Friday thru Monday, Oct 10-13 2014
Pictures start here
Alberto writes:
Late in the evening I manage to connect with Markus by phone - “I had written you off” - he goes. Truth is, being new to the SMBC I did not want to pester him with too many questions. I shouldn’t have worried. Easygoing guy he is. We made the final arrangements to meet at the Black Bear in Tracy at 7:15 the next morning. The Black Bear Diner is on Hwy 205 at the Grant Line exit. He gave me a few directions and I was all set. He was very specific… “Clearly, he knows his way around” was all thought.
Up at 5:00 am, on the road by 5:30 am… I was way too wired to sleep and getting there early would not hurt matters. Besides Markus said that Karl would very likely be there much earlier, I could get to know him better.
6:30 am, and what do I see… Markus is already there, minus Karl. Hmmm, definitely this looks like a change of plans, but I said nothing. Markus received a text message from Karl indicating he missed the exit to the Black Bear and instead of turning around to have breakfast with us, he just kept on going. He was way… Way ahead.
All through breakfast Markus checked in his phone GPS our next stops and possible gas supply options. I was impressed at Markus’ thoroughness by checking every detail of the trip on his GPS and said to myself I have nothing to worry. Markus is in charge: “Brain you are on vacation… Markus is in charge”. I asked, “When are we stopping again?” - Ah, well get gas in another 30 or 40 miles, he replied. I thought, “Self assured. He’s the man!”
First Hwy. 205. A little later Hwy. 108, toward the sierras. As it turns out Karl had gone via Hwy. 120 Tioga pass while Markus and I went the way of Hwy. 120, Sonora pass. Somewhere past Pine Crest and at Dardanelle but before the Sonora pass, Markus decided to make a short stop to check his GPS. I am oblivious as to the reason for the stop, other than hearing Markus muttering: “I feel like an idiot”. “Huh? Excuse me Markus, how’s that? ” - He explained, “Alberto, the last stop the gas station was closed and this one has a sign NO GAS”. I can see he is a bit worried and feeling “like an idiot”, sometimes that is all we can do.
A few miles before the Sonora pass, my gas gage starts blinking: Fuel …. Fuel …. Fuel. My motorbike starts nagging (by the way I bought this bike from a lady, so I understood the nagging as a legacy from the previous owner). But I know this puppy. In the past it starts this blinking at 180 miles, which is exactly where we are. I should have 1.2 gallons left with 50 miles to go. 48 to 52 MPG… I am confident of making another 50 miles. Exactly the mileage needed. Close, but it should not be a problem.
We debated turning back 20 miles or more to get gas or taking a chance going forward. Markus has a 5.5-gallon tank. I have a 5-gallon tank. I said, “theoretically I am good for 250 miles, but I have never really taken my bike all the way to empty”. We consulted with some local kid walking his dog who confidently said “there is gas for sure 50 miles ahead at Bridgeport. ”Markus, don’t worry, I am sure we can make it”. With a worry on his face, Markus relents, “let us take a chance”, and off we went.
So, there we go up Sonora Pass, 9000 feet. The zenith comes and I revel in the downhill with some very scary 25% grade descents - Holly Molly! The view is outstanding; the trees are turning from green to gold. Markus cannot hold himself. We make a stop and he gets his camera to record the splendor.There in the distance a mile or two we can see Bridgeport. I knew it! We made it!! Pfrrrt. Prrrrrt. Prrrt. Cough, cough, and the bike goes Union. That’s it. Shuts down. You got it. Out of gas. The lady I bought my bike is getting even! Go ahead call me a nag! I’ll show you!
Markus sees me in his mirror getting farther behind and instantly knows. Outa-gas. Without much ado, tells me to sit tight, he’ll go to town a short mile away and he’ll be right back.Off he goes and I stay with my bike and 100 cows. Every cow is looking at me from behind a fence. Yes 200 eyes wondering what in heaven is this guy doing… Certainly, this guy has no hay. I got myself comfortable pretending to the cars going by that all as okay. 15 minutes later Markus returns telling the story about the gas stations and lack of containers… No matter, Markus is if anything resourceful, he sacrificed his water bottle to brig the fuel, way to go Markus!!Five minutes later we were on our way. Bye cows!! With a tinny bit of gas we make the remaining mile to Bridgeport and fueled up. The past is forgotten and ancient history.
Ten minutes later, five miles south of Bridgeport we are at a small restaurant. Markus indicated: “I want to check this place because we are staying here on the way back.” We had lunch. Not bad, but not great was my take. Being hungry however makes everything taste good.Highway 395 while interesting is uneventful. We get a great view of Mono Lake, which Markus explains is very toxic because it has no ability to drain, as a result over the years the water that goes to it only evaporates leaving behind mineral sediment that has accumulated over the years. Without an ability to drain… Toxic. Very toxic. There is no life in this lake.
Back on the road and some miles later we stopped for gas at a “no where town”…. I wondered, why is Markus stopping? Pulls his GPS looking intently. “Hey Markus, what’s up?” “Well, I need to know where we are going, I have never been here.” - WHAT?!! No wonder he checks the GPS all the time. This guy is a lost as I am! Sure had me fooled all along the way. Nice going ace! I worry not, because so far, except for running out of gas (not his fault really - ?) we have done rather well. We gas up once more and go for the final leg of the trip. Turning left from Hwy. 395 onto Hwy. 136. A sign indicates Pipe Stove Wells, 77 miles… Very uneventful miles. Pipe Stove Wells. Welcome and take a good whiff… and gag. Yes, the aroma sure takes your breath. Nice, very nice.
Dan later explained the huge septic lake down the street and something about wind conditions sometimes being perfect… Today, the wind conditions are perfect! A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet… But this ain’t exactly a rose, more like S—t, and sweet ain’t exactly what I have in mind.
As we are setting up camp coming our way is Ginny, Karl and Dan. Introductions… and off to dinner we go. Pipe Stove Wells offers dinner on a somewhat limited menu. Not bad. Not bad because the group is very active and animated. The baloney flies everywhere with Ginny leading the pack. This lady is a barrel of enthusiasm, and a unending supply of Death Valley trivia. Like I said the baloney a flies steady.
Forty minutes later Dinner ends. Ginny most cheerfully says - “Oh, gosh, these people have hardly eaten anything, I’ll pick up the tab”. From across the table Rich volunteers, “oh, no. You won’t”. - “But honey, it is not that much, they have eaten hardly anything I can put it on my credit card” (which she held on her hand and ready to hand over to the waiter). Dan quickly says “thank you Ginny”. Karl and Markus quickly join in gratitude. I joined the chorus and express my gratitude, “thank you Ginny”. Something is going on, of which I am not certain. Rich gets up indicating the need for the restroom and walks away. It seemed to me he wanted no part of seeing that bill paid by Ginny. I did not sense he being upset.
Hmmm, as he went to the restroom I hollered: “Rich, hope everything comes out okay”- “oh, yes it”, will he replied.
After dinner Markus and I retired to the camping section of Pipe Stove Wells. Ginny and Rich to their hotel room as well as Karl and Dan shared another room at the hotel. Thus ends Friday, the first day.
Saturday
Rising early in the morning, we went to Karl and Dan’s room. They had been up much earlier. Karl, up at 3:00 am, had gone for a 16 mile run. I knew there was something strange about this citizen. Later he admitted that perhaps it is time to hang the running shoes and stop marathon running. Dan, far more civilized went for a 2 mile run.
We all went for breakfast at the local facilities. Two options. Buffet for a million or so dollars or Continental breakfast for $7.50. You guessed it, Continental we had. But I assure you, the resort lost money on the deal. All four of us must have consumed enough food for an invading army of locust. Karl, I am certain has a hollow leg where all that food goes. Dan, no slouch, kept up with Karl. Markus and Alberto ere the only civilized having two of everything and I mean “everything”!
Leisurely, after breakfast, we went to some patio to talk the morning away. It was interesting to hear Markus and Dan recount the parallel trajectories of their respective work history. To spare you the details, it all boils down to both saying to their respective companies… Take this job and shove it! I aint working here no more!
We had a very relaxing and lazy morning. Earlier we had agreed to meet Rich and Ginny at Furnace Creek Cafe for lunch some 20 miles away. It was a great choice. Good food. Good company.
Okay, enough lollygagging; time to get acquainted with Death Valley.
Markus and I have never been to Death Valley so we went to the mandatory spots. Radzinsky Point, Rostakovich Point, Somewherovich Point - whatever, simply a great panoramic view of the desert. Bad Water, the lowest point in the US some 280 feet below sea level. On the way back we saw a small road called “artists loop” or some such name. THE BEST! A one-lane-road twisting and turning in a mini-canyon. As a motorbike ride… The best! If ever you get there, do it!
We returned to Pipe Stove Wells by 6:00 pm tired and, oh what a surprise, hungry. Ginny, Rich, Dan and Karl had already been drinking beer and sanitizing their innards. Lucky us, Dan sprung for the first round of drinks. Quickly I offered, “The SEVENTH round, is on me”. Ain’t that nice of me?
The baloney went into the night and by 9:00 pm it was time to hung-it-up. Agreeing to meet for breakfast by 7:00 am. Karl and Dan wanted to get going by 6:30 am. Night- nite.
Third day — Sunday
Today we head back home. Not all the way… Just toward home. Markus had too much beer last night, he had, mind you, “had to” go to the bathroom … or swim. He made enough of a racket to wake me up – he was trying to be quiet but I am a very light sleeper. All to the good as it was 5:30 am time to start packing the bikes and meet the other guys by 7:00 am as they had requested - and head onto Lone Pine for another round of “what we do best”… Eat!
It is now almost 8:00 am. No Karl, no Dan. Whatever happen to “we meet at 6:30 am”… Yeah, right! 8:00 am and we are all set. The four of us take off like rockets. Well, Dan took off like a rocket. The rest of us went by motorcycle. There is a head wind. A section of the road warns of desert dust blowing. Yep, there is plenty of wind and plenty of dust on this day. An hour later we arrived at Lone Pine. Good thing for the Rocket-man, the place is packed and he got us on the waiting list. Still we had to wait.
It was worth it! Pancakes, omelets and lots of coffee. Interesting, Dan and Karl had their own maple syrup. I was impressed. Such devotion to epicurean delight. Simple me, I can eat cardboard if I had to.Lone Pine is a sort of Old West Hollywood. The museum is well worth a visit, if you are lucky, Hoppalong Cassidy, William Boyd, will be there to greet you. I got my mug taken while shaking his hand. You would be amazed at how many pictures have been made there. Star Trek, Indiana Jones, most westerns you have seen. Present was John Wayne, Errol Flynn and others.Time to get going. More wind and dust. On the way Markus and I visit the Japanese Interment Camp of Manzanar. Not exactly one of America’s proud moments of history.
Short of Bridgeport is a camp ground by the name of Virginia Creek Settlement. The one Markus wanted to check earlier on the way up. Kid you not, for housing we had and old covered wagon, from the wagon trails of the old west. Markus stayed in one, I got the other. Dan and Karl selected the deluxe accommodations: an old fashioned cabin with bunk beds. This is definitely a find. I parked my iron-horse next to my wagon and I am ready to spend the night just like the old timers did. Yes, Go West Young Man! Okay. I am tired of writing and it is beer time! Back later.
Later. The Virginia Creek Settlement has an excellent diner. Good value. Dan had a pork-chop-plate big enough for a family of four. Tonight, when he gets home, his dog at will have… Yes, pork chops. During the dinner conversation Karl let out he had a tattoo that he came by while in Tahiti downing copious amount of whiskey. To give you a short summary, Karl’s story went something like this: While in Tahiti I had heard that this guy from New Caledonia did tattoos. Eventually I found this enormous guy with rippling muscles, a shaved head and a body all covered with tattoos.
I asked if he could do a little tattoo for me, he replied in a French accent: “Eh! I zoo not ave tam fo you, I cannot ive you tattoo”
So I went on my way.
Later that day, in a bar, the same guy was walking with a large bottle of whiskey trading beads for drinks. On that day you could trade the beads for something as part of some festivity. Well, this guy had no idea that I had gone to Chico State, if there is anything I did there was drink – “I can drown a fish!”.
And the story develops as only Karl can tell it. “… and the tattoo guy takes a swig from the bottle saying: Here, drink some more of this”, wiping blood off my arm from the tattoo needles - I took the bottle and went at it some more. As the bottle goes back and forth the guy keeps drilling black ink”.” Barely sober, I seem to recall… Somewhere on this island is my cabin and I barely have enough brain left to remember where. Tomorrow I am flying home. But the airport is not on this island! Drunker than a skunk, I got on a boat, and off to the other island”. You can visualize that boat crossing on your own “… Later, when I got back home I told my, then fiancé, Honey I’m home, Honey… I got a Tattoo!” You must ask Karl to give you an unedited version.
After dinner, we went to our assigned camping. The covered wagons, outside, had a fire pit and wood (for $5 bucks) - Markus lit a bonfire. The four of us talked until the wee-hours-of-the-night, read that, 9:00 pm. Everyone is tired. Another successful day.
Monday morning
It is now 5:00 am. I am awake. The rest are still sleeping. We are heading home today. Before doing that Markus and I are checking out the ghost town of Bodie some 12 miles away. Karl and Dan are heading straight home… or so I think. Memo to the reader: you have now wasted a 1/2-hour reading this baloney. Shame, shame. See you next Sunday Morning for … Breakfast!
This account was written by Anonymous, if any portion is inaccurate I do not mind. I hope you don’t either.
Some sources: Pipe Stove Wells http://www.deathvalleyhotels.com/
Manzanar http://www.nps.gov/manz/index.htm
Lone Pine Museum http://www.lonepinefilmhistorymuseum.org/
Virginia Creek Settlement http://www.virginiacreeksettlement.com/
