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Day 4 : Eureka to Mountain View, CA

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My final day. The rain started while I was sleeping. I didn’t stop until I got to Mountain View.

I might have made a mistake in deciding to stay on the PCH (SR-1).
The view was amazing, but in the wet, it was dreary, and down-right scary in some places.

In fact. I managed to ‘depart controlled flight’ as my pilot instructor would say. I ended up sliding off the road at the apex of a tight corner that had a standing puddle hidden from view until it was too late. In retrospect, I was getting too comfortable with the deteriorating conditions and likely wanted to get going and continue at all costs.

It was a very low speed tip-over by the time I got things under control on the side of the road, but I still managed to scratch up my leathers and ding the fairing on the right hand side – badly enough that it needs replacing. Honda wants all together too much for this repair, so I managed to find someone on craigslist (yeah!) with the right parts (and more) at less total cost than the two Honda parts I needed. So with some modest paint work (the tank cover and inner side fairings) and a ton of elbow grease, I should have a new bike look shortly. (Repsol replica). This is much better than the factory red, of which I was never a fan. Regardless, it was very frustrating to drop the bike – once in the garage and once on this ride within a 2 week period after years of not dropping anything.

All in all it was a powerful reminder that I ride for fun, not to win a race, that I should remember to look through the turns and that paying to fix your leathers is money well spent. Oh – and I’m not getting any younger.

Of course, the deed isn’t done yet and much mashing of teeth might have to happen in order for me to be through this experience.

That said – the ride was still amazing. There was a moment near the redwood scenic parkway where the sun broke through and the light shone down through the canopy in what any cinematographer could only describe as ‘prototypical angelic forest scene’ — top that with the way the road wound around the trees, a little steam rising from the road and a fantastic rhythm from apex to apex and it was an altogether biker nirvana albeit far too brief in duration. The rain returned moments later to take the edge off my euphoria and add edges where I didn’t know I needed them.

With the downpour set to ‘drench’, the euphoria I had experienced at every other major crossing of the trip was dulled and muted when I reached the Golden Gate Bridge. Having to fiddle around with my wallet while wearing all the rain gear to pay the toll took the remaining romance out of the moment, but a few minutes later as I completed the climb up the bridge deck, I recovered enough composure and wonder to be delighted at the accomplishments. Aware that I still had a distance to go – I tried to celebrate the intermediate goal and not settle too quickly into the “I made it” mode.

The 101 turns into downtown San Francisco, where curiously, it was not raining. I needed to pay attention, after 3 long days without city traffic, downtown San Francisco required more attention that I had at the ready.

Once I was back on the 101 southbound and passing the airport (SFO) I realized that I had, indeed, done it. I was retracing the rental car route that is so familiar to me, but I was on my own bike and it was very satisfying (excepting that blasphemous never ending rain).

My leathers are still drying out – and that’s THROUGH the rain gear.

Day 3 : Portland,OR to Eureka, CA

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• Had to wait out the fog this morning.
• Late start – rode the Interstate to a point then out via HWY 20 to Newport and down the coast on the 101.
• Fantastic Oregon coastal views, sand dunes, etc.
• Too focused on making ground to stop and take photos — oops

Dinner at a little seaside fish and chips place (???) was excellent food.Seagulls were aggressive but the didn’t get my food.Found a second wind and ended up in Eureka, CA for the night.Riding through the redwoods was amazingly cool at night, surreal scale issues.

Day 2 : 985 km : Fernie, BC to Lake Oswego, OR (Portland, OR)


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Day 2 started out without incident, however I am always surprised at how long it takes to saddle up the bike and put the luggage on, etc.

The fall colours in Fernie and surrounds were breathtaking. Literally. I’m not one to wax on about fall colours in the west, especially since I used to live in eastern Canada where as easterners all know; things are much better. Having said that – every twist and turn in the highway was a treat and a half with bright yellows and the odd red foliage in various stages of turning. It was beautiful in a way that just reminds you to stop and look sometimes. Sadly, it failed to make me stop and photograph, so I’ll have to repeat this experience next year to document it better.

I had coffee and breakfast in Cranbrook, BC at a small independent coffee shop. I suspect that the locals thought I was a Martian in my leathers. Especially since I’m sure there was a good forty years age difference between myself and the majority of the clientele. They had handy Expresso [sic] cheat sheet cards on the tables to help customers decipher the myriad of drink choices before them, especially since you had to know a word or two of a foreign language to order them. Unfortunately, the educational material had some serious errors, but I figured world peace and understanding would not be affected if a few octogenarians didn’t quite understand the difference between a Latté and a Cappuccino. World peace may be affected, however, by the alarming incidence of camouflage themed track suits, pants, jackets and shirts that were running wild in the same crowd. I felt like they were all likely The Backup customers and I wasn’t about to test my theory.

The ride to the Idaho border was one postcard moment after another, punctuated with shivers, violent swearing and oaths to never ride after labour day again, ever. It was stunning outside, in a both picturesque and caloric or thermodynamic way.

The border personnel were very kind and friendly – but I’ve become quite accustomed to this. With regular business travel, the engagement has become routine and occasionally humorous. I find that if you are in line with expectations and above board – as we all should be – the border crossing is easy and pleasant. Questions were more obviously focused on the bike than on my trip. Of course, as a security minded professional, I know that from his point of view, this is just as useful as asking me trip related questions. My degree of ease and response capabilities are just as easily measured through “idle chat” as through direct questioning. If I was incongruent, it will be just as easy to spot, regardless of the topic.

I was suffering from debilitating back pain at this point and was sure that I would have to turn around and head home. I decided in a rash moment that I likely needed more freedom of movement to deal with the aches and pains so I shed the Dainese technical safety jacket. From that point on, my comfort level rose hourly. I think this is mostly to do with the extra restrictions on my motion that the safety jacket created, but in the end I was much better off.

The northern part of Idaho looked a lot like the Bitteroot Valley region of Montana and I think that Jared Diamond would have been hard pressed to tell the difference. (photo)

I stopped for a late coffee / snack in Spokane, WA and had someone ask me if Alberta was just past (local town name here).

Yes ma’am, Alberta is just past Fubar, WA. Approximately 10 times further away, north of Montana.

I lost her on North of Montana. The glazed expression said enough – she had no idea what was north of the 49th parallel and didn’t really grasp that she was south of Canada and specifically, south of British Columbia. I can’t really lay this one at her feet though. I’ve seen the local news. They crop the globe at 49 degress and only peripherally refer to Canada as that place where the cold air comes from.

Passing south towards the Tri-Cities area (don’t ask me what the cities are) I had a funny experience in wine country: A pervasive smell of grape juice in the air. You’d miss it in a car with air conditioning, but for me, it was as though my head was thrust into a room where the juice is pressed.

I only hope that the wine / grapes do not pick up the reciprocal ‘eau d’exhaust’ essence. Puns all intended.

Once established on the main roads, I followed I-84 to I-5 into Portland. Found a room at the Hilton Garden Inn in Lake Oswego and crashed into bed. Hard.

Day 1 : 285 km : Calgary to Fernie, BC via Longview.

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Some work commitments left me with a later start than I wanted, but I headed out anyway – the theory being that any miles I cover tonight are free. In the end I made it far enough to put a real dent in the rest of the trip, so the decision was sound.

I was very impressed with the scenery around Longview, AB. Longview was sort of the butt of a joke in some older Telus Mobility advertising where the punch line included a fellow with an impossibly thick Scottish accent asking “Where the heck is Longview?!”.

Turns out an old University acquaintance of mine has settled down on a ranch not too far from Longview and I have to say, if you are into ranches, big sky and open beauty. Longview has much to offer.

Hwy 22 – the route I took south to Hwy 3 – is a really picturesque snapshot of Alberta – I think it is all the stereotypical ranch and cowboy scenery packaged in one roadside attraction.

I had dinner in Coleman, AB at a friendly hotel restaurant that served mostly what I can only describe as basic Anglo-fare. Uninspired, but tasty.

I set out and ended my evening in Fernie, BC at the Best Western. They took good care of me and I have to admit – the venue exceeded expectations on all accounts.