Historic Jamestown - what stories could these buildings tell

As we neared Sonora we took a short detour through Historic Jamestown.  This is the sort of place I could easily spend a few hours in.  I would love to hear the stories those historic building would tell, of dreams shared, dreams shattered, lives changed – some for better, some for worse – but all stories rich with human experience.

We didn’t stop there, as we were close to our destination and the thought of a shower and a chance to explore Sonora sounded good. It was a shorter riding day today – only 250 miles (400 km) with a 2-night stop in Sonora (time to do the laundry).

Glenn, Tracey, Zea nd myself - exploring 'old Sonora'

We came into Sonora along West Stockland St into what I now call ‘old Sonora’.  This is the lovely historic part of town, and again I was imagining the stories these streets have seen.  Old gold-rush towns fascinate me, but now Sonora survives (maybe thrives – I’m not sure) on tourism.

We soon found accommodation that suited us at the Inns of California in Washington St.  It’s quite a grand looking historic-style building.  Reading back on ‘online’ reviews these are quite mixed, but our experience was fine. 

Bomb scare at the Sonora Courthouse

We loaded the laundry and took a walk downtown. It didn’t take too long to find some ‘local action’.  Outside the local courthouse were a few sheriff cars and trucks, and a large ‘Special Operations Division’ truck.  They seemed reasonably relaxed so I went over to chat to them.  Guns and trucks and things are always interesting, and I believe in being friendly with as many police officers as I can – never know when that friendly smile of recognition might pay off.

It turns out there had been a bomb scare in the courthouse, but all was under control.  They even let me photograph their vehicles inside and out provided there were no personal ID details visible anywhere.

Sonora Psychic sign - I thought they 'knew' stuff, like that someone is at the door.

A short stroll back to hotel – clothes in the drier and back down for something to eat.  We passed a local Physic’s office with this sign on the door.  Pretty poor of the Psychic to not be able to tell that you have arrived!

We selected the Diamondback Grill for dinner – it looked to have a good atmosphere, and the menu suited us.  I continued my quest to sample local beers, and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale was the suggestion by the young lady who took our order, and what an excellent suggestion.  It could have been that we had been riding for many hours in 106F temps that helped, but that was a GOOD beer.  (From memory, the previous night in Carmel the most ‘local’ beer they could suggest at Hogs Breath was Budweiser.  Not good).

Sierra Pale Ale at the Diamondback Grill

The great meal, great company, cold beer and prospect of tomorrows ride up Sonora Pass all combined for that lovely warm inner glow of a day well spent, and another great day coming up.

Tomorrow we hit our first real ‘twisty’ road that was a ‘must ride’ when I first started my planning.  WhooHoo!! 

No entry for motorcycles, not even quiet ones.

Early breakfast (tiny breakfast bar at the hotel – better to eat in your room), packed and ready to go.  Glenn likes his golf, and the idea was to ride through the Monterey Peninsula (17 Mile Drive) and look at famous courses like Pebble Beach in particular.  We followed The Waif through Carmel until we came to a security gate and a sign saying ‘No Motorcycles’.  Surely that meant loud bikes, not us civilized Aussies on tour.  We were politely told NO motorcycles included us.

Well, there’s more than one way in, so plan B was activated.  No luck at the next security gate either – the message was consistent – polite, but consistent. We, as suspected practitioners of unknown and undefined evil vices, were not welcome.

Roadworks - you on the motorcycle go to the head of the queue

Oh well, on we went up Highway 1, still hugging the coast, still in mist, the same as yesterday.  Came across a few roadworks, but just as in Aussie, we slowly cruised to the front of the queue and no one minded.  After all, we didn’t hold anyone up.

Now we started riding through pumpkin fields, and with Halloween a few weeks away there were Halloween pumpkins everywhere.

Halloween Pumpkins everywhere

Our intention was to keep to the coast as far as we could, then head east skirting San Francisco.  Tempting as it was to cross the Golden Gate bridge, we passed this opportunity up this time round.

More Halloween Pumpkins

At Half Moon Bay we headed easy on Route 92 and across to the San Mateo Bridge, the 25^th longest bridge in the world.  2 miles of highrise section and 5 miles of low-level bridge, making a total of 7 miles across San Francisco Bay.  In hindsight, we did have enough time to see the Golden Gate Bridge, but we weren’t to know it then.

San Mateo Bridge

After crossing San Mateo Bridge we were on the SF highway system, and again The Waif in the Garmin Zumo came into her own.  At one stage we were faced with the highway splitting into 3 lanes each going 2 different ways, all in the middle of a construction zone.  Because it was a deviation/construction zone the GPS was slightly out, so at a time like that you just keep in your lane – in this case heading left.  Soon it became evident that heading right was the correct option, but The Waif calmly directed us around a few turns and it wasn’t long and we were back on track (or rather, back on multi-lane highway with bumper-to-bumper traffic).

Heading East from SF we were amazed at the number of wind turbines all over the place.  In Australia we can’t get these things built because they are apparently hazardous to our birds and people complain about the noise – here they were everywhere.  Maybe we’ve just got dumber birds and more sensitive ears.  They’re not pretty, but obviously effective as they were everywhere.

106 Degrees

Once away from the coast the temperature soared, and soon we were in freeway traffic at 106 degrees, heading along 580.  From SF to Sonora we were pretty much in light urban areas – very interesting seeing the towns we passed through – well passed, rather than through, until we were off the real highways around Manteca and on to Yosemite Avenue – now that’s a nice sounding name.

With the time we were making we would be in Sonora with time to find accommodation and still explore the town.  All was good.

Then I had one of my increasing rare flashes of genius (and pardon the slight technical deviation just for a moment) – the previous owner had fitted adjustable dogbones to lower the bike, and all I needed was to be able to jack the bike up, undo some bolts, reposition the holes, insert bolts and tighten. Said like this even I could do it, but I didn’t have the jack.

This is us - David & Zea

Yellow Pages to the rescue, and I find a Harley customizing shop that I think is 5 minutes away – call them, all is good.  Bill’s Monterey Custom Cycles at 1993 Del Monte Blvd. If I get there in 10 minutes they can do it before closing time. WhoooHooo!

Hop on the bike and quickly key in the address to the trusty Garmin Zumo. The waif is fast becoming my new best friend. As I start following her instructions the calculation finishes and it says 25 minutes to destination! I was wrong – the shop is not as close as I thought. But 25 minutes Garmin-time can be reduced to about 18 minutes FJR-elapsed time with careful use of the right hand.

I got there as they were wheeling bikes in the shop to close up, but the owner figured I looked like I need help, and besides, one of his mechanics eyes lit up. “I did a training course on those” he says. Turns out he worked for Yamaha dealer in his last job, and he was going to enjoy showing off his skill and knowledge.

15 Minutes later all done (amazing what the right tools achieve) and the shop foreman hadn’t even started a job-card yet. The shop-owner looked a little confused, and everyone wanted to go home, so I gave him a $100 bill and said I don’t need a receipt, provided it goes into the staff ‘party’ fund.  I was grateful for the prompt service, the shop staff were happy, and I was on my way with a sharper handling bike that didn’t drag parts anymore.

Hogs Breath Cafe

Back to the hotel, shower and time to hit the streets of Carmel, which, on a chilly Monday night, are dead! Almost not another soul to be seen, quite the opposite of Santa Barbara on a Sunday. But hey. Maybe this is true for most of the world – Monday is not really a ‘going-out’ night.

Carmel has some interesting looking Galleries and similar, though, and it was quite pleasant exploring the Ocean Avenue precinct. When it came time to eat we settled on Hogs Breath Cafe (didn’t know it at the time, but apparently Clint Eastwood has strong ties to the Hogs Breath), down an arcade to the back of a building, and this was a good choice.  Tasty food, quiet atmosphere (like I said, it is Monday night), and an outside area with a large open fire for the chilly nights, with a large mural covering a courtyard wall.

All in all, a very satisfying day, even if Highway 1 didn’t live up to it’s star billing.

The previous 2 days had really been ‘getting us into position’ from where we were to start our serious touring. In my initial dreaming I had listed a number of roads that were ‘must ride roads’, and then planned how we would join the dots. These were roads that I read about on US riding forums, such as the USA FJRForum, and Pashnit. 

Our touring routine was already established. It seems that it is a regular feature that hotels in the USA offer breakfast as a standard, although the quality does vary. Early breakfast for us and a glance at the local newspaper to get a feel for local issues, and soon the crew were ready to roll. 

The four of us - Zea, myself, Tracey and Glenn, ready for the serious touring.

It really is great having quick-release panniers and top box, as it takes only a few minutes to hook them up and be ready to ride. 

As we were preparing to leave there were 3 other bikes in the car park, and this was the usual too – either Harley’s or Goldwings.  We were definitely in the minority on Sports-Tourers.   Another regular feature was the friendliness af everyone. maybe the novelty of our Aussie accents helped. 

The morning was misty and we had hopes that it would clear as the sun heated up, but we were to have on-and-off mist over the ocean all day. We headed up Highway 101/State Highway 1 through Lompoc (for fuel), Guadalupe to Grover Beach. 

Fertile farmlands and seasonal workers

The area around here is obviously fertile and great for growing ‘stuff’, with a great variety of vegetables being grown. We were constantly passing between well cultivated fields with workers going about their business. Some of the field scenes reminded me of the Charles Bronson film Mr Majestyk (does this show my age?), and there was a real mix of workers vehicles parked along the way, from wrecks that looked to be barely roadworthy to near-new pickup trucks. 

Then on through Morro Bay and we stopped in Cambria at the French Corner Bakery for morning coffee. Great coffee, and yummy pastries. 

Steely grey ocean and grey skies

From here is was the ocean road for real, and the fog off the Pacific (or is it mist here?) did spoil the view. Instead of sparkling blue waters reflecting clear blue skies and towering mountains on the right, we had steely-grey ocean and grey skies, and mountain tops hidden in the mist. 

Elephant seal colony

The road was great, although there were long sections that were far less technical than I expected. The weather wasn’t bad, but we didn’t experience the best this road and coast have to offer. Of course we stopped to have a look at the Elephant Seal colony, but we bypassed the Hearst Castle – Glenn and I were enjoying riding the road too much for too many stops. 

Something that became evident to me quite soon though, was that we needed to make an adjustment to our bike. The previous owner had lowered the bike, and this did NOT suit my riding style. I was scraping parts on too many corners, and this was definitely not good with the roads we had lined up to ride ahead of us.  This was cramping my riding style quite considerable, and through the day I was scheming on what options I might have. 

Mist lifted just a little later in the day, but we didn't see the sun

As we got closer to our destination of Carmel the mist did lift somewhat, and were treated to glimpses of the majesty of Highway 1. Today was one of our shortest days overall, a little less than 300 miles, as we had expected far more stops and ohh ahh moments. 

We hadn’t booked ahead, and after a quick tour through town selected a likely looking hotel.  This proved to be fully booked, but the friendly receptionist called ahead to another nearby hotel that had just 2 rooms left, and 2 rooms were all we needed, so that was all good. The Best Western Townhouse Lodge on San Carlos St was everything we needed – clean, well appointed, and well located for an easy walk to Ocean St and restaurants, etc. 

Now my challenge to do something about the bike rose to the surface.

They had hired a Honda ST1300 from  San Francisco, and the hire company had trailered the bike from SF to LA airport to meet them.  Glenn had some trouble fitting his Garmin Zumo mount, but fortunately they all found a hardware store nearby, and it took a little while in the carpark to sort everything out.  The guys from SF were patient and obliging, and took Glenn and Tracey’s suitcases back to SF in their truck for collection at the end of the trip.  

Chilling at The Sandbar

A text message from Tracey let us know they were running late, and we went and strolled through the local area around Haley St and State St. and settled on the Sandbar Mexican Restaurant and Tequila Bar to eat, mainly as we could sit outside and watch Santa Barbara go by.  And what a great choice it turned out to be.   

One happy girl, enjoying herself.

It was still light when we settled in, and as evening settled in too it was just magic watching the lights come on and the world change.  I continued a tradition I’ve had for a long time, and asked the server what was the most ‘local’ beer.  I was determined to sample as many different local varieties as I could, and avoid the big brands (unless I saw Canadian Kokanee, but that’s a story for another day).   

Zea ordered a glass of local red wine, and two arrived, as did 2 beers for me.  Turns out it was happy hour, and the evening was becoming very mellow.    

Blues on the Sax - what a great complement to our evening.

Of course we ate Mexican food!  And just a twilight arrived so did a street Sax player.  How good was that!   

Sitting and chilling while hearing the blues played on a Sax seemed just so appropriate.   

We wandered back to our hotel, and found that Glenn and Tracey had recently arrived.  After their quick shower and change we headed out again, back to the Sandbar, or maybe it was Pierre Lafond Wine Bistro next door – I don’t recall.   

There was a lot of catching up to do – their story of their flight and the hassles of small details when they picked up the bike; and our story of our flight and our 2 days riding so far.   

The group of 4 was reunited, and tomorrow it was up the ‘All American Road’ – Highway 1.   

A quick ride down the Strip and onto I15, following the signs to LA.  About 50 miles down the highway we stopped at Whiskey Pete’s Truck Stop for breakfast – well, not actually at Whiskey Pete’s but the McDonald’s. And yes, just like Macca’s in Australia, you do wonder about how wholesome the food is at MickeyD’s. 

Death Valley that way

 Once again we were fairly wide-eyed, partly because it was just like we expected, and also because in places it was nothing like we expected.  Seeing signs to places like Death Valley was magical.  As a kid my Dad always polished his car with Turtle Wax as it was tested in California’s Death Valley.  And true to expectations, the temps were over 100F. 

Passing some of the many Motor-Homes on 2 Wheels

We passed quite a few motor cycles (that’s American for motor bikes) mostly Harley Davidson’s (of course) and a surprising large number of Honda Goldwings, really decked out like a 2-wheeled motor home.  Little did we know at the time that we were still to meet the REAL RV’s (Recreational Vehicles – not what we see everyday in Australia). 

We planned to avoid LA city, and at Barstow headed West on Route 58, and through Palmdale.  This was definitely not the part of California you see in the movies, unless they involve Trailer-parks.  The Mexican/Spanish influence was greater than I expected, but only because I hadn’t thought about it.  Spanish names were everywhere, and I was looking forward to indulging my penchant for Mexican food. 

From Barstow we had really started appreciating the Garmin Zumo, as it made navigating a breeze. And true to form, we had to name the voice that was telling us to ‘in 300 metres, turn left’. She was soon known as The Waif, as she sounded much like the Aussie Band – The Waifs. One of their better known songs also has an American link – the story of war brides from Australia going to their husbands in the USA – Bridal Train 

Heading down to sea level on R14

Then it was on to Route 14 – a spectacular highway heading down to San Fernando.  The temps were still up in the high 90’s, and suddenly we were near the ocean and the temps came down about 25 degrees in 20 minutes. 

Santa Barbara was our destination – only the 2^nd and last night that we had pre-booked. Quite heavy traffic the last stretch, although we had really been travelling with traffic all day.  

Holiday Inn Express Santa Barbara - very welcome after a hot day

It was a lovely place, although not as ‘on-the-ocean’ as we are familiar with. Our usual routine was well established – find our hotel, shower and change, and go exploring. The Holiday Inn Express was very comfortable – more pricey than our target for the whole trip, but this is Santa Barbara. 

This was FUN, and soon we were off for a drink and dinner.

Slabbing to Las Vegas

Light lunch at the aptly-named (for us) Eagle Landing Food mart attached to the Texaco Gas Station in Beaver, USA. We were going to get familiar with the names! From here it was going to be slabbing it all the way on I15 to Las Vegas, soon to be nicknamed Crass Vegas, although I am sure we are not the first.

About 120 miles down the road we stopped at Pro Cycle Power Sports in Washington (St George) Ut to see if they had a darker tint visor for Zea – the bright sunlight was proving to be very bright. We were to back here 10 days later on an unscheduled stop, but more of that later.

The changing scenery - semi desert with mountains in teh distance

Temps were now 104F or 40C (hitting 106F just before LV), and we were just cruising along at between 75 and 85 mph, which seemed to be the speed the traffic flowed.

Then, springing up in the desert in the middle of nowhere, was Las Vegas. It really did bring out mixed feelings – the vision of building a city out in the desert, but the sadness of the city seemingly based on material greed; the opulence of The Strip, the Hotels, the Casinos, and the hopelessness of many just hoping for their big win.

Rising from the desert

But we weren’t there to moralize. Our trusty Garmin Zumo took us straight to Circus Circus, where we were staying for all of $29 a night. It turned out to be a room in one of at least 3 ‘dormitory blocks’ (as I describe them) adjoining the hotel. The room was a regular hotel room in a large, unimaginative 3-storey block of possibly as many as 140 to 180 rooms, but it was for 1 night – no big deal.

The bright lights of Las Vegas

A lovely shower and change, and we wandered through the casino out onto the poorer end of the strip – well, maybe not poorer, but seemingly less well kept and more derelict, but it wasn’t far too the bright lights.

But we weren’t really out for a late night. The first day had been a very good day, even though not the most interesting or challenging roads. About 450 miles of varied scenery, very hot, but everything was working perfectly – bike was great, all our preparations were proving good.

Tomorrow was into California, towards Los Angeles and to the coast.  

Outside Jims, our stop for breakfast.

The plan was to clear the city then stop for breakfast, which we did at Jim’s. This proved that the breakfast we had the previous day was not an exception. Welcome for the second time to breakfast, USA style. Enough to feed a large family! Besides the regular breakfast, you get pancakes to follow!

All that and pancakes too!

With 720 km ahead, we took the scenic detour along Route 89 through Spring City and Gunnison before taking route 70 through Fishlake National Forest and rejoining the Veterans Memorial Highway. This was a great introduction to riding in the USA. So far we had been riding through verdant farmland with mountains either side of a very, very broad valley. We were having an absolute ball.

When we tour we do use a rider-to-pillion intercom so we were able to chat and compare notes on what we each found interesting. When riding 2-up it certainly adds to the pleasure or touring.

I’ve been asked many times how I adjust to riding (or driving) on the right hand side of the road.  It’s actually quite easy – just have someone with you (passenger or pillion) who doesn’t want to die just yet, and they will help you keep to the correct lane! We made one mistake on a deserted road for about 10 seconds. And we also found that drivers in the USA are just as unobservant as in Australia – only 2 hours into our ride and the first driver pulled out of a side road right in front of us.

A small town heading south from SLC

Soon the wind, the smell of the countryside, and the absolute freedom of visibility that you only get on a bike had settled us into our regular touring rhythm, and the hassles of the flight were a distant memory. That familiar ‘in-helmet smile’ was firmly in place.

Our touring routine is well settled – start early, and do longish stretches before lunch. Our first stop after breakfast saw us 100 miles south of SLC (all distances will probably be in miles from here on), with a quick leg stretch and drink of water. Zea had also settled into her touring routine – taking photos left, right, and centre.

 Another 100 miles and our first fuel stop, and a check that everything was fine. The day had warmed up rapidly, and it wasn’t long before the in-dash temp gauge showed we had hit 100 F, and it wasn’t even midday. This showed that our planning was paying off, as neither of us was feeling any discomfort. We were making sure to keep drinking while on the move, me with my Camelback, and Zea with her water bottle (made easy with her new Shoei Multitec flip-front helmet).

Off the 'back roads' and onto the highway

Once back on I15 we settled into the ‘murcan way of travelling. I don’t recall the speed limit, but found that we largely ignored it, choosing instead to just travel at the speed of the traffic, which was generally about 15 to 20 mph above the limit. We passed some highway patrol cars, but they seemed more intent on observing driver behavior rather than stopping everyone on the road for travelling 15 mph over the limit.

We were now in our first experience of riding in the USA desert/semi desert, and the scenery was just awesome.

And this was only midday on day ONE!