Saturday–Tuesday, 11–14 Jun 2005
Pictures
Dan Bockmier
Saturday
Day 1 begins as I wait for the group to pass on 19th Avenue at 7:00 AM. Lorraine is in her Silver Surfer and I am on my old RS boxer. About 7:20 the riders from the donut shop wave as they pass and the adventure begins. Fred and Irma join just before the park and we are on our way across the Golden Gate and up 101.
Arriving at Pete’s we have clear skies and a fine crowd. In no particular order the riders are Tom, Carl, Fred, Irma, Gregory, Jerry HazMat, Jerry Legal, Ramon, Jill, Dave G, and John Barney Wheels. Hope I didn’t leave anybody out but that’s the best my recollection can muster at present. Lorraine pulled her chase car into the parking lot just a couple of minutes after all of us.
Breakfast was alive with conversation except for Ramon who volunteered to ease congestion by being seated alone at his own table. Do you think he might have had anything to do with that mountain of whipped cream on the pancakes that were ordered with no butter?
Carl, Fred, Irma, John and Gregory were headed back towards SF after the checks were paid and that left seven riders and a chase car to head up 101 for Mountain View Road and points North. MV Road was a worthwhile undertaking and I would put it at least on par with Coleman Valley Road and any others that cross the Mendocino Forest. Once we got off Hwy 1 and joined 101 we saw dozens upon dozens of Harley riders on the way to a big annual camp out.
We picked up Tom’s college chum, Peg, in Arcata and then zoomed 299 like barn shy ponies until we arrived in Willow Creek and checked in to Le Motel de Grand Pied. Bill the vineyard man arrived on his Wing, down from Oregon and right on time. We all shot the breeze over drinks and Dave’s favorite chicharrones at the motel. Then we sauntered up the hill for some dinner at Sam’s. Jerry Legal stayed back and caught up with a good book and some Zs. Before long we were all in slumber and had ‘em set for 6:00 AM.
385 down, only 860 left to enjoy.
Sunday
Slight grey resting on the mountaintops and brisk temperature greeted the morning. With the wraps off and the layers on we set out for Weaverville, 50 miles of gorgeous 299 and some vittles. Have to say the Nugget was not a bright spot of culinary repast but hunger makes most any meal a treat and few plates were not cleaned of their offerings. And besides, that stretch of 299 we took to get there was as sensational a ride as there is. I can see why Fred found himself in violation last year because that road is just begging for it.
After a fill of dino we were ready for action and the next 200 plus miles of river roads awaiting us. Bill was leaving us via Yreka and heading home to the 33rd state so Dave, and Jerry HazMat were going to skip the short cut along Scott River Road from 3 to 96 and escort Bill for lunch near Yreka. Dave convinced Jill that Scott River Road was a nasty, narrow, bumpy and unpleasant road and she capitulated to the logic that she would be better off following them the long way up 3 to 96.
We cooked in the sun for a bit at the filling station while Jerry HazMat did the Harley thing and made roadside repairs. The Paparazzi took full advantage of the situation. Since the newest bike I own is 23 years old, it is best I restrain from further comment as but for the grace, you know the rest.
We had discussed stopping in just 20 or 30 miles at a rest spot along the lake for coffee removal and by the time we did so Jerry Legal and Ramon had moments earlier chosen to blast ahead of the pack and they were on their own the rest of the day. I followed Tom and Peg to Scott River Road and it turned out to be one of the highlights of the route. Happens it was just repaved last year and its direct proximity to the river was very inviting. The burgers for lunch in Happy Camp were mouth watering and everything that breakfast wasn’t.
Fabulous fast downhill sweepers through the Hoopa Valley Reservation made a nice close to a breathtaking route following the Trinity, Scott and Klamath rivers. No corps of engineers could ever design such a magnificent stretch of roads, had nature not forced them into the splendid bending organic paths chosen by water at will.
Dinner at Sam’s was somewhat earlier this evening and we bantered outside our rooms afterward until it was time for shuteye. We all spent a moment describing our first motorcycle and Ramon’s story of riding his first bike on a golf course to go fishing on the course lakes might have been the most unusual.
670 down, only 575 left to enjoy.
Monday
Now we are getting some weather! This morning was bright and clear from sun up until sun down. Hwy 299 from Willow Creek to Weaverville was calling again and the sunlight was very dramatic as it streamed down the mountainsides from the East. Would that that bit of road could be captured and unfurled in front of us every Sunday morning.
Several riders were headed home this day and would not be putting in at Lake Almanor. Dave, Jill, Jerry HazMat and Ramon were taking a powder south at Redding after we all stopped to check out the Sundial Bridge. Once we parted it was Tom, Jerry Legal, Lorraine and yours truly headed to Burney Falls.
We stopped first at a diner in Burney for some lunch and once rejuvenated by calories we pressed north to the falls. It was getting fairly warm and the falls turned out to be a fine place to cool down. As we descended the trail to the floor of the falls the air became cool, moist and sweet. We were in no hurry to leave and decided to idle over to the lake as well, where we skipped some rocks in tribute to more youthful days.
The ride down 89 started in some prickly temperatures but altitude ensued along the route and soon we were in comfort once again. One memorable moment was passing a mini-van with consul license plates at ninety-five mph. This van driver would dog every corner at forty or below and then speed up to seventy on every legal or safe passing stretch of road. We finally had had enough.
Just before entering Lassen National Park there seemed to be about ten miles of very fast downhill curves that could safely thrill. Needless to say we could not avoid temptation. Maybe we just got the itch after flexing the ponies to pass that pea brain in the van. In any case it was scintillating.
We then climbed the road into Lassen and up to about eight thousand feet. There was plenty of snow everywhere but the road. We may have been fortunate the road was open this early in June. We stopped to drink in the scenery several times. It was truly awe-inspiring as we began descending from the peak and you could see the vastness of the distant lands below from one turn after another.
Finally arrived at the Plumas Pines Resort where Tom and I took a swim in the chilly Lake Almanor waters. Refreshing would be an understatement but foolhardily we dove in more than once just to have not wasted the opportunity.
Dinner on the lakeside veranda was the high point of the evening. I had a bit of difficulty attempting to get a traditional gimlet out of the youthful staff but once we were beyond the Mr. Boston’s lesson all was well.
940 down, only 305 left to enjoy.
Tuesday
A slower start this morning as Jerry Legal worked overtime on his sheep counting. I think we may have had the shortest breakfast ride of all time when we went just one mile from the resort to Carol’s Café. There we found absolute bliss on a plate. The hot cakes here were without a doubt among the top ten on my all time list. They take it seriously when real maple syrup is on the menu. Little did I know then that this was to be only the first zenith of the trip.
I had read or heard that the length of Hwy 70 that follows the Union & Southern Pacific railroad and the Feather River is as majestic a byway as there is but not until you ride it will you know what glory it truly holds. We were hampered somewhat by bridge work along some twenty miles of the forty that this fine ribbon runs but even that could not take the beauty from this road.
At one point I could no longer resist her call and I fired away from a construction stop determined to feel her grace at speed. I think the thrill only lasted about seven or eight miles before the next construction slow zone but that was just as well for it was a double fine zone, a long steep drop over the edge and mortal fear of lean angles I have not known for thirty years and have no business undertaking, was tugging on my jacket.
The thrill that pulsates in your grip as you tear an under square twin through 6000 RPM on your way out of the apex is an arousing passion, which art, woman or nature does not tender. As much as I am fascinated with many contemporary motorcycles and luxury touring bikes, I have to wonder if riding them would provide the sensation of living that was there for the taking this day on Highway 70.
After stopping to rest and take in the view of the Butte County valley ahead, Jerry and Lorraine set out on an expedited path home and it was left to Tom and me to continue the scenic route to its conclusion. Once we reached the valley floor the heat and the masses began to take a toll. We found an excellent oasis in Williams called Granzella’s and ducked in for sandwiches and old-fashioned fountain drinks. This place was a real treat and just the type of punctuation mark that makes for good road trips.
I began to yearn for the end of the journey as we approached Clear Lake, too many vehicles and too damned hot. Even the Silverado Trail was spoiled by congestion. I finally split from Tom at 121 and rode across the Napa valley to the Golden Gate and blessed relief from the thermal torment. I arrived home at five o’clock and found Lorraine had beat me by almost two hours. Caught up on my snail mail and checked to see where breakfast was this Sunday. See you there.
1245 down, next journey to go.
Dan’s pictures
