Giants and Big Feet

A gentleman I talked to up in Oregon somewhere said "anytime you make it through the day dry, this time of year on the coast,miss a good day.

That being the case, I had yet another good day! Temperatures started in the 50's and rose all day, not a cloud to be found (not that I was looking), great scenery, saw. Lot and still covered 232 miles. What's not to like? Oh, my helmet fell off my bike and cracked, that's not to like!

Day started with a great breakfast chat with a friendly gentleman from Germany who's traveling the world (see "oddities in California, oh my").

When I left the motel I started almost immediately into the Redwood State Park, run in conjunction with but separate from the Redwood National Park. As I mentioned previously, there is something majestic about riding a motorcycle through a forest of giants.

One of the Giants has been labelled "big tree", a title that begged to be explored. It lived up to its name. The tree is 21.6 feet in diameter, 68 feet in circumference (although that is a function of Pi, that is an awful lot of Pi!), and 304 feet tall, estimated to be 1500 years old (estimated because it's rude to ask a tree how old it is). From there I ok a nice hike on the Cathedral Trees trail. 

As I headed south I took advantage of the opportunity to drive down the Avenue of Giants, a sight seeing route through an old growth grove of ancient Coastal Redwoods, some 2,000 years old!

Further south again was a roadside craft display store called The Legend of Big Foot Carvings. They had a beautiful sculpture of. An Eagle that stood about 5 feet tall. I asked if they would ship it for me but they said no, I'd have to take it with me. We mutually agreed that it wouldn't fit in my saddle bag with the tent in there so I had to skip it. It would have been a steal (and made their day) at just south of $2,000!

Just down the road from there was a roadside oddity named Confusion Hill where gravity seemed to be on strike.

This place has been open since 1949 and was one of the original roadside attractions that sprang up all across the country after WWII to attract the new growing families that wanted to explore the freedom of a road trip in their family car (in our case a Mercury Station Wagon).

Then the fun began. I could have stayed on Highway 101 which had brought me all the way from Newport, Oregon but I wanted to stick to the coastline and 101 wanted to make a bee line for the Bay Area. So I turned onto a 44 mile stretch of old Highway 1, which I believe was the original Pacific Coast Highway before people chose speed over aesthetics.

The first (approximately) 20 miles were some of the most divine mountain dancing miles I've ever driven. Betty would have had to pry her finger nails out of the dash board if we had taken this road while in this area on our honeymoon! I on the other hand LOVE the constant sway left to right to left, accelerate, then brake, up shift and downshift, and a motorcycle is the ultimate mountain dancing experience. Heavenly!

After going up and over the coastal mountains the road came out to the coast again, after being absent from the itinerary for most of the day. Breath taking seascapes again dotted the foreground for the next 20 plus miles into Fort Bragg (which is not a military installation). 

At two points the road was lined on both sides by huge trees that toward a hundred feet or more over my head, then reached out to hold hands in the sky forming an incredible canopy above the road. I wanted to stop and take a picture but both times there was someone behind me and I was afraid of being hit in the near darkness beneath the canopy.

So I am spending the night in one of the few vacant motel rooms north of San Fransisco on a beautiful California Saturday night. I plan to be at my sisters house tomorrow and between there and my brothers place will probably spend 4 days exploring the Bay Area.

Oddities in California, oh my'

One of my concerns going into this adventure was whether or not I would drag myself out of my shell long enough to meet interesting people (nothing personal against relatives I will be visiting).

Someone once said that long ago a giant grabbed the United States by Maine, picked it up and shook it real hard and everything that was loose fell into California (hey, don't blame me, I'm only reporting what I heard!). So the loose things, or the oddities, are in abundance in California. We shall see, we shall see.

I met a nice gentleman this morning over continental breakfast at the motel where we were staying. I could tell he was not a local when I asked "how are you this morning" and his heavily accented broken English reply was "yes, and you?"

I sat with him and found out a number of things that we had in common (bear with me, this is a bit of a stretch):

His name was Hans, which is German for John, which is my middle name (what are the odds?).

He was indeed from Germany where he had been a teacher. My daughter studied (somewhat) in Germany for a year.

He was from near Munich, she knows where Munich is.

He recently retired and had always wanted to travel the world. His wife couldn't go with him but told him to go so as to not regret having passed up the opportunity. I imagine that Betty is saying pretty much the same thing.

His trip began in February in New Zealand, then went to Hawaii, then he flew to San Diego, rented a car and he is driving north to ... (And this is where it really gets bizzaro) wait for it, wait for it, I guarantee you will never guess where Hans' ultimate destination is - seriously, you'll never ever guess it....

Moscow, Idaho! (I told you you'd never guess it, you shouldn't have even tried)! My two sons went to University of Idaho, one lives in San Diego, the other in Idaho!

His wife would never get on a motorcycle, but he used to own one.

Very nice Herr, stood and watched me pack, wanted a picture of my bike, gave me the International Sign of approval when I started the engine - a very exaggerated grin accompanied by an equally exaggerated Thumbs Up.

So maybe California isn't so odd after all. I probably shouldn't think anything of the guy who pushed his shopping cart across a busy intersection in Eureka, wearing nothing but his underwear. Or the other guy down in the ditch alongside a busy divided highway, by himself, no car or other vehicle in sight, trying to lift a full sized davenport up and over the fence that separated the highway from a side road. Could have happened anywhere.

From Klamath to Fort Bragg, Ca

Check out my 232.3 mi Ride on Strava: click here

Day 4 S. Oregon to No. California

Check out my 163.7 mi Ride on Strava: click here

Incomplete info for day 3

Check out my 65.3 mi Ride on Strava: click here

Another quick hit

Stopped for lunch at Mattie's Pancake House but they closed at 1 p.m. So I went to an adjacent restaurant instead. I should have known I was in over my head when I saw it had a foreign name - Asana, it's a Yoga position but I'm not sure if it's Greek yoga or not.

It was so fancy that I was the only one in the place wearing white socks (and there were no Cubs fans either).

It was so fancy that the wine list out numbered the burgers by 6 to 1.

It was so fancy they frowned upon it when I dipped the corner of my cloth napkin in my finger bowl then used it to wash the bugs off the visor of my helmet.

It was so fancy the prices were all whole numbers.

It was so fancy that the free refills were $5.

It was so fancy the lady at the next table didn't eat her meal, she only took a picture of it.

It was so fancy that the conversation I over heard at the next table had French sub-titles.

The question was asked...

My older brother had suggested a pictorial explanation of the large black monolithic backrest on my bike and, perhaps, a selfie so everyone would know what I look like. So here goes:

The black appendage is actually a back pack or, as I have dubbed it, my suitcase (there are certainly things in there that no self respecting backpacker would admit to carrying). It was a Christmas gift from my lovely and thoughtful Michelle (and possibly her siblings but I must confess I don't recall - oops!). It has a large central compartment, assessable from three sides, with two expandable pockets on each side.

It fits down over a "sissy bar" that mounts behind the rear seat, facing forward, then I fasten it with a combination of five straps (when I remember to fasten them all).

When it is secured I cover it with the rain cover I nearly lost during my shake down cruise, then tighten it with a six foot adjustable strap around its girth.

As for the selfie - here you go. Unlike every other group picture I have ever been in, I am NOT the tall one in the back!

Day 4 - Everyday holds a possibility of a Miracle

I am checked into my motel for the night in Klamath, California, and when I walked into my room this is what I saw above the head of the bed:

It says "Everyday holds a possibility of a Miracle", but until the light hits it just right, it says Everyday Miracle.

If I had ever been in the frame of mind where I doubted the existence of miracles (and I am not) today may have been the day to dispel that notion.

My plan was to pack early, go to breakfast, two museums, then head south before the predicted afternoon rain moved in. That was the plan...

When I woke up this morning and peeked outside it was raining, not real hard but unexpectedly wet. So I went to plan B - go to breakfast, then come back to the motel and strap my bag to the bike. So as I was getting on my bike something on the poorly lit wet ground caught my eye. 

A friend gave me a tiny religious pin for my key chain to keep me safe during my trip. It is a tiny thing, about 3/8ths of an inch in diameter. The eyelet had broken off and it fell on the ground, never again to be seen had it not been for the wet surface reflecting some obscure point of light at just the right angle to attract my intention.

After picking the icon up and placing it in a secure place I headed down the road a few blocks to the restaurant. About the time I hit the speed limit I again caught a glimpse of something, this time on top of my gas tank. I have been traveling with Spuddy Buddy sitting in the middle of my handlebars but had taken him into my room to find a place for him to sleep.

I had made a special seat for him on the handlebars but had been using a very long twisty-tie to hold his legs so that the wind didn't lift him up off of his perch. I had forgotten to take the twist-tie off the bike but the wind figured out how to do it for me. The piece had blown off but somehow, instead of falling in the roadway, it came back and wedged itself under my gas cap.

Like they say on TV - but wait, there's more!

While I was checking out the museum, the rain stopped. That's not to say the skies cleared up; to the contrary. The clouds were thick as strawberry jam on wheat (I never could come up with those) and to the south they were dark and foreboding. But as I started out of town I was given one thin patch of sun shine after another. The road dried quickly and I never once got rained on, despite showers occurring all around me. At one point I even verbalized "thanks for the sunshine Betty, but I could really appreciate about five degrees warmer". Almost on cue the sun's spotlight diffused a little and the patches of light turned to areas of light, then the day began to brighten. I ended up riding on a picture perfect afternoon, just right for perfect pictures!

There is something awe inspiring about winding through a thick, dark green, luscious forest with magnificent redwoods towering above you and bright sunshine bathing your every move. I stopped so often to take pictures that I was hoping the electric starter on my bike didn't wear out. 

Betty had grown quite fond of the Oregon Coast and we made several trips here, but explored almost exclusively from Coos Bay northward.

The first several decades of miles south of Coos Bay stays inland, but once U.S. 101 (the Pacific Coast Highway) returns oceanside, it redefines spectacular. For my money, the best so far was Port Orford. When you enter town from the north the highway takes a bend to the left. At that spot there is a road that goes straight ahead up a hill. Painted on the road in large white letters are the words "Ocean view" or "view the ocean" or "ocean overlook" ( the words were big so I could see them but not big enough so I would remember them). Within two blocks you come to the top of the hill overlooking the bay and, in the distance, HumBug Peak, the highest point on the Oregon Coast (1700 feet above the ocean?). The interesting thing about this bay is that it has a very wide mouth, allowing storms at sea to make a mess of the harbor. So there is only one pier in the bay; a large tall pier with a very heavy duty winch that picks ALL the boats up and sets them on land, even the big fishing trawlers.

There was a visitors center nearby that had a handout showing a great hike up to the top of HumBug Peak, so when I got around to the south side of the harbor I stopped at the trailhead. The sign said it was over a mile to the top and I stood, helmet in hand, wondering if I should take an hour to check it out or continue my southerly progress along the coast. As I pondered the question my helmet answered for me:

"Take U.S. Highway 101 south for 74 miles"! I told you Betty was guiding me, this time threw the earpiece of my Bluetooth system!

If I were to name all the incredible sights I saw today I would simply be reading the road map! Beaches, bays, bridges, redwoods, blue skies and warm temperatures (short sleeve temperatures by the time I stopped for the night in Klamath, Ca.). 

I took 76 pictures today and it took 4 hours to download them!

Didn't get too far today

Today was an easy day, when compared to the long saddle time invested during the previous two days.

The weather was better - no rain during the daytime (it did rain last night whilst I slept), higher temperatures to begin with and got to do some sight seeing. Unfortunately, the clouds did not clear as predicted so the temperature did not hit 60 degrees, staying instead in the low 50's.

The day began with a stop at the Sea Lions Cave, a natural cave carved in rock by the ocean over many millenni. It has a 200 foot elevator shaft, dropping from highway level to the bowels (or at least bowel) of the cave. Inside the cave are many many Steller Sea Lions, which are brownish (unlike the California Sea Lions which are black) and grow to roughly twice the size of their brethren to the south. The males can grow to twelve feet in length and some attain a weight in excess of 2,000 (those would be in the caves with pizza delivery service).

The cave was really cool (literally and figuratively) but two things stick in my mind.

First, I was concerned because they had installed lights in the cave (to accent the rock formations toward the north entrance where there were no sea lions). Lights require electrical wires which are prone to being eaten by animals. So you can imagine my delight when I discovered that the wires were protected by running them through, ... Wait for it... Seal tight! (A little electrical humor there, trust me it was really funny).

Secondly, and more importantly, the view out the north entrance, was stunning.

On top of the second point is the Hectera Light House, still warning ships of impending disaster after all these years.

I stopped at numerous scenic overlooks and underlooks along the way.

By the time I reached Coos Bay and ate lunch I found one of the museums that I wanted to visit closed. The other museum I had put on my list doesn't open for regular hours until Memorial Weekend. I was, however, able to reach one of the volunteers who is going to meet me tomorrow morning to open the museum for me!

So I'm spending the night in another motel. Tomorrow I have two museums to check out, then skedaddle for points south prior to rain that is approaching from the north. If I'm out of town promptly I should stay dry and cross into California tomorrow.

Stay tuned -will the Frog stay dry?

p.s. Google is not allowing me to download my route today (network error), but I forgot to start the recording when I left the hotel. So my distance today was only 120 miles, but it shows about 95. That's okay though, cause no one really wanted to see it anyway.

Quick hit

Woke up extra early, threw open the curtains. It was O'Dark Thirty. Sat on the edge of the bed staring out into the pitch blackness and waited. Wanted to catch the instant when God hit the rewind button and pulled the sun up out of the ocean and relit another beautiful day. Must have fallen asleep 'cause I missed it...

Cute little fold up table in front of the Bay Window (is it called a Beach Window when the whole ocean is on the other side?). Reminded me of the RV in which Betty and I were hoping to travel the U.S. 

Husbands - give your wives one more hug, kiss and I-love-you before you start your day.

Over the pass and to the (drift) woods

Check out my 194.5 mi Ride on Strava: if at first you don't succeed, try this

Day 2 - Sisters to Yachats, Or.

195 miles in 5.5 hours

The window of opportunity that I thought I saw that would get me over Santiam Pass stayed open just long enough for me to crawl through it (I think Betty was holding it open).

When I awoke this morning the weather channel said it was 32 degrees (and that ain't Celsius folks) and it had snowed over night. However the on-line cameras showed only low hanging fog. So which is better - slippin' and aslidin' down the mountain or not being able to see the turns? They further predicted the temperature was rising all morning until rain swept through at 12:15 p.m. so I had the 3 hour window to travel two hours up and over the pass. No problem.

After grabbing a quick banana and bagel I headed west from Sisters. The road climbs almost immediately so it was only about 25 minutes later that I was freezing my arse off at 4817 feet. It was a good thing the speed limit was only 40 miles an hour because it only felt like 5 degrees! No snow on the road but the view was restricted greatly by the low bank of fog.

As I glided slowly down the west slope of the Cascade Mountains the temperature increased ever so slightly to the mid-forties. The road was dry but the mist of fog collected on, then flew off over, the windshield. I stayed low enough behind it to avoid getting my visor dirty so I could pop up like the Groundhog to read highway signs. Only almost killed myself once, which wasn't bad considering the conditions.

The big challenge so far continues to be the technology I am trying to employ. I have somewhere upwards of 150 points of interest marked on my navigation map, but a lot of them don't have an actual address (like covered bridges and waterfalls) so the GPS sends me right pass them without pointing them out. We'll see what happens with the Statue of Liberty.

The other challenge so far (and I believe it is behind me now) is ODOT (Oregon Dept. Of Transportation). In what is assuredly an economical decision, they took a short cut to repair a lot of Highway 20, my primary course thus far. The heavy traffic had caused damage to the lanes, but only on the two sides where the rubber meets the road. So rather than replace the entire highway they laid asphalt only in the tire bearing part of each lane. This leaves two swatches of nice new blacktop on either side of the lane and an older section down the middle of the lane that sits about 1/4" to 1/2" lower than the rest of the road bed. This low spot is anywhere from 2 inches to 2 feet wide and can be most unsettling for the tires of a motorcycle, especially one banked in a turn on a steep mountain road with on-coming truck traffic pushing invisible walls of wind at you as they fly by.

Every time I started to get chilled Betty would have the Big Guy part the clouds and shine a little sunlight on me, but even that wasn't enough to stave off leg cramps after riding for over an hour in 30-40 degree weather. Leg cramps do not go away as quickly when one is unable to straighten one's legs and the thought of stopping to take a break is of little comfort when you don't know if you can straighten your legs to hold your conveyance vertical.

Took some pictures at the beach in Newport, then took pictures of the West Coast version of the famous Newport Bridge, all the while recalling that, when I was a sailor, my ship moored in sight of the East Coast version of the famous Newport Bridge! Then I drove south a bit to Deanes Oceanside Lodge and paid an extra $20.00 for a room with a view because I know Betty was going to order up a spectacular sunset, despite the mostly overcast day we had earlier.

She seldom disappoints!

I'm back now. I had to run outside to listen to the sun sizzle when it hit the ocean.

So I am 550 miles into my Grand Adventure and looking forward to a myriad of scenic overlooks tomorrow. I should be on the Pacific Coast Highway for the next week and a half. Having fun, despite my complaining.

3-2-1 ignition, we have lift off

Check out my 353.6 mi Ride on Strava:  click here 

After more than a year of talking , an entire winter of planning, a shake down cruise and many sleepless nights, my next adventure has begun!

Usually when I was leaving on a big trip I would be up bright and early to get going. In fact my kids will tell you our road trips usually started about 1a.m., with them climbing sleepily into their seat belts and being asleep again before we pulled out of the driveway. This time was different however, as I rolled over several times denying the sunshine coming past the slats of the bedroom shades. I did get up, ate, finished packing the last couple items, took out the trash, turned off computers and TVs, water pumps and HVAC systems. I strapped everything down tight and "lifted off" at 9:53 a.m., with 11,934 miles on the odometer marking my starting point.

A couple quick errands on my way out of town and I was gone. I had remembered to turn on my navigation system and she wasn't happy. I am staying off of Interstates and she wanted so badly to put me on I84 west bound. Every time I took a turn it was in the opposite direction from the route to which she was trying to get me. (Is that right Lisa? Tom?) when I had cleared the western suburbs I intended to take 55 to 95 to Nyssa, then turn west toward Vale, Oregon. Somewhere along the line she caught on to my idea and began instructing me to take shortcuts to Vale. I thought I detected a bit of attitude in her voice as she told me to take the next left, then "stay on this road for 22 miles". I was expecting herr to come back with "I've got you now. You're in the middle of God only knows where and have no idea where your precious route is now do you? Well, DO YOU???"

A quick stop at the state line for an obligatory pic of the "Welcome to" sign, the first of 30 plus such pictures I hope to collect, and that's not counting a couple of Canadian Provinces!

I had been watching the weather forecast in both Boise and Sisters since last Friday. Nothing about Monday had looked good - cold, rainy and high winds, but as Monday came and went there appeared to be a small window of opportunity for Tuesday. It ended up being the right decision. It was a little chilly, a little windy, but no rain! The precip (do I sound like your local weather man?) should roll through this evening and by mid-morning clear out again for my dash to the coast.

So, 348 miles in the books, over budget the first day (I was already cold and not looking forward to camping in the rain so I got a motel room). To get my cost per day back down I may need to spend a couple more nights visiting with relatives (it's like diluting hazardous waste to get the parts per million below acceptable levels, even though the EPA says "the solution to pollution is not dilution". Hey, if it works for them...

Quick hits

The return trip was pretty much as expected with a side trip to Promontory Point to see the National Monument where the Golden Spike was driven into the last joint of railroad track, connecting east and west by steel with the first transcontinental rail line. So starting there, let me mention a couple things I learned:

The rail lines did NOT meet at Promontory Point! That was a fabrication of the press that collected to watch the event. The spot where the ceremony met had no name, it was out in the middle of nowhere (it is now called Promontory Summit). Needing a name to use in the newspaper, the reporters got out a map and grabbed the closest landmark they could find, Promontory Point, which extended out into the Great Salt Lake. The summit is on the north shore of the lake.

The government subsidized the expense of building the rail bed. The two lines (Union Pacific and Central Pacific) could not get a decision from Washington as to where they should meet (go figure!) and subsequently built two lines parallel to each other, expanding in opposite directions, overlapping by 250 miles before a final location for the joining of Eaśt and West was decided upon.

The two company representatives each got one ceremonial swing of the hammer, which was wired to the telegraph to be "broadcast" live. Both men missed the spike! So a foreman was brought in to finish the task, thus completing the first episode of Undercover Boss.

As for the bike I found out:

Frequent stops help immensely with all the little aches and pains discovered in my old body.

It is possible to go directly from "little too chilly" to "little too hot" without passing through "just right".

When passing a vehicle at highway speeds, remember that the right turn signal button, which would be pushed to let the other driver know you are pulling over in front of them, is directly below the ignition kill switch which, when pushed accidently, causes rapid deceleration.

Lessons learned and duly noted. Launch is scheduled for April 26th. 

Shake Down

As is the case with every shake down cruise my trip to Roy, Utah today was a chance to try out my gear, my techniques and my ability to utilize onboard systems.

Most everything went well. Those things that did not were clearly my fault. I discovered in Twin Falls, when I stopped for fuel, that I had fastened only three of the five straps that hold my "suitcase" in position. It was firmly and securely fixed in position and was not in any danger of coming off, or even loose. The two loose straps did however flap in the wind at 75 m.p.h. which resulted in one of the plastic clips breaking.

What DID come loose was the rain cover over the top of the bag. It has four sides with a pull string on opposing corners. Each pull tightens the two adjacent sides which, in theory, draws the bottom edges in so as to make the bottom small enough to keep it from sliding up over the bag. There turned out to be two problems with the cinching devices. First is the thickness of the material - it simply does not "gather" well. Secondly is the device that is supposed to keep the material gathered. It is a ball with a button that you push to release. After sliding into position and gathering as much material as possible, you release it and it locks.

 

The locking mechanism however is not secure enough to prevent it from sliding and releasing the tension. 

So just before I got off the Interstate in Twin Falls I happened to reach back and check the position of the rain cover. The front of the rain cover had slid up several inches above the bottom of the bag. The back of the rain cover was half way up the bag, allowing the rain cover to inflate and bulge above the bag. I nearly lost the cover and will need to find a way to secure it.

I discovered that pushing a windshield through the air at 75 m.p.h. plays havoc with your fuel mileage. Luckily my trip will be almost exclusively sans Interstate Highways and their relatively high speeds.

But while we're on the subject of speed let me confess that I scared myself. Not by cruising down the road at 75-80 m.p.h but by realizing that this speed approximated the speed at which we used to hurdle ourselves into the corners when we ran the half mile dirt flat tracks. At these speeds, and usually faster, we would throw the bike sideways into the corner and place our left foot on the ground to provide a balance point. Using a combination of throttle and balance we would skid our way around the corner, actually accelerating to turn further into the inside of the turn (and in those days it was against the rules to have brakes installed on our bikes). While visualizing sitting up and throwing the bike to the left at this speed, I was amazed that this ever was "normal". It scared me, making me realize that Betty was definitely riding with me.

The other thing that has changed with the years is my body. My back, hip and tush reminded me frequently that I was spending extended time in the saddle. But perhaps the biggest physical challenge will be the legs. The bike weighs approximately 800 pounds and can be a chore to support it while sitting still. I discovered it is even more of a chore after the legs have been bent at a 90 degree angle for two hours. This will make it easier for me to rationalize frequent stops however, bringing raved reviews from my other body parts.

The final discovery was that the Bluetooth speakers I've installed in my helmet to receive GPS directions were not able to overcome the ambient noise generated at freeway speeds. I simply could not discern what the "voice in my head" was trying to tell me unless I slowed to 65 m.p.h. or less. Again, this will be much less problematic at the reduced speeds at which I should be traveling.

With a couple minor adjustments when I return to Boise I should be ready to launch on the 26th of April. Wish me luck. 

I knew something was missing

So I've invited Spuddy Buddy to go with me.