Two old dudes sitting on a rock with their back to the Pacific Ocean.
This is a photo of The Bixby Bridge, which is the most photographed
bridge in California. It was build in 1932, and was the longest bridge (714') on the
Pacific Coast Highway. It is located 120 miles south of San Francisco.
This is a photo of Doug riding north on the Pacific Coast Highway,
somewhere well south of San Francisco.
Ditto.
This was a stop at one of the "turnouts" along the highway. This
stop afforded a panoramic view of the ocean, and allowed one to look
back toward the mountains and the highway, as I did in the photo below.
The highway can be seen in the top half of the photo. Note that there is no guard rails,
which was common. I did not look it up, but from a causal observation it
looked lack at least half of the highway did not have guardrails.
Day eleven. All is well. Overnight in Santa Rosa, California.
The morning started in Lompoc, California, 337 miles south of tonight's overnight stop in Santa Rosa, California (Pop. 170,000). As we departed Lompoc it was 59 degrees with a very fine mist. (Rain?) Since it was so cool and since there was a light mist we put on our rain gear. The temperature did not increase above 63 degrees along our route all day, and we kept our rain gear on throughout the day.
We stayed near the coast on California Highway One, also known as the Pacific Coast Highway for the entire day. As can be seen in all of the photos with this post there were clouds all along the way, high clouds, shrouding the sun, but none of the clouds had an intent of producing rain, and they didn't.
As our day started we rode inland slightly and passed through a highway lined with eucalyptus trees. Their pungent aroma engulfed the bikes as we rode and mixed with the cool morning air. When the treed tunnels stopped the cultivation began. At first we saw the strawberry fields with various stages of strawberry production at work. Some fields were partially covered with new seedlings, getting extra water nourishment. Yet others were getting beds and prepared, while still others had workers bending, kneeling, and getting close to the plants to pick the berries by hand. Along the ends of the rows were strawberry crates, some filled, some empty, stacked two stories high.
The smell of eucalyptus seemed pleasing only for a short while. Where the strawberries were being harvested the sweet smell of berries found us as we rode along, and we hated to leave the area, and that wonderful strawberry aroma.
We rode through one small town after another in this farm belt as we continued north. All of the towns had beautiful names that conjured up in my imagination an earlier time in history of the area. There were names like Santa Maria, Casmalia, Guadalupe, and Arroyo Grande. And lastly before we again started riding the coast line was Morro Bay.
After Morro Bay, California Highway One was pinned between the mountains to the east, and on the west, a high ledge above the waters below. Yesterday I used the word "spectacular" to describe the lower portion of the coast highway. I don't know how to exceed that, but certainly the views, the road, and all the breath taking scenery today exceeded the spectacular.
In some ways it was like riding "The Dragon" in The Great Smokey Mountains, but with the unforgiving fall to the ocean on one side, and the side of the mountain on the other. The curves were often equally as challenging, and this was made more difficult because the curves on the coast highway are not banked.
Add a cold wind blowing in from the Pacific, blowing in off a cold (55 degrees) churning surf, which produced an air temperature of 59-63 degrees, and you have the ingredients of a great place to ride a motorcycle.
I should mention in passing (which we did - We didn't stop.) that The Hearst Castle is along this route of travel. It is "one" of the former homes of William Randolph Hearst, who died in 1951. The Hearst Castle is located just off Hwy One, 245 miles from both Los Angeles and San Francisco. During its heyday, in the 1920's and 1930's, all of the 'A' list superstars of the day were either guests or wanted to be guests. It was the "in" place to go on the west coast. Today it is a museum and tourist attraction. Getting to the mansion is accomplished by getting a ticket at a staging area, and then taking a bus from there to the mansion and back. Minimum time commitment - four hours. We passed on the opportunity,
The City of San Francisco sets along our intended route of the coast highway, and we debated the best way to get though the city without the required delays from traffic. Ultimately we decided to make a longer day of it and ride on through, braving the rush hour traffic as we found ourselves within the metropolitan area around 6:30. We made the right choice, and missed the heaviest of the traffic.
As our riding day was nearing an end we rode across the spectacular (Am I overusing that word?) Golden Gate Bridge. The city of San Francisco collects tolls on crossing the bridge ($7.00) only when going southbound. They do the same thing when crossing the Dover River Bridge when entering Philadelphia from New Jersey. If you think about it that makes sense. But, hooray for us. We will not be going back across, so I guess someone else will pay our share.
Riding across the bridge on a motorcycle lets you feel the cold, gusty winds from the bay. It made me appreciated and marvel at the brave men who toiled to build this marvelous working monument.
Our ride across the bridge was a nice achievement for a great day riding a motorcycle.
Another good day.
No comments:
Post a Comment