Lassen Volcanic National Park

“Sort-of-Sabbatical” Day Eighteen, Wednesday June 20

It may have taken having narrowly escaped both a run in with an axe murderer and/or Bigfoot yesterday and near assault by dinosaurs this morning,  but I am actually glad to be headed away from the ever-mesmerizing Pacific Ocean.

Since I’ve been so cold while riding the last few days, I pass over a recommended bakery and begin my morning with what probably amounts to more calories than I usually eat in an entire day.   The hippy happy Blue Cafe in Arcata provides me a delicious veggie omelet, buttery biscuits, sausage, coffee, juice and… a power outlet.   Stomach and gizmos fully charged!  Go!

The Trinity Scenic Byway doesn’t start off promising, but - twists and turns and hills, oh my! - by the time I get further east, I find what very well  may be the sportiest section of asphalt since my day ride in Marin County.  The hairpins on the downhill slope are laid out before me with nothing to obstruct my view. And despite yesterday’s fun, I am more than ready to lean over the tank and explore the edges of my tires in earnest.  Except I’m moving so slowly I’m forced to carve out serpentines within my lane just to keep off the clutch.  I and at least 50 other cars are following a construction pilot car, creeping along at a painful pace for miles. It’s hot and getting hotter, and I am still wearing my wool riding clothes and electric vest.  By the time I reach Redding, the dash tells me it’s 102 degrees.  Even so, I am handling this weather challenge with much more grace than the cold conditions of two days ago, and I resist removing any layers because I look ahead and see snow.  Lots of it.  I know that within a half hour I will be Up There.

And here is Up There.  “There” being Lassen Volcanic National Park.  I had never even heard of it until I started planning my trip, but after seeing it on the map, I declared it a necessary destination.




I snap a photo of the bike. Why have I taken so few of it, when it's the very point of my trip?  Probably because I can see the real live thing any time I want to.  I already know what it looks like.




Alas, much like at Crater Lake National Park, all the trails at Lassen are still under many feet of snow. I will not be hiking “Bumpass Hell” (so named by Kendall Bumpass who, in 1864, fell into a boiling pool, losing his leg) and viewing interesting hydrothermal features today.   Nor will I be summiting Lassen Peak, viewing Kings Creek Falls, or even learning a bit about the park at any of the Visitor’s Centers, because they are closed.

Instead, I take great joy in my consolation prize – riding back and forth along the twisty scenic bit of CA 89, more of the Volcanic Legacy Scenic Byway, that runs through the park.  One pass for the scenery, another for the corners...




I pull in near my campsite to catch my breath and fill the tank.  This road is good fun and deserves yet another pass.  But something is wrong with the fueling station credit card reader, and the attendant, who is just closing up shop, will not take a cash sale. Looks like I’m marooned until morning.


No matter. I amuse myself by stalking geese…




… and watching the light turn golden on the trees across Manzanita Lake.



Lucky me.  It’s been another good day.

Day Ride with Fellow EX-er: Marin

“Sort-of-Sabbatical” Day Ten, Tuesday June 12

Even though it turns out to be a popular rendezvous point, a parking lot seems like a strange place to meet up with some guy I’ve known only from  EX.com.  So I email him the night before and suggest that perhaps starting our ride from a cafe might be nice.   He’s agreeable.

But between the cafe and the Ducati lies an obstacle of sorts.



I can not believe I’m about to ride across the Golden Gate bridge!  I’ve been marveling at the thought of it since I left Arizona, jabbing my friends in the arm and informing them of this over and over until they wanted to whack me on the Shoei.  But today is the day!  Even though I’ll ride many more miles, and find myself much further from home than San Francisco, for me, the bridge has come to represent the relative bigness of my ride.  It’s so spectacularly, well… landmark!  I’ve come a long way!

Here’s “Apriliarider” arriving at the BridgeWay Cafe on his Italian rocketship.
 


Meeting at a cafe turned out to be a good idea.  These eats are the real deal!




After enjoying our croissants and coffee, (and after I’ve decided Apriliarider is not going to cut my body into pieces and throw them off the bridge), we head off to our parking lot, which happens to afford spectacular views of the bridge. We are not the only ones here, though, oh no.  The spot is mobbed with tourists (many of them on motorcycles) all angling this way and that to get a shot like this:
 


Apriliarider is a gracious tour guide, allowing me time to take countless photos of the Ducati and the bridge, and he has planned out a nice loop for our day.  We stop at the Marin Headlands for another view.




But the scenery for the rest of the afternoon flies by faster than any camera shutter.  The Panoramic Highway (“Mt. Tam Road”) is freshly paved, and we have it 100% to ourselves, which, in a populated area such as this, is a near miracle.  Never in my life have I seen switchbacks in this kind of shape: the pavement is flawless, and there’s not a speck, no not even a crumb, of gravel or sand or road surface hazard of any sort to worry about.  It’s one thing to arrange for a good sporting run on your own turf, it’s quite another to have one fall into your lap while touring.  The only fly in the ointment, and it really is just a small fly, is that I’m moving at “never seen this road before” speed.  Apriliarider is outriding me easily, but he’s a polite enough host to honor my reconnaissance pace and I’m hoping he finds it respectable, at least.  Still and all, my boots kiss pavement a time or two as we dodge about the redwoods, bikes swinging left and right beneath us.  We fly north next, squeezing between the Point Reyes National Seashore on our west and the Golden Gate National Recreation Area on our east,  and then dart southeast with a zig and a zag,  before we – whoosh! - close the loop and part ways with a friendly wave and salute.  It was Splendour on the Asphalt, Glory of the Throttle!  And with that I offer my thanks to Apriliarider... and my apologies to William Wordsworth.

As It Should Be (Southern California Must-See Number Two: Angeles Crest Highway

“Sort-of-Sabbatical” Day Five, Thursday June 7

Left... right... left.... right... leftrightleftright... (Survey Run)
Salami Grinder.  Turn Around.
Left... right... left.... right... (Faster)
Wave to sport bikers taking a break on the porch of Newcomb's Ranch
Left... right... left.... right... (Faster still)
Turn Around.
Left... right... left.... right... (Again, faster - I don't have to keep saying that part, do I?)
Ride right on by Newcomb's Ranch without noticing.  Oops!
Left... right... left.... right...
Turn Around.
Left... right... left.... right...
Lemonade at Newcomb's Ranch.
Left... right... left.... right...
Head back to port.

No long haul freeway riding through the desert.
No high winds that blow me across not one but two lanes of I-10, despite my conservative speed.
No SoCal gridlock.
No camera.
Just 175 miles of doing what the Ducati was born to do.
Good Stuff.

100 Miles* is Still Not Enough (Logan Canyon, Tony Grove, Bear Lake and Strawberry Canyon)

As promised, I did ride the Logan Canyon Scenic Byway yesterday.  I snapped a few photos for you.  Each one met the four requirements set forth in my last post.  As I was riding, I realized I should have listed one more point.  So here it is:

5.  Stopping will not cause me undue concern about being late for work.  Or endanger my ability to arrive at my  final destination before dark. (You know how I feel about riding at night.)  Because playing beat the clock (lap times not withstanding) takes some of the fun out of it.  And why partake in what is widely recognized as a fairly dangerous activity if you’re not enjoying it?

Here’s a photo of the Rick Springs Area. 




No, there is not usually water rushing over the pedestrian bridge.  It’s been an unusual year here, and Logan River has exceeded flood stage.  The daily flood warnings continue.  Areas of the road were reinforced  with temporary berms of sand and gravel to guard against the rising river.  That sand and gravel will no doubt find its way onto the roadway over the course of the summer (grumble).  But not today!   This little spot has always intrigued me, but it took a stinging insect in my sportsbra to actually get me to pull over.  What timing!

I can report that the pavement on the side road up to Tony Grove is in fine form.  Not a defect to be seen.  It's definitely not regulation width though, so I recommend a recon lap to map it out in your head before testing your limits.

Here’s a fun left hander.  Or right hander.  Depending on which way you’re going.




I thought there might be snow on the Tony Grove road, but so far, so good!



Aieeee!  The Duc stops here.




I could have managed another 50 yards or so winding my way through a clear tire track a few inches wide, but I’m glad I didn’t.  With no way to turn around, I’d just have to push the bike backwards, expensive track boots in the snow, to get back out.  I did walk the final quarter mile or so to the lake.  Slogging a half mile in snow several feet deep, wearing inappropriate footwear and thirty pounds of safety gear at 8100 feet definitely qualifies as my exercise for the day.

There’s a lake around here somewhere…




Ahh!  That’s better.  This is what I expect to see when I ride up to Tony Grove.  Like I said, it’s an unusual year here in Logan Canyon.




Archival photo graciously provided by C.S.  I do believe my only photos of this lake are from back in the days of actual film and are in a closet somewhere in Tucson.  Hard to believe.

If you can tear your eyes from the view (and even the most hopeless adrenalin junkie will have difficulty, the Bear Lake overlook is that much of a showstopper), and not let the scent of sage brush and wildflowers distract you, there are some fine fast sweeping turns to be enjoyed as you make your way down from visitor's center at the east end of the canyon into Garden City, UT.  RazzleBlueDazzle! were my words, I do believe, when I waxed poetic about Bear Lake back in 2008. It’s worth repeating.
 



For nine summers now I’ve been telling myself I’m going to spend a day photographing this lake.  The myriad brilliant blues to the south, the lesser known marshy Bear Lake National Wildlife Refuge in the north…  Still waiting on this one.

Garden City is as fine a place as any to grab an American diner style bacon cheeseburger with fries.  (If you’re looking for portabellas and Kobe beef, better to hit ZinBurger in Tucson.)  Toss in a raspberry shake, for which the area is famous, and you’ve got… a really, really full belly.  I find it worth the discomfort and usually opt for the "Home Town Drive-In", if for no other reason than their fine grassy picnic area.  I’ve also learned you can get a freshly made donut and espresso across the street at the Holey Cow.  Good to know for those morning rides.

Continue north, into Idaho, proceed through Strawberry Canyon (ID 36) and loop back down into Utah. Return home via the north end of town, where you can check a few errands off the list to tell yourself you’ve gotten something done instead of squandering your afternoon in sinful play.

Dinner that night?  A bowl of muesli.  Turns out I was late for work.

*This trip actually clocks in at 145 miles.  Add 14 miles for each additional run up and down the Tony Grove road.  (You’ll want several.)  Still, Not. E. Nough.

100 Miles is Not Enough (Hyrum Canyon)

Sometimes your day insists your ride be confined to only one tank of gas.  Regrettable, but it beats not riding at all.  Today I took my first northern Utah ride of the season, but still had to fit in quite a bit a work.  My usual first ride is to Bear Lake via Logan Canyon, but as it is Sunday, I opted for the less traveled Hyrum Canyon.  At least I call it Hyrum Canyon. Maybe it’s called Blacksmith Fork Canyon.  I do know for sure it’s a nearby 15 mile stretch of UT 101 that leads to the Hardware Ranch Wildlife Management Area.

Here’s the “bat cave:”

The bat cave!

Can you hear songbirds chirping?  Listen a little closer.  You can also hear the low rumble of a Monster 696 from within.  I’ve never had a garage before, and while I usually stay in a free student apartment each summer, this year is different. I’m renting (you’ll figure out why another time) a 1925 bungalow from a friend, complete with grass, shade trees, flowers and the Logan River in my backyard.  I gotta say, it feels pretty cool to be hiding what you like to think of as your ferocious machine in this little country shed!

Hyrum Canyon is not national park material, but it is just full of perfect little vignettes.  Like “Snowy Mountains Emerging from Canyon’s Mouth.”  Or “Magestic Tree with Rushing River and Wildflowers.”  Or “Magpie on Fence Post”.  (I didn’t bother with this one.  While I can coax a decent landscape or food shot out of my Canon G11, I find it quite worthless for anything that moves.  You know, things like people.  Or animals.  Or motorcycles.  *sigh*)

Any road has it oddities, too.  Like “Water Bubbling from Beneath the Asphalt.”  (Does this have something to do with the current flooding?) Or “Enormous Testicles of Upward Climbing Deer.”  (Seriously, they were impressive.)  And I can’t forget “Startled Sheep.”  Which perhaps could just as well be named “Startled Motorcyclist.”  (Just who startled whom?)  That one was fairly exciting, at least from my point of view.

I do have a few actual photographs to share with you.  They are not the most beautiful scenes I saw today, but each one did fit four strict requirements.

1. I thought it was pretty.
2. The lighting was decent.
3. I was not too chicken to pull off the asphalt to take the photograph (this road doesn't really have a shoulder to speak of).  I have short legs.  Anything more than .0398%* grade and at least one of my feet is not going to be able to touch the ground.  If it’s my left foot, I have to let the bike free fall to land on its side stand.  Call me crazy, but I like to know that bike it sitting safely on the stand before I let go.  If it’s my right foot, then I can’t even lift my left foot to engage the side stand.  Yes, I could free fall that perilous three inches to the right to stand on that leg, but you assume there is firm footing on which to catch 350-400 pounds of motorcycle.  You also assume I am not unreasonably concerned about this incredibly awkward scenario.  So much for feeling cool.  Now the Ducati is lower than my Kawasaki, so that’s an improvement.  Except that any courage I may have gained from this edge is overshadowed by that fact that I really, really do not want to drop my shiny, not held together with packing tape,  never been horizontal (imagined extreme lean angles not withstanding), still new to me as far as I’m concerned, motorcycle.  I freely admit I’m a fair weather photographer.  I’m not gonna risk, or even enter into a paranoid perceived risk of, to be more accurate, dropping my bike for a photograph. I’m just not.
4. There is probably an RV, farm machinery and a slow moving SUV that I can’t get around right away, so I might as well pull over anyway.    Let me tell you, if the road is free and clear (which today, it was almost the entire time) I ain’t stoppin’!

You might imagine that’s an awful lot of information to process whilst flying ‘round the bend in full sport mode.  You are correct.  It is.

Today's vignettes:

Scrumptious Looking Grass in Springtime Meadow

 

Wooden Cart-Thingy (There was a row of 16 of these carts, actually.  Weird.  Where did they come from and why?)

 

Pond: Cattails Not Shown

Ducati with Field of Wildflowers in the Distance

Funny.  Not one of those photos looks like a canyon.  Well it is.  You'll just have to trust me on that one. Probably not a coincidence that this flatter area affords me a better shot at finding a place to pull over.

Dinner tonight?  Kielbasa (which didn't seem very kielbasa-like, but still was very tasty), a salad of baby greens and crusty bread, all scored at the local farmers’ market yesterday morning.

100 miles.**  Not. E. Nough.  I think I’m getting up early tomorrow to hit Logan Canyon.

* Okay, I made that number up, but you get my point.
**Yes, I said the canyon is a nearby 15 mile stretch, but I did indeed manage to squeak in 100 miles today.   I bet you can figure it out.  ;-)