Springtime on the Pacific Coast Highway

It never actually got warm today.  I discovered very quickly that what the locals say about the Northern California coast is pretty much true - the fog greets you in the morning and puts you to bed at night.  I sleep in a little on this Sunday morning and enjoy a leasurely breaksfast at the local Denny's in Eureka.  I'm not on the road until almost 10:00 AM.

I head south out of Eureka on US101, since California 1 doesn't begin until outside of Legget, about 75 miles down the road yet.  As I approach Fernbridge, California, I become intrigued by a thin little line on my map.  It curls along the coast, right up against the water, and heads out through the bustling metropolis's of Honeydew and Petrolia.  I decide to see what this road has to offer and I'm almost immediately gratified to find a beautiful, smooth, twisty road that climbs up into the clouds and around the hills.

The road remains wonderfully twisty, but that "smooth" part ends in about 10 miles...  For the next sixty miles, I'm treated to potholes, damaged pavement, ruts, bumps, cracks, sections of no pavement at all (usually right in the middle of a curve - that'll wake you up) and every other sort of bad surface condition you can think of.  Corners I should have been able to take at 50 were a bitch to ride at 25 as I got bounced from one shoulder to the other.  The area is dairy country as well, so around several curves, I was greeted by "Staticus Bovineus" staring in to my headlight as I grabbed a handfull of brake to avoid making a motorcycle milkshake in the middle of the road.  To top it all off, after I crested the top of the ridge, the ride back down the other side toward the ocean was at about a 45 degree downward tilt the whole way WITH extreme switchbacks thrown in for good measure.

I hope I provided entertainment for those calm California Cows...

BUT, once the first hell-road portion was behind me, I got what I came here for - the first views of the undeveloped and relatively untamed California coast:


And looking back up the hill ...


The road smoothed out a little for the return trip through Honeydew and back toward US101 again, but not by much.  Nearly every tight, maximum lean curve included busted pavement and seriously heaved ground underneath.  I determined, around mile 50, that the road had been real fun for the first 20 miles.

However, just as I was lamenting the stinking pavement and wishing I had never taken this Godforsaken piece of asphalt, I was slapped upside the head again as I rode smack in to this:


Without warning, all of a sudden I ride out of meadows and basic fir trees, into the Humboldt Redwoods State Park.



This is the first time I've ever been in to the Redwood forests and parks in California.  Pictures cannot do justice to the grand nature of the area.  These amazing trees, hundreds and even thousands of years old, provide a quiet, cool, damp and very peaceful area.  I was awed.  I've heard about this place all my life, seen pictures and such.  I didn't plan to come here, but my random road selection has brought me here today, so it's worth a stop to walk around a bit and enjoy the smells and the cool, crisp forest air.

After a little relaxation time amongst the Sequoias, I continue on to US 101 and on down to Legget, California.

California Highway 1's north end lies in Legget.  This is the road - the one I've been looking forward to riding.  As I get closer to the ocean, the cold air brings fog and low clouds back again.  The day has been chilly anywhere within 4 or 5 miles of the water with a persistent marine layer that won't let go.  Still, it's somehow classic and feels right for this trip.

Highway 1 winds its way along through some pretty cool stretches of twisting pavement - and pavement in terrific condition too.  Before long, I had popped back out of the hills and was back riding along the cliffs and over the surf again.

This is north of Point Arena, in the early afternoon:




It wasn't long after these pictures were taken that I had my laugh for the day.  About a mile down the road from this spot, the road remains straight for quite a stretch.  I was lumbering along at something close to the speed limit when I see a pair of headlights rocketing up the road behind me and in a flash, one red and one yellow bike passed me, one left and one right, like I was standing still.  I caught just enough of a glimpse of the two machines to see that their riders each had fully color-coordinated leathers - boots and all - to match their pretty, shiny, plastic motorcycles.  No big deal, I figured - after all, the per-capita number of bikes in this state is among the highest in the nation, and this part of the coast has some very popular roads that draw riders from all over.

So, I didn't give it much thought when these two riders went by me at lilghtning speed and disappeared into the mist ahead.  Imagine my surprise then, when I came up on their tails not five miles down the road when the pavement started to kink up again.  Now, you have to understand that for a person who rides a cruiser, I'm not shy about taking the corners - and I have the scuffed chrome and worn-in tires to prove it.  The two machines that the red and yellow boyz were riding in their matching suits were highly capable motorcycles, one a Honda and one a Kawasaki, that each had a good 40 degree lean-angle advantage over me.  But - you know how they say "it's the rider, not the ride..."?  Well, it turns out that these two kids coudn't corner to save their lives.  They'd go 90 in the straights and then drop the anchor well before each corner and creep around even the tamest turn at a rate of speed that would have made granny in her Pontiac laugh.  Maybe daddy bought their bikes and outfits for them, I don't know.  All I DO know is that after getting frustrated with me riding in their tailpipes for a couple of miles, they pulled off to let me by and I never saw them again after that.

So that's my good laugh for the day - "V-Rod smokes Gixxers"

Like they say, uh, Dude, it's the rider, not the ride ....

The rest of the afternoon's trip to Bodega Bay took only the next hour or so.  I pulled in to The Inn at the Tides alongside Highway 1 at a little after 4:00 in the afternoon - mostly because I was freezing cold and was becoming extremely uncomfortable - besides, I always have to remind myself that I'm on VACATION.  6 hours and couple of hundred miles in the twisties and with the bovines was enough for today - and my fingers were numb.

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