Travelogue

Hopefully, our house in New Jersey would sell in our absence, and this would be the last time we had to fly to get to our motorhome in Petaluma. We really were getting anxious to start our new lives in Sonoma County, but I was on vacation now and I didn’t want to think about realtors and potential buyers walking through our home.

Since we were leaving for Yosemite in two days to meet up with the boys and Celeste, we quickly prepped the motorhome, food shopped, and then headed down to San Francisco for a quick visit.

Tommy had just moved to San Francisco from Seattle about two weeks ago, so we were anxious to see his new apartment and how he was settling in. He was still in sticker shock at the price of apartment rentals in San Francisco. Seattle wasn’t exactly a bargain, but San Francisco rentals were getting ridiculous.

I must say that the thought of the boys living within one mile of each other again gave me a warm and fuzzy. Plus it made visiting them so much easier.

We went to dinner at one of Andrew and Celeste’s new discoveries – Café Europa, a Central/Eastern European restaurant in their Inner Richmond neighborhood. They love scouting out new restaurants and thought that Herb, who loves German food – bratwurst in particular -- would find this a close facsimile to the motherland.

The atmosphere was pleasant and we were given a large table in the back room by ourselves. The waiter was very friendly, and as he brought us our beers, he joked about not spilling them, just as he dropped an entire mug on my lap. My jeans were totally soaked, but he was so embarrassed and apologetic that I played down my discomfort. I didn’t want him feeling any worse than he already did.

Other than feeling that I had fallen in a brewery kettle, the food was terrific and the still remorseful waiter gave us lots of freebie side dishes to make up for his faux pas.

I really was saturated though, and I needed these jeans for Yosemite, so afterwards we went back to Andrew and Celeste’s apartment and threw them in the laundry. Once dry again, we said our goodbyes and headed back to Petaluma, happy that we would see each other again in just a few days.

Description

The Petaluma KOA is an award winning camping resort located within an hour’s drive of San Francisco, Napa and Sonoma Valley Wineries, giant redwoods, and Sonoma County and California Coastal Beaches. It is considered to be the RV resort in the San Francisco Bay area.

On its 70 acres, there are 312 spacious RV sites, 32 camping cabins, and 10 Wine Country lodges.

Other amenities include:
• Guided tours of San Francisco (from May through October)
• Huge heated pool and spa
• Inflatable waterslide
• Rock climbing wall
• Huge playground
• Petting zoo
• Karaoke
• Hayrides and live weekend entertainment

The campground is open all year.

Travelogue

Home Sweet RV at Petaluma KOAWell, this was it. Once I made to Petaluma a long anticipated bucket list item would be checked off the list. My first, and most assuredly last cross-country motorcycle trip would be coming to a conclusion.

It was with a bit of anxious anticipation that I checked into the Petaluma KOA for a look at the trusty Lazy Daze that had spent almost a year out west in storage. After almost a year in storage, I was quite pleased when she started right up, and with squeaky brakes let me take to the campsite where I would be camping a few days getting the rig ready before I could take the Subaru Forester, (which also had been stored at the KOA for almost a year), down to the city.

As anticipated, there was a lot of little items that needed to be maintained before I could go and pick up Lolo. Lolo had been spending some "quality time" at Andrew's apartment and I would bring her back to the KOA for the final leg of both our first solo vacations.

I went down to the city and joined Lolo and she amazed me with her new found knowledge of the local neighborhoods. She also gave me a museum tour of both the de Young Museum and the Legion of Honor. It was good to get back to some culture after spending 3 weeks crossing the mid-west.

We closed out the day dining with Andrew and Celeste at the Mandalay Burmese Cuisine and drove back to Petaluma to sleep in the motorhome.

I'm not sure if I had adequately provisioned the rig for her arrival though. As she said in her narrative, the rig was a bit disorganized and that "there were only 6 items in the refrigerator, and each of them was a beer."

We spent our first night together in 3 weeks and had a better appreciation of the benefits of married life.

We then continued the adventure with a trip in the Lazy Daze to the Eastern Sierra, and Death Valley, but I will let Lolo pick up that part of the narrative at San Francisco

Travelogue

Photo Break on June Lake LoopAt this point it seemed to me that this trip might finally be coming to a close. Once over the Sierra, it would be back into the agricultural central valley, and then into the major populations centers of the coast. I began to think about dragging my feet a bit to see if I could make this go on just a little bit more.

But first, there was another day of riding, through some of the most spectacular scenery on the west. First highlight was continuing around the picturesque June Lake Loop. It is actually a loop from 395 that people take just to enjoy the views of many picturesque lakes and mountains.

Next up, was the ascent up route 120 to the highest elevation point of the trip, 9951' As I carved the bike up 120 towards Yosemite's Tioga pass, I could almost not believe my good fortune. While the pass was open, and provided the only access to the park from east of the Sierra, it still had a lot of snow piled up on the side of the road. Fortunately, the Park had done a great job plowing and I had a perfect patch of mostly dry asphalt to plant my tires. The views of the canyons, cliffs, mountains, and lakes that drifted by my helmet were not unfamiliar to me. I had seen these very same sights several times before. However, then they were from behind the wheel of a 7 ton motorhome.

View out the TentThe experience of driving a motorhome verses that of a motorcycle could not be more dissimilar. The weight and width of the motorhome is always a concern both ascending and descending the narrow switch backs into the Valley. Conversely, the bike becomes weightless between my legs, and the bike has both power and brakes to easily traverse the steepest and narrowest terrain. I was a state of bliss that could only be achieved by watching the incredible vistas of Yosemite pass by my visor unencumbered by the steel shell of a car/motorhome.

Every sensation is amplified. The smell of the pine trees, the temperature changes as you descend into a valley or out into the sun, the snow melt and gravel on a decreasing radius turn, all serve to restrain the focus upon the present. No concerns about the future challenges that would await me were able to penetrate my helmet and mind.

As I approached Crane Flat, the spell was broken, and I began the exit from Yosemite's magic to enter the flats of California's agricultural central valley.

Making Breakfast in the TentBut the trip wouldn't be over yet. I had planned a few days of rest and relaxation in the sun at a resort outside of Sacramento. With directions from the phone, it wasn't long before I had arrived.

I found a suitable location for my tent. Right on the shore of a lake that would have a perfect view of the sunset. I made my dinner, had an beer or two or three, and fell fast asleep to the croaking of frogs.

In the morning, I knew that I should have some physical exercise. Riding the bike cross-country is not without effort, but it doesn't provide any kind of aerobic exercise like the 3.5 mile trail run that I did that morning.

A morning of lounging and reading in the sun soon turned into a mind race list of issues that would have to be addressed when I was finally reunited with both the Lazy Daze and Subaru Forester that we had left in storage.

A reunion with my spouse was also on the list of highly anticipated items. While traveling alone on the motorcycle the daily routine left little time for loneliness. That, and the fact that I know Lolo wouldn't have been able to endure so many hours as a passive passenger, made it easier to be a solo traveler. That too would soon come to an end.

Travelogue

Storm Clouds in Furnace CreekThe ride out of the Death Valley on 190 into the town of Lone Pine, is one that I had done several times in the past. It is an amazing drive/ride over the mountain ranges, past Panamint Springs, with elevation change from sea level to over 5000'. I tried not to think of the time that the rusted brake lines in the motorhome burst and left me stranded without brakes during our trip in 2007 Lone Pine.

With 7 tons and motorhome, laden with wife and children, the steep gradients and descents are a high stress event. You are constantly judging when to downshift to spare the brakes from overheating, and how to take turns at a speed that allows safe passage for the vehicle and passengers contained within.

In contrast, riding the motorcycle is a sublime event. The lighter weight, and two wheels let you descend and ascend the steepest grades with impunity, and you have a much greater sense of the environment you are cruising through. Your sense of smell is stimulated by the aroma of the landscape, and changes in temperature are felt with a much greater immediacy then when traveling in a "cage", (motorcyclist talk for a car). The view is unobstructed and there is a free feeling of flowing as one through the environment.

ST-1100 with Snow Capped SierraWhen I got to Lone Pine, I tried unsuccessfully to visit the Alabama Hills. Not sure if I didn't have coverage, or whether I really didn't want to chance the bike on the dirt roads, but by reviewing my GPX track I can see that I wandered down a road that didn't have any direct access whatsoever. Interested readers can learn more from our 2015 trip to the Eastern Sierra.

I continued north on 395 with the snow capped Sierra as my constant companion.

After 120 miles I came to the Manzanar National Historic Site. This was the site of the Japanese American citizens internment during World War II. I drove the bike along the tour road through the camp, and visited the exhibits. It was very moving and disturbing to witness first hand this terrible chapter in the nations past.

Manzanar Memorial ObeliskAt the far end of the loop, against the backdrop of Mount Whitney, stood the Manzanar Memorial Obelisk. I had seen Ansel Adams photo of this monument and I wanted to visit it myself. The view did not disappoint, and I tried to emulate Adams by capturing a similar photograph.

Back on 395 I continued north where I am embarrassed to say that I had another of my McDonalds big breakfasts in Bishop, CA. My oldest son, Andrew, has since moved to Bishop and I now know of a dozen superior dining establishments, but at the time the familiarity of the Golden Arches trumped the other alternatives.

Calorically fueled, I continue up 395 climbing from 5000' to over 8000'. The temperatures dropped considerably, and I turned up the heat on the electric jacket that I wore through much of the trip. Even though my motorcycle is fully fared, and the windshield diverts most of the wind from my body, there is still a considerable cooling effect from the breeze at 75 mph. So much so that even at 70 degrees in the sun, you will slowly become cold and drained of energy without a little support in the form of an electric heated jacket.

June Lake Villager PorchThe cooler temperature helped clinch my decision for the nights lodging. Rather than to attempt to camp out in a National Forest, or BLM land, I would try to find lodging on the June Lake Loop. This had been described to me as a very worthwhile scenic detour, and one that should have able lodging as well.

It was still early season, but the June Lake Villager Motel was open, and had a room.

While checking in, the receptionist, (a women about my age), noted my motorcycle in the parking lot. I thought I might be impressing her by tales of cross-county travel on a 1100cc Honda motorcycle. She listened, and then told me she had recently ridden herself from upper Michigan on a 250cc Yamaha. My testicles shrank a few sizes, and she led me to my room.

The room porch faced west, so I attempted to repair my ego with a beer and watched the sun set.

Travelogue

Herb with Bike in Red Rock CanyonSpirits were high as I backtracked the bike to the start of the loop through the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area. In previous visits we had usually just parked at pullout for a climbing destination, and then hiked in. Leaving the park was usually at the end of a long day so we never really had the time to slowly travel the loop and enjoy the views from the road.

I stopped at a parking area and started to photograph the bike with the rocks in the background. Someone else noticed my Jersey Plates, and offered to take a photo for me so I wouldn't have to generate another awkward selfie. I thanked him, and continued my ride up the backside of Death Valley on 160.

Szukalski’s "Last Supper"I soon arrived at Pahrump, and more specifically a McDonalds for their hearty full breakfast of eggs, sausage, muffins, pancake, and coffee. It seemed right at the time to get a high calorie breakfast so that I could extend my riding time through the afternoon.

As I was considering my possible excess of calories, I noticed a thin muscular guy carrying two of my breakfasts to his own table. When saw his cycling shorts, and the bike outside I realized that the caloric requirements for cycling far exceeded those of riding a motorcycle. I would have to try to get back into a regular schedule of exercise once this trip was over.

Lady Desert: The Venus of NevadaI continued my ride up through the town of Beatty, and then down to the Ghost Town of Rhyolite and the Goldwell Open Air Museum. I had seen images of Szukalski’s "Last Supper" and wanted to see it in it's original setting.

The museum did not disappoint. I had the entire grounds pretty much to myself, and was able to wander around and photograph the various sculptures in their natural setting against a sky with darkening clouds. I enjoyed it so much, that I repeated the trip 3 weeks later with Lolo in Rhyolite, NV.

A short ride up the road, and the Ghost Town of Rhyolite appeared. I ran around trying to capture the abandoned buildings in the shifting light, and then headed out on 374, and then 190 to enter Death Valley.

Honda ST1100 in RhyoliteI had been anticipating the ride down into Death Valley since the start of the trip in NJ. I was surrounded by colorful cliffs as I dropped down a mile in elevation along a near perfectly smooth 2 lane deserted highway. Landmarks that I had visited with Lorry and the Boys whizzed by with new found appreciation when viewed from the perspective of two wheeled travel.

The air temperature rose rapidly with the descent and I adjusted the vents on the jacket to maintain comfort at 55 mph. I felt that I had truly ridden to the West, and was feeling somewhat accomplished, and maybe a bit smug with myself.

Motorcycle Camping in Furnace Creek DesertIt was late-afternoon when I finally pitched my tent in the Furnace Creek Campground, and situated my Kermit chair in a position that would allow for a good view of the oncoming clouds and eventual sunset. I had purchased some beer in Pahrump, so I thought that the best course of action would be to consume them while they still were a bit cool.

At dusk, dinner was prepared and I retired to the quiet of the desert breeze in the bushes surrounding my site.

Tomorrow held the promise of another "world class" motorcycle ride. West out of Death Valley, and then up the iconic highway 395, tracing the spine of the eastern sierra. I fell deeply asleep, with dreams of 2 wheeled ecstasy.

Travelogue

Bonnie Springs RanchI had met another motorcyclist in the campground last night, and he suggested I take route 93 back up to I40 as it would be a much more scenic ride, and would avoid me backtracking on a road already ridden. I took his counsel and had a thoroughly enjoyable ride though the mountains northwest of Phoenix.

The rest of the day was supposed to be an uneventful ride up to Las Vegas, with a ride along the scenic loop of the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area scheduled for the next day. Red Rock is a very popular park with rock climbers, and Lorry and I climbed there the in 2014 with our boys at Red Rocks. In fact, probably the best photo of me leading a climb, the 5.11b sport climb "Caustic Cock" is available on the Mountain Project Website. This climb was done a week before my 60th birthday, so it was fun to still get such a hard climb in while in my late 50s.

Anyway, on the ride to Vegas, the skies started to darken, and then storm clouds appeared in the distance. Soon there was no distance between me and the storm clouds, and I was riding in the most torrential downpour I had experienced since the storms in the Texas panhandle. I have spent some time in Vegas at various trade shows and conventions and have never experienced the volume of rain I got on that day.

ST1100 in Bonnie Springs RanchSoon however the rain passed, and the sun emerged, so I continued on to Red Rock, where I was considering camping in the first-come first-served climbers campground. A talk with the Ranger in the visitor center convinced me otherwise. He said the forecast was for possible showers, with temperatures approaching freezing. Packing up a wet frozen tent in the morning did not seem very appealing, so I asked about alternatives.

The Ranger suggested that the only other lodging option, close to Red Rock State Park, was the Bonnie Springs Ranch. This replica of an 1880's town was a landmark originally created in the 1840s and at the time I was only looking for a good bed and a warm shower so $101 seemed a little excessive, but I have to say it actually was quite nice. I've since learned that the ranch was expected to close mid-March in 2019.

A good shower, meal, and good nights sleep and I was looking forward to my ride around the Red Rock loop road in the morning.

Travelogue

Midget Wrestling Returns!I have always had an affinity for the sun and warm of the south, and since the forecasted weather on the northern route was looking a little cool and damp, I decided to take a major detour south to Phoenix, and enjoy a few days of relaxation in the sun.

Located just north of Phoenix was the Shangri La Ranch which I hoped would provide me an environment where I could relax in the sun, and get some low impact exercise by swimming in a pool. The fact that it was located in an area known for it's large saguaro cactus, and had a hikeable mountain as well, helped clinch the decision. I pointed the motorcycle south, and stared the 130 mile ride down I7.

Despite being an interstate, this was a very nice ride. The air quickly warmed up as I dropped a mile in elevation from to 7000' down to 2000'. The rest areas had viewpoints of the surrounding mountains, and I was feeling good that I had made the diversion. Large saguaro cactus started to dot the landscape, and it felt completely different than the mountains up north.

Thongs in the TreesAs had become customary when planning a few day stop, I would find the nearest on-route Walmart Supercenter and re-provision the bike for a few days of unsupported camping. I could probably have shopped anywhere, since I really couldn't carry much on the bike, but it was probably a holdover from our RV camping trips, and the familiarity of the Walmart shopping layout made it a bit more efficient shopping experience. A Subway for lunch, and I was back onto the road with a 12 pack of Bud strapped to the top the luggage bag.

At the final turn to the "Ranch" I noticed some signage at the corner advertising the events at the local restaurant and saloon. At the top of a post, along with the usual beer ad's, and fundraisers, was a poster proclaiming in all CAPS, "MIDGET WRESTLING RETURNS". I had never heard of "midget wrestling", as either a sporting or spectator event, but alas the return date of May 15 would be well after my departure. This is probably just as well, and so I am still left unsure in the knowledge of whether I would or would not have attended the grand reopening and lost my "midget wrestling virginity".

View from SummitAfter making camp, I spent the afternoon lounging at the pool, and strolling along the paths though the scrubs and desert. Along a river wash, I came along trail that included a collection of small plastic nymphs and other whimsical characters. They were nestled among the rocks and in the branches of trees, and actually looked like a bit of outdoor art. A bit further on, and I was greeted with a tree laced with lacy womens thongs. Also, a nice artistic touch, but one that I would not have expected to find in an otherwise isolated section of the desert.

The next day, I knew that Lorry would chastise me if I did not get some real aerobic exercise. A large mountain was located directly behind my campsite, and I soon learned that there were trails to it's summit. Trail shoes on, I started out on a hike/run up the mountain.

Campsite with HondaDistances are always a challenge to judge in the desert, and this mountain was no exception. It always seemed to recede, but eventually after 2.5 miles and 1000' of elevation gain, I was on it's summit. I had run with a bottle of water, but at this point the water was long gone.

A few record photos, and I started to head back to the ranch.... or did I? From the summit, there was a maze of trails leading down, and the landscape below was homogenous enough that I didn't really know where to go? By checking the photos I had taken with the phone, I was finally able to retrace my steps, but it has been the last time that I have ever run without a gpx track being captured on my gps enabled phone or watch.

Well rested, it was with renewed enthusiasm for the road that I tidied up my gear in anticipation of the next days ride north, back to the epitome of cultured civilization, Las Vegas.

Travelogue

Respect from Ronald McDonaldStill on Central Time, I was up at 6:00 to be one of the first ones at breakfast. I normally enjoy a full breakfast at home, but on the road it seems almost essential to stock up with some high caloric waffles, eggs, bacon, and coffee of course.

The bike was wet, but for now the skies where cloudy without any measurable precipitation. I entered the freeway and quickly got up to cruising speed. Skies were beautiful as the sun tried to poke through the morning clouds. Todays ride also held the promise of some elevation change. After riding 1000+ miles of flat Texas and Oklahoma I40, crossing the 7000' foot peaks in western New Mexico would be a treat.

Wigwam Motel Teepees with BikeToday, route 66 has been largely superseded by I40. There remain lots of signage encouraging the traveler to exit and experience the legendary route 66, but most of these are simply efforts to encourage tourism on a bypass that otherwise has little to offer of substance.

However,,, there was one stop on the original Route 66 that I wanted to try an visit. This was the legendary Wigwam Motel in Holbrook, AZ. I had seen photos of it's 28' concrete teepees and even considered spending a night in one.

But first, it was lunchtime and I experienced my first "motorcycle parking only" spot at an Albuquerque McDonalds. It was good to get some recognition as a long-distance motorcyclist if even only from Ronald MacDonald.

Pee Break SelfieIn 150 miles further along I40 it was time for a pee break, which conveniently coincided with another R66 classic rest stop, the Arizona Painted Cliffs. The cliffs themselves are visible from the highway and invite a visit just from the natural beauty of the red sandstone cliffs. However, in classic Rt 66 tradition, natural beauty can always be enhanced, and this case it is done with the addition of full size sculptures of deer, elk, horses, teepees, and Indians, that dot the edges of the cliffs above. This is Navajo country and they seem to have learned how to merchandise their heritage with large signage announcing the "Lowest Prices on Indian Artifacts". I managed to avoid the gift shops and steered my trusty iron steed back out onto the highway.

After a few hours more, I exited I40 and got to the legendary Wigwam Motel. While I was too soon to stop for the night it was a good place to photograph some of the "classic cars" that adorned the parking lot outside of the Wigwams. Perhaps it was for best though, as it seemed as though the Wigwam Motel had seen it's better days, and was now just trying to hang onto the memories of whatever stature as a vacation destination that it once had.

Tacos Los AltosI continued down I40, and at mile 500 pulled off in Flagstaff for as good cheap mexican dinner at Tacos Los Altos. Across the street was a Super 8 where I spent the night.

Morning at the Super 8 was the usual breakfast and pre-flight check of the bike before heading out for the days ride. However, this morning a girl loading her car in the parking lot noticed the NJ plate on my bike and seemed genuinely impressed that I had ridden the bike from NJ to Flagstaff. She even took a selfie with me and the bike to show to her boyfriend. It felt good to get an unsolicited confirmation that my cross-country ride might be something extraordinary.

Travelogue

Texas Style BBQFully revived from my two night stay and the services of an able masseuse I was once again, eager to hit the road.

Today ride didn't promise any spectacular scenery, and would hopefully be little more than blasting down the flat straight highway of I40 across the state of Texas. You knew your were in Texas when the Rest Area BBQ grates were in the shape of the state, and the Men's room had all caps TORNADO SHELTER signage as well.

This part of the country is, after all, also known as Tornado alley and weather was one of my major concerns on this stretch of road. Thankfully, I had had little in the way of rain on my trip so far. The forecast for the next few days showed a high likelihood of rain with thunderstorms, possibly severe, but not with any Tornados in the current forecast.

I headed out optimistically, and set my first destination as Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo, Texas. For those unfamiliar with Cadillac Ranch, this is basically an outdoor art exhibit on the ranch of Amariilo's helium magnate Stanley Marsh III. It consists of ten classic Cadillacs, buried nose first into the ground. Spray paint cans are usually found around the base of the vehicles, and visitors are encouraged to leave their own mark on the eclectic exhibit.

We had visited this as a family before in 2002 and curious readers can read Lolo's more detailed description at Cadillac Ranch, TX.

Desert Cadillac Selfie with PhotobomberI parked my trusty steed sporting a NJ license plate, and strolled out to take the required cell phone selfie at the head of the line of Cadillacs.

Quickly back on the road I was up to my cruising speed of between 75 and 80 mph,, or so says my GPX track and Google Earth. I don't remember usually riding that fast, but there were some impressive storm clouds growing to the south, and I was hoping to outrun them before experiencing them first hand.

In fact, I was not the only one noticing the storm clouds to the south of my position on I40. Lorry had been tracking my progress on Google Maps, and had a weather radar window open as well. By checking them both, she could tell better than I could what my weather forecast would be.

The phone rang in my headset,, and I answered to hear Lolo offering mileages to the next few rest stops where I should stop and shelter out the storm that was rapidly approaching. Thanking her profusely, I headed toward the next rest area, but not before being caught in a deluge and gusty winds that threatened to blow me out of my lane. Within 15 minutes however I was safely in a rest area, enjoying a cup of bad coffee and listening to the rain pound on the ceiling above.

Honda ST1100 under Ominous SkiesWithin a half hour, all was well again weatherwise and Lorry had another suggestion. We had never really done justice to Petrified Forest National Park, and since I would be passing right by, might I want to go and check it out. Maybe it was too late in the day, or maybe I was wanted to put in some miles, but for whatever reason I decided to blow off the Park and save it for another day. (Lorry and I did get a chance to go back to Petrified Forest National Park in 2016 when we drove the Camry cross country. It was a great visit, and I'm glad we go to do it together).

I finally struggled into the town of Tucamari, NM. Got some gas and beer and checked into a Days Inn on the highway. Dinner was at the highly regarded "Blakes Lotaburger" where I tried my first green chile burger. After stolling back to the motel, and a few beers I was ready for bed but not before seeing the local weather forecast for tomorrow as "Thunderstorms in the morning, then partly cloudy during the afternoon hours. A few storms may be severe. High 73F. Winds S at 10 to 20 mph. Chance of rain 80%".

I fell into a deep sleep with the sound of rain blowing on my ground floor window.