Fast and hot ride in northern California

I just got back from a six-day, 1,500 mile trip to northwestern California. This trip included a rather vigorous and hot run on the black-diamond route of highways 36, 3, and 299, with temperatures reaching 100 degrees at the mid-way point of Weaverville, California.

To start, I rode south through the eastern side of Oregon’s Willamette Valley, then cut across from Lebanon to Philomath for my first bio and gas break of the day. Highway 34 from Philomath through Alsea to Waldport was in fantastic shape and I practically had the road to myself. When I reached the coast in Waldport, it was time to add a layer under my Aerostich Roadcrafter to fend off the increased chill.

2012 Suzuki GSX-R 750

Shortly after, a rider on a Yamaha FJR1300 whizzed by me, then another. Because of numerous members of the Anti-Destination League restricting their forward progress, I caught up with them. Then the race was on. The lead rider was rather assertive and stayed ahead, while the second FJR pilot and I maintained a brisk but safer pace a few hundred yards behind. One by one, we passed slow cars when possible. I was impressed by how quick and nimble the FJR can be.

We eventually stopped at a gas station in Florence and chatted. Bruce and Dwayne were out on a day ride from Eugene and were still getting acquainted with their new-to-them FJRs. Bruce was a bit high-strung and ranted rather colorfully about slow cagers, especially those driving the Toyota Prius. We mutually wondered why people who drive them insist on going so slow.

I needed to keep moving on, so I said my goodbyes and continued southward. Soon I was in Coos Bay, checking into the Best Western and unloading my gear. Dinner was Hungarian goulash at the Blue Heron a few blocks away.

The next day was a sedate run down highway 101 into Fortuna. Dinner was great conversation, food and beer at the Eel River Brewing Company next door to my motel. After the carb-only breakfast provided by the motel and a protein bar, I left the next morning heading east on highway 36. My pace was moderate and the ride started out with mist on my face shield and damp roads. After 20 miles of riding inland away from the coastal weather, the pavement dried out and my pace quickened.

Rider and GSX-R750 on Highway 36

I got into Weaverville by 10:30, and after getting gas, I ate breakfast at The Nugget. After parking in front of the restaurant, I didn’t even have my helmet off before a gray-haired gentleman emerged and started chatting me up about my bike. Then he began to tell me all about the numerous fast bikes he’s ridden and owned over the years. He seemed rather proud of the fact that a BMW S1000RR seemed a bit slow for his tastes.

After a nice breakfast, I backtracked on highways 3 and 36 toward Fortuna. I stopped at Grizzly Creek Redwoods campground and got chatted up by a mechanical engineer named Marvin, who was visiting the area from Arizona, doing some soul searching about his career and where he wanted to call home.

Back in Fortuna, I gassed up, then headed north on highway 101 through Eureka before heading inland once again, this time to my friend Mark’s house in Kneeland. Mark and I had met by chance at The Nugget in Weaverville back in 2009, and have been friends ever since. He had just purchased a brand new 2014 Suzuki V-Strom 1000 so we spent a bit of time checking it out and talking about bikes in general.

On Wednesday, we met Mark’s friend, Jim, in Eureka. Jim was riding a Moto Guzzi Griso, Mark was on his new Strom, and I was on my GSX-R750. We rode into town and had coffee at the very cool Black Lightning Motorcycle Cafe. It was neat to see a write-up and pictures of the trip to Steens Mountain Mark, his wife Janice and I took back in 2010.

We then headed south on 101 to Fortuna before heading inland on highway 36. I was in the lead. Going past Grizzly Creek state park, three guys on BMW sport-touring bikes pulled out in front of us. One by one they pulled off and let us go past. Apparently our pace was a bit too fast for them.

By the time we reached Hayfork, the temperature was into the 90’s. We stopped for beverages and snacks, then began the really fun — and challenging — part of the trip, the section of highway 3 between Hayfork and Weaverville.

Mark led on his V-Strom, and although he was still breaking in his bike and didn’t want to get above 5,000 rpm, it took a fair bit of effort for me to keep up with him on the numerous 25 mph curves of highway 3. In the straights and faster curves, my Gixxer excelled and both the Strom and Griso had a hard time keeping up. But in the slower, tighter curves, the V-Strom excelled. I recall a few times when I was on my 2007 Suzuki V-Strom 650, riding up the tail pipes of sport bikes in the tight twisties, and was reminded just how nimble the Strom really is.

We made it to Weaverville safe and happy, but knackered. The temperature had reached 100 degrees by the time we stopped for lunch at Trinideli. We went up to the Chevron after eating to get gas, and saw two guys on BMW GS’s hanging out. One of them came up to talk with us. They were on a big trip from Colorado and had gone through several break-downs. One bike’s fuel system had died and the throttle cable of the other had broken. They were waiting for a new part to get shipped overnight to a local repair shop.

We headed west on highway 299 and, although quick, we ran a more moderate pace due to the notoriously high law enforcement presence. We also got held up by slow cagers. California drivers tend to pull over and let you pass, even log truck drivers, but drivers from other states don’t seem to have a clue about this courtesy. We got stuck behind an ADL life member with North Carolina plates that refused to pull over and let the string of impatient cars stacked up behind him go past.

We stopped in Willow Creek and got some provisions from the local grocery store. I bet our sweaty and road-weary presence was quite a sight to the other customers. Our final stop for the night was Jim’s camp spot in a private RV park 25 minutes further down the road.

When we got up the next morning, we found fresh bear scat in two spots within 50 yards of our camp site. After breakfast, Mark and I took off on 299 west while Jim hung back to get some chores done on his camp site. At highway 101, I headed north while Mark headed south back toward his home in Kneeland.

My ride north was uneventful. Once I crossed the border into Oregon, I noticed a huge law enforcement presence along the highway. There were radar traps seemingly every five miles. Prior to that, however, my low fuel light began flashing and by the time I got into Crescent City, my reserve meter said I had only 5.2 miles to go before hitting empty. It took 3.48 gallons to fill my tank, making me wonder if my Gixxer has a 3.5 gallon tank; I had always thought it was 4.5 gallons.

I stopped in Bandon for lunch, then got into Coos Bay around 3 PM. The temperature there was 87 degrees, courtesy of hot east winds blowing down the coast range. Dinner was at Shark Bites in downtown Coos Bay, dungeness crab cakes and halibut fish tacos, with a nice Eola Hills chardonnay.

Friday, the last day of my trip, was intended to get home as efficiently as possible. That meant cutting inland on highway 38 from Reedsport to I-5, then boogying up the freeway to home. I was tired and was suffering from some kind of sinus infection or allergies or cold that developed the night before. But, I got home safely and with a big smile on my face. It was quite a ride.

Ride Report: Taking the GSX-R750 to Northern California

After returning home from a 2,800 mile ride up through British Columbia to Hyder, Alaska on my V-Strom, I stayed home a full day and two nights to regroup. Then I left Monday morning on my 2012 Suzuki GSX-R750 and headed south. The intent was to work my way to Fortuna on the northern California coast, then spend a day riding the loop inland on highways 299, 3 and 36, then backtrack my way home. It’s a five-day ride.

The ride to Coos Bay was pleasant and I had excellent weather for it. I went south through Estacada, Molalla, and Scio, and confusing Lebanon before heading west on highway 34 to Philomath. I gassed up and ate a snack at McDonalds under wonderful sunny skies.

The stretch of highway 34 from Philomath through Alsea and into Waldport was like butter. There is very little traffic, the pavement is in excellent shape, and the blend of curves is like butter. The Gixxer barely broke a sweat, nor did I.

I stopped along the sea wall in Waldport to give my ass and back a rest. It was foggy and there was the faintest bit of salty mist in the air.

It was much cooler heading down the coast on famous Highway 101 than it would have been if I’d stayed in the Willamette Valley. The temperatures there were forecasted to get into heat-wave territory.

The Gixxer ran great. That bike makes me think a Swiss watchmaker and an Olympic athlete hooked up and had a kid. It’s not comfortable like Lay-Z-Boy, though. By the time I reached Fortuna, my butt hurt and my left knee ached a bit, but depending on how I time my rest breaks, I can almost go the same distance in a day on the GSX-R as I can on the V-Strom.

Almost.

Dinner that evening was a Paulaner Oktoberfest beer, salad, and beef rolls at the Blue Heron German restaurant a few blocks away from my motel. Thinly sliced beef roast wrapped around thick-slicked bacon, stone ground mustard, and a pickle in the center, covered with rich gravy. Yummy!

Intense trip to Northern California

I just returned from a quick trip to the twisty roads of northern California. I rode 1,700 miles in just a little over 5 days. There were numerous weather conditions and road conditions to contend with, and I had several eventful moments along the way. I also met some wonderful people and saw some amazing sights.

Day one I rode down the Willamette Valley and over to Coos Bay on the central Oregon coast. I had fantastic weather and took some roads I'd never been on before, specifically the highway from Monmouth to Philomath. I pulled over on Highway 101 for a photo of the Haceta Head lighthouse, south of Waldport. I stayed at the Best Western in Coos Bay for the first time as well. It was adequate, equivalent to the Red Lion up the road.

I managed to get packed up and on the road before the rain started, which kicked in by the time I got to Coquille. It never let up until early afternoon when I got to Happy Camp. I stopped for a late breakfast in Brookings and my gear was completely soaked. The wind was blowing in off the ocean fairly hard and visibility was terrible. I was waved across the border into California and stopped at a gas station on the north side of Crescent City to fuel up. Then I turned northeast on highway 199 and after passing some slow tourists meandering through the redwoods I was able to enjoy that wonderfully twisty road for the second time in two weeks.

The weather dried out slightly in the tiny Oregon community of Takilma so I stopped for a bio break and to let my gloves dry in the brief sunlight. Some rain drops started falling again so I suited back up and headed up into the hills. The rain returned in earnest and the higher I climbed the worse visibility became. At the pass, nearly 5,200 feet, there was quite a bit of snow on the roadside and heavy rain coming down. By the time I got to Happy Camp back in California -- the third border crossing that day -- the sun was out and the temperature had climbed enough to make it sticky-uncomfortable in my gear. I stopped at the grocery store for a quick break, then headed down Highway 96 to my next overnight stop in Yreka.

I stayed at the Best Western instead of the Super 8. It was a nice motel and worth the price. Being a Sunday night nothing was open so I ate at Grandma's House Restaurant on the advice of a local. The bric-a-brac atmosphere was nauseous and the food was one notch above cafeteria-grade.

I began to get congested while in Yreka and was glad to head south the next morning. My route took me on highway 3 through Etna and Callahan before climbing up and over beautiful Scotts Pass with clear blue skies. The day's ride was fantastic and I was able to stop and pose for a self-portrait (camera timers and mini-tripods are great) on a bridge over a rushing mountain river.

My overnight stay was at the Super 8 in Fortuna, a great place with friendly staff. Dinner was at the Eel River Brewery next door, a greek salad and pint of pale ale. While there I caught up on some laundry to reset my clothing situation back to zero. The next morning I had some mist to contend with as I headed back inland on highway 36 through Dinsmore and Hayfork. I had a close call with a Toyota that crossed the center line in a narrow section of road but was able to chirp my bike hard-right and avoid a collision. It would have been a non-injury event even if I had hit them as both our speeds were below 15 mph. While having lunch at The Nugget in Weaverville I met another V-Strom rider, Mark, from Eureka. After a great conversation we hit the road.

I rode highway 299 west until reaching Willow Creek where I headed north on Highway 96. The weather was fantastic for the second day in a row, helping to make up for the deluge I endured on Sunday. I gassed up in Hoopa in anticipation of a long, slow ride up the Salmon River through the mountains. Once I reached Somes Bar I cut east and followed the rugged river valley back into the hills. After about 8 miles of very slow, narrow riding, I stopped for a bio break and noticed my GPS said I'd reach Yreka at 7:50 pm. It was already after 3pm and after taking inventory of my food and water situation, I decided the wise thing to do would be to backtrack to Highway 96 and beat feet to Happy Camp where I could get a snack and bottle of water, then head on to Yreka that way. It was the smart thing to do, and I arrived at my motel just before 6pm. Tired, but safe.

Dinner was at Lalos Mexican Restaurant in Yreka, with beers and conversation at The Rex Club next door to my motel. I had the bartender and several customers convinced I was a retired adult film star (I eventually confessed that I am the computer guy for a fisheries consulting firm, an admittedly less glamorous vocation). Again, being in Yreka got my sinuses in a bunch.

Wednesday morning was beautiful, with blue skies dotted by a few white puffy clouds. I headed north on Interstate 5 back into Oregon where I saw two state troopers nab speeding California drivers right in front of me. In Ashland I left the freeway and headed east on Highway 66, the Green Springs Highway, toward Klamath Falls. I stopped at the memorial park and visited the niche where my Mom's ashes are located, then ate breakfast at the Black Bear diner on South 6th. The breeze was kicking up and my bike got knocked sideways as I rode more times than I could count.

I figured I had enough gas to get me to Lakeview but I wanted to be on the safe side so I stopped at the Chevron in Bly to fuel up. The attendant asked if I had just come through a week before, saying he saw a guy stop with a bike and luggage exactly like mine. I said it must be my 'good twin' ... stroking my beard I reminded him, "The evil twins always have goatees." I'm not sure he got the joke.

In Lakeview I stopped for a snack and chatted with a BMW rider heading south from Burns toward Chico, California. Back on the bike, I headed north on 395, then northwest on 31 toward Summer Lake. The scenery, geology, and weather conspired to bring tears to my eyes. Sometimes that happens when you ride through certain areas. The wind was a real wooly-booger, though. When I approached Summer Lake I could see a large dust storm being kicked up by the wind. I was concerned that I'd have to ride through it, but fortunately the road skirted around behind and upwind of it so I could see it safely without having to endure it's brutality. After riding through Oregon's Outback and wrestling with an ever-present wind, I finally met Highway 97 and cut north toward my destination for the night, Bend. I had to stop and switch to wet-weather gear, though, as rain returned briefly to my experience.

My destination was The Riverhouse Resort, the nicest motel of the trip. After unpacking and showering, I went into the Crossings Lounge for a beverage and dinner. I met some nice people and struck up a great conversation with Arne, a district rep for a regional restaurant chain. The sinus issues I experienced in Yreka, exacerbated by climbing and descending numerous mountain ranges over the duration of my trip so far, all conspired to completely destroy my voice. By the time I went to bed that night I couldn't talk at all and my sinuses were packed solid.

It rained that night and when I began packing my bike I noticed the Volkswagen parked next to it spent the night with its passenger window rolled down. Breakfast was at the restaurant across the street, and I could barely speak loud enough to place my order with the waitress. I was soon suited up and heading north. Because I didn't feel good and simply wanted to get home after what had turned out to be a very tiring (yet rewarding and enjoyable) trip, I decided to take 97 and then 26 the fast way home rather than ride over to Detroit and up past Breitenbush and Ripplebrook "the back way."

Thursday, this last day of my trip, was also my 41st birthday. Once I was north of Madras the rain entered the equation once again and I got dumped on the rest of the way home, with the rain especially heavy going over the pass at Government Camp. By the time I rolled into my garage late that morning my gear was soaked and I was exhausted.

Car trip to the redwoods

Visiting the redwoods of northwestern California seems to becoming an annual trip for me. This year I'll do it twice. I just returned from a car trip to visit relatives near Mt. Lassen in northeast California. My wife and I stayed two days there, then drove west to Crescent City on the coast and visited the Prairie Creek Redwoods state park near there.

We saw elk up close, including a young bull in the velvet that passed within 10 feet of our vehicle. We also parked at the base of Cal-Barrel road and walked up to the Remembrance Grove. That truly is a holy place.

We stayed overnight at the Northwoods Inn Best Western in Crescent City. If I had paid $49 for the room I would have thought, "This makes sense." We could hear every sound from adjacent rooms and when the people above us took a shower it was as loud as our own. To further frustrate matters, a half dozen Harley-Davidson riders were staying there as well. That's all well and good, but they decided to fire up their un-muffled bikes early the next morning and rev them so loud car alarms went off in the parking lot.

We left the next morning and headed northeast on highway 199 back toward Oregon. This road follows the rugged Smith River and is a real nail-biter if you're behind the wheel of a large vehicle. I was driving our Ford F-350 crew cab and several sections have tight turns with zero margin. It would be a blast on a motorcycle but in a large vehicle like ours it was a little tense at times. The scenery is absolutely fantastic, however. I have an upcoming bike trip to the same area and have altered my intended route to include that particular road.