09/02/03-09/04/03 The big adventure, riding from Orange County to Portland in three days. OK, some hardcore touring types would look at this and laugh - but for me it was the biggest, most challenging ride ever. And for a while to come, I think. Here's how it went.

Day 1.

I had made hotel reservations online a couple of days in advance. My first stop is at Point Reyes, about an hour north of Golden Gate Bridge. The second stop is in Bandon, Oregon. Each of the first two days will require 500-600 miles along the coast, with only 300 or so left for the final day. Flew down to Orange County on September 1st and spent the day getting ready, both mentally and mechanically. Did some maintenance on the bike. Replaced the leaking clutch slave cylinder and got rid of the filthy fluid in the front brakes - it hadn't been changed since '96. Also topped up the oil to max level and lubed the chain. So in the morning, put on the suit, back protector and backpack and headed north. I had been planning to just wear a riding jacket, jeans and street shoes. At the last minute I decided to go with my full Roadcrafter suit and boots - a choice I was really glad for later. My bike stand, street shoes and a few miscellaneous bits went north via UPS. Leaving OC through Los Angeles on 405 the traffic wasn't too bad. I was able to use the commuter lane and split lanes on a few occasions. Lane splitting is a somewhat Biblical experience :)

Over on 101, it suddenly got a lot warmer. Questioned my choice of attire but nothing to do about it now but sweat it out. Once 101 got past Ventura and followed the coast things cooled down dramatically. Thanked myself for choice of attire. A couple hours into the journey, as 101 was about to head inland again a ways north of Santa Barbara, I stopped at a state beach for a while to refuel with a Balance bar and stretch my legs.

Soon higway 1 split off and I followed it. Despite the promising beginning the section of 1 up to San Luis Obispo is entirely missable. 101 is more picturesque and faster too. Well, I had to see what's there. Now I have.

From SLO, 1 splits off again and heads towards Morro Bay. The road cuts through the rolling hills in broad sweeping curves, then hugs the cold and foggy coast before climbing the coastal range north of San Simeon.

I keep up a reasonable pace (70-80 mph), blasting past most traffic and enjoying the sweepers. Occasional low visibility adds a touch of excitement. The mountains loom ahead and I prepare myself for entering the clouds... Tight switchbacks with sometimes 50-foot visibility, miserable cold and soggy wind. Oh, and sheer drops on the left. I figure that doubling the posted corner speeds is about right so I proceed at accordingly at 30-90 mph when not impeded by traffic. There is a lot of ground to cover today. A few stops for fuel and pictures. The bike surprises me with roughly 50mpg which is the best mileage I've ever gotten in any vehicle. Cool.

The progress becomes almost routine, with countless vistas and endless strings of turns. I pass much traffic (not always legally but so it goes) and manage a reasonable pace overall. Back onto 101 north of Big Sur, then through Monterey. Hit some traffic again, fortunately lane splitting is an available and well-practiced option. I manage 25-30 mph through a couple miles of cars parked 2 and sometimes 3 lanes wide. It's around 6:30 PM when I make it to the Golden Gate Bridge. Quite tired but the most challenging part of the ride is still ahead. Just north of Golden Gate I get hit with a lot of wind and the first actual rain on the trip. Great. Trying to stay in my lane takes my attention away from the impressive views... And then I exit onto highway 1. In a mile or so it starts climbing the coastal range. From that point until Stinson Beach, it's 10 miles of continuous corners marked 15-20 mph. Add poor surface. Then add heavy fog. And chilling, gusty wind. Then subtract what's left of rapidly fading daylight. I tiptoe through the turns at 30 mph or so, always on edge about what's around the next blind corner. There is no traffic. Only shreds of fog ripping across the road in Ducati's weak headlight. A heart-skip moment when front end slides on some gravel, and I'm no longer cold thanks to afterglow of adrenaline flooding my bloodstream. Gotta look at the bright side.

After Stinson Beach the road smoothes out, following some wetlands with nice 60 mph sweepers (they are marked 45 for some strange reason). Before long I'm at Reyes Point and without much difficulty locate the hotel - actually a bed-and-breakfast cottage sitting on stilts at the end of a pier jutting out into Tomales bay. I collect the key at the main lodge then follow the road a few miles to the cottage itself. Decide to park the bike on the pier (decision to be regretted later), put the cover on it for the night, then go soak in the hottub overlooking the bay. A bit of stargazing and I'm ready to call it a day. There is amazing calm and quiet. Not a sound at all. Great contrast to roar of wind and engine during 11 hours on the bike, covering some 600 miles.

Day 2.

I wake up to flashes of lightning, just before dusk. It's silent at first. Then joined by rolling thunder. Great. A bit of light rain outside, then as the sun rises it seems to clear up and the clouds are going away. I spend some more time taking in the quiet and look around the cottage.

Encouraged by the clearing I have breakfast and grab a shower... emerging only to find that mother nature had a similar idea. It's pouring outside. About 30 minutes later there is a break in the rain, and I decide to head out. Bike cover packed, gear on... I go to push the bike back up to the road, up a short gravel slope. Then I lose my footing on the soft gravel and I drop it! DAMN. Right side fairing is scratched bad enough that it will need a repaint. Oh well. I back the bike onto the pier, fire it up and with a running start make it up the gravel slope, nearly dropping it again. Should have just parked by the road. Live and learn. While examining the damage I also check the oil level and find that it's at minimum again. So I burned half a quart in 600 miles. Will need to find someplace that sells synthetic along the way.

Heading north on 1, it's cold, miserable and rainy. The road is foggy and wet. The suit makes it survivable and I once again thank myself for making the right choice (this will be a recurring pattern).

The road would actually be totally awesome if it weren't for the conditions. It winds its way along the coast, sometimes passing through impressive eucalyptus groves, other times clinging to the cliffs above the ocean. The problem is that it is soaked with rain and visibility sometimes drops to 20 feet or so. Therefore it is quite stressful and I feel like I'm on my toes the entire time (that being several hours). A couple of times I wonder if I'm being too conservative, feed the throttle in a tiny bit in a turn only to feel the back wheel step out. Hmmm... I guess this is all there is. The morning incident does not embolden me in any way, so I just press on at 35-50 mph, wiping the rain and fog from my visor every few minutes. Eventually the fog lifts, the road flattens out, and I even find an auto parts store where I buy some synthetic oil and top it up.

Along the way, eucalyptus groves are gradually replaced by fir and then redwoods. Highway 1 fnally breaks away from the coast by climbing over the coastal range. Wet, cold and foggy on the way up, then over the summit it suddenly gets hot and muggy. The road is still drying with steam rising off its glistening surface, and there are leaves in most of the corners. More tiptoeing, bone-chilling cold now replaced with sauna heat. Finally 1 ends and I welcome the long sweeping multilane curves of 101 heading north. I had driven in this area some 10 years ago, when I had first moved to California. The scenery brings back some memories - of bittersweet kind. At least I'm able to cover some ground, maintaining 80+mph pace. I take a couple of detours through the redwoods. Avenue of the Giants and later a similar detour through a state park impart a cathedral-like aura. It is amazing to be amongst living things so massive in both size and age.

Past Eureka, the road straighens out and joins the coast once more. On a bike I'm really aware of the pockets of alternating cold and hot air. Sometimes the breeze comes off the ocean, penetratingly cold, smelling of salt and kelp. Other times it's warm, pine scented and trying to push me into the left lane. Gradually the coast becomes more Oregon-like, with shallow, sandy beaches and offshore rocks replacing the cliffs and emerald-colored surf of California. Driftwood is piled like bleached bones along many beaches.

And finally, a milestone of sorts - a goodbye to California. I finally enter Oregon. The road flows along the coast, sometimes right along the water (with the attendant freezing wind), sometimes sneaking inland where it's sunny and warm. Too warm at times. Still, I make it to Bandon, my next stop, just in time to find the B&B and catch a most spectacular sunset.

The Bed&Breakfast place is very nice, with great views and complimentary wine. I down half a bottle of good Merlot then walk down to a nearby restaurant for a nice dinner. Then back at the B&B I finish the bottle, watch some Benny Hill on the VCR and chat with a couple also staying there. Then it's off to bed... A little over 500 miles and around 10 hours in the saddle for the day.

Day 3.

With most of the mileage behind me, I'm a little more relaxed. I eat breakfast and even attempt being social at the table with the other guests. The results are indeterminate... ah well, I tried. So it's back on the road. It is possible to make it back to Portland in under 5 hours by taking 18 up to 5. But that is a nasty drive... So I stick to the coast and even go a bit out of the way to hit 53, one of my favorite roads.

By the time I get to 53 it is some 5 hours into the day, but the road is clear, dry, free of traffic, and the temperature is just right. I proceed to have what is by far the best run of the trip. The corners are marked 20-35mph, I tear them up at 45-70. There are long strings of turns with rapid left-right-left transitions. I'm grinning ear to ear. Came within a quarter inch of touching knees down, which is unusual for me on the street.

The fun over, I turn onto 26 for the final 50-some miles to Portland. Some of it is still entertaining with 80mph sweeping turns. Plenty of passing maneuvers of varied legality. Finally 26 becomes a freeway and I drone along ready for the trip to be over. Then traffic is stopped - turns out there is an accident several miles ahead. After debating it for a while and watching my oil temp needle soar, I opt for the illegal-in-Oregon lane splitting technique. Much to irritation of many I make my way forward amongst immobilized cars and blaring horns. Tough. Then exiting on my favorite play road, a final bit of exercise for both myself and the bike. Nice end to a very long trip. So finally, after 28 hours on the bike in 3 days and some 1400 miles, the 900 is in my driveway. A little worse for wear, but that will get fixed shortly.

Once I get the energy, the bike will get a thorough cleaning, a repaint on right fairing, a new chain and rear sprocket, and possibly some new tires. It's probably due for a valve adjustment, too. the bike now has 9300 miles on it, rivalling the M Coupe for my highest-mileage vehicle. And it carries countless memories :)