I mentioned in my last post that I rode my moto just about every second of the weekend. I posted about Friday’s ride and all its police activity, but didn’t fill you in on the more relaxing Saturday ride. Guess what I’m going to do now.
It started off a bit shaky. It wasn’t shaky in the riding sense, it was shaky in the holy-shit-there’s-a-lot-of-traffic-headed-up-92 sense. I was meeting my friend, James, at the park-and-ride kind of where 280 and 92 meet. I got there late because of beach traffic, he got there even later because of some protest in the streets of San Francisco. You’d have to ask him more about that. He’s got a sweet little Ninja 250, all black. Seems like a really nimble bike and it looks pretty sick as well. As much as I love the nakeds, that is a really nice bike. Photos to follow.
We finally both arrived. He had actually just come over 92 so he assuaged my fears of a total crap ride because of traffic. It’s usually not great up 92, but he assured me that when he looked up Skyline the traffic subsided. It did. So a great ride up to Alice’s and the parking lot for the Trading Post was packed with bikes as usual. The sun was sharp off all the chrome, reflected off Harleys and Ducatis and, well, just about every kind of bike. It’s always pretty shiny up there on the weekends. We kept going, down 84 and then up Pescadero Creek Road. I love those roads and swinging the bike back and forth through the S’s, diving into the bottom of a bermed turn. So great. I was actually pretty happy with the lack of traffic after the disaster of 92. I had one little scare in a downhill hairpin. I’m not a huge fan of downhill twists in general, I’m not great turning to my right in particular, and when my rear wheel scoots a bit, well, just forget it. I actually put my foot down as I was coming out of the curve because of the little slip. Is this something I should break myself of? Am I going to shear my foot off sometime to a bloody nubbin? I don’t know. Maybe someone out there does. We stopped at one of my favorite little side-of-the-road, dirt, turnoffs and hung out by the creek for a while. It was pretty peaceful as usual and we just chilled and talked geek stuff and bike stuff, etc. The sun was subdued through the canopy of redwoods above and everything was just nice and cool, the water, the blue haze of the moisture still trapped in the air by the trees, the green-ish, yellow light. As I’ve said, awesome little spot.
We got back going and stopped briefly in Pescadero so James could find some cell service to communicate the lateness to his world. I asked if he was game for the bumps and dips of Stage Road and he was all for it. I’m actually bummed because I made a huge deal of the giant “Terminator” statue made of girders and rebar and bits of steel, that used to tower over a strange little sheep ranch (I’ve seen them training the sheep dogs in the surrounding fields), wielding a massive automatic weapon, only to find it gone. It will be missed. Did it suffer the same fate as the statue of Saddam in Baghdad? We bumped and dove and bounced our way to San Gregorio and then headed out to Highway 1 up to Half Moon Bay. That’s where we split up, he headed back up to the grids of the city and I followed the long line of cars back over the hill to Crystal Springs Reservoir and finally back to my little apartment next to the bay. Great, beautiful, California day and a good ride in the hills. What more could you ask for? Here are some photos: