Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
Adventures in Sport
Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT
Exploring North America...One Road
at a Time
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Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
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Day 9 Forgetting the time zones, my wife called me before the sun was up. I had a 30 minute conversation from my sleeping bag. "Dang baby what time is it???" "6:30am here, I wanted to call before 7 so we could chat for free" "dang that means its 4:30AM here" "ohhhhh I'm sorry" "thats ok, I'll go back to sleep when we're finished" I did to. I stayed in bed till 7am. I poked out when I knew for sure Uncle Phil had the fire going. Today is the day we make it to the coast. Coming down out of the Sierras by way of Sonora Pass. I'd been carrying a bunch of paper plates since Texas, I was tired of looking at them so I removed them from my right saddlebag and left them on the picnic table of a still sleeping RV. I figured they could put them to good use. The weather was cool in the mountains and I zipped the vents on the Roadcrafter. Coop stepped over, and asked me to zip his back vent, and I did. For the first time this trip I had the all leather sport gloves on. The sky has only a few clouds, another good day for riding. We followed Dennis out of the campground a few minutes after 8. The group pulled in to a local station for gas. I was still ok so skipped the top off. Heck, I was only a few bars off full. I was glad to, price on the pump was a stunning 2.19 a gallon for 85.
It was quick ride north up US 385 to the old mining town. When we arrived at the restaurant the place was packed including a CHP officer, we saw his cruiser when we pulled in. I ordered a short stack of blueberry pancakes that were just as good as I had in Maine last year. It was a very good breakfast. After breakfast I realized I still didn't have any film. While the others shopped a tourist place, Ron and I doubled back south to a gas mart super store thing. We gassed up, then went inside where I bought film, and chapstick, but failed to find any fireballs or Moonpies. I checked for the last 2 items out of habit. Lee Vining was in the middle of a road resurface and I feared tar would find its way on my bike. I stayed in the car tracks and avoided that malady. US 395 north out of Lee Vining was scenic and a good ride. We stopped at a overlook and I took this picture of the valley below.
Back on the road, we followed US 395 North for 25-30 miles, then Dennis peeled off for Bodie. We followed him on a local road that took us deep in the surrounding hills. The road was narrow and pretty bombed out, but it is paved. For the first 4 miles anyway, then it changed to pea gravel and dirt. The old road was packed tight and not much problem, but it was dusty. I let the bikes in front me get some distance, to lighten the dust trail. At the guard shack we paid the modest entrance fee and dismounted the bikes to have a look at this town from another time. Bodie, a once thriving western town of 10,000 died sometime in the 1930s. The mining went bust and soon after, so did the town. Now, it lies abandoned in the California hills. A few houses and buildings are all that remain. Old wagon wheels and wells dot the areas between the wood structures.
Park literature says the town once had 65 salons. Hardened gold miners and cowboys shot each other daily, gunshots ringing out were common. Boot Hill was just like any western movie. On a hill overlooking the town. We walked the dirt streets of this time capsule. The general store still had stuff on the shelves. Very old can goods with cracked and faded labels still waiting for someone to buy them. The mercantile store had old sewing machines in the front window. I could look in windows of the houses and see beds and chairs. Antique dishes were in the sink, as if someone was coming home to wash them. The salon had whiskey bottles on display behind the bar, and the card table had a deck of cards ready for dealing. Numbers in our guide corresponded with numbers on the building. For instance, "building #64 was the home of Mr. Cleveland, he owed the hardware store on Main St in till 1896." I felt like Marshall Dillon while I was walking the streets. For a man who grew up on westerns this was a neat experience. To touch a place that kids my age thought only existed on film.
I sat on the bench outside a salon and thought about the last joker to leave Bodie. I mean, someone HAD to be last. Did he just load his stuff in the wagon and go? Did he ransack the town getting everything he thought was worth having? The town was in such a isolated place, I guess it was too much trouble to carry frivolous items out. Thus the reason the funeral home still had coffins, and a couple of horse drawn hearses. I thought about the park rangers who spend 24 hrs out here. They play cards at night to pass the time, or watch one of the dozen movies they keep on file. Winters are cold and harsh, and when it snows they said its downright impossible to get in here, yet they stay to make sure no one loots the town of its valuable treasures. I was glad Dennis took us on this side trip. If you like such things make sure you stop by Bodie. An hour later we left Bodie on 395 and then veered off on SR 108. Another route that will soon go on the list. Brothers this is another fantastic road. Smooth, scenic and worthy of any peg scraper in a Aerostich. The highway quickly snatches a grip on me and
won't let go. I post up in the number 2 spot and quickly realize if I'm
going to see anything, I'm going to have to let those other boys go. I
slow down and wave the others around. No, I'm going to take my time and
SEE things. Everytime I come out of a twist I'm treated to scenic mountain peaks. Snow glistens in the sun. There is still plenty of it, but the road is scraped clean and in good shape. I can feel the brisk air blowing in my face because I have the shield flipped up. This was truly a unforgettable ride. This is why I do what I do, and why I do it on a motorcycle. The others are long gone, but I don't care, I can find my way to Redwood and Dennis house if I need to. I stopped at a turnout to take a closer look at the crystal clear mountain water cascading down the rocks. I cupped my hand and brought a sample to my lips. I just had to know what it tasted like. It was cold, and sweet. I saw a waterfall shooting out the rocks and stopped for another pic. Sonora Pass comes in at 9,600 feet, as beautiful as any pass I've seen in the Rockies. A red VFR sees me, and comes in for a chat. Here, I meet Steven Gremlcos out for a day ride from his home in San Francisco. I told him he picked a good day for it.
I left out before him, but before I could go 5 miles he catches up to me, and I pull to the side and wave him around. Coming down out of the mountains I began looking for the others. I find them at a store in Strawberry, taking a butt break. I see they have Steve with them. I take my place on the bench and we have a long break and get to know Steve better. Great guy. After our break we leave out for the final run to the coast. Steve is riding with us, but I don't know for how far. SR 108 west out of Sonora is not fun. We begin to run into lots of urban sprawl and mayhem. We pass cars in greedy clips, but it doesn't help, always someone up ahead to take their place. Once again, the dry air out west chapped and dried my lips. The chapstick helps. I don't know why I didn't take better prevention measures, I don't know. I lose sight of Steve in one of the towns, I guess he needed gas. In Manteca, we began retracing the route I used in 2001 to arrive in San Francisco. Pass the strawberry fields and cherry trees we go, on our way to the 580. I still have nightmares about my first ride on the 580, and not looking forward to this. But this time its not dark, and I'm following someone that knows the freeway system. In Livermore we stop for gas, and get final instructions from Dennis on how to handle the intricate Bay Freeway system. The closer we get to the Bay the colder it gets. I have on thin gloves and the Roadcrafter is vented out. The cold air is blowing in on my t shirt clad body underneath. Its COLD. I look at Uncle Phil up ahead in just his dragging jeans shirt and feel sorry for him. Finally, we can't take it anymore and exit near the windmills to zip up and change gloves. When we returned to the chaos of 580 we at least we were warm. The lined gloves felt good. The 580 is a mass of cages in both directions, but this time I am a veteran Long Rider riding in daylight, and not a rookie in the dark on his first long ride. I confidently pick my way through the slower cages, lane changing effortlessly and safely. Eyes scanning far down the road for trouble. My brother riders escort me, and keep my rear secured, and in return I clear the path ahead pass the hapless commuters. What a difference a couple of years make. Dennis positions us for the 880 interchange and we head to the San Mateo Bridge without breaking a sweat. Brothers, we were good on this day. We approach the tolls of the San Mateo and merge over to the diamond lane. The workers in the booth see us coming and pause to watch poetry in motion. The 5 STs execute flawlessly, not one cage comes between us in the realignment. We pass through without having to pay, and continue to our final western destination, Redwood City and the Long Rider way station known as the Ryan house. The Bay Area is of course cold and cloudy, but the sun comes out as near Redwood. Over the Bay, and a few miles later we take the 280 and exit at Redwood City. We find our way to Dennis neighborhood and soon we are backing in his driveway. Made it. I am now at the western most terminus of my trip. I glance down at the odometer. 3,655 miles for the trip so far, and 285 for the day. We slap each others back and grin, as if to say we did it! It was good to see Norma and Tommy again. The Ryans make us feel at home. Norma and Tommy are special to allow me to crash their lives and home once a year. It was Dennis' birthday, and that night old friends are reunited, and new ones made. Don and Joyce bring the birthday cake, Mo and VJ come by. A great time had by all. What a great ending to a great day. Good food and company. The party broke up about 11, and Norma and I pulled the sofa bed out for me to sleep on. I was going to watch tv, but fell asleep. I was looking forward to sleeping in the next morning.
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Dennis says he knows where to find a neat
ghost town, called Bodie State Park. That will be our 2nd goal of the
morning. The first was breakfast at a place in Lee Vining called Nighleys.
