I haven't posted much lately because I recently moved from the Eastern Panhandle of West Virginia to the bay area of California. Life has been busy with the adjustment and with work, but I finally got a chance to spend a whole day exploring without an agenda or a care in the world. Yesterday I went on perhaps the most beautiful, enjoyable, exciting, and skills challenging motorcycle ride I've ever been on. Unfortunately my wife couldn't come this time, but I'll definitely be repeating this ride with her sometime in the future. Since I work for an Irish company, we had Good Friday off and I took advantage of the sunny day in the mid-sixties to go exploring towards the coast. As usual, my trusty steed instinctively headed out towards the Napa Valley. I took the scenic Silverado Trail northward past countless vineyards and the hypnotic symmetry of the rows of vines. I didn't stop for pictures at this early stage of the ride because I've taken so many already on previous rides, but the beauty of the valley never gets old for me. Eventually I got to the town of Calistoga, then northward to Geyserville on Rt. 128. (Teeny and I went to Calistoga not too long ago and got a mud bath and massage. There is quite a bit of underground thermal activity there, and the natural hot springs and mud baths bring in lots of tourists.) I wasn't in search of a good mud bath this time, but instead I was looking for a great cycle road and Rt. 128 didn't disappoint. It was full of predictable twists and turns with an assortment of elevation changes that made me feel like I was riding back in West Virginia for a while. It was better than WV however because the lack of dense foliage allowed me to see through the turns and not guess at what might be at the end of the curve while I'm leaning at a 45 degree angle. I enjoyed this road for miles until I got to a small town called Booneville, where the sirens song of seduction began calling my name. A nondescript turnoff with the name of "Mountain View Road" caught my eye, and for the next 30 miles or so I was in motorcycle heaven. I should have stopped for a picture at the sign which said "Slow: curves next 20 miles", but I was too anxious to blast up the winding incline into the shade of the tall pines. I should also have stopped again when I entered a lush section along the road that was so humid for a while that it felt like a rainforest instead of the CA mountains. I tried to stop for picture in front of some giant coastal Redwoods, but I still couldn't get the grin off of my face and the enticement of the next curve was too great. Eventually I reached my first summit and couldn't ignore the spectacular views I saw all around me. I took several pictures as I made my way from east to west across the mountain range, each time assuming that there couldn't be a view more spectacular than the one I was currently witnessing. Each time I was wrong however, and I ended up stopping 10 to 15 times for futile attempts at capturing what I was seeing on my inadequate camera. Even a panoramic camera setting wouldn't begin capture the majesty of the view laid out before me. Amazingly, for the whole distance of the road, I never came up on another car blocking my view or my path. I was free to twist my wrist with abandon, only limited by the occasioanl 15 MPH curves with deadly drop-offs to keep me honest. Finally, as quick as this amazing road began, I found myself descending out of the trees to see the endless blue of the Pacific Ocean spread out in front of me. I would have been content with just that amazing ride through wine country and a mountain ridge, but the coastal Highway 1 was unlike anything I'd ever experienced on two wheels. Forget the many times I've ridden along Florida's A1A, or any other East Coast beach, this ride down the coast was unlike any other coastal ride I've ever done. It compares in excitement like a plastic backyard kiddie pool to a giant waterpark wave pool. I was awestruck at the shear cliffs and rocky inlets, and the rugged, harsh way the water met with the land. The road wound right along the coast for the most part and was a never-ending series of gentle and tight turns, each leading to another breathtaking vista. The asphalt surface was immaculate and the traffic was extremely light, but it was still difficult to ride because I had a hard time concentrating on the road. I was so distracted by the beauty around me that the last thing I wanted to do was miss it all by staring at the road. Unfortunately, I did miss so many of the sights around me because I had to watch this winding road very carefully. With curves so prevelant it would get tedious to post "slow: 20 MPH" sign on every corner, so I had to always be on guard for that surprise tight turn without a sign. In a couple of areas, inattentiveness could have disastrous results in the form of a long fall and motorcycle bath in the ocean, so even I took it a bit slow on the higher curves with the shear drop-offs. I don't know how many miles I rode along the coast, but it wasn't enough. This was one of those rides when I couldn't care less about stopping to rest. I rode continually with the exception of stopping for photos and gas, yet I didn't even notice any fatigue or soreness as the day went on. Eventually my coastal views came to an end and I traded them in for more pastoral views as I headed back inland for the final leg of my journey. The coastal hills are a vibrant green this time of year, and the wildflowers are out in force. As I headed back towards Petaluma and eventually to Fairfield I was amazed at how diverse California is. Suddenly I was away from the ocean breeze, and instead I was smelling the rich assortment of aromas that come from grazing sheep and dairy cows. These hills are gentle and rolling with long stretches of open road between them. What better way to end a great day of riding than to hit the turbo in fourth gear and pull a gentle wheelie past a line of 5 slow cars on a big long straightaway in the middle of nowhere. After a long day of obedient and slow riding, the trusty steed deserved a moment to stretch her legs, and I was more than happy to oblige her. All things considered, I can't think of a better ride. Did I mention how great northern California is for riding?
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Click here to see my route on Google Maps
www.warrenbrown.com images missing
Click here to see the rest of the Photos
Click here to see my route on Google Maps
www.warrenbrown.com images missing
