SATURDAY, JUNE 18, 2011
Ashland, Oregon to Placerville, California
359.0 miles/1017.9 miles
I left Tom's place at 6:30 am, and rode for a couple of hours before stopping for breakfast and gassing up for the next leg of the trip to Dale's place in Placerville, California. I-5 in southern Oregon passes through a mountain pass as it continues into California and, within another hour or so, Mt. Shasta made an appearance, my first stop for photos in California.
From Vancouver to Placerville, I took very few photos, considering that the real trip starts once Al and I get together and, so, I focused on getting to Dale's as quickly as possible - hence, 1,000 plus miles of freeway riding, in amongst the huge volume of trucks that ply I-5 transporting, I'm sure, all manner of goods - taking little time to linger for photos.
About 50 miles north of Sacramento, thinking that I was making good time, I moved out of the slow lane to pass a line of some trucks I had been following and, without any warning signs, road work had removed the top couple of inches of asphalt, leaving the bane of any motorcyclist's - a scarified road surface with a series of grooves parallel to the line of travel. These are unnerving, particularly as I hit that surface at 70 mph and quickly tried slowing down, despite the line of cars behind be wanting to continue at the posted speed limit. Now, to get back to the slow lane, I had to wait for an opening between the continuous line of trucks and, at the same time, negotiate the 2-inch change of elevation in the road surface.
Once I got onto the slow lane, and relatively safe, orange cones merged the left lane to the right and, soon after, all traffic quickly came to a complete halt - a 5-mile line of al manner of vehicles, stopped in the heat of the sun. Unlike all the cars and trucks in front and behind me, I do not have air conditioning. After an hour and a half of stop and go and a clutch wrist ready to drop off, we finally start moving and get past the road work - not on my side of the road, but the other! Sitting in the sun going north, there is a 5-mile line of cars.
As I ride into Sacramento center, looking for Route 50 to Placerville, I am in the lane next to the fast lane on a 6-lane, crowded freeway when a tractor -trailer, in my lane and 6 or 7 car lengths in front of me, swerved and hit a car to its right and left, sending the car on the left off the pavement, and I could see a cloud of debris, and the truck slamming on his brakes, it's lights bright red with a warning. Fortunately, I had been checking my mirrors and knew that no one was on my right and I quickly changed lanes and swerved around the stopping truck and pulled away from what was surely a mess of a traffic tie up.
Al and I arrived safely at Dale and Myanna's place in the middle of the afternoon; I traveled 1,017 miles and, Al, 625 miles from San Diego, to to reach our starting point of riding together; Don arrived soon after, via car from San Francisco and we were all warmly welcomed by our hosts with a cold glass of milk (kinda like winning the Indy 500, which the winner celebrates each year by swilling milk).and Myanna's homemade cookies (yum!), followed by beer and a taco dinner. Al and Don showed off their GPS prowess by getting lost approximately 400 yards from Dale's house, with Al requiring a call in to find his way (this, of course, doesn't bode well for finding our way to Montana, should he be in the lead). Meanwhile, Don's car was "attacked by a giant rock," which he somehow managed to back into.
Ashland, Oregon to Placerville, California
359.0 miles/1017.9 miles
I left Tom's place at 6:30 am, and rode for a couple of hours before stopping for breakfast and gassing up for the next leg of the trip to Dale's place in Placerville, California. I-5 in southern Oregon passes through a mountain pass as it continues into California and, within another hour or so, Mt. Shasta made an appearance, my first stop for photos in California.
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| Mt. Shasta |
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| Looking West to the Coastal Mountains, North of Sacramento |
About 50 miles north of Sacramento, thinking that I was making good time, I moved out of the slow lane to pass a line of some trucks I had been following and, without any warning signs, road work had removed the top couple of inches of asphalt, leaving the bane of any motorcyclist's - a scarified road surface with a series of grooves parallel to the line of travel. These are unnerving, particularly as I hit that surface at 70 mph and quickly tried slowing down, despite the line of cars behind be wanting to continue at the posted speed limit. Now, to get back to the slow lane, I had to wait for an opening between the continuous line of trucks and, at the same time, negotiate the 2-inch change of elevation in the road surface.
Once I got onto the slow lane, and relatively safe, orange cones merged the left lane to the right and, soon after, all traffic quickly came to a complete halt - a 5-mile line of al manner of vehicles, stopped in the heat of the sun. Unlike all the cars and trucks in front and behind me, I do not have air conditioning. After an hour and a half of stop and go and a clutch wrist ready to drop off, we finally start moving and get past the road work - not on my side of the road, but the other! Sitting in the sun going north, there is a 5-mile line of cars.
As I ride into Sacramento center, looking for Route 50 to Placerville, I am in the lane next to the fast lane on a 6-lane, crowded freeway when a tractor -trailer, in my lane and 6 or 7 car lengths in front of me, swerved and hit a car to its right and left, sending the car on the left off the pavement, and I could see a cloud of debris, and the truck slamming on his brakes, it's lights bright red with a warning. Fortunately, I had been checking my mirrors and knew that no one was on my right and I quickly changed lanes and swerved around the stopping truck and pulled away from what was surely a mess of a traffic tie up.
Al and I arrived safely at Dale and Myanna's place in the middle of the afternoon; I traveled 1,017 miles and, Al, 625 miles from San Diego, to to reach our starting point of riding together; Don arrived soon after, via car from San Francisco and we were all warmly welcomed by our hosts with a cold glass of milk (kinda like winning the Indy 500, which the winner celebrates each year by swilling milk).and Myanna's homemade cookies (yum!), followed by beer and a taco dinner. Al and Don showed off their GPS prowess by getting lost approximately 400 yards from Dale's house, with Al requiring a call in to find his way (this, of course, doesn't bode well for finding our way to Montana, should he be in the lead). Meanwhile, Don's car was "attacked by a giant rock," which he somehow managed to back into.
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Joe Arriving at Lyselaire |
Though we correspond frequently via e-mail, I haven't seen Dale since the completion of our wilderness horse trip adventure (documented in our journal, Across the Bob Marshall Wilderness - A Trip to Nature Primeval - edited by Geraldine Rosenfield, Rachel's Mom), in 1999. Though this is a too-short visit, good friendships are always in need of first-person refreshment, when we can sit in the same room and have some enjoyable remembrances and good laughs.
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| Myanna Stovall, Dale Leyse and Don Rosenfield |
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| Al and Joe |
I can see that this blog will have to be an additive event, given the difficulty I'm having, in some areas, with connectivity. Tonight, I can't get photos to download in less than 45 min. each - it's remote here at Dale's!! For yesterday's blog, I have added some text and photos, but even there I'm not done.
For today, I now have photos that Dale, Myanna and I took, from which I will select and add when I can. I'll try to work a bit on it tomorrow morning and see if things are faster. This blogging business is difficult and time-consuming, with demanding readers expecting, in our electronic world, instant gratification! I'm much more appreciative, now, of my cousin Ron's efforts - how did he ride each day and still find time to do all that writing? Superhuman, obviously.
Uncle Don: How could you have forgotten about the well-known, belligerent temperament of Placerville rocks?
ReplyDeleteDale and Dad: Amazing that you two hadn't seen each other since 99! If you'll remember... in 99 Mark McGwire was at the peak of his pre-steriod scandal glory, blasting mammoth, juice-powered home runs in the home run derby at Fenway Park... Devin had just graduated from high school... and yours truly sprouted the first peach fuzz follicle from his chin
Uncle Al : Should you get lost in Montana, I know a fellow out there named Grhyz Leigh Beher who would have no problem redirecting you...
HAPPY FATHER"S DAY TO YOU ALL!! Stay Safe!!
ReplyDeleteThose rocks are sneaky little bastards.
ReplyDelete