The campground in Big Basin Redwoods was very quiet and the night got very dark. The tree canopy was probably covering 80% of the sky so even though the moon was bright it had little effect. I awoke before 6 AM and started to get packed and then fed the shower with a dollar and enjoyed four minutes of warm water. The camp was very peaceful and I made as little noise as possible so as not to disturb the rest of the world around me.
I fired up the bike and made my way back towards Boulder Creek. I enjoyed the winding, well banked, road until I hit the first of the morning commuters. A surprising number of people go into Silicon Valley every day. When we moved to this area in the nineties we thought it would be cool to live up here but the 45 mile commute on the corkscrew road would get old fast I imagine.
It dawned on me to stop in Scotts Valley and go to The Beemer Shop to meet Ted Porter and his staff. My bike has suspension and a drive shaft supplied by them and I would like to ask a few questions about my Airhead that I want to resto-mod. It was early and so I stopped for breakfast then made my way to the shop. It was not obvious where it was since there is no prominent sign and when I found it I learned that they were closed because they went to the MOA, a BMW bike gathering. Oh well.
During this trip the connection to my left helmet speaker was acting up and I eventually had to position the cable just so to have both speakers working. It is really nice to have music in your head while riding all day and my MP3 collection is pretty big so I get a variety of styles. Today I could not get the cable in the right place to have stereo. Bummer, but at least I don’t have too much farther to go. I rode the 200 miles on one speaker.
I continued on through Santa Cruz and made my way to the 101. Going down the coast is still not possible because of the damaged bridge and two land slides. One of the slides is huge and before I left read that engineers were not sure how to deal with the forty or fifty feet of earth covering the road. It is not a simple matter of clearing it because the hill above is still very unstable.
As I rode south the temperature climbed as I went through the agricultural areas toward Paso Robles and its wine country. It was about 95 degrees in Paso and I was ready to get over the pass and feel the cool ocean air. It is like a switch, suddenly a ten degree drop and then a steady reduction until it was about 60 degrees when I got to Pismo Beach. This was my destination where I was going to stay at my cousin’s for the night and catch up on life with Lynn and her husband Joe.
Lynn is a year younger than me and so we are in about the same place; our kids are done with school and now we have to figure out how get set for retirement. It has been several years since we were together so we had a nice tome just visiting. Late in the day I tried to go down and see if I could ride on the famous beach. The line of cars waiting to pay to go on the sand was about a quarter-mile long so I did not have the patience to wait through that. It was probably a wise decision since sand and a 600 pound motorcycle are not well suited for one another. I whiled away the evening and went to bed, no more tents on this trip.