Don-STOC237
08-22-2005, 12:00 AM
Had a lovely ride today with my friends Ed (Sumner) on his VSTrom 1K, now newly equipped with mile-wide giant aluminum panniers, and Andre on his short-range Yamaha R1. Andre was just fresh off of two speeding tickets (honest officer, the bike actually does ride better on one wheel). :-)
Ed and Andre came down from Sparks and arrived at my hovel in Smith Valley about 11 a.m.. After a quick break and a little chat, we took off for the high Sierra. It only took us 6 miles, climbing out of Smith Valley, before we executed our first multiple-vehicle double-yellow pass. I believe the count was three cars, four pickups, a camper, and leading the pack, a wide load vehicle hauling the paving machine that had just finished paving the construction zone we were in. I shudder to think of the size of the fine we would have received had we been spotted by Nevada's finest. It was Ed's fault, he was in the lead. :-)
We got onto US395 and immediately caught up to a line of cars as we passed into California. I could tell Mr. Type A Ed was itching to pass them all but unfortunately, opposing traffic kept our mischief in check temporarily. Turning off onto CA89 toward Monitor Pass, we had a fine romp, passing Harley's by the dozen. On to CA4, Ebbetts Pass, where we encountered all the traffic usually expected on a fine summer Sunday. Note: This is the reason I never ride the Sierra passes on weekends unless I am riding with friends who insist on working for a living.
Plenty of traffic on 4 kept us busy passing cars, pickups, bicycles, Harleys, Goldwings, pedestrians and other slow things. There is one area on the road where I always get a scare, and today was no exception. There is about a 2 mile stretch of this road that sort of hangs out over outer space, clinging to the side of the mountains. Going west you're on the outside of the road. Did I mention there are no guard rails and about a thousand foot drop, and the road is only about 12 feet wide? Anyway, whenever I go there, I never ever fail to meet a pickup truck coming down that stretch, usually being surprised by same coming around a blind left hand corner. Today was no exception, and of course, the Ford F250 (looked a lot like mine) crew cab was taking his full 10 feet of the road. Thank god it wasn't a dually or I'd be posting this from either paradise or someplace very very warm.
Andre and I did a little breakaway at one point, when Ed became trapped behind some moron in a motorhome who chose to ignore the warning signs about 24% grades and not recommended for anything over 26 feet long. I was following Andre and we caught up to a couple riding 2up on a Bmw 1200 light truck. They were exceptionally good riders on that rig. We finally passed them on one of the Pacific Grade Summit's fabulous switchbacks. They just couldn't accelerate 2 up at 8000 feet fast enough coming out of the switchback to keep up with the mighty R1 and the mighty ST1100. :-)
After a great romp down 4, interrupted only 2 or 3 times by Andre's need to get fuel every 30 or 40 miles (it seemed) in his R1, we stopped at the lovely hamlet of Arnold (no doubt named after the Governator of Caleeeforneea) for more fuel and a spot of lunch. During lunch (for me a totally uninspired french dip sandwich. Digression; I only order those because I like the name, I think most of them are, Andre is an exception), Ed remarked how much he enjoyed the right-hand, steep, uphill, off-camber switchbacks on 4, and I heartily agreed. They do test your mettle as a rider. There's one there, that when approached from west to east (downhill), that I like to call the "Exit to the Eternal Rest STop" because it's blind, all you see is outer space and the road just sort of disappears down underneath you to the left. Great fun though, especially the 10th or 15th time you ride it.
After lunch we followed the previously-plotted route through the hinterlands of California, north toward CA88. Not being your ordinary Nancy-boy main-route riders, and especially since Ed got his VSTrom and outfitted it with gear designed to make it look like he is about to tackle the Dakar Rally, I had plotted a route to totally avoid the dreaded CA49 -- (for the unititiated, CA49 on Sunday is roughly equivalent to the seventh level of Hell, trafficwise.)
The route, for those of you interested enough to look at a map, was Avery-Sheep Ranch road to Sheep Ranch, Sheep Ranch Road to Railroad Flats Road to WeST Point, CA26 to Defender Grade, to Pioneer on CA88. Of course, I decided at WeST Point that we should take a right and explore a possibly "better" route back to CA88. So we had a nice 20 mile or so detour while we explored a couple of nice back roads and then stopped a guy who told us we couldn't get to 88 from there. So we went back to WeST Point and followed the huge sign that said "88 This Way!" stopping, of course, in WeST Point so Andre could get some more fuel in his R1.
After that, CA88 was a bit of an anti-climax, more Harley and car and truck passing. The only excitement came when I, now in the lead and completing a double-yellow pass of two cars at the late end of a passing zone, crested a little hill on the wrong side of the double yellow, and found myself looking straight at the front end of a parked CHP SUV in perfect position to radar me. I looked at my heads-up Garmin speedometer. Hmmm, 69 in a 55 zone and I've already decelerated about 5 mph since I saw him. I guess I'm toast. I went past him and expected to see the disco lights and smoking tire u-turns I've become so familiar with over the years, but wait, nothing is happening! ***? Why isn't he chasing this scofflaw old fat guy? He couldn't have missed my electric yellow Darien and my headlight modulator, could he? Apparently he could. Ed and Andre, who didn't make it past the two vehicles, said he had his head down in paperwork when they flew by him. So, I guess everyone gets lucky from time to time, even me. :-)
So, after lots more sweepers, illegal passes, and at least three more fuel stops for the R1 (just kidding about these, there really weren't that many) we parted ways at Woodfords, with me going to another run at Monitor Pass on the way home, and Ed and Andre heading back up to Reno/Sparks through Carson Valley and up 395.
I only passed 6 or 8 people illegally on the way up and down Monitor Pass, the traffic having subsided as the evening approached. One motorhome actually used a turnout for me, imagine that? I always thought that California people were immune to using turnouts, a practice that smacks of politeness.
At the junction of 89 and 395, a Harley was parked. Talked to the rider, who inquired of me as to whether I had spotted the rest of his party in my travels. Apparently he had gotten separated from his group, and you all know what that means to a Harley rider. Oooooooooooooo!!!! And he still had to make it to Sacramento, and it was after 6 p.m. I hadn't seen his group, so went on my merry way.
After a fillup at Topaz Lodge ($2.729) I headed back to lovely Smith Valley. About the time I was halfway up Jack Wright Pass, it started to rain, so my experience coming down the pass into the valley, in the rain, on asphalt laid this morning, was a bit scary to say the least. Don't you just love all those pretty colors the oil leaching out of the asphalt makes when it's wet?
Arrived home to two hungry and anxious dogs, three hungry horses, and a couple of Tanq/tonics.
A great ride with great friends. Life is good.
Don -- STOC 237
Ed and Andre came down from Sparks and arrived at my hovel in Smith Valley about 11 a.m.. After a quick break and a little chat, we took off for the high Sierra. It only took us 6 miles, climbing out of Smith Valley, before we executed our first multiple-vehicle double-yellow pass. I believe the count was three cars, four pickups, a camper, and leading the pack, a wide load vehicle hauling the paving machine that had just finished paving the construction zone we were in. I shudder to think of the size of the fine we would have received had we been spotted by Nevada's finest. It was Ed's fault, he was in the lead. :-)
We got onto US395 and immediately caught up to a line of cars as we passed into California. I could tell Mr. Type A Ed was itching to pass them all but unfortunately, opposing traffic kept our mischief in check temporarily. Turning off onto CA89 toward Monitor Pass, we had a fine romp, passing Harley's by the dozen. On to CA4, Ebbetts Pass, where we encountered all the traffic usually expected on a fine summer Sunday. Note: This is the reason I never ride the Sierra passes on weekends unless I am riding with friends who insist on working for a living.
Plenty of traffic on 4 kept us busy passing cars, pickups, bicycles, Harleys, Goldwings, pedestrians and other slow things. There is one area on the road where I always get a scare, and today was no exception. There is about a 2 mile stretch of this road that sort of hangs out over outer space, clinging to the side of the mountains. Going west you're on the outside of the road. Did I mention there are no guard rails and about a thousand foot drop, and the road is only about 12 feet wide? Anyway, whenever I go there, I never ever fail to meet a pickup truck coming down that stretch, usually being surprised by same coming around a blind left hand corner. Today was no exception, and of course, the Ford F250 (looked a lot like mine) crew cab was taking his full 10 feet of the road. Thank god it wasn't a dually or I'd be posting this from either paradise or someplace very very warm.
Andre and I did a little breakaway at one point, when Ed became trapped behind some moron in a motorhome who chose to ignore the warning signs about 24% grades and not recommended for anything over 26 feet long. I was following Andre and we caught up to a couple riding 2up on a Bmw 1200 light truck. They were exceptionally good riders on that rig. We finally passed them on one of the Pacific Grade Summit's fabulous switchbacks. They just couldn't accelerate 2 up at 8000 feet fast enough coming out of the switchback to keep up with the mighty R1 and the mighty ST1100. :-)
After a great romp down 4, interrupted only 2 or 3 times by Andre's need to get fuel every 30 or 40 miles (it seemed) in his R1, we stopped at the lovely hamlet of Arnold (no doubt named after the Governator of Caleeeforneea) for more fuel and a spot of lunch. During lunch (for me a totally uninspired french dip sandwich. Digression; I only order those because I like the name, I think most of them are, Andre is an exception), Ed remarked how much he enjoyed the right-hand, steep, uphill, off-camber switchbacks on 4, and I heartily agreed. They do test your mettle as a rider. There's one there, that when approached from west to east (downhill), that I like to call the "Exit to the Eternal Rest STop" because it's blind, all you see is outer space and the road just sort of disappears down underneath you to the left. Great fun though, especially the 10th or 15th time you ride it.
After lunch we followed the previously-plotted route through the hinterlands of California, north toward CA88. Not being your ordinary Nancy-boy main-route riders, and especially since Ed got his VSTrom and outfitted it with gear designed to make it look like he is about to tackle the Dakar Rally, I had plotted a route to totally avoid the dreaded CA49 -- (for the unititiated, CA49 on Sunday is roughly equivalent to the seventh level of Hell, trafficwise.)
The route, for those of you interested enough to look at a map, was Avery-Sheep Ranch road to Sheep Ranch, Sheep Ranch Road to Railroad Flats Road to WeST Point, CA26 to Defender Grade, to Pioneer on CA88. Of course, I decided at WeST Point that we should take a right and explore a possibly "better" route back to CA88. So we had a nice 20 mile or so detour while we explored a couple of nice back roads and then stopped a guy who told us we couldn't get to 88 from there. So we went back to WeST Point and followed the huge sign that said "88 This Way!" stopping, of course, in WeST Point so Andre could get some more fuel in his R1.
After that, CA88 was a bit of an anti-climax, more Harley and car and truck passing. The only excitement came when I, now in the lead and completing a double-yellow pass of two cars at the late end of a passing zone, crested a little hill on the wrong side of the double yellow, and found myself looking straight at the front end of a parked CHP SUV in perfect position to radar me. I looked at my heads-up Garmin speedometer. Hmmm, 69 in a 55 zone and I've already decelerated about 5 mph since I saw him. I guess I'm toast. I went past him and expected to see the disco lights and smoking tire u-turns I've become so familiar with over the years, but wait, nothing is happening! ***? Why isn't he chasing this scofflaw old fat guy? He couldn't have missed my electric yellow Darien and my headlight modulator, could he? Apparently he could. Ed and Andre, who didn't make it past the two vehicles, said he had his head down in paperwork when they flew by him. So, I guess everyone gets lucky from time to time, even me. :-)
So, after lots more sweepers, illegal passes, and at least three more fuel stops for the R1 (just kidding about these, there really weren't that many) we parted ways at Woodfords, with me going to another run at Monitor Pass on the way home, and Ed and Andre heading back up to Reno/Sparks through Carson Valley and up 395.
I only passed 6 or 8 people illegally on the way up and down Monitor Pass, the traffic having subsided as the evening approached. One motorhome actually used a turnout for me, imagine that? I always thought that California people were immune to using turnouts, a practice that smacks of politeness.
At the junction of 89 and 395, a Harley was parked. Talked to the rider, who inquired of me as to whether I had spotted the rest of his party in my travels. Apparently he had gotten separated from his group, and you all know what that means to a Harley rider. Oooooooooooooo!!!! And he still had to make it to Sacramento, and it was after 6 p.m. I hadn't seen his group, so went on my merry way.
After a fillup at Topaz Lodge ($2.729) I headed back to lovely Smith Valley. About the time I was halfway up Jack Wright Pass, it started to rain, so my experience coming down the pass into the valley, in the rain, on asphalt laid this morning, was a bit scary to say the least. Don't you just love all those pretty colors the oil leaching out of the asphalt makes when it's wet?
Arrived home to two hungry and anxious dogs, three hungry horses, and a couple of Tanq/tonics.
A great ride with great friends. Life is good.
Don -- STOC 237