Attempts at Detroit

Springtime in Oregon is hard to beat when it comes to weather. 72 degrees and sunshine? Yeah, that works. Being a motorcyclist, you've got three guesses how I've handled it, and the first two guesses don't count.

Sportbikes don't like snow

Two days in a row, I rode my 2012 Suzuki GSX-R750 "Shoot to Thrill" past Estacada, up highway 224 to Ripplebrook ranger station, and then south on NF46 toward Detroit. Both times I was turned back by snow, as I expected. What was surprising was how far I got before the road was covered enough to make me turn around.

Although I didn't have a GPS on my bike, I would estimate the snow is at 3,300 feet elevation, and was within a few miles of the summit at the power lines. If you can get that far, the rest of the route should be open.

They are doing repair work at mileposts 31-37, and delays during the week are common. This is to repair damage to the cliff face after the big fire that occurred about a year-and-a-half ago. Highway 224 is in reasonably good shape, otherwise. NF46 has some issues, however. There are a few more potholes, some of which would give a sport bike rider a hard time if they were hit at speed. There are also some trees down, blocking portions of the roadway or hanging low over one lane. It's best to take it relatively easy on the sighting lap before giving it the beans on the return leg.

The Smiling Astronaut

When I rode up the first day, I met two guys on sport bikes stopped in the road. They told me the road was covered a mile ahead, and although a pickup truck had driven up through the snow and parked at the top of the hill, it would be impassible to all but a dirt bike with knobby tires.

One the second day, I rode to that point myself and stopped at the snow to take a break before turning around. On the way back, I came up behind a guy on a sport bike west of Ripplebrook. We zipped along until we came to the construction delay, and chatted briefly before continuing on to Estacada where we exchanged contact information. His name was Wayne and he was riding a 2013 Kawasaki ZX-10R. We agreed to talk more about future day rides on our sport bikes.

To paraphrase the old Honda slogan, "You meet the nicest people on two wheels."

The Big Loop

Wednesday, Mark rode his Kawasaki ZZR1200 while I rode my V-Strom down to Fortuna, then we headed inland on one of my favorite riding roads: Highway 36. It was overcast but traffic was light and the road seemed to be in relatively good condition. As we rode to the top of the first pass we had to slow down for construction, shrouded in clouds, but once we crested the pass we had sunshine the rest of the way. We stopped in Mad River, hoping to get a snack at the small store/cafe there, but it was closed. We continued onward to the junction with Highway 3, where we turned left and continued on to Hayfork.

The section of Highway 3 between Hayfork and Weaverville is difficult to describe in words, but anyone that rides it knows what I mean when I say it is absolutely delicious. Unfortunately, CalTrans decided to hock a loogie into that particular dish. The road was resurfaced with a slurry-seal and gravel kind of compound so riding was slow. As we dropped down the eastern slope of the pass the pavement was solid but there was lots of gravel in the corners. That leg of the trip was ridden safely but the fun was spoiled.

In Weaverville we stopped at the Trinideli for a fantastic turkey and bacon sandwich. It was getting warm so after we ate we changed our riding gear for better venting, fueled up, then continued northeast on Highway 3. Our goal was to check on Mark's boat tied up on Trinity Lake. We got stuck behind a string of very slow cars in a construction zone and never really got past them until we got to Trinity Center, 30 miles up the road.

Mark's boat was fine, and after chatting with the owners of the boat launch, we suited back up and headed back into Weaverville, this time with a bit less slow traffic. The curves were nice but soon we were back in town. To continue the loop, we headed east on Highway 299, the main road between I-5 and the coast. It was well into the 80's by this point and the riding was intense. The curves on 299 are faster than 36 and have much better sight lines, so carving them up is definitely a faster affair. We had to pass several slow vehicles as well as some tractor trailers, but they were nice enough to use pull-outs to let us pass.

We stopped in Willow Creek for fuel and water, then rode onward. Once we crested the pass at Blue Lake the air temperature got noticeably cooler. We stopped at an empty weigh station and changed back into warmer gear, then continued into overcast Arcata. The road up to Kneeland was free of fog so we took those tight, bumpy turns at a quickened pace. My V-Strom kept right up with Mark's ZZR1200 and when we got to his house, Mark commented on how well the V-Strom corners. By the time we got back we had ridden 315 miles.

During dinner, a female raccoon came up onto the deck and pressed her face against the window, looking for a treat. Mark threw some dry cat food into a bowl and set it on the deck table for her consumption. She chowed away, mere feet outside the window, looking at us with every bite. Eventually she had enough and probably heard something scary in the woods. She grabbed one more nibble to go, then left.

Kneeland on a Kawasaki

Breakfast was provided gratis as part of my motel stay. Once I was fed and suited up, I headed south on Highway 101 through Bandon, Port Orford, Gold Beach and Brookings before crossing the border into California. Traffic was light for the coast highway -- it can be notoriously slow. I fueled up in Crescent City, then continued south until I crossed the Klamath River where I cut off and headed up into the trees and hills overlooking the coast. There were numerous people stopped along the Klamath River, looking down at the water. I didn't know what was up until I returned from my trip and asked around. Apparently a mother and calf whale had come up the river and lingered for several days, causing folks to check it out.

Farther down Highway 101 I came across a group of elk, both bulls and cows, laying in the grass alongside the highway. I stopped and took several pictures, some very close, before continuing south.

The road was blocked before I could enter the Prairie Creek Redwoods park area so I backtracked and continued south on 101 to Arcata. My destination for the next two nights was the home of my friend, Mark. He and I met the previous year in Weaverville, California and had traveled together, along with his wife, Janice, to Steens Mountain in September of last year. Following Mark's directions, I left 101 and headed up a narrow, bumpy paved road to the tiny community of Kneeland where I promptly got lost. Dick, my GPS, thought Kneeland was about two miles past the post office (the closest thing to a 'downtown'), so I had to backtrack. To make matters more challenging, the entire area was socked in with low-lying clouds (Kneeland sits at about 2,100 feet elevation) and visibility was near zero at times. After a bit of riding very slowly and using my intuition, I found the tiny Kneeland post office and used Mark's directions to find his house.

After I got settled, Mark suggested we hop on his two Kawasaki ZZRs and go for a short ride up the road. He rode his ZZR1200 and I rode his 2003 ZZR600. I had never been on a sport bike before so I as apprehensive about its speed and handling. At first it felt very difficult to turn, seemingly wanting to snap back to vertical. Once I got used to how it handled, I realized it needed more body English to initiate and hold a turn than does my much taller V-Strom. The acceleration of that little bike was intoxicating, however. It was quick yet smooth and controllable. I never needed to get into third gear and quickly learned how to tackle the narrow, tight corners of that remote country road.

We headed a few miles up the road and stopped at a turn-around in front of the tiny Kneeland air strip. Several cows blocked the road and we had to patiently and cautiously wait for them to move (there were bulls among them). At the top we stopped and chatted for several minutes. The scenery reminded me of the Scottish Highlands.

We headed back down to the house and parked the bikes in the garage for the night. We had a long loop ride scheduled for the next day and needed our rest.