I had some work to do down in the Los Angeles area, and feeling poor (OK, and looking for a good excuse), I decided to take 'Babe the big red Viffer' instead of flying or driving the cage.

The trip down was not my idea of a lot of fun, but to paraphrase a cliche, the worst day riding, is better than the best day at my desk. Actual travel time was a little over 17 hours, and I split it between two days. Only highlight (actually low-light) was that I definately reccomend that you DON'T stay at the KOA in Shasta City, CA. My campsite was less than 100 yards from the railroad tracks, and the trains were coming through every 40 minutes to the second, Whistles on full. With all due apologies to Kevin Sr., Why why why why.....? Not the best nights sleep I've ever had.

You've probably already seen what I actually did with the riding time. No comments? I'm hurt.

I had to work down there in the evil tempuratures (as high as 114 degrees one day). I only did minor commuting. I rode in shorts and a T-shirt for the first time since I decided not to be a squid.

The ride back was decidedly different. I've posted some pix here, and captions for them. I hope to get back and do a full writeup as soon as I have the time, but It'll have to wait a few days.

Ron 8/17.01


I've just posted these thumbnails here, but you can click on any of them to go to the full output of my cheap camera.



When I went down, I knew that the temperatures where I was working were going to be high. Since I felt limited in how much luggage I could carry, everything that I brought with the exception of my leathers was for that kind of temperature. I rode home up the coast--specifically because it would be cooler. Well I was right. It was foggy with that wet cold kind of fog that they get, and I just about froze my arse off.



One of the few times where the fog lifted for a while. You can still see the fog drifting around, but the sun did actually come out for a few minutes.



Just to the left of the previous picture, there is what I believe may be the perfect beach. There are even a couple of palm trees down there. There is only one problem...

I bet they use it to film Porno movies



I stopped after coming accross the Golden Gate Bridge. Luckily, traffic was light.


I talked to, and then met up with Fish. I'm impressed. He seems as cool in real life as through the filter of the fingers on the keyboard bit. He told me about a campground in a place called Olema. It is another one that I can't reccomend to bikers. The woman that I spoke with had what I would call a serious attitude problem, and I guess I have a hard time with $20 plus tax for the 8 by 10 foot plot that my bike and I took up for about nine hours, and three flushes of the toilet. They also wanted almost as much information to give you a campsite, as I gave my mortgage company when I bought my house.



I was out of there within minutes of 6AM, and headed up the coast again. I've forgotten the name of it, but there was a truly picturesqe lighthouse (I take lots of lighthouse pictures--you should see my protfolio). I had to stop and wait about ten minutes for a clear enought spot in the fog to get this one, even though the wind was blowing pretty hard at this point.



A little further up the coast, I went out to the furthest west point of the contiguous United States. You can't see it in the fog, but directly above the bike, and only about 150 yards away, is a massive lighthouse called the Point Arena Light. All I could see was the flash in the fog when it blinked. It did have a foghorn running, and though I didn't know what it was when I first heard it, I could hear it through my earplugs at well over a mile away.



What trip up the California coast would be complete without driving through a tree? The lady running the admissions booth was really cool, and we (goodnaturedly) dickered over the price. It was supposed to be $3 per vehicle. I asked if there was a discount for bikes, and she asked how long I was staying. I said I would only be a few minutes, I just wanted to get the picture. She told me a dollar, but that she would cut cards double or nothing. I think she stacked the deck.



Now this is what I'd call Surf-N-Turf.



For those who don't know. Every one of the thirty-odd bikes I've owned have had a name. Some I've named, some were named by others. This one was named by my wife. It is Babe the big red viffer, made as a comparison to Babe the big blue ox. Since I was going so close, it seemed that it would be a shame not to let the namesakes get aquainted.



And as if watching for deer wasn't bad enough. Look what else is along the road down there.



I still think the sunsets in Oregon are the best. This one is at Bandon Rocks in Bandon Oregon. The city hires a Pipe Band to stand out there an play bagpipes all summer at sunset. It is really cool, but I do wish they would hire someone who can actually play. I love the pipes for certain sounds, but there were at least two there that evening that were hideous.


After that, I had to get pretty busy to head for home. I rode the rest of the way to Lincoln City, and then took highways 18, 99W, I-5, and I-205 in quick succession to get to Portland, then headed out to Gresham. The cops are wayyy too thick in Newberg at 1AM, but I didn't actually get stopped. I think that this is the longest single riding session that I've ever done. Though there were probably a dozen five to ten minute breaks, I was basically in the saddle from 6:20AM Thursday to 3:40AM Friday. I have no feeling in my throttle hand, but other than that seem little worse for the wear.

Ron