I headed South on the Hwy 1 for a while, it was gorgeous as always.
Unfortunately part of the highway was damaged by erosion and closed off. Luckily I rode it last year and since I was blasting all the way to San Diego, the freeway was probably a better idea anyway.
San Diego was an exciting stop on my trip. I had been talking online to a friend-of-friends for a while and was finally going to get to meet her.
Snapped a quick picture of the odometer in Salida after gassing up.
I had to backtrack over Monarch Pass and didn’t take pictures of the second pass. I guess it was because I started with the mindset I was going to make 1,000 miles in one day, I felt I just had to GO GO GO. Continue reading
I don’t know what to say about the PCH that hasn’t already been said. The road winds along the cliff edge so perfectly. The views are so entrancing it’s hard to make yourself stop and take pictures, most of the time you just ride along with your mouth dropped open, mystified by the sheer beauty of it all.
The Zeb with the ocean and a field of wildflowers
I got up the next morning and used the gps on my new phone to find Alice’s Restaurant. I was suspicious when it said it was only 15 minutes away, but somehow decided to blindly follow technology. 15 minutes later I arrived at Alice’s -Cafe- in the middle of San Francisco. I googled Alice’s Restaurant on my phone to get the real address…which was another 45 minutes away. I called Dwayne to let him know what happened and hit the highway South to the correct destination.
I while later I felt moisture on my leg and smelled fuel. I pulled over.
DAMMIT. I thought I just paid to get this fixed?! Continue reading
The coast proved to be much cooler…too cool really and quite wet, but the fog was gorgeous.
I headed inland through Portland, which seemed to me an overwhelming network of highways, interstates and horrendous traffic. The interstate was backed up for miles. I patiently sat in traffic and duck walked the bike along inch by inch while contemplating the risks and benefits of lane splitting in a state where it was illegal. A group of guys in a truck with a dirt bike in the back and Fox logo decals on the windows gave me a thumbs up as they inched by.
Then my bike began to overheat.
I pulled off the road and let it sit for a few minutes, but it was scorching hot and the traffic still wasn’t moving. As I was debating my next move, an older couple on a Goldwing rolled up next to me. I explained my dilemma and they convinced me to follow them up the side around traffic. “Don’t worry.” the man said “If we get pulled over, I’ll talk our way out of it!” and off we went, passing the cars inching along the tarmac. The previously friendly truck people all gave me the finger as we chugged past. “But it was overheating!” I pleaded apologetically. Oh well.
Eventually we were freed from the jam and I made a beeline for Eugene, Oregon where an old friend had moved for grad school. He kindly let me crash his couch for a couple nights and took me out around the town.
They have an amazing bakery there called Voodoo Donut, where they make all kinds of crazy confections.