Touring on a ST1300 through California:
Mountains, Deserts, Beaches, Concerts & a Blues Bar in LA
by Lance Warren - April 2010
The dark cone of a volcano protruded through the layers of snow and ice of the expansive wilderness of miles and miles of Icelandic landscape. Several hours later following the immensity of Greenland and Canada, the Boeing 747 touched down at San Francisco International at 2:30 on Good Friday afternoon.
Scott Mindich acknowledged the email I sent 16 hours earlier to California Motorcycle Adventures, a half hour before leaving Huddersfield for Manchester Airport at 3 in the morning. “If you hadn’t sent it I wouldn’t have been here. I got you guys down for arriving tomorrow, Saturday!”
Come 5:30, the Honda ST 1300 was loaded; tent, sleeping bags and all. The advice was to forget Stevens Canyon Road and Big Bear Road to Santa Cruz. “Take the 101 for 60 miles, then the 156 west or you won’t get to the concert in Carmel tonight.” Good call Scott. We arrived at the Sunset Centre with half an hour to spare having ridden through driving rain giving our all weather gear an immediate test. Sue was holding on for dear life, as we were often in the outside lane at 80mph till the rain started. Nevertheless, she was impressed with how I adapted to opposite side of the road riding.
“Like your style sir, and all the way from England too,” said the attendant, directing me to drop off the bike gear. Meanwhile Sue asked to borrow a mobile to inform the hotel we wouldn’t be there till late at night. No problem came the reply, the key will be under the door mat outside your room.
Inside the pointed arched roof of the auditorium, we enjoyed Leo Kottke’s consummate guitar playing and dry humour. But Los Lobos really got the party going, and what appeared to be a respectable, middle aged and conservative audience, eventually were off their feet filling the isles dancing their socks off.
Next morning saw blue skies over the sea. After a morning tour round the scenic bay area of Carmel and Monterey, and a hearty breakfast sat outside a little Italian bistro, I was getting more used to handling the bike. Down the Cabrillo Highway, and a little impatient doing 45 mph, I passed several cars and one motorbike in an overtaking move on an unusually long straight for this spectacular windy coastal road.
We stopped to walk up to a waterfall, where Sue made it clear that was too fast and she wanted to enjoy the views, and film the journey in relaxed mode, especially driving south on the outside of the road. Ok I thought, as the motorbike we’d just overtaken 20 minutes ago sped past, I guess she’s right. We’re on day 2 and I don’t want to spoil the holiday.
The highway flattened out as Morro Rock came into view. With the road still hugging the coast, we passed vultures feeding on a dead seal. It was close to sunset as we stopped at the beach for a walk, and decision time at Cayucos where that old style saloon bar looked interesting. We turned back, found a motel, and at the friendly saloon bar, got treated to a night of good sounds and dancing from a quality rock covers band.
In the morning we found the Bay Café in Morro Rock State Park for breakfast before heading out along the Los Osos Valley Road back onto the Cabrillo. Through Pismo Beach and Guadalupe with its forgotten 50s look and stucco buildings, we rode at 80mph along side an impressive silver diesel locomotive pulling bilevel coaches.
Continuing south through Lompoc, the Cabrillo merges with the 101 through a narrow gorge in the Gaviota State Park which brings you out on the coast looking out across the Santa Barbara Basin. (see Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate speeding along in his little open top Alfa desperately trying to get to the wedding of his beloved before she ties the knot). Late afternoon, two pelicans flying along side us on the Gaviota coast, we take an exit and roll into Santa Barbara through the perfume of citrus groves & down Shoreline Drive lined with palms via the beach and harbour area.I notice three or four rigs far out in the basin. I also spy a nice looking hotel with veranda on the sea front before heading up into town and find an open air, but sun canopy covered eat house. Great service and ambience as the rain starts to fall hard on the awnings, and the circular stone open fire adds some extra warmth. We check out the Ala Mar Motel and get an extension flat round the back with its own Jacuzzi for $80 all in!
What a relaxing start to Day 3. We thanked Mondo for the room, and spent the next two hours discussing Jung’s theory of ‘meaningful synchronicity’, capitalism, ecology, The Gaia Theory, consumer society and theories of sustainable development! Looking out from the veranda high mountains appeared out of the sea to the south west. Mondo explained not many people know about the Channel Islands out there.
“And the rigs, oil or gas?” I ask. “Yeah, we’re not too happy about those. When I was a kid, oil sometimes used to wash up on the beach, but it’s a lot better now.”
Two weeks later I would be watching CNN News about a similar oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, exploding and killing 11 workers. Who could have expected this story to be running over 2 months later, and the resultant environmental disaster still developing as I write!
We left via Cabrillo Boulevard in hot sun, under the 101, through more citrus groves onto the Foothill Road to Casitas Pass and Lake. We were glad we hadn’t camped here as planned. It had been a rain soaked night and damp morning.
At Ojai, ( pronounced ‘Ohi’ after the Indian tribe), we found the school established by Krishnamurti and left a film of ‘Far From The Madding Crowd’, dramatised by the kids from Castle Hill Special School back home in Huddersfield where Sue works as a video technician.
We then had our first real taste of busy highways and freeways to LA all the while surrounded by 3000 to 4000 foot Santa Paula Ridge, Baly, Oak Ridge, and the Angeles National Forest to the east. We had planned to rendezvous in Sherman Oaks and join up with Sugaray at Cozy’s Bar for the Monday night blues jam. Walking a couple of miles up Ventura Boulevard, I met the big man, who assured me he’d find somebody to help me out with a guitar. Sugaray introduced me to Sam who lent me his Strat, and the evening lived up to all my expectations and more with the best music night of my life. The friendliest and most good natured people you could wish to meet.
The route out of LA took us east past the Hollywood Theme Park. Though the weather was ideal, Road Closed signs appeared at the head of the Angeles Crescent Highway! We carried on and met barriers easily past on one side. A fellow biker volunteered to go up and check it for sure, while we worked out an alternative to pick up our route 60 miles south west across the Mojave Freeway at Cajon.
Sure enough, fires the previous autumn destroyed so much forest, the mountain slopes had destabilised causing landslides. A shame because this Crescent Highway is well used by bikers for good reasons; climbing up to an elevation above 7000 feet, it has 50 miles of great road with spectacular views.
A very blustery 201 Freeway took us to the edge of the San Bernardino National Forest at Cajon, which then climbed up to the Rim of the World Highway at 7000 feet to Big Bear Lake. Beautiful weather and panoramic views across the Moreno Valley, but we needed our all weather gear to keep off the freezing cold as we passed the busy Snow Valley Ski Area.
We took the quiet North Shore Drive, and fortunately found the Moose Club at Fawnskin open and welcoming, because this area is pretty quiet at this time of year. Temporary membership saw us sat at the bar, beers bought by kindly club members, and free food offered plus somewhere to stay for the night.
Coffee and goodbyes in the morning at the club saw us on our way heading for high desert. From the vantage point at Cushenbury Summit, we looked north and east 200 miles towards Las Vegas across the wide expanse of the Mojave Desert. This country was beginning to feel very big.
We dropped down to Old Woman’s Spring Road at 3000 feet, turned east to Yucca Valley, and through the increasing heat of the afternoon rode to the Joshua Tree National Park. After delicious food at the Country Kitchen, Monument Road took us out the valley bottom and onto an arid, tree filled 4000 foot plateau interspersed with rocky outcrops. As the sun set at Jumbo Rocks, we could still make out the snow capped peaks we had left 50 miles to the west.
Sitting at the campground we enjoyed a blazing fire with wood supplied from the boot of Michelle’s car. Having travelled the world, she still found this to be one of her favourite areas to visit. Without the fire the night temperature dropped cold, but we were lucky to wake to a cloudless sunrise and set off for Hidden Valley. This wind carved box canyon, ideal for a concealed corral, was used for decades by the Mchaney Gang cattle rustlers, till overgrazing and a more arid climate, miners and lawmen brought change.
The early start for us was necessary as our route took us back to Jumbo Rocks, down to Twenty Nine Palms, and 200 miles north east, across the Mojave Desert to Nevada and Las Vegas. Passing a long expanse of mined salt pans we found Roy’s Café on Route 66, the 250 foot Amboy Crater a mile west protruded from the surrounding larva field. We were told it was a relatively modern volcanic vent formed over the last 2000 years, and a good mile and a half to walk to, plus a climb up its slopes. With the early afternoon temperature now in the 80’s, I downed two bottles of root beer, filled up the tank, and we headed east and north across Freeway 40, into the expanse of the desert.
(To be continued...)
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