Rt.96 was pretty far above
the Klamath River in this shot. The curves in the river, pretty
well match those in the road. Waaaahooo!
I walked out of the motel Wednesday morning and saw that it had finally rained during the night. I wiped "Bear's" seat and tank off with a motel towel (careful not to make it dirty now) and loaded my gear for another day on the road. It was cool out, so I put my sweatshirt on under my jacket. I rolled onto I-5, heading south. I passed the California border and it wasn't long before I made a right turn onto California Route 96. Another beautiful road .. . well maintained, almost deserted, full of hills, mountains, and twisties. The road pretty much followed a forested valley trenched by the Klamath River, and the river chased the road all the way to the end. It had a lot in common with the Lolo Pass road in Idaho. Well .. almost. There's a town up on Rt.96 named Happy Camp; I sure didn't see anything like it at Lolo, but the town name pretty much described my mood. I also passed a bunch of signs proclaiming that I was passing through the "Jefferson Republic," whatever that might be. I thought maybe these hills were alive with more than music. This ride was about 200 miles of great scenery, pretty good twisties, and more than a few smiles.
Rt.96 was pretty far above the Klamath River in this shot. The curves in the river, pretty well match those in the road. Waaaahooo!
Near the end of the road, coming down off the mountains, I had one of those things happen that only occur to other people, usually in the movies. I noticed two slim young women standing next to the road. They started waving at me, then jumping up and down and waving both arms .. . big smiles on their pretty faces. It was obvious they wanted me to stop. I slowed down, wondering what the heck was happening; maybe I'll get real lucky here or something. The women were wearing blue jeans and flannel shirts, and both were in their 20's . This was the stuff for sex fantasies, not motorcycles rides. I did what any red blooded American boy would do. I just rode on by. The one-quart beer bottle one of them was drinking from (at 10:30 am?) didn't have anything to do with my decision either. If I was writing a script for a movie, this scene would have been a little different. I'd be riding away in the sunset with a big smile, rather than cruising on by in the morning, scratching my head in wonder. What the heck was that all about. The possibilities, good and not so good, are fairly limited. They wanted a ride; they wanted to give me a ride, or they wanted to take me for a ride ... can there be any others? I'll guess it was the latter ... but, but, they were smiling. Oh well, what would we do without the faint hearted? I moved on down the road and out of the mountains. Near the end of Rt. 96, I passed 3 or 4 sport bikes climbing toward the high road I'd just played.
Rt.96 ends at California Route 299, a more heavily traveled road with logging trucks slowing the flow. I passed one at pretty good speed only to find an oncoming ChiP in a cage as I completed the pass. Much to my relief, he just kept cruising; I get a little paranoid now and then. Soon enough I ran into the famous US-101. It was all SLAB in this area. I turned south onto it anyway and followed through Eureka and the redwood forests to California Route 1 at Leggett. I'd been this way a few years back, but I had been trapped in a cage. This was to be the breathing culmination of years of fantasies, riding the California Coastal Highway. Dang, it felt good. I'd already run the length of CA-96 that morning and now I was going to do the northern coastal highway in the afternoon. Yeeehaaaaa!
I had to drive down the coast a ways before I could find a place in the sun for "Bear."
And so I did. There's several miles of real tight twisties on Rt.1 before you get to the coast. I drove this road slow though, savoring the scenery and just being there. When I rounded the first curve where the road met the coast, I saw 5 or 6 bikes of different breeds with the riders hanging around enjoying the view. If I was going to get down the coast past San Francisco today, I couldn't stop much, so on I went. I had decided that my prior trip down this road was for sightseeing and this one was for riding. If you only go once, take your time and enjoy the views. The whole dang road lives in a postcard. You can't see stuff like that in Missouri (or likely where you live either). I drove the speed limit most of time. I couldn't sustain it in some places, the signs were faster than I wanted to go. After the road curved inland just north of San Francisco, I noticed a sign pointing to US-101 and San Francisco. I took the bait and back I went to the SLAB. This detour added a few miles, but saved a bunch of minutes (I think).
I passed this wide and deserted beach quite a ways north of San Francisco.
I didn't mind getting on US-101, even with the evening traffic. It wasn't dark yet and it was past the rush hour. There was still plenty of traffic going over the Golden Gate Bridge (a rush for me every time) and I didn't pay enough attention to the signs overhead. I was in the left lane when I saw the exit on the right for Rt.1 south. Before I knew it, I was headed for Lombard Street. OK, says, I, just take the first right, go far enough west and you'll find Rt.1 out there somewhere. Wrong. I rode "Bear" around the Presido for a few minutes before deciding that if there was a way to Rt. 1 through here, it wasn't obvious and not very many people were using it. In a few minutes I was back on Lombard Street and into the Exxon station getting direction. OK, take Lombard back west, and get off just before you reach the bridge. Worked OK for me.
I was hoping to make it to Monterey that day, but it was now dark and getting pretty chilly. I passed by a motel with a vacancy sign in Santa Cruz. I stopped a block or so away for gas and then decided to turn back for a room. Geeze, they wanted $89 + tax for a room at an ordinary road-side motel. The three matrons working at the counter were giddy when they discussed the status and then offered me room 7 (geeze, right next to the office too). I told them I thought I'd just go on down the road. They said that the rooms get more expensive later. I told them I knew a place near Monterey that was worth the drive. The Super8 is in Seaside, not Monterey, but yup, they always have a room - its a big motel.
I forgot to write down the mileage for that day. Automap says "Bear" and I traveled about 705 miles that day though. I can't argue with that. I started about 7:00 am and landed in Seaside around 10:30 pm. By now, my forearms were protesting, although not quite as persistently as my butt. Hmmm, this getting old stuff is getting older.
Visit my ride down southern California's coastal highway, past Big Sur and on to Long Beach. You may also return to the Oregon coast and Crater Lake National Park.
