North Bay on motos
We have some days off, Neal has a VStrom, I have a Street Triple R, and NorCal has some nice roads. Sounds like a plan.
We packed up and installed loud horns on our bikes on Saturday, set the preload as well as we could with my too-stiff spring, and got a nice early start on Sunday. Oh, wait, we didn't - we watched World Superbike, then got a late start. I noted that the squared-off tire I had inherited on my Triple was close to the wear bars. Well, this trip would be a good way to kill it.
We took the East Bay route up to 101 to avoid the cluster of 19th, then stopped for gas. For me - Neal's tank is ridiculously large. And my MPG meter is ridiculously optimistic, but that's no surprise. It read 10-20mpg higher than actuality on ever tank.
We turned off at Highway 128; the beginning promised twisties that the middle did not deliver, so we were pleased to hit Highway 1. This was the first time Neal and I have been on 1 north of SF on motos since our first bike trip together, to Fort Bragg in 2007! We shared memories - "Remember being stuck behind an RV on this road?"
We finally escaped the traffic and got to the scenic part of Highway 1, which was much appreciated.
Then we hit the fun part of 1, which was even more appreciated. Fun turns, 15-35mph, over and over. I had a blast. Too quickly, it was done. A Neal onboard pic of me:
We stoppped at The Tree You Pay $3 For A Picture Of.
We took 1 on as it moved towards 101. I had to stop for gas. Neal had about 30,000 miles left on his Strom's tank, but topped off while I filled up. My tire was now at the wear bars.
We took a quick detour through the Avenue of the Giants, which is gorgeous. Massive towering redwoods, lovely scenery.
Neal relaxes by riding side-saddle on the straight and boring parts.
The sun was behind the fog and it was getting cold. Rio Dell, our stop for the night, was just a quick trip up 101. The scenery was looking more and more like the towering evergreenery that I remembered from the Pacific Northwest.
Rio Dell, likewise, could have been any David Lynch-ian northwest town. A giant lumber mill on the outskirts, a permanent fog, disaffected youth.
We had dinner at the local pizza place, watched Endurocross, hung up our 'Stitches, and went to sleep.
The morning dawned with high fog and light rain. We had breakfast at a place across the street from where we had dinner the night before. I hadn't the heart to ask them if they had cherry pie.
The Washingtonians must have felt right at home. Aside from their Kias and their science.
We turned onto Highway 36, famous for the 130-some miles of twisties. It was cold and wet, and as it climbed, it got foggy, too.
But then we started to descend (the first of three summits), and - yes, it became warm and gorgeous. The resemblance to the Northwest only got stronger.
We stopped at a little moto-friendly gas station for an ice cream.
Strange sculpture.
We chatted with a few other moto riders, then took off. The last bit of 36 before Red Bluff was fast, fast sweepers, then a ripply roller-coaster bit.
Neal's onboard pics.
Red Bluff meant lunchtime. My tire looked like it would survive the trip back home.
The fast way home.
We are home and happy, and my tire is done. Great times with my lovely husband!
We packed up and installed loud horns on our bikes on Saturday, set the preload as well as we could with my too-stiff spring, and got a nice early start on Sunday. Oh, wait, we didn't - we watched World Superbike, then got a late start. I noted that the squared-off tire I had inherited on my Triple was close to the wear bars. Well, this trip would be a good way to kill it.
We took the East Bay route up to 101 to avoid the cluster of 19th, then stopped for gas. For me - Neal's tank is ridiculously large. And my MPG meter is ridiculously optimistic, but that's no surprise. It read 10-20mpg higher than actuality on ever tank.
We turned off at Highway 128; the beginning promised twisties that the middle did not deliver, so we were pleased to hit Highway 1. This was the first time Neal and I have been on 1 north of SF on motos since our first bike trip together, to Fort Bragg in 2007! We shared memories - "Remember being stuck behind an RV on this road?"
We finally escaped the traffic and got to the scenic part of Highway 1, which was much appreciated.
Then we hit the fun part of 1, which was even more appreciated. Fun turns, 15-35mph, over and over. I had a blast. Too quickly, it was done. A Neal onboard pic of me:
We stoppped at The Tree You Pay $3 For A Picture Of.
We took 1 on as it moved towards 101. I had to stop for gas. Neal had about 30,000 miles left on his Strom's tank, but topped off while I filled up. My tire was now at the wear bars.
We took a quick detour through the Avenue of the Giants, which is gorgeous. Massive towering redwoods, lovely scenery.
Neal relaxes by riding side-saddle on the straight and boring parts.
The sun was behind the fog and it was getting cold. Rio Dell, our stop for the night, was just a quick trip up 101. The scenery was looking more and more like the towering evergreenery that I remembered from the Pacific Northwest.
Rio Dell, likewise, could have been any David Lynch-ian northwest town. A giant lumber mill on the outskirts, a permanent fog, disaffected youth.
We had dinner at the local pizza place, watched Endurocross, hung up our 'Stitches, and went to sleep.
The morning dawned with high fog and light rain. We had breakfast at a place across the street from where we had dinner the night before. I hadn't the heart to ask them if they had cherry pie.
The Washingtonians must have felt right at home. Aside from their Kias and their science.
We turned onto Highway 36, famous for the 130-some miles of twisties. It was cold and wet, and as it climbed, it got foggy, too.
But then we started to descend (the first of three summits), and - yes, it became warm and gorgeous. The resemblance to the Northwest only got stronger.
We stopped at a little moto-friendly gas station for an ice cream.
Strange sculpture.
We chatted with a few other moto riders, then took off. The last bit of 36 before Red Bluff was fast, fast sweepers, then a ripply roller-coaster bit.
Neal's onboard pics.
Red Bluff meant lunchtime. My tire looked like it would survive the trip back home.
The fast way home.
We are home and happy, and my tire is done. Great times with my lovely husband!