The Breakfast Club: Nor Cal Camp and Ride

Friday–Monday, 12–15 Jun 2015

Pictures start here

Story by Alberto

The following is A Fictional Account of Factual Events… or, A Factual Account of Fictional Events, … huh? Whatever! Brace yourself, this is as good as it gets.

Well, it is official. Last week, on Sunday the 7th, at our final SMBC breakfast at Molly’s in Scotts Valley, The 2015 Ride to Weaverville got on the way. Mike Geggi, our newest joiner requested help concerning accommodations at the outpost. The help summary was: ”you are not likely to find anything on-line. You gotta-call-by-phone!” - Huh? Mike Geggi is far too young to even think in those terms. Not on-line? By … Phone? Who’s ever heard of that?! One way or another though he was assured not to worry. Not having gone there in the past I had engaged Markus: “Markus, if you are going… can I share room with you?” - Generous he is, replied: “sure, Alberto”. And I may add, Markus already knows that I snore loud enough to be heard from one tent, clear 30 feet to another tent. I’d say, Markus to be generous.

Today is Thursday the 11th, I am certain that everyone in this day is checking their bikes, getting ready. Tire pressure, oil, cleaning windshield, and packing all the basic reviews.

For various and sundry reasons I did not get to bed until midnight. Not a good idea as I am getting up at five in the morning. I wished, but I did not get to sleep at all. Up at 4:44 am. Love it! 4:44 magical number, don’t know why.

Quietly dressed, waking no one, slipped out of the house. Too early, so I went to my office, only five miles away. Washed, read the mail, a little of the news and decided I was too wired to lollygag any further. Got, to my bike and headed for the Two Bird Cafe on San Ignacio Valley to meet with Tom and others.

Tom is taking the lead on our way to Weaverville. “Meet me at the Two Bird Cafe at 8:00 am and we will head north”. Tom gave me a long-winded explanation of all the roads he would take while leading. When I asked: “Hey Tom, how is it you remember all these roads, distances and such?” - Tom with a very straight face replied:” Alberto, I am the smartest guy you have ever met in your life”… and he believed himself! While that may be true, it says little about him and more for all the dumb-bells I have met in my life so far. I, “cross ventilated” - fancy terms for: In one ear - out the other! Sorry Tom.

Shortly after arrived Marco, Mike Geggi and Dan. Unfortunately Dan is not coming along with us. He has the Moto-Mele (sp?) some kind of old motorcycle gathering. He was riding his Triumph - kind of a T100, more exactly a baby bike, despite the 500 cc of power.

Breakfast, in summary the Two Bird Cafe delivers in style, the food is excellent, enough said. Oh, I may add, Alberto sprung for breakfast for all, figuring on five people, how expensive could that be? My advise to you… At the Two Birds Cafe, do no figuring and pay for your own breakfast only! You can thank me later for this piece of wisdom.

9:00 am or there-about, time to head on out. Destination Fort Bragg. Heading to the coast had its own beauty. Rolling hills, forestry, beautiful clean clear day, etc. The day seemed to be making a promise and getting ready to deliver.

12:00 - Noon. We arrived at Fort Bragg with only one though… Food. By the Chevron station there is a facility, Sea Breeze or something like that. I had the beef barley soup, and for all those who favor soup, I’ll say it was delicious! Mike, Tom and Marco had a variety of sandwiches guaranteed not to leave then hungry. Good value.

Tom warned us by indicating, “At the campground tonight, there are no facilities so it is best to get your own food now” - “there is a Safeway a little further up”. Mike and I stocked some beer, bread, ham and cheese. Life is good.

Heading up to Weaverville, Tom was inspired. He took a pace that left everything behind (all humans included). Get going! Hold on to the handle bar… And crank it! Yes Tom, you may not think so, but that was a: crank it! By saying that you could have gone faster changes nothing. Poor Mike Geggi, he was way, way behind (he claims to like being behind? - yeah, right!) . That being said, I admit, I had a blast! Throwing the bike left and right is where it’s at. Fast or not, thank you Tom.

But, the Gods did not like it. Ah, they got even with this Speedy-Gonzales-Martin. At about an hour short of Weaverville, as Tom is “cranking the throttle”. His bike refuses to lean over on the turns. It is getting harder and harder. Marco spots his rear tire; “hey Tom! You have a flat tire!” At closer inspection, sure thing, Tom has been properly punished by the Gods. That rear tire is going flat.

Fear not. The group comes to the rescue. Marco promptly gets seated behind the rear tire, inspecting it for possible intrusions. Nothing! Again, re-inspect the tire. Nothing. “It has to be the valve, or the stem”, He proclaims. Only one way to test it, re-inflate the tire and listen for the air escaping. Alberto at the rescue, he is ready with his mini-air pump. Connected. Sure thing! The air is escaping AT the valve. Marco has an extra air valve, believe it or not - this is a Ripley thing! Replaced the valve and tried pump the tire once again. “Hey! Hey! Wait, it is not the valve, it’s the stem that has failed” Marco exclaims. And when Marco exclaims, there is no room for any other conclusion. It’s the stem. “Tom, you are done riding for this day”. “This bike will need tire service”. Tom has a AAA card but they will not do motorcycle. Well, mine will! - I paid an extra $40 to AAA and they made me a Premium Member! Meaning, motorcycle included. Alberto handed his card to Tom who called AAA.

Simple, or it should have been. Oh, no! Tom, for some time, has been talking to the AAA operator explaining that Northern California is not in Santa Barbara or where ever she wanted to send the tow truck. No, lady, I am near Garberville, northern California. And he is going around and around with her… - Mike, saves the day: - “Hey guys, there is an emergency road phone 100 yards down from us, we can connect directly to the Highway Patrol”. He goes to it and 10 minutes later he has the highway patrol arranging for a tow truck. [Editors note: the highway patrol connected Tom to the same AAA person he was attempting to talk to using Alberto’s cell phone. AAA arranged the tow.] We are told that the tow truck will arrive in 40 minutes. Way to go Mike!

As all this is happening, looks who rides by! Markus Baur on his GS with unicycle strapped behind. He is a reassurance just by being among us. There is little he can add or do.

We are finally relaxing a little. No longer wondering about Tom, or abandoning him to his ill luck… Nah, we would never leave him alone, however tempting! Okay, we’ll stay with him until we get the tow truck. 39 minutes later, by the clock, the tow truck arrives! 10 minutes later tom’s bike is loaded and heading to a shop that will do the job… Tomorrow. Tom camping? Not today.

At the shop, it was decided that Tom and Markus would go to Markus’ motel, as he was not camping anyway. Marco, Mike and Alberto headed for the campground at Albee Creek.

Albee Creek. What a place! The entrance to this forest of giant redwood trees is truly to behold. Straight out of the Lord of the Rings fantasy world. I was so carried away that at an intersection I did not pay attention and did not see the red Prius heading straight at me. Avoiding a collision was challenging. The “green-car and driver” had no concern for this human. He aimed to mow-me-down, how dare I come to his forest. The net effect is… Yes, hate to admit it, and now I have done it one more time: the bike went down. OUCH! Nothing happened to me, but my steed got another awee on the pannier. The red Prius, in its regal way, did not stop to verify if I was dead… pity, I would have loved to see him disappointed by finding me alive! Too many people in this world anyway. What is it with ecology minded, green, save the earth types? They are the meanest lot!

But, skip my diatribe (okay, I am not perfect, but darn near!). The campground. Whooweee, what a place! Giant trees, plenty of ground mostly level. Pitching a tent was a piece of cake.

Marco, ahh, this guy is something else. From a stove that can only be called deluxe he made some lentil soup, followed by a cup of tea with an infusion of brandy at the right degree of temperature. Marco making tea is a very exacting and deliberate performance. Mike, And I had purchased food at Safeway, if you remember. Cold old-ham, dry cheese day-old stale bread. Yum! You could tell Marco was genuinely envious. Aw, sorry Marco that we did not share our goodies with you.

Morning. Okay folks, Marco’s deluxe stove comes to live again. Secured his specialty mill and ground the coffee beans to within a micron of exactitude. He made a coffee, of which I took part. Simply stated, Marco has a good reason to be exact in his coffee; It was perfect! (Marco next year, If I promise now a bigger write-up extolling your talents… Could I have a bigger cup of coffee?) Ahhh. Coffee was ma-r-velous.

The morning’s conversation sure was animated. You put a well-behaved civilized Canadian to discuss social benefits with a deranged Peruvian and you are in for a very lively discussion. Marco, took the side of civilization stating, “we are not animals”, and left the deranged Peruvian to fend for himself. I think the discussion stopped short of crucifying the Peruvian… whew! Thanks for civilized behavior. That was close!

We finish breaking camp just as Markus and Tom arrived at 10:00 am. These guys were not about to waste any time. They herded Marco, Alberto and Mike and Yee ha! - hit the road.

[Editors note: Tom changed the route to Weaverville to avoid highway 36 due to the presence of smoke from the Saddle Fire near Hyampom. Instead we’d ride north to pick up 299. To make up for the lack of highway 36 twisties we took the lost coast instead of zooming up 101.]

Toward the Lost Coast we went. Another promising day… Later, rode to Ferndale for lunch. Mike sprung for this lunch… aww, I kinda feel bad whenever anyone pays for me, but I graciously accept. After all, allowing a good deed to happen is a fair thing to do. Thank you Mike. To call this ride magnificent is unjust to the ride. However a short ride it was. We headed to Weaverville by 3:30 pm or so. I had lots of pent-up energy. Too bad kiddo, save it for tomorrow. [I think Tom bought this lunch? Mike picked up breakfast the next day. Ed.]

Dinner. We try to locate some fancy restaurant… it was closed! We had to settle for the Mexican joint. What it lacked in food sure made up in good attitude. We all had a blast… you had to be there. Someone else sprung for this dinner, Rob, Glenn, … I cannot remember.

“Now what?” I asked. Markus: “ahhh, we troupe to the motel and get plastered” That was easily understood and put to action… the beer flowed until I flowed into my bed. Very tired. I have no idea at what time the rest went to bed.

Oh, I forgot, Glenn from Carson City, showed up in a Harley Davidson. What a beautiful brute! Not him! -The Bike!! Yea, yea, you are okay Glenn, don’t feel offended. Glenn was fun. Here is a guy, who you are not certain if he is telling you a fact until you hear the punch line. Now you know to have been had. Just to give you an idea: Glenn talked about his 40-pound cat! You think he is jiving you until he produces a picture of the 40 Lb cat denting the roof of his car. Never seen such a sized cat. A fact! Like I said, Glenn was a lot of fun.

Glenn will not be riding with us the next day. Something about his balance and yada, yada, yada. Instead he will guard the fort, or maybe guard the beer! Reputation precedes him.

Sunday. 7:00 am off to breakfast, compliments of Marco. [I think this was Mike’s treat. Marco bought breakfast on Monday. Ed.] We will do “the best part of the ride on this day” exclaimed Tom. And right he was. I have no idea were we went. If you want the details talk to Tom, Marco or Markus… I had no clue! And it hardly mattered, I came to ride and ride I did. Somehow Highway 299 and another road, which for 30 miles has no median lane painted on it, in other words: narrow, twisty and challenging. Coming back crossing the Klamath River 1/2 dozen times and arriving into Weaverville from above, from some ridge. What a view!

Somewhere along this day we had an event. Marco went over a rock the size of a man’s hand. It did no damage to Marco’s bike nor did it posed any danger to Marco except for the one millionth of a second of apprehension and ½ gallon of adrenaline shooting through his body… but, the rock went upwards missing Markus by very little. Thank goodness!
Alberto was not so lucky. The rock hit his left faring putting a sizeable whack upon it and taking the lens of the left directional light. Yes, my bike after this trip qualifies as a Warrior Bike. Nothing happened to me, to Marco and to Markus… all is well.

Sunday ended with another version of “Plastered”. Alberto: “what about dinner?” Markus and Marco in unison, “This is it! big boy - Drink away!” And… drink we did.

The next morning, was routine breakfast… highways 3 and 36 on the way to Highway 5… and home.

At the Bay, I saw Markus and Marco take a different highway. There I was following Tom.

Tom made the saying come alive: “At SMBC when you ride with us… you ride alone”. No sooner we came within shouting distance of 880, in the middle of incredible rush-hour traffic, Tom…. disappeared! Before I could say, ”Hey, I do not know my way around!” Too late, he was gone! Tom can split-lane with ease and comfort. I made an attempt to catch up, but that is all it was… an attempt.

Home did not come soon enough for me.

Thank you for reading. Alberto