Connecticut to California – Day 13 – August 24, 2000

I’m here!  Here being Valkyries in the Valley – Mariposa, California. – Greeted with cheers and clapping by Oz and a few of the others – it feels good to be able to take a little rest from the road.

But again today, it was a day of contrasts.  Up at 7:00 this morning – the temperature about 50 degrees – sitting on the swing on the front porch sipping coffee in the quiet freshness of the morning.  No one is stirring – yet - and it seems as though I have to world to myself.

I take my coffee with me and walk through the campground and, knowing today is going to be my last day at the Pacific Ocean, I walk up on the beach and just sit for a while – alone – and quiet.  I stare mindlessly out across the water – remembering and savoring all of the experiences of the last 12 days.  I almost don’t want to leave this place.  I know that today is the day that I will change direction.  Since I left home, I have been looking for route signs that say “west.”  Today, for the first time – I will have to take the other road – the one that says “east.”

I am grateful that the fog is hanging about 500 feet – so I can see the water.  It is still pretty cold riding, but I am well dressed and begin the final leg of my journey down the Pacific Coast Highway.  However, about 30 miles down the coast, the fog sinks to ground level and the forward visibility is about 300 yards.  I am disappointed that I will – once again – miss some of this fabulous coastline – but I am content to just scrape the pegs in the incredibly sharp turns.

I pull off for a sip of coffee and within a few minutes a car pulls over right behind me.  A guy gets out and says, “Hey mate!”  I immediately get introduced to Don and Olive from Australia – who tell me they saw me on the road – up north yesterday.  Turns out they own a Gold Wing – but their very good friend in Australia owns a yellow Valkyrie Tourer – according to Don – his friend likes his Valk so much that he has a full length mirror in his garage – so that when you look at the bike – you actually see two Valkyries.

They had wanted to tour by motorcycle – but found it impossible to make arrangements from Australia.  We chatted about riding there and here – I gave them the website address – and my email address – for their friend back home.  They will be home Sunday night – if any of their friends happen to be reading this.

About an hour down the road – I see what appears to be a tidal pool – where the fog has cleared a little.  I pull off – thinking this may be my last opportunity to see the water.  Looking down off the cliff I see what appears to be rocks just barely sticking out of the water – but soon notice that the rocks move below the surface – periodically.  Upon closer examination – I find that I have stumbled upon a colony of sea lions – playing in the pool.  I remember the hawk I saw just as I was leaving the campground – I don’t know why I stopped here – I silently thank the hawk.

I think I must have just stood there on the cliff for an hour – watching the sea lions.  There are birds aplenty – a dolphin comes to play – he is completely white – and clearly visible in the calm and beautiful green waters of the pool.  A fish hawk flies over – and I smile.

A short while down the road – I see that the pool is really where the Russian River flows into the ocean.  A single canoe is on the river – now shrouded once again in fog – and that would be the end of my love affair with the Pacific Ocean.

Just beyond Bodega Bay it is time for me to turn east and start racking up some serious miles if I want to get to Mariposa today.  I have dawdled too long with the creatures.

As I approach 101 again it is time to undress – nothing obscene – but the temperature has risen from 50 degrees on the coast to 90 degrees – just a few miles inland.  I strip off the cold riding gear – and get out the sunscreen and lip balm – I can see that it is going to get even hotter as I approach San Francisco.

Route 101 is a freeway – at this point and I get ready for some serious California Freeway riding.  Within the first five miles, I am nearly wiped out by cars changing lanes – suddenly – and with no signals.  I decide that I have gotten lazy riding the back roads of America – so I had better ratchet up my attention level if I am going to survive this adventure.  I briefly long for those stretches of Interstate in Montana that have livestock grates at every on ramp – preferring to deal with cattle on the road any day – compared to what I am seeing now.

I cross the bay on the Richmond-San Raphael Bridge – passing just north of San Quentin.  I’m rolling through here about 1:00 p.m. – I can’t imagine what the traffic will be during rush hour tonight.  Just beyond the bridge, I am visited by another hawk – it seems they know that I am here.

I am through Oakland on 580 and heading seriously east – now.  Just outside of Livermore I am captivated by the windmill farms on the ridge harnessing the wind to generate electricity.  There must be hundreds of them – some are turning –others are not – and I wonder why.

As I pass north of Modesto on 120 it looks like Florida to me in many ways.  The vineyards and the almond groves are different, of course, but the vegetables being grown in beds under plastic remind me of a time many years ago when I used to deliver diesel fuel to run the irrigation pumps that flood the fields.  These fields and groves are graded with precision – so that an inch or so of water can be pumped into the field and will spread evenly across it.  There are vineyards along the highway – and now I am following grape trucks instead of logging trucks – and I wonder if grapes can escape from these trucks like bark does from the logging trucks.

Route 49 into Mariposa is a peg-scraping dream.  I am running on fumes – I really didn’t notice how deserted this stretch of road is – so I am coasting down the side of the mountain and fill up at the station across the street from the Miner’s Inn.

I missed the wedding today – Valkcabbie got married here – but we had a parade through town – we put the happy couple at the head of the line and made an awful lot of noise going through town – the locals seemed to be good natured about it and came out on the sidewalks to wave.

Frankly, it feels good to be able to sleep in the same bed for three nights.  Met a lot of good folks – some rode just a few miles to get here – others rode a lot of miles to get here – but it just doesn’t matter – we all got here – and we all share the joy of riding – be it near or far. 

Tomorrow morning I am going to sleep in – there will be no alarm – I don’t have to be on the road to go anywhere – until Sunday morning.  Meanwhile I am going to enjoy the company of a great group of guys – and enjoy riding Yosemite.

The bike trip meter says 294.5 the Garmin III+ trip meter says 300.4 and I say Goodnight – and thank you to the hawks - from Mariposa, California.

Connecticut Yankee in Yosemite Valley- the Trek
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