King City CA to the start of Route 66 and beyond

Got a bit of a late start from Day's Inn in King City Tuesday morning because I had to replace the right front running light on the bike. This is somewhat of a big deal because you have to remove a section of the fairing in order to be able to reach a hand in and remove and then replace the socket in which the bulb fits. Jesse, my Ottawa mechanic, had replaced the left light before I left and had said: "Yeah, I don't know why but the RT's (mine is a R1200RT) go through a lot of bulbs; I don't know why". He's right both have been replaced a number of times and it isn't getting any easier to do it.

On the road by 8:30, I headed down 101 to Pismo Beach, which is right on the coast, and then followed the Pacific Coastal Highway (Route 1) to Santa Barbara.  Along the way I passed some really large vineyards ( I mean vineyards bigger than wheat fields back home - in Eastern Canada that is), and big vegetable farms where workers, many wearing broad brimmed hats like the ones we often see on the field workers in China, in rows picking whatever crop was ready for market.  There have to be thousands of these individuals doing this kind of back breaking work so that we have inexpensive fresh produce on our grocery store shelves.

On this first picture you can see the clouds reaching down into the mountains of the Coastal Range. I rode through this cooling mist.

In Santa Barbara, a beautiful and very touristy ocean-side town, I stopped for lunch at the

My Mahi mahi  toasted sandwich with tomato, lettuce and fries, was excellent; and what made it special were the wasabi cream sauce that the waiter obligingly brought to me, even if it was usually served with another dish on the menu, and the toasted light sourdough bread. But not toasted in a toaster mind; but rather made perfect on the red hot elements of a stove or something. It brought to mind the taste of just-burnt-enough toast at camps many years ago.

I continued down the coast to the Santa Monica Pier where a nice lady took this picture of me with my feet in the Pacific Ocean and the pier behind me. The pier is the end of Route 66 for some, while for others, like me, it's the start of journey back home. I had traveled 6,900 kilometers since leaving home on July 7th and it was time to return before the Cascadia earthquake struck this region.

 After the obligatory walk on the pier I rode for 2 hours in stop-and-go expressway traffic to the Motel 6 in Baldwin Park which is somewhere in the middle of LA County which goes on forever, and then a lot more then that.  The locked gate to the parking area at the motel, the security camera above it, and the many police cruisers patrolling the neighborhood are all reflections of what people think about personal safety in these parts.

 This morning I found Route 66 and began following it.  what with realignments, closures and whatnot its not as easy as it seems. Sometimes the route is clearly marked, at others it's pretty much a guess. After a while on a clearly marked section I stopped at this wacky place. I had seen pictures of it in guide books before. There are hundreds of works, all made with steel trees with bottles placed on all the stems that extent from the trunk, and other stuff. Go ahead enlarge the pictures and see what you can pick out.

Route 66 is a very little used route. There are long sections where you're all alone for a long stretch; nothing coming, nothing following. Just me, my bike, and my thoughts.

And some iconic landmarks, like the Ludlow Cafe where I had lunch.

Further down the road I saw these dust devils in the distance. They were many. I wondered how big they got and how powerful they might be. Enough to pick up a Guy and his bike? Didn't happen, so I don't know. Maybe a prairie friend can answer?

Between Bagdad and Amboy I stopped at the Amboy Crater, a National Natural Landmark formed by a volcano that last erupted some 10,000 years ago. Oh, I forgot to mention it was 42.5 celsius at this point.

And so the day ended in Needles California at the eastern edge of the state. Tomorrow the adventure continues as I cross the Colorado River into Arizona.

Over the top from Nevada to the California coast

Yesterday I rode 525k from Ely, Nevada to Bridgeport, California.  As I left early there was very little traffic on Hwy. 6 so I admired the beauty of the sparse scenery while listening to Bach through my headset.  I quite literally had the road to myself; I measured one stretch of 22k without meeting another vehicle.  At one point I stopped, stood in the middle of the road and took the following two pictures; the first pointing west and the second east. In both pictures the road runs off to a point on the horizon at the foot of another mountain range.

I arrived at the Brideport Inn in the middle of the afternoon and walked the main street on which one finds this beautiful court house building.

 The Inn which was built in 1877 has been modernized somewhat, though the rooms on the second floor where I stayed share baths; that is, all the 12 rooms share 2 bathrooms at the end of the hallway. The inn's dining room was a disappointment.  I had thought that the Prime Rib Roast, the house specialty, would be a sure bet. Boy, was I wrong. It was tasteless, tough and expensive. Even the garlic bread that was brought at the same time as the entrée was bad; white sliced bread smeared with butter and garlic and grilled on the hot plate. I skipped desert.

I left Bridgeport at 6:40 this morning and followed 395 and 108 up and over Yosemite National Park. The temperature was 9 celsius. 108 is a steep winding road with grades of over 26 degrees at places. As I made a sharp right climbing hairpin turn nearing the 9,628 foot high point of the Sonora Pass, I caught four deer running alongside the road in the corner of my eye. Funny how you can see things when you're riding at 15 kph. Needless to say the views from up there are very impressive.

 This is a picture of a man-made reservoir. You can see the dam in the top left corner.

As I rode down toward the interior of California the temperature rose steadily and reached 39 degrees.  I passed huge orchards and farms where, at one point, a large number of field workers were picking a crop of some kind. How they could do that work under the blazing sun is beyond me.

Finally I arrived in Monterey where I stopped to walk out onto the fisherman's wharf where I saw these two characters waiting for a handout.

These interesting barrows are used to move the catch from the fishing boats to the warehouses on the wharf.

And those specks that you can hardly make out in the next picture are fishing vessels just off the coast about half way between Monterey Bay and Big Sur.

All and all another long but very interesting day of riding. After 611k I arrived at the Days Inn in King City. The last part of today's ride took me inland from Carmel by the Sea through the Carmel Valley to Greenfield.  A road that went from two-lane perfection to winding narrow somewhat paved path and back again. At the Greenfield end of what is called Route G16 I rode by extensive vineyards that dotted the valley on either side of the road and that stood out dark green against the otherwise yellow parched landscape.

Salt Lake City and on to Ely Nevada

Hello all!

On Thursday I rode mainly on US 91 from Idaho Falls to Salt Lake City. This highway which is roughly parallel to Interstate 15 goes through a number of small cities and towns and, as such, is a much more interesting ride. A distinct advantage of the smaller highways is that they allow you to admire the countryside at a more leisurely pace. I arrived early enough at my hotel in Salt Lake City to be able to walk to Temple Square and visit the site.  There were many young clean cut Mormons walking around in pairs prepared to stop and chat with visitors and, of course explain their religion.

After my first tour I. had dinner at a place called the Blue Lemon. The seared salmon with rice and green beans was surprisingly good for what was essentially a cafeteria.  Afterwards I was able to attend the dress rehearsal of the next nights concert by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in their performance hall that seats 21,000. The singing was beautiful; perfect pitch and diction, not easy for 200+ voices. I counted nearly 30 tenors.

Friday morning I went for a long walk to a couple of shopping areas, the Trolley Yards and the Gateway complex, and to the State Capital Building. The sign on State Street just before the capital building is wrong. A stop at this site and a free guided tour is essential. The young guide, who admitted that she was a communications major from Idaho, knew all there was to know about the architecture and history of the building. The other guests in my group filled in the blanks on the political questions when necessary.

This is a picture of the 91 member legislature that only sits for 45 days a year.

And this is a Canadian fur trapper who was instrumental in mapping the northern part of the state.

I spent the rest of day walking around the city core. I had an all-you-can-eat dinner at Simply Sushi, an excellent restaurant.

This morning I left Salt Lake City before 8:00 and headed west out of Utah.  I stopped at a rest stop and found this coke dispenser protected against the elements, the criminal elements that is. I wonder how many machines were stolen before someone decided that a steel cage was required.

 The vistas are unbelievable. Here is one at the rest stop just off I-80.

Be warned, there are dangers in these here parts!

As one drives through the Great Salt Lake dessert scenes like this are on both sides of highway, en every once in while tire tracks lead off into the distance.

And then on the right, the actual salt flats appear, and they extend for miles and miles to the Silver Island Mountains to the west.

I rode my motorcycle to the end of the side road at the Bonneville Speedway. There is nothing but the sign behind me in the picture at this point. But this is where cars, trucks, bikes and all kinds of vehicles ride off on the salt flats and attempt to establish their own personal fastest mile on the 10 mile marked track. I passed; being there was enough for me.

Not having had breakfast yet I stopped for coffee and a breakfast sandwich at a restaurant that had the following sign in the washroom. And here I was going to wash my own hands. Are they worried that customers will not do a good job of it themselves so they insist that employees do it for them.

Sorry je digress from the trip; but to make it up here are a few more pictures, by popular request.

I particularly liked this steel sculpture of a pony express rider at a rest stop located where riders would, in less than 2 minutes change horses. I found out that the commercial venture that was the Pony Express was a short-lived and financially unsuccessful venture. It would be replaced in 18 months by the telegraph.

I arrived at Motel 6 in Ely, pronounced "Eelee", in mid-afternoon and spent the rest of the day wandering around the small town and buying some stuff for dinner at the local grocery store. Tomorrow its off to California, not quite to the coast but closer.

Some catching up to do

Sorry for not having posted anything since Glendive Montana.  I have been having some website, search engine, etc. problems.

On Monday I rode 553 kilometres under brilliant sunshine.  I stopped for a nice egg, ham and cheese sandwich and a latte at the Main Street Grind in Miles City Montana, and then continued to Red Lodge where I stayed 2 nights. Having arrived early enough to do a littler bit of exploring I rode up about two thirds of the Beartooth pass to an observation point from which you can look into the canyons below, and the snowfields in the higher still elevations.

This is the aptly named Rock Creek along which the road fro Red Lodge to Beartooth pass runs:

Dinner on Monday (and as it turns out on Tuesday as well) was at the Bridge Creek Back Country Kitchen and Wine Bar was very good. It being a wine bar and all, I had a glass of California chardonnay to accompany the excellent Oregon sea bass that was served on a lovely remoulade of red pepper, tomato, zuchini, squash, garlic, and good olive oil, topped with shaved fennel.

Tuesday was by far the longest riding day so far; actually it's the longest riding day I have ever had. I left Red Lodge at 8:15, destination Yellowstone Park and Old Faithful, But first I had to ride all the way to the top of the Beartooth pass, 10,947'. From a cozy 18.5 degrees when I left, the temperature dropped to 8 degrees at the top; there just wasn't enough layers to add to offset the chill. But the view was well worth it and, as expected the temperature rose again as I made my way to the northeast entrance of the park.

And what a park it is; all kinds of animals, birds, trees, flowers, and people. About the animals, there are bison, herds of bison, bison close to the road, bison crossing the road or walking down the shoulder of the road. And what does a bison do when he, or she (I couldn't tell which) walks down the road? Well, pretty much anything it wants to, and the traffic stops and many pictures are taken. And the caribou munch and have a rest on the lawn in front of the visitor centre, much like they do in Banff.  And when a particularly large elk, I think, decides to cross from a pond on one side of the main road to the other side well, that`s no problem because he has his very own forest ranger to stop traffic and to move aside the ever present camera wielding park visitors. Do you think each elk has his own forest ranger, or is it the other way around?

Old Faithful is! If you miss one eruption, you just have to wait, along with the many hundreds of visitors for the next show in about an hour; and it is an impressive display as the following picture shows.

Old Faithful is! If you miss one eruption, you just have to wait, along with the many hundreds of visitors for the next show in about an hour; and it is an impressive display as the following picture shows.  There is a steady stream of cars and buses filling and emptying out the various parking areas on the site, and there is a hotel, interpretation centre, souvenir shop and an ice cream boutique that was doing a brisk trade on the hot late Tuesday afternoon.

I left Old Faithful at about 5:30 and rode out of Yellowstone by the east entrance.  This brought me back to Red Lodge via Cody Wyoming.  The road from the entrance to Cody, which snakes its way along the Shoshone river is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. The red-orange rock formations that stretch on for miles and miles are unbelievably jaw dropping impressive. As the light faded I rode into Red Lodge for a late dinner.


Today I rode to Idaho Falls.This is a view of the landscape, large ranches with cattle grazing on rolling hills.

 At one point on I-90 I stopped at a rest stop thinking I'd better put on my rain gear because the clouds were beginning to look threatening. A guide who had been following me for some time on his motorcycle pulled in beside me, introduced himself and said: "Great to see another BMW on the road out here."  He was from the east coast and had been on this ride since May 11.  We talked for a while and ventured, before he left, that he didn't think I'd need my rain gear, So I hopped back on the bike and rode off...not for long.  The drops started a couple of miles further; so I stopped again and donned my rain suit. I rode between, around and through showers. I can take rain, even heavy at times, I can take wind, even gusty blasts. I don't mind the odd bolt of lightning and thunder close by. But when they all come together and are joined by hail pelting on my helmet, well, that's too much, even for me. So I stopped for coffee and kinda let that particular storm cell go by. The rest of the ride to Idaho Falls was anticlimactic, just a few heavy showers, wind and lightning.

As a reward for making it here, I treated myself to dinner at the Sandpiper Restaurant, "Voted best steak and seafood restaurant by the people of Idaho Falls."  And if my meal, sesame crusted ahi tuna with wasabi, soya sauce, pickled ginger, and a baked Idaho potato with all the trimmings, is any guide, the fine folk of Idaho Falls know what they're voting for when it comes to restaurants.  I've never had a better piece of fish, or potato for that matter. And to top it all off, one of the waiters went around the room playing requests on his ukelele. Total price of the meal, including a drink, tip and entertainment: $36!!

Oil and Gas

 Yesterday I stopped at they geographical centre of North America. According to a US Geological Service statement in January 1931 it is located just off Highway 2 in Rugby, Pierce County, North Dakota; quite convenient. The 21 foot stone pyramid-shaped cairn pictured below, built with the help of the Boy Scouts, marks the spot.

There's still a lot of farming in North Dakota with huge fields of green wheat and corn, yellow canola, and blue flax that can in the distance be mistaken for lakes with shimmering water, stretching out on either side of Highway 2. There are also many birds, no doubt attracted by the free lunches in the fields and the thousands of prairie potholes, ponds of various shapes and sizes, that dot the landscapes.

But oil is the modern story here, You're riding along and suddenly, next to the highway you see the first of what will be many, many pumpjacks. And you think, yes, this is North Dakota, a large section of which sits on the Bekken formation that also crosses over into Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and neighbouring Montana. The formation is estimated to contain some 7.4 billion barrels of oil and a staggering amount of shale gas.  Since the discovery of the Pearsall Oil Field in 2006 and the introduction of tracking and horizontal drilling, North Dakota has become the second oil-producing state after Texas; and its per capita income is well above the national average.  The signs of increased activity and wealth are everywhere along Highway 2, particularly in Mountrail County. There are hotels, motels, and large trailer parks and other accommodation complexes for the thousands of workers who have come here to make their fortune. There are more pickup trucks, most of them new and big, than there are cars; and the highway, mostly divided 4-lane stretches, is in fantastic shape. I guess that's what comes from a $1 billion annual state government surplus.

I also remembered that it's oil from the Bekken field that exploded when 77 tanker rail cars rolled into the center of Lac Mégantic a little over 2 years ago on July 6, 2013. No fault of anyone here, but still a tragedy. 



I had brunch at Kroll's Diner, a shiny stainless steel affair in Minot. The country omelet with hashbrowns, rye toast and coffee were plentiful and good; enough to sustain me till I arrived at the Riverside Inn in Glendive Montana.

All and all another nice day of riding and discovery. Another 557 kilometres on the odometer.

.

To Duluth Minnesota and Devils Lake North Dakota

Two great days of riding with a few adventures I will recall for you.

On Friday morning, after a few sips of very bad coffee at the Budget Host Inn in Manistique, Michigan, I rode off on Highway 2 along the north shore of Lake Michigan through Gladstone.  Had breakfast at Barb's Café in Florence Wisconsin.

And shortly after this was where the first adventure started.  I hadn't been paying too much (any) attention to my gas gauge so when the low fuel warning came up on my GPS unit I began to check for gas stations in the vicinity. Well, there weren't any real close but, what the heck, I figured I could get the nearest one that Lucy (you remember Lucy, she's the lady that lives in the Zumo 660 GPS on my bike), was suggesting, As the miles piled on, I began to think that maybe we might not make it,  But, after two detours down some admittedly nice side roads and having dodged 2 herds of deer (well ok, a mother and her baby, and a group of 4, what looked like teenagers) crossing the highway without looking either way before they leapt in front of me, I arrived at the promised BP station in Waucedah. By then the GPS was telling me I was out of fuel, and the bike's own 'low on fuel' warning was flashing. Note to self; self, check fuel gauge, OFTEN.

The rest of the ride to Duluth was uneventful.  At one point I rode through the Ottawa National Forest, a significant chunk of real estate.



The view of the southern tip of Lake Superior from Ashland Wisconsin is impressive, as is the part of the shoreline one sees east of Duluth.  As I arrived there early I was able to settle into my room at the Downtown Duluth Hotel and then go for a nice walk along the waterfront which has been made into a beautiful urban park. I had an interesting cold fish (trout) salad and a Superior Beer at Fitger's Brewhouse, which is in a huge restored warehouse on the lakefront that also houses many stores, a hotel and restaurants.


I left Duluth this morning before 8 and continued my journey west on Highway 2.  Traffic was light, the temperature around 25, and I arrived in Devils Lake at around 3:00 having crossed all of Minnesota and a good chunk of North Dakota,  While the first stretch of Highway 2 is through small forests, the stretch from Bemidji Minnesota to Devils Lake is very flat farmland so you can see a long way. 

2015 Edition of Retirement Rides

Hello readers,

Started out from home at 7:00 am on Tuesday, July 2nd, There was a slightly overcast sky and the temperature was in the low 20's. I made really good time from Ottawa to Mattawan, but from there to Sudbury it wasn't so great. It began to rain, lightly at first, but quite heavily afterward; so much so that I had to pull off the highway at a lookout onto Lake Nipissing halfway between North Bay and Sturgeon Falls, With nowhere to get out of the rain, I stood under a tree, called home, and waited until the worst of the rain had passed. 

I made my way to lunch at the Sturgeon Tim Horton under a steady drizzle. The rain stopped and I rode to my older brother Gilles' house in Garson where a fine dinner was served. Afterwards I was off to my other brother Jean-Yves' house where I was welcomed for a two night stay. I took advantage of the layover in Sudbury to ride around the city a bit and to visit with an old and dear cousin, Eymard and his wife Lorraine.  Eymard is awaiting the results of tests on lumps in his throat. We all hope that, whatever it is, he will be able to be treated. I have known him for my whole life so we have many amusing stories to share. I can only hope he's around for many more years so we have opportunities to do so.

Early to bed after a great meal with Jean-Yves and his wife Candace, and a 7:00 am start for the ride from Sudbury to Manistique Michigan on the shore of Lake Superior.  I find it interesting to see the reaction of the American border officials when I tell them where I'm going. There's a combination of envy, disbelief and suspicion when I say I'm riding solo to the West Coast. The guy today looked like he was thinking: ¨this guy is crazy, but probably harmless". So he waved me through with a "drive carefully".  I will