi, CA. We were about half way for the day. The nice manager lady let us take as much ice and water from the soda machine as we wanted to wet down our vests. She warned us of "scattered thunderstorms" in the desert.

Before hitting the desert, we rode past some vineyards and some almond orchards, and some fields of roses. Of the latter, Karen said the fragrance was heavy like putting one’s nose into a bouquet of roses.

I’ve spoken on earlier days of the heat licking at us ferociously. And also of days when waves of heat have washed over us. But today, especially as we crossed the Mohave Desert, it was oceans of hot air flooding across us, bathing us in constant deep sometimes searing warmth. Our orange cooling vests helped somewhat, but against the onslaught of the high temperatures it was difficult to do anything except keep hydrating steadily and barreling ahead. Occasionally the metal part of the handlebars would be too hot to touch as the temps ranged significantly above 100.

Today we rode at mainly 80 and 90mph through what turned into mostly all scrub deserty areas punctuated occasionally by a small town or two. Otherwise, just lonely emptiness. And the horizons were generally ringed with very high mountains.

One town had modern windmills all along the ridges of the high mountains generating gobs of electricity from the steady winds.

We rode through a mountain range. Steadily rising to over 4,000 feet elevation. At 4:30pm we pulled off and battened down the hatches, ready to continue into the desert. We now saw storm clouds, lightning flashes, and dim skies on the mainly flat panorama ahead. Shortly there appeared distant mountains, and darkened skies over them that emitted bolts of light sometimes two or three at a time or pitchfork-pronged.

We pulled off at Baker for a little supper. When back on the road the darkness had increased, the lightning strikes over the mountains into which we were heading had multiplied, and the road surface had worsened (and the potholes couldn’t be avoided because NOW they couldn’t be seen!). By the time we got the 25 miles to Primm, Nevada (our 23rd state), all the above had intensified. It was only 8:30pm, but about black as night. I was quickly coming to the conclusion that it was not safe to ride in this, but there was nothing but darkness along the roadside. As we saw the Primm oasis of lights in the distance, the final blow to going further occurred – and that was the wind gusts that had strengthened. A couple bursts blew the bike over a few feet on the roadway. We were only 40 miles to Steve’s and I had the sinking, depressing feeling in the realization that we’d have to stop sooner somehow. I suppose we could have gone on and kicked it in, but the odds just weren’t there – and I suppose that’s what Vegas is all about, eh? Knowing when to hold ‘em and knowing when to fold ‘em.

So even though we were amazingly close, I pulled into the Primm exit and there was found a dreamland of bright lights, casinos, and all the razzmatazz glitz and pseudo-glamour that goes with the gambling scene. (And to think! This was only the little sister of the excess that lay up the road!) It was quite the contrast to the desert sameness of the road grind.

I called Steve, a former second grade student and told him of the tantalizing so-close predicament – we were only 40 miles away!!! He sounded disappointed, which intensified my disappointment. He volunteered to drive out and lead us in. In the end we agreed to meet for breakfast tomorrow.

We got a room for what seemed to us to be an amazing price – only $39.99! Cheapest of the trip. Guess they wanted people’s gambling money and so made the rates attractive. With the help of the obligatory valet staff, Karen bundled our stuff upstairs into the big resort casino while I rode off a little ways to the motorcycle parking area.

The room was a good one and we quickly spread out and went over maps thinking about friends Bryce, Zion, and GC that we hoped to see the next day.






Thursday, July 21, 2005

July 20, 2005 - Wednesday – Day 25


48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 84 - Total Miles: 5,933 – Average: 237.3 (travel days)
LUCIA, CA to LOS ROBLES, CA
(-staying at a Motel 6-)
- FOG! - HEARST CASTLE – THE THIRD CORNER TURNED -


On this 25th day of our journey around the country we awoke at 6:30am in the Lucia cabin. The cabin was completely socked in with fog. Couldn’t even see the quarter-mile away store or the road. And even the Pacific Ocean right down the cliff was blanketed in fog. Karen went back to sleep and I finished typing up the recent days’ events. I lifted the thin blinds slat at 8:30ish to check on the fog. The scene was a bit different – the fog was thicker!!! Same for 9:15!

We finally made our way up to the store/restaurant area by 9:50am, and found a superb breakfast awaiting us. Delicious breakfast foods arrayed on tables set in a splendid dining room with fire roaring – and a big picture window displaying an ever-de-fogging view of the Pacific.

By 11:30am we had the bike packed up and we headed up into the mountainous fog. It wasn’t too bad by then. Low overhanging stuff that occasionally touched the road, but for much of the way it totally shrouded out the ocean far down on the right. I don’t know if that was a good thing or not. It surely made it feel like boxed-in riding, but it saved us from the tortures of making those narrow curves while actually seeing into the deep down awing depths below.

We passed the campground where I spent my 33rd birthday, celebrating back in ’80 with two cheese sandwiches right on the Pacific shoreline.

There were some of the roughest of roads we’ve encountered – usually due to landslides and the unfinished road work on the highway. And the turning in and out of the canyons was tighter than before – once I swayed over the middle line while turning – and I was sure glad that the guy coming around the mountain hadn’t begun his trip 30 seconds sooner!

The worst and most nervous times for me were when the road was rough ON those tight turns way up over the ocean – and there wasn’t a guardrail. I tried to keep my thoughts on the navigating duties at present instead of all the 'what COULD happens'!

At one o’clock, we passed a beach full of elephant seals along the way. Karen said they looked like big slugs. And that they did. Most were just lying there seeming like they were sunning themselves on the beach. Odd looking creatures to be sure. We got a couple pictures from the road since I didn’t want to risk pull into the gravel vista point.

A bit further down the road came my only opportunity – as it turned out – to touch the ocean. It was a deserted motel and there was access to the beach. Although that access was roped off we lifted the rope, headed across some dune like areas, and I jumped down to the waves and actually touched a few of them as they lapped up to the shoreline. Karen got the picture from high up on the crusty hard-packed dune.

It was rocky along that bit of shore. Near some of the bigger rocks about a quarter-mile away a couple had gotten out of their red car and were frolicking in amongst the huge boulders thinking they were unseen from the world.

Along the coastline the air has been so fresh - from the ocean on the right and the millions of trees on the left. I’ve always thought it was the freshest air in the world – certainly the cleanest and sweetest smelling of my life. And here right on the beach – it was fabulous.

Shortly, we scrambled back up to the mc and headed down the road a short way to a little house on the hill.

Those who know about Hearst Castle, and who have been there know that no descriptives in the world can fully describe the place – or even come close. And those who don’t know about Hearst Castle can have no idea about its wonders or it’s amazing story. (I would suggest a google on the place.) I can only say that if one wanted to make a get-away home, without a shred of limitation as to money or imagination or material, then this might be that home! Imagine living above the clouds in a dream castle that had everything you might possibly want or desire.

We parked in the lot, took most of our gear and a couple bags, and headed to the main entrance. Kellen Riley, with the Park Service at the Ranger Station, helped us immeasurably with his kindness of letting us put our heavy riding coats and a few carry bags in a locked side room. (The lockers at the Park were all being used or were broken.) I handed him one of the pens I carry that has our internet information on it and his face brightened up saying, "Hey, we really NEED pens." So I handed him another one.

After getting one’s tickets, it’s a fifteen minute bus ride just up to the mansion itself. The mountain grounds used to hold a zoo of over sixty types of animals. Some of the descendants of those animals are still roaming around the place. There we met our affable tour guide, Bree. She was wonderful with the group, segued great into the next topics, was very informative, and had a good sense of humor.

The castle itself remained as I remembered it from my 25-year-ago visit, but there was a huge new entry way, and a wonderful theater. The I-Max type movie we saw after the tour was a bit smarmy and self-serving but full of interesting details none-the-less, and the quality of film making was quality personified. It was my third time taking a tour through the place and it was even more fascinating and downright amazing than each other time.

William Randolf Hearst was quite the icon. He was over 6 feet tall. It’s said he had the body of a bull mastiff with the voice of a Chihuahua and that may be the reason he didn’t win the Democratic nomination in the year he ran. He died at 88. He inherited most of his money at age 56, before he hit it big in yellow journalism. His dad was a miner who had a good sense with the earth, and dug into it, gambled that what most people thought was worthless was actually silver – and it was!

William assembled works of art from antiquity (a statue over 3,000 years old) and from his time. The place, which lies on 188 acres of prime coastal land, cost over ten million in those days dollars. He didn’t like to mingle with high society types.

The bus driver on the way down the mountain had a good sense of humor. We sat in the first two seats in the front of the bus. We got to asking him about the trips he took up and down the mountain and if there were ever any accidents and so on. He joked, "Well I took my seizure medicine an hour ago and I’m feeling fine now." This as we hurtled over steep grades and around ultra sharp turns. From where we sat on the bus it seemed like the big bus was going over the roadsides, or about to. And the drops were as dramatic as they were deep.

We learned from the driver that Bree was the youngest to fly coast to coast in an airplane at 13! And that Hearst Castle frequently takes guides who have been well known in other things – among the 100 or so guides there were some former Miss Americas, a rock star, and scientists of note.

Another reminder of being in a particular generation came when the 30ish couple in line at the Hearst Castle café turned and asked me who Patty Hearst was and wasn’t she involved in something in the sixties?

We spent about three hours at the Hearst Castle complex. Then left for a wonderful ride down the coast a bit before turning the third corner of the trip – and headed east for the first time in awhile.

We found a reasonable Motel 6 in Los Robles. After supper, we had some serious mapping and routing discussions. Because of our lost time we were disappointed to have to decide that we wouldn’t be able to swing down into southern Arizona but would be heading right toward Las Vegas and national parks north of Vegas. (I was especially disappointed not be able to meet on-line friend Clark Isaacs who has written us on the road more than anyone else, and who had invited us to stay in his log house on top of a mountain surrounded by 42 acres!)

We had internet service for the first time in a couple days and I dispatched our recent notes, and we were asleep relatively early. Needed the rest for what must be a big mileage day tomorrow.





July 19, 2005 - Tuesday – Day 24


48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles TodayL 173 - Total Miles: 5,675 – Average: 246.7(travel days)
San Francisco, CA to Lucia, CA
(-staying at Lucia Cabins (in a cabin overlooking the Pacific)
- ALONG THE COASTLINE -


We awoke around 7ish and then shortly were treated to the happy sounds of a 2-year-old having breakfast and interacting with his mom. We came down and breakfast was waiting. June had to get Sam off to camp, but we spent some more time talking and also making a call to a local Honda dealer who said that I could bring the bike over right away for the needed oil change. By 9:30am I was on the road to the place a few miles away. It was a bit of a nervous ride without Karen on the back to direct where to go, but after a few wrong turns I got there a bit late, but in plenty of time. I met Carl, who seemed to be the guy in charge of service. He was a very friendly guy who said at the small shop they liked to take care of travelers such as myself. (One time when he was traveling many years go, someone kept a mc shop open for him until 9:30pm.) The motorcycle was taken into the shop and the older fellow there took care of the oil change, checked the air pressure, and performed some other maintenance checks. Everything was fine.

Carl said he moved here for the weather. He avowed that it had only snowed twice since he’d gotten here in ’58!

While the bike was being attended to, I sat in a little cramped office at a desk working on the journal notes and enjoying the writing of them.

I got back to June’s with no problem and Karen and I shortly packed up, bid farewell, were on our way south, and out to the coast again. It was mostly big road highway riding. Even when we had got to Route 1, which mostly hugs all of the coast, and which I had traveled on a bicycle a number of times, things did not seem familiar. Much of the little two-laner had been replaced with the expressway in this part of California. I looked in vain for familiar sights, but there were none.

We got off the big road and breezed into Castroville ("The Artichoke Capital of the World"). At least that big sign was still there over the old highway. But everything else had changed – except there was still the giant house-sized artichoke in front of the Giant Artichoke Restaurant (advertising fried artichokes as their specialty!). I posed in front of the giant artichoke as I had done 25 years ago in my bicycling outfit – then a brash 33 year old in his 8th day of a three month bicycle ride that would eventually take him 4000+ miles and all the way to the Atlantic Ocean. Then we went searching for Pastor Raymond Leon. I had met him on my cross-country trip, but despite looking around town, and even asking in a church, no one knew of him. (I realized later that this was a false memory and that the pastor was in a different town entirely.)

We, not entirely on purpose, went through miles and miles of broad fields where the laborers were at work harvesting lettuce, strawberries, and the such. Huge complex and strange-looking machines helped with the task. Eventually we came back to the main highway.

Seventeen-Mile Drive at Pebble Beach was a wonderful drive for me a quarter century ago. A young kid bicyclist joined me around the loop and I got a great photo of the Lone Cypress there. Now, instead of being off the two-laner, one gets to Seventeen-Mile Drive from an off-ramp of the expressway! And we couldn’t even get on it because now motorcycles are not allowed. (The guard said some motorcyclist started a fire awhile back and one killed someone, so no motorcyclists can take the beautiful ride.) Oh, and it costs $8.50 for a car to travel the route! I can’t recall if cars were charged back then, but so long ago I got to ride it for free.

I was quite struck by the changes. I said to Karen, "Sorry I can’t share that with you, dear. Seems I can’t share anything of that 25-year-ago ride with you." I sobbed in my helmet about that, how most everything that I wanted to share was either moved, removed, covered, long-gone, overgrown, or forgotten. It was covered over with cement parking lots or turned into shopping centers. Even the two-lane road had been paved over with big super highway. It was a very moving time for me. The tears streamed down my cheeks inside the helmet as I remembered that adventure of 25 years ago, now with no way to see all those same places and scenes again.

For some things, though, that was about to change.

About 15 miles in front of Big Sur we came to the first of the magnificent ocean views as the road wound out right to the edge of the continent and over the ocean.

Had to gas up in the Big Sur area – and it was $3.44/gallon!!

It was not easy riding for me. At one point Karen was going to take a picture from the back of the slow moving bike, but when she got the camera up, and saw the new overlook scene of 1000’s of feet down to the waves, she just gasped and closed her eyes. After she told me this story about the closing of her eyes a bit later, I remarked that I did not have such a luxury!

Around 6:30pm after 40 miles or so of those mountains with tight twisties and roads that overlooked the ocean right precisely beside it, we came upon the store and the cabins at Lucia. The cabins boasted about the best view of the ocean on the coast so far. They overlooked high over the waves and a thin shoreline that curved around a huge mountainous cove – where at the moment a slim overlying cloud of lingering beauty bejeweled itself over the broad inlet.

We had grossly misjudged how long this leg of the trip would take. We had come 174 miles and it was still 45 miles to Hearst Castle area! We were both exhausted and very hungry. And here we were in the middle of the coast with nothing on either side except this very expensive place to stay. And, in fact, there were only two cabins left, and by the time we decided to stay, we had the final one of the 20 or so.

To reach the cabins so perched high above the water one had to go down a steep drive that would have put the San Francisco streets to shame it was so precipitous! I decided that it was too dangerous to mcycle down and that we would have to shuttle our gear from the roadway to the cabin. This being done, I decided that even the top of the drive would not be safe for the bike, so I asked the lady in the store if we could put the bike in the small parking lot there for the night, and she agreed. I asked about internet service and she told me there was no phone in the room and no tv. We didn’t care about the latter since we never watched a tv in a motel room – other than about 15 minutes worth to hear about the hurricane news. But I was disappointed about the former since I already had a day’s worth of notes to get out to mainly eager readers. But the young woman behind the counter did assure me that recently they had begun leaving the electricity on after 9pm!

We took all our stuff and put it into the room. I noted there was no cell phone service way out here on rugged shoreline. Then I changed into running gear, took the bike to that parking lot by the store, and went for a run.

As I was putting the cover on the mc up at the store area, Rich and Will came tooling in on their touring bicycles. The young 20-somethings were on their way home to San Diego after leaving from way up the west coast. I told them how I envied their ride. It was already in the cool of evening and they were still looking for a campsite. I told them of the many times I was in that situation. I got a photo of them and told them I hoped they would contact me so I could find out how they made out that night.

There was a restaurant near the store. But after spending so much for the cabin, I sure couldn’t bring myself to spending $30 for an entrée. We shared the rest of what June had packed us for lunch – for dinner. The paper bags had cute little decals on them, and on Karen’s Colby sandwich, was cutely written on the plastic, "Karen, say Cheese!"

We assembled the dinner of peanut butter & jelly crackers, June’s remaining sandwich, carrots, a little box of raisins, some fig newtons, and walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the inlet. There were two chairs there and we sat, gobbled up the dinner, and watched the fantastic scene in front of us playing out as it had for more than a million years... the clouds, the mist, the waves, the ocean out to the horizon, and the dusk of evening approaching.

I went back to my notes of the trip of 25 years ago. And I spent a bit of time reading them to Karen in the cabin. I "re-met" Pastor Leon (an imposing man with cobweb tattoos all up and down both forearms, and a quarter-sized cross tattooed on his forehead!) and relived our time and the big storm that brought us together. And I recalled the 80 miles a day through these mountains that I muscled through on a bicycle.

In that cozy cabin I began thinking how lately each day of this trip now seems like a million years long that goes by in a split second.






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July 20, 2005 - Wednesday – Day 25
48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today - ? -
LUCIA, CA to ?


On this 25th day of our journey around the country we awoke at 6:30am in the Lucia cabin. The cabin was completely socked in with fog. Couldn’t even see the quarter-mile away store or the road. Even the Pacific Ocean right down the way was blanketed in fog. Karen went back to sleep and I finished typing up the recent days’ events. I lifted the thin blinds slat at 8:30ish to check on the fog. The scene was a bit different – the fog was thicker!!! Checked again at 9:30. The fog was thicker....

(TO BE CONTINUED)

July 18, 2005 - Monday – Day 23


48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 173 - Total Miles: 5,675 – Average: 246.7(travel days)
10:30am-8:30pm (with serious sightseeing)
Willets, CA to San Francisco, CA
(-staying at June & Neil’s -- June, a former 2nd grader of mine -)
- THE GOLDEN GATE – CLANG CLANG -


It was about time for another Shadow oil change and on my morning run I went by a place that could have done it, but the mechanic was off on Mondays, so it didn’t work out.

It was a delightfully cool day as it turned out and we enjoyed it especially so, since we were expecting an inferno. Traveled through all kinds of grape growing country today.

It seems to take us longer to get places in an amount of time when we have to go 45-55mph instead of 90! I guess there’s some kind of scientific theorem or mathematical equation to prove that’s really a fact and not just my imagination...

Along the way we passed a dog with his head over the railing of the 60-mph truck that was passing us. His tongue was out and he gave us a tongue’s up instead of a thumbs up! Right after that I saw a bumper sticker that read: "My Road to Success is Under Construction."

Our next stop was an on-line friend in Santa Rosa.

Mary, who goes by the screen name "Shortredheadlady" is exactly that. As we pulled in front of her home she acknowledged that she was as her screen name described. As Karen got off the bike, I said to Mary, "Well, as you can see, I like short redheaded ladies!"

Mary had a great friendly smile and some seriously cute freckles that danced all around her grinning face. We are in the same health discussion group on-line and were hoping to meet on the trip. Thank goodness she emailed when she did yesterday or we would have passed right by. She took us into her home, a rancher, which had an immediate aura to me of friendliness and warmth. And we three chatted a lot. We got to see her daughter’s room. Her one daughter in her early 20’s, had painted the room for an art class project – it was blue all around it, with a spreading yellow sun on the ceiling and stars and other designs around. It was very effective and easy to see why she got an "A" for the project. On the door was a colorful scene from Alice in Wonderland.

Mary’s daughter was also vegetarian and Mary had thoughtfully prepared a lunch for us that was one of my very favorites. There is a brand of fake bacon which she prepared and with fresh lettuce and tomatoes we savored BLT’s! I had two!

Karen and Mary seemed to enjoy chatting and I was feeling drowsy from the riding and the delicious eats. I stammered out my excuses, and laid on the couch, and very shortly, with the sound of friendly conversation in the background, a fullness in my belly, and a heavy lethargy drifting over me, fell into a sound nap for about 45-minutes. I awoke totally relaxed and more refreshed than I had felt for days! It was clearly a needed rest and I was appreciative of Mary’s understanding about my time away.

There was a big cage in the back room for the family dog, Roxie, a young black lab, who was now outside. In the cage was a little black dog which didn’t move. Mary said affectionately that was the black lab’s baby. I kept looking at the black blob from the distance, trying to see some kind of movement in it. I was alarmed that it wasn’t moving at all, but shortly recognized that it was just a little stuffed animal about which the baby reference was made. I deadpanned up to Mary, "I am awfully sorry to be telling you this, but I think Roxie’s baby is dead!" Mary looked dismayed for a split-second then got the misunderstanding/joke and explained with a smile about the stuffed animal that Roxie had adopted.

It was like a little dream stopping at Mary’s house... my nap, the delicious sandwiches, good conversation, and a nice smile to say good-bye.

After some pictures outside we left our new friend and to the tune of "San Francisco Here We Come", we headed south toward that big city by the bay.

It was about an hour to San Fran as Mary had said it would be. The highway riding was good. Once, an impatient guy passed on our right zipping by as I had my turn signal on to move into that lane. I hate surprises like that. Just a good thing I didn’t move into that lane faster than I did!

I felt a lot of emotion as we approached the Golden Gate Bridge. Twice before I had crossed it on a bicycle on sun-drenched days – but those approaches had always been long, somewhat hazardous, and meandering. It was always difficult to find a route onto the span that allowed bicycles. It took me awhile to get it into my head that wouldn’t be a problem this time.

We weren’t as lucky with the weather, however. It was extremely foggy, but still, as we rounded the bend, and the first view of the bridge popped up over a mountain crest, it was hard to control the lump in my throat at the emotional sight. Karen took some video as we crossed.

After we pulled into town proper over the bridge, we had to ask directions a number of times to get to the cable car area. Once, a athletic pretty blond woman with flair in a convertible accompanied by her little dog tried to help us. She also gave us passes to her massage place, and we were sorry we didn’t have time to take advantage of them. We eventually made our way to the cable car area and found a parking garage nearby. The fellow running the place, who said he was "Ace", kindly let us park in a little space near the entrance and then let us keep our helmets and some other gear in his car while we were away seeing the sights. We told him it would be only an hour, but it ended up much longer.

We scrambled over to the slow moving long line that queued around to the cable car ticket area. It then ran down a sidewalk where local artists and vendors plied their wares. The sky was blue but a chilly breeze continued to blow.

We chatted and made friends with people in line and I took some photos of them and promised to send the photos if they emailed me. Got a cute picture of a dad and his baby. We spent the most time chatting with a couple, George and Barbara, from Charleston. The affable fellow told us all about his trailer and how they were pulling a car and some of the problems they had with it. His wife had dyed her hair for the trip – it had been a bright silver, now it was brown. She said that some people didn’t recognize her and that she was sure going to be in for some ooo’s and ahhh’s when she got back to her relatives. We thought it looked very good.

I left the line a bit to go over to a camera store across the way. I got a wide angle attachment for our digital camera. Might have been a mistake because I noticed later that when zoomed the lens gave a little ring of out of focus around the edges. It worked great for extreme close-ups and wide angle though.

There was a street player next to the line who strummed an electric guitar. The blues he played and sang was very good. He came over and chatted with us all a bit and was personable though his face had some kind of distorted mottled imprinting and he was hard to look at for very long.

I originally was also going to get us something to eat because by now we were very hungry, but I totally forgot to go into the store next to the camera place.

After an hour or so we finally came up to within about 15 of the ticket area. The car about to leave was loaded and ready, but the friendly conductor guy took a look at Karen in the line and asked her if she wanted to get on, and she said I’d have to come with her. And he took us both in front of everyone else. Then, apparently mistaking us for firefighters because of our bright yellow suits, didn’t charge us for the ride.

The cable car ride was sure worth it. The "clang clangs" were fun to hear for the hour we were on the car. The views were awesome down to the sea, a mile or more up the steep inclines, and of the passing folks. The conductor who let us on had a great gift of gab as he called out to people on the street, or jokingly bantered with tourists in the car.

It was chilly riding hanging onto the outside steps on the first half of our ride and also as we sat on the outside on the way back. We enjoyed the music provided by street musicians along the way, especially a drummer on the sidewalk outside a department store. He was drumming on buckets and containers of varying sizes.

When we got back to the wharf area, it was very cold, damp, overcast, and somewhat drizzly with just little cloud-droplets of heavy mist. We got right to the parking garage. We had been in contact with June by phone throughout the day and called again now to tell her we were on our way. It was about 6:45pm.

We put on all our layers in the parking garage and we needed them because it was cold out there. Ace helped us retrieve our stuff from his car, showed us where a bathroom was (thankfully!), and eventually, after we had packed up again, processed us through the exit after we paid our $12! We then wound through the streets of San Francisco.

The streets of this place are famed for being steep. I found myself at angles, too, had trouble maneuvering through. Occasionally, I had to just move around by walking the bike – not beside it, but straddling it and sort of stepping. I thought it must look like I was duck-waddling through San Francisco. At one point though we were on a very steep hill going up and we were stopped at a traffic light. I had to gear up on a monstrous hill!! Now, THAT was a challenge to my motorcycling skills. At one point we looked down a street which had an amazingly sharp angle. We couldn’t imagine a dropped bike there – it would skitter a mile to the bottom!

After getting some misdirection, redirection, and then correct directions, we eventually made our way through the city to Route 101 south.

After we left San Fran proper and headed down the freeway to June’s, the cloud-drenched views were amazing. It was like cities in the distance afire with clouds. We arrived about an hour after leaving town and pulled up to the beautiful modern home and into the driveway. It was emotional for me seeing June coming out the front door to meet us and it was sure good seeing her again.

On the other side of the continent, 11 years ago, on my 1994 (Five Hundred Florida Miles trip of Jacksonville to Tampa) I stayed with June in Jacksonville. She was in one of my first second grade classes back at Coopertown School in Pennsylvania. (For readers who may not know, I taught early elementary school for 20 years between 1969 and 1989.) Since then she has moved to various places around the country plying her writing and editing skills, and now, with her husband, Neil and young son, she resides in Foster City, just south of San Francisco.

June was in one of my award winning pictures – her huge, huge second grader eyes superimposed in a cloudy sky and it’s always been one of my favorite photographs. That photo is on the living room wall at home and is often commented on by prospective clients who come to the house to see albums.

We got to meet Neil and precocious Sam, their 2 year-old. Sam was as bright-eyed and eager to learn as any kid I’ve met. One could see a simmering intelligence growing behind those huge eyes.

We got to spend some time talking about our trip ahead and catching up about our lives. June had made a delicious healthful dinner for us which we eagerly gobbled up. There was a wonderfully comfortable air mattress up in the second floor loft office and after trucking our stuff up, settling in, showering off the day’s grime, we settled in for a sound sleep.






Monday, July 18, 2005

July 17, 2005 - Sunday - Day 22


48 States or Bust - The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 229 - Total Miles: 5,502 - Average: 250.0
10:30am-xxxpm – 6:30hours – 8 hours
Crescent City, CA to Willets, CA (CA - 22/48)
(-staying at a Best Value Holiday Inn-)
- ELK! - A DROP! - DOWN THE AVENUE OF THE GIANTS! -


It was a great night’s sleep and by 8:30am I was running over to the local True Value to get an extension cord with outlets. Talk about how technologically inclined some traveling has become! There are so many chargers (computer, 2 phones, a pda, 3 digital cameras, a video camera, flashlights, & tape recorders) that need to have their batteries at least occasionally charged! Most motel rooms don’t have enough outlets!

Morning time is gathering things together and double checking nothing is forgotten. It’s also getting ice from the ice machine to put in the camelback so we have cold water for most of the day. And then, there’s the packing everything on the bike.

It was very warm near the motel, but not more than 15 minutes and a bit toward the coast, the temperature dropped about 20 degrees. We gassed up and the price was high, but by the end of the day we were happy to see $2.70 or so!!

We rode through woods and dales, high and low as the coastal mountains took us. The air moved from hot, hot licking of breaths that seemed from hell on our faces to cold, cold, almost frigid air that had us shuddering.

Highway 101 was through the mountains. The roads were twisty and sometimes tight-turned. Not my favorite type of riding as I don’t feel too confident with all the tight bends on the big bike. It was all green – with glorious trees marching beside the road endlessly and sometimes out to deep ravines or up tall mountain walls.

Just after noon we saw a whole bunch of elk on the side of the road. We stopped and Karen got off to take a few close up photographs. The big antlered buck stopped eating for a bit, gazed in Karen’s direction as if posing (but more likely enamored by her yellow outfit) and then continued blissfully eating despite the crowd of folks watching. I had been wondering if we’d see any of those animals since there was sign after sign warning about them. Then, a little further down the highway on the left was a herd of twenty or so in the big Eel River. There were a bunch of cars parked along the side of the roadway and a gaggle of folks up on the river bank enjoying the view of the big beasts rump-deep in the cooling water. We pulled over and Karen got off the bike to get some shots.

I waited on the bike and then angled it out so we’d be able to leave easier when she was ready. We were on gravel and there was a three-inch lip to get back on the highway. I had angled the front wheel to that lip. Karen came back and got on. I checked the traffic both ways – and watched for the car that was to my immediate left, parked and waiting for me to pull out. I did begin to pull out ever so slowly, but the back tire caught the road lip at the wrong angle and... it was only a matter of milliseconds that we were falling onto the gravel and the 650-pound bike was falling on top of us. That’s called, among other things in motorcycle cycle parlance, "dropping the bike!" It seemed so slow motion – like we were caught in the wake of a huge slow Pacific Ocean wave – and just went with the flow onto sandy beach. Of course, it was gravel and macadam, not soft sand. But what with the crash bars and gear on the bike, and the Aerostitch suits, we were able to scramble up with nothing but our egos extremely damaged, and a good case of embarrassed red faces. The fellow in the car to our left immediately got out to see if we were okay and I enlisted his help in uprighting the bike (which, because of the angle of the ground Karen and I could have never done by ourselves). Another man came over to help, too. It was uprighted, we thanked those around us, and when the traffic cleared we took off.

As we got on the road slowly Karen mentioned, "So that is why we wear these big heavy suits!" And I just smiled in agreement.

Going slower as we’ve been doing the last few days has certainly helped with the gas mileage! Getting 45-50mpg lately in these mountainous areas.

Karen and I celebrated the year anniversary of knowing each other with a wonderful tromping down the Avenue of the Giants. Those redwoods are amazing there and the flora gave the impression that if one could forget the year, it would seem that the scene was from a forest primeval.

Along the Avenue of the Giants is a huge 1000 year-old-tree. It’s dubbed "The Immortal Tree" because it’s survived floods and axes and the like. It was 298 feet tall, but is now 248 feet because it lost its top to lightning. An older gentleman was taking his wife’s photo there and I volunteered to take both of them. He said that they came up from Santa Rosa every few months just to
"keep their perspective on their place in nature."

At the last gas up of the day, it was blazing hot. The friendly woman gift shop/gas station owner came out with a cheery smile and a bit too much conversation (for my mood, at any rate.) But she offered us to turn on her sprinkler to cool us off and Karen took advantage of the offer – tromping through the cooling drops. I was sorry to have missed a picture of it.

We soon realized that San Francisco, to our great disappointment, wasn’t going to happen this day. For a multitude of reasons, not the least of which that we were tired and that tomorrow we’d get to spend more time with June and her husband, but also so we could grab a cable car in San Fran, we decided to stop short of the goal today.

We found a nice place and settled in. I ran for supper while Karen unpacked gear and after journal writing and checking email we went to sleep relatively earlier than usual.






Sunday, July 17, 2005

July 16, 2005 - Saturday – Day 21


48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 278 - Total Miles: 5,273 – Average: 263.7
1:30pm-8:30pm – 7 hours
Corvalis, OR to Crescent City, CA (OR,CA – 22/48)
(-staying at an Econolodge -)
- ON THE LEFT COAST - OVER 5,000! – THE PACIFIC! -


Was up, fully refreshed at 6:30am, and went into the Powell’s kitchen area to type some journal notes and eventually get AOL and Mac tech folks on the line. We surmised either there was a corrupted program on the hard drive or that there was something wrong with the lines coming into the house which presented connection. (On the other side of the day, when connecting without a hitch to the hotel phone line, it was clear that the problem was that house phone line inadequacy.)

Scott, Karen, I, and Lola (a friendly chocolate lab) went for a mile run/walk around 10am or so. It was a wonderful seeming neighborhood, and we talked as we ran and walked, and would stop occasionally to take a picture of beautiful flowers or a unique home’s architecture. For example, there was one particularly modern home set in with the others, and also an unusual blossoming artichoke.

When back we enjoyed more conversation and then hauled off to the local K-mart and supermarket to get a few things for us. The Powells got a bunch of things for the up-coming wedding and bar-b-que before the wedding. After checking out K-mart’s selection of binoculars, I ran to an across-the-street sport store to have more choices. Bingo! Found some good ones there and not only that, I felt good about getting an $89 pair for $20 in a clearance sale.

At the supermarket I got some rice cheese and when back at the house, I put a few slices between two slices of bread and Scott offered to go out into their garden and get some lettuce for the sandwich. I don’t recall ever getting lettuce that way, and it was delicious!

We left way too late and by 1:30pm, after some picture taking and good-byes, we were on the road. Five miles after leaving Scott and Sara’s place we rolled over 5,000 miles for the trip!

We took Scott’s routing advice and found the road to Peoria to be as good as he suggested it would be. Flat and countrified, it was a gorgeous romp through the warm afternoon. I got a little worried as I went over that magic 100-mile mark since the most recent gas fill up, but a gas station appeared in Harrisburg, just as my consternation was causing an almost permanent grimace. The grimace reappeared though when I noted the price was another one over $2.50/gallon.

About three miles before reaching the coast it got cold. And then it got colder! By the time we were very far along, we had gloved up and made sure all our zippers were tightly closed on the our Aerostitch air vents. Still, we had some shivering going on at some points through the rest of the day’s magnificent ride.

We arrived at the coast road (Route 101) at exactly 4pm, rolling over mile 100 on the button from Scott and Sara’s home. Let it be known that at 4:50pm we stood looking at the Pacific Ocean – after having crossed the continent! It was a great feeling of accomplishment.

Just below Port Orford we saw the huge apartment-building sized rocks just plopped down close to the shore. And the rugged thin coastline where strewn driftwood pieces were at once bleached white and also with deformed shapes.

Much of the ride down the lower part of the Oregon coast was devoid of other traffic - with hills or ocean on the right and a faint huge half-saucer half-moon rising in the blue sky above the mountains on the left.

Because of the wind and frequent shifting because of the mountainous terrain, it was an exhausting ride, but we made our goal of Crescent City, CA, some 278 miles south from our start point.

From that constant shifting, my left hand felt the most tired and hurting of any day of this trip so far. By the next morning, it has always recovered, and I hoped that would be the case this time, too.

While Karen unpacked, I loped across the wide street in the 9pm duskiness to get some Subway sandwiches and other foodstuffs at a grocery there. Back at the room we ate hungrily, poured over the maps, and chatted with June Bell, a former second grade student of mine, who we’ll be staying with tomorrow night just south of San Francisco.



July 15, 2005 - Friday – Day 20


48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 278- Trip Total: 4,995 – Daily Average: 262.9 (travel days)
Boardman, OR to Corvalis, OR
(-stayed at cousin Scott’s -) (OR – 21/48)
- THE COLUMBIA GORGE -


We rode through the fabled Columbia River Gorge area. I had heard a lot about the place and it was as beautiful as reported, but I couldn’t see very much of the first part of it from the interstate. And that’s because the winds were buffeting me and the bike ferociously. There was no letting hands off the bars. At a gas station the guy said it was almost always like that – and when it wasn’t, it was way too hot. He said since the windsurfers were out, it must be even windier than usual.

We got off the big highway about an hour or so after traveling and got onto the old, even more scenic highway. This one though was tough riding for me also; this time because it was so narrow, twisty, and had no shoulder. We passed a few of the fabled waterfalls and then came to the grand-daddy of them all – Multnomah. I had never heard of this world famous falls. It was a two tier waterfall with the top part being 542 feet high and the lower falls being 69. It is the second highest all-year waterfall in the US. It looked gorgeous as the water tumbled from the top of the mountain.

People were there from all over the world and the place was abuzz with activity. It was the first time that employees of a gift shop let us put our gear in a back room so we didn’t have to carry our helmets and heavy jackets around. We were very appreciative.

As usual, I would volunteer to take pictures of folks so the whole family could be in the shot. I did this with one big group of 24 or more women and we got very friendly – turns out they were grandmother types from Taiwan but had the spirit of teenagers, that’s for sure. For the last photo (after about 5 different of their cameras) I handed my camera to a passing guy and I got in the middle of the otherwise all-woman group. They laughed and laughed. We’d see each other over the next half hour as we’d walk the short distance to the falls. One woman in particular, Bebe, would pull me over to be in all their various pictures.

Karen walked up to the big cement bridge part way up to video from there. It was originally a wooden bridge but was replaced by cement in 1914. It was a magnificent view of the falls except that for the first time at a major attraction the sun was in the wrong place for great pictures. It was high over the falls throwing glare all over the place. We did the best we could. After about 90-minutes or so we packed up the bike, which incidentally, was in a "motorcycles only" area. We chatted with a guy who had a brilliantly dazzling shiny-silver Harley. He helped us with directions to Stayton, OR which was our next stop.

But first we traveled more of the old highway seeing a few more falls on our way, until we came for the cut off for the Vista House on Crown Point. We climbed for what seemed ages around little twisties and finally reached the top where there was a cool looking old building. The view of the river was amazing in both directions, but much of it was lost on me because it was at this point we noticed that my beloved miniature binoculars must have fallen off the bike at some point, so I was upset about that.

We shortly traveled down the mountain and headed toward Salem, OR, and then toward Stayton where my college buddy, Ken, and his wife Maria live. Regrettably, we ran into several significant traffic jams and sat in the broiling heat for a bit waiting for the long line of cars to move. That right emergency lane looked mighty tempting to me and twice I skirted down on the right in front of 50 or so vehicles.

Eventually, we were on I-5 where the traffic was moving. I noticed a white car behind me and there appeared an orange light on the roof of that car. I immediately got nervous thinking it was a police car – and as he rode behind me for awhile I was thinking that he was considering whether or not to ticket me for riding in that side lane. But then after a bit, the car passed and I noticed it was a regular auto with some kind of bright colored ball on the antenna. Whew! BUT THEN, right after that I looked over to the left and there hanging on my side was an auto with "SHERIFF" emblazoned on the door and the fellow inside with the badge was gesticulating to me. My stomach drops, but then I notice he’s giving me a vigorous thumbs up (After clearly reading our "All 48 States" sign on the back of the bike!).

In Stayton we visited with one of my longest old time friends, Ken Weaver (and his wife Maria). Ken and I met over 40 years ago. Hadn’t seen him since one of my coast bicycle rides back in the early 90’s, I think. We were college chums what seemed like a million years ago at Kutztown State College. We got to reminisce for a couple hours and catch up on each other’s lives. Ken and Maria live on 5 acres in a rural type setting and it was truly peaceful and quiet as the four of us sipped lemonade and talked about our lives.

Eventually, we had to get going. We called cousin Scott and got directions to the nearby town. Then we trucked about an hour to Corvalis, OR where my cousin Scott and his soon to be wife lived. Readers may remember that on the other side of the continent we had stayed with Scott’s sister, Leslie. (Whose little baby was pictured on the motorcycle on day 1 of the trip.) It was great seeing Scott and Sara. The two will be married at the end of the July and we were sure sorry that the timing for us attending the wedding wasn’t a little better.

After unpacking we all chatted a bit. And I munched on the humus and crackers that were laid out and it was delicious.

Karen’s new mc pants had arrived from Aerostitch. (Carla came through for us!) After we fixed the velcro calf adjustment, the bright yellow pants fit perfectly. Scott and Sara took us to a Corvalis vegetarian place called Nearly Normal and we munched on good stuff in the outside area.

When back to the house, Karen showered and got ready for bed and I fiddled with the AOL connection for waaaaayyyy too long into the evening. I tried all manner of things to get it working, but could not do so. Finally fell into bed at 11:45pm exhausted and frustrated at not being able to figure out the problem.