2003 CALIFORNIA MOTORCYCLE TRIP

Catherine and I rode our Harleys on a 12 day 4620 mile trip to visit her Uncle Frank in California. As always on our trips we tried to stay on smaller two lane highways, see country we had not seen before, soak up some of the ambience of the locales we rode through, and meet some of the local people. We succeeded for the most part and had a very enjoyable trip.

Thursday July 3, 2003: My Wide Glide had broken a wrist pin about 3 weeks earlier which had caused considerable damage to both cylinders. Larry Edmonds and his crew at Longhorn Scooters in Lone Grove got to work on it ASAP and put two new cylinders and a new cam in it, did a valve job, and generally overhauled the top end of the bike. I was hesitant about leaving on a long trip without some test riding first, and was leaning toward aborting the trip, but Larry convinced me that everything would be fine. I caught a ride to Lone Grove with my luggage at 1 PM and as I was finishing packing the bike Catherine got there on her Sportster. We took off about 2 PM and rode west on Hwy 70 to Davidson, south across the Red River to Vernon, TX, and continued on west on Hwy 70 to Matador, TX where we stopped for supper at Billie Dean’s Café.

Billie Dean’s is a little local café and the other diners were local farmers and ranchers. As we walked in the waitress yelled “shut the door!”, so I rapidly shut it and said “yes Ma’am”. Everyone started laughing because even though I thought she was yelling at me she was yelling at the cook who had the back door open and flies were getting in. The other diners gave her all kinds of grief about being mean to the customers and we all had a good laugh. The food was good but people who are a little squeamish might not like it because flies were a problem and several of the customers were even brandishing fly swatters.

We rode on to Clovis, NM on Hwy 70, and then took Hwy 60 to Fort Sumner where we got a room at the Billy The Kid Motel. We have stayed there before and the people who own it are really nice and do anything they can to make your stay more comfortable. We rode 445 miles today.

Friday July 4, 2003: After being visited by Billy the Kid’s ghost during the night (Catherine woke up and saw shadows from a hanging jacket) we got an early start and stayed on Hwy 60 west to the little town of Willard. On our trip last summer we had passed a little bar and grill there that looked like a good place, but we didn’t stop because we were racing a rainstorm. Later during the year some clients who have lived in that area told me that it had the best Mexican food around, so we set our sights on it for breakfast. Unfortunately we got there about 8 AM and they didn’t open till 11. We went on to Mountainair and ate good Huevos Rancheros at Ancient Cities Café. Apparently there are three ruins of old Native American cities near there and some old Spanish churches. There were pictures of them on the walls of the café. Once again the atmosphere was casual, the people were mostly local, and the food was good.

Larry had recommended an oil change on my new top end at 500 miles, so we stopped at a roadside pullout west of Mountainair and added our used oil to the oil and gravel mix at the rest area. There was no trash can so we packed up the used filters and empty oil bottles and headed on west. We rode on west to Bernardo, took I-25 south to Socorro, then hooked back up with Hwy 60 west. The country through New Mexico to Socorro was all high plains/desert. One can see little bluffs, hills, short grass with a few cattle, sheep, and goats. It is dry and can get hot, but the temperatures are cool early and the jackets felt good. West of Socorro after noon the temperatures started to rise, but we did also as we headed into the Gallinas and Datil Mountains. Some peaks here are over 10,000 feet. It was warm, but the humidity was low and the wind felt great in our face.

We ate a late lunch at El Serape Café in Quemado, NM. It is another little local café, but the people were nice and we had a very good bowl of green chili there. It amazes me how every place makes green chili a little differently. Theirs had a layer of beans on the bottom of the bowl with a little cheese on top. We continued on in to Eagar, AZ, and then took Hwy 260 west into the higher mountains to Show Low. From there we stayed in National Forest land to the Canyon Point campground near Forest Lakes where we camped for the night. It was a nice campground and we were ready for it after riding 460 miles today.

Saturday July5, 2003: We took off early and due to a construction detour we rode through a little town in a canyon named Cristopher. We ate breakfast at the Creekside Café and visited with some bikers from southern AZ, who gave us some tips on roads to ride in there. The food was good, but I ordered a chorizo (Mexican sausage) omelet, and the cook thought it said cheese so I got a cheese omelet and put a lot of Tabasco on it. We got back on Hwy 260 and rode on it through Payson, Pine, Strawberry, and into Camp Verde. We hopped on I-17 north a few miles and visited Montezuma Castle National Monument. It is a cliff dwelling that predates a lot of the ones we’ve visited on other trips by a few hundred years. It was interesting, but very similar to many of the Anasazi cliff dwellings in New Mexico. By now it had warmed up enough to shed the leathers and we headed north on I-17 and exited onto Hwy 179, which took us into Sedona. I have heard a lot of people and books say how beautiful the red rocks of Sedona are, and they are very beautiful. I think we hit town at a bad time though because on 4^th of July weekend it was really packed with people. We rode north of town toward Oak Creek Canyon and took some pictures, then hightailed it south toward Jerome and what we hoped was less traffic congestion.

Jerome is an old mining town at the top of a mountain with neat winding mountain roads going and coming. You can visit some of the old mines, walk around town and look at the old buildings which are mostly art shops now. We looked a little, had a beer, then got on the bikes and headed down the mountain and south on Hwy 89A where we ate a late lunch at a Mexican restaurant in Prescott. We continued southwest on Hwy 89 to Hwy 71 and on into Aguila. By now we were in the desert and it was HOT. We stopped for gas and to fill our little ice chest with ice and water, then decided to go back to a little bar to cool off for a little while. The lady bartender ended up having lived in OK for several years and the 3 patrons were friendly as heck. Of course they had to know where we were from and where we were going. When we told them we planned to make Parker that night the ringleader, a Mexican named Mundo, proceeded to tell us all the bars in Parker and between Aguila and Parker. Then he bought me a beer and started telling us stories of their escapades. The best one was when one of the guys named John got mad at Mundo’s dog bothering him one night during a party and threw his boot at him. The dog picked up the boot and took off with it and they couldn’t find it. The next morning after Mundo woke up he headed for town and found John hobbling along with only one boot on. So Mundo christened John “Shy One Shoe”.

We left Aguila going west on Hwy 60 to the junction of Hwy 60 and 72, where we stopped for water at a little crossroads called Hope, AZ. There we visited with an old desert dweller and Harley rider and his two daughters. They were all very nice and pleasant and he gave us some tips about riding in the desert. On the way out of town we passed a billboard that proclaimed in big letters “You Are Now Beyond Hope”. By now it was late afternoon, so we twisted the throttles a little harder during the 48 miles northwest on Hwy 72 to Parker, AZ which sits on the Colorado River south of Lake Havasu City, where the London Bridge has been transplanted. We got a little motel, turned on the air conditioner, and went to be since we wanted to get an early start in the morning. We rode 360 miles today.

Sunday July 6, 2003: We left the motel at 6 AM and crossed the bridge into California on Hwy 62. The road curved around through some sand dunes then we were back in the desert with some low hills in the distance. It was cool and there was no traffic so we made good time. About 20 miles into CA the road parallels a railroad track which is elevated about three feet. For about 20 miles people have stopped their vehicles, collected black and white rocks from the railroad track, and formed names, declarations of love, statements, and symbols in the sand as it angles from the desert floor to the railroad bed. It was almost unbelievable to me that so many people would be unconventional enough to spend the time doing that, and it sort of gave me a good feeling about the human race. Catherine collected rocks and made her initial in the sand.

A little further on, we saw a tree (the only one for 20 or 30 miles) and as we got closer we could see it was dead and covered with something. As I sped by it I saw shoes, so we turned around and pulled off the road under the “Shoe Tree”. People had pulled over, tied shoes together and flung them into the tree after writing their names, poems, and declarations of undying love on the soles. It was weird, but kind of neat. I guess people going through the desert get a little bored.

We rode on into Twentynine Palms, ate breakfast at Denny’s, and then took about 3 hours touring Joshua Tree National Park. It is a hot, dry place, but the visitor center is nice and informative and the scenery, especially the multitudes of Joshua Trees and the large rock formations, is pretty awesome. We hiked a 3 mile round trip trail up Mt. Ryan, where once again I confirmed that motorcycle boots are not made for hiking, and got a spectacular view of the surrounding valleys. After driving to the south entrance to JTNP we hit I-10 west a few miles, and then took Hwy 74 south and west over a tall mountain with really winding twisting curves into Hemet. We stayed on Hwy 74 around Lake Elsinore, and then we were in mountains with some great roads, hills, and curves for about 20 miles before dropping toward the Pacific Ocean into San Juan Capistrano. From there it should have been a short trip north on Hwy 1 to Laguna Beach, but I took a wrong turn so we ended up touring every housing development on the east side of the coast mountain range and sneaking up on Laguna Beach from behind. We made it to Catherine’s uncle Frank Wales’ house, said hello, cleaned up, and went for a nice supper at Carlos Mexican Restaurant. After supper and a nice visit we fell into bed after riding 350 miles today.

Monday July 7, 2003: We visited with Uncle Frank then he dropped us off in downtown Laguna Beach while he waited in line to get tickets for some friends to Laguna Beach’s “Pageant of the Masters” where local people recreate famous works of art by dressing up as the subjects and posing. We went when we were there in about 1987 and Uncle Frank got Joe a part in one of the scenes. It is hard to describe to someone who has never seen it but it is really amazing and beautiful. Catherine and I walked along the beach and checked out a lot of the art galleries and stores in town until Frank picked us up to meet his neighbor Ora Sterling and two of his longtime friends Dorothy and Jacqueline for brunch at Las Brisas, a very nice restaurant on the beach. We ate and visited for a few hours, and then Catherine and I hitched a ride with Ora to visit the Sawdust Art Festival, where she had a booth selling her ceramic masks, fruit, and fortune cookies that she makes in her home studio. We spent a couple hours there, then walked toward the beach and stopped at Laguna Beach Brewery for a couple beers before riding the trolley back to Frank’s house.

That evening we took a short tour of some of the coast areas and ate dinner at Jon’s Fish Market, and then met Ora for a nightcap at Frank’s house. The only riding we did today was on four wheels.

Tuesday July 8, 2003: We left Frank’s house at 6 AM amid goodbye hugs and handshakes from Frank and Ora and probably fist shakes from the other neighbors. Our plan was to head up Pacific Coast Highway (Hwy 1) and get an early jump to miss the LA traffic. I think we would have had to start a couple hours earlier to do that. I will say the drivers in California were for the most part very courteous to us Okies. Several times we needed to switch lanes and people let us in. So while the traffic was heavy, it just took a little patience to get through the LA area before we were on the relatively deserted PCH.

After getting through the worst of the traffic we stopped at Paradise Cove in Malibu for breakfast. It is an old restaurant on a private beach where lots of movies and TV shows have been filmed. The walls are decorated with lots of old photos of movie stars that are fun to look at. The food was good also. As noon approached and we thought the need for leathers would diminish, we found that they were more essential. Riding motorcycles along PCH is COLD! The water temperatures of around 57 degrees couple with an offshore wind makes for the world’s largest water cooler, and it’s an efficient one! The scenery was beautiful and spectacular, but we found ourselves looking forward to the brief interludes where the road went inland a few miles, where the temperature rose dramatically.

We stopped in the middle of the afternoon in San Simeon to warm up in a restaurant and the waitress told us she uses her fireplace more in the summer than the winter. As we walked down to the beach we saw some guys “kite surfing”. They have big kites that they control with their hands and surfboards attached to their feet. They scoot along the water and at time when they hit a wave and a gust of wind at the right time they soar 20 or 30 feet in the air. It was pretty neat to watch them.

Our plan had been to camp on the beach, but after enduring the cool temperatures all day camping just didn’t sound like a lot of fun so we rode into Monterey and got a room at the Steinbeck Lodge. Any of you who have read John Steinbeck’s “Cannery Row” probably have pictures in your mind of what it looked like. It doesn’t look like that anymore. It could now be called “Foo Foo Restaurant, Shop, and Bar Row”. There is still one rocky point that I could imagine the old guy standing on in the moonlight playing his horn. We ate at Fish Hopper Restaurant, then had a couple margaritas and listened to some good Blues at Sly McFly’s before falling asleep for the night. We rode 400 miles today.

Wednesday July 9, 2003: We got an early start and headed north on PCH. We stopped at a little convenience store to get gas and warm up a bit and an old (my age) hippy/surfer dude told us about a café in a little town called Pescadero off the coast a few miles that had good food. He also told us of a road further north that went up into the Redwood forest and along a road called Skyline Drive and back down to the coast south of San Francisco.

We rode to Duarte’s Tavern in Pescadaro, which is a little farming community, and had a great breakfast of green chili omelet. The hippy guy had said the little town was sort of like the one in “Northern Exposure” and from the patrons of the café, I wouldn’t disagree with him.

From there we rode back to Hwy 1, went north a few miles and took Hwy 84 east up into the mountains. The road was great and the scenery was gorgeous. At the junction of Hwy 84 and 35 we found Alice’s Restaurant, which you old hippies will remember as the title of an Arlo Guthrie song and movie back in the foggy 60’s. We stopped and I had an “Alice’s Mountain Ale”…..or two. They were playing old music and the atmosphere was really neat. We visited with a few bikers there before heading north on Hwy 35, then taking Hwy 92 back to the coast at Half Moon Bay.

From there it was a short trip into San Francisco and before we knew it we were riding over the Golden Gate Bridge. I really can’t describe how neat it was to ride across it. It is a grand structure and the view of San Francisco, the bay, and Alcatraz from it are breathtaking. The wisps of fog hanging over the bridge created a memorable picture in my mind.

The views along the coast had been very picturesque all the way, but it seemed like north of San Francisco the road became less traveled and the coastline was more rugged and beautiful. We saw a lot of seals and sea lions and birds. The contrast of the beach, the rocks in the water, the waves, the multicolored flowers along the road, and the golden grass covered hills east of the road with patches of green trees was spectacular. It’s a sight everyone should see. We made it up to Point Arena and checked into a little motel after riding 275 miles.

Thursday July 10, 2003: It was time to begin making our way back toward Oklahoma and since I had heard a strange noise somewhere around my rear tire the evening before, we decided to drop by Harley-Davidson of Ukiah, CA on our way east. We went a few miles north of Point Arena, waved goodbye to the Pacific Ocean and headed inland on a little unnumbered road. It quickly headed up into the mountains via a lot of sharp turns. It was a great ride with no traffic and occasional views of the valleys through the pine and redwood trees. We topped out then headed down the east side of the mountain. It was the first time on any road I’ve seen a sign announcing a 16% grade and instead of hairpin curve signs that change direction 180 degrees this road had signs that went almost 300 degrees and were posted 10 MPH. We came down into a little town called Booneville then picked up Hwy 253 which is another really good ride through smaller mountains and hills. We came out onto Hwy 101 south of Ukiah and headed into town.

While waiting for the Harley shop to open we ate breakfast at the Fork Café. It’s another little local place with nice people. Catherine ordered biscuits and gravy and the waitress asked if she wanted a half order. Catherine told her she wanted a full order, but the waitress told her they were really huge, so Catherine settled for a half order. After the waitress left she told me she bet that waitress just didn’t know how much she could eat. After the order came out she was glad she only got a half order which was one biscuit, because it was huge and it was all she could do to eat it. I had a Spanish omelet along with a biscuit and gravy. Everything was very good.

The people at the Harley shop were very nice and got my bike right in and found a rock wedged in the rear drive pulley. It had not damaged the pulley or the belt and within an hour we were back on the road. From what they all said if the rock had been more toward the edge of the belt it could have damaged it, so I was very lucky in that instance.

We took Hwy 20 southeast out of Ukiah around Clear Lake then got on Hwy 16 into Sacramento. The guy at the Harley shop recommended taking Hwy 20 all the way to Lake Tahoe, but I thought it had too much traffic and that Hwy 16 would be less congested. I made a bad choice for sure. The 25 or so miles into Sacramento were hot and the traffic through Sacramento was the worst we encountered on the whole trip. Once we got out of town it was still hot and dusty in the central valley. We stopped at a little town called Drytown (appropriate name) for some iced tea and water and a piece of pie and visited with a local rancher while we cooled off.

South of Drytown we picked up Hwy 88 and quickly got up into the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We passed several pretty little lakes and had a real good ride on into the south edge of Lake Tahoe where we got on up Hwy 50. We skirted Lake Tahoe which looked beautiful and rode on into Carson City, NV where we got a motel and ate a good old cheeseburger basket. We rode 385 miles today.

Friday July 11, 2003: Ever since I got my Harley I have wanted to ride Hwy 50 through Nevada, dubbed the “Loneliest Road in America”. I have read stories written by other bikers and even though I knew it would be stark and hot and dry, the thought of being out there for miles and miles without any other people appeals to me. Well, the loneliest road isn’t all that lonely any more. It sure wasn’t crowded, but we have been on much lonelier roads than this one. The scenery was stark, but there was never a time when there weren’t hills or mountains or ridges we were riding through or seeing on the horizon. About 50 miles east of Fallon we found another shoe tree. This one was larger and had more shoes. I found an article on the internet about it. Supposedly a newly wed couple had a fight one night and threw their shoes into the tree. A few years later they came back and threw some of their kids’ shoes into it. I guess the rest is history.

The temperature was great till about noon when we stopped at Eureka and ate a very good Chinese meal at the Eureka Café. The Chinese couple who run it have been there 32 years. I thought it kind of strange for a Chinese Café to be in the middle of the American desert, but the food was very good. Eureka looked like a neat town in some of the things I had read, but now it is sort of rundown looking. There was a little town called Austin west of Eureka that looked like a better place to hang out to me.

We rode on into Ely which is at a higher elevation and cooler and stopped at Gone Wild Motorcycles. We borrowed an oil drain pan there and changed our oil and had a good chat with the owner of the shop. He gave us some options on routes for the next stage of our trip, and I listened this time. From Ely we left the loneliest road and headed south on Hwy 93, which was lonelier. We stopped at Pioche and got gas and had a piece of pie at the Silver Café. Pioche looked like a nice little town. We turned east on Hwy 319 at Panaca and took it to Hwy 56 on into Cedar City, UT, where we got a motel for the night. I walked to Sullivan’s Café and had a good burger. Their pies looked awesome also. We rode 530 miles today.

Saturday July 12, 2003: The land formations we saw today are hard to describe. Some people might not call it pretty, but I think anyone would have to admit they are very interesting and awesome. Most of it is caused by wind and water eroding softer dirt away from harder rock leaving multicolored, weird shaped formations. The colors go from deep red to yellow to orange to gray to almost white and vary by the area one is riding through. We took Hwy 14 east and immediately got into some pretty red rock canyons. After about 18 miles we took Hwy148 north to Cedar Breaks National Monument. We visited the little visitor center then took a 2 mile hike which led to a point overlooking the large canyon filled with interesting rock formations. On this point we encountered something older than me. There were a cluster of Bristlecone Pines that were up to 1600 years old. They are all gnarled up, but they have a sort of graceful beauty to them.

We followed Hwy 148 north then took Hwy 143 east and north through some high scenic mountains. At Hwy 89 we rode south a few miles then took Hwy 12 east to Bryce Canyon National Park. We ate breakfast at Ruby’s Inn then rode through the park and stopped to view the canyon and its eerie formations at several viewing areas. We followed Hwy 12 east and north through the edge of Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, stopping at pullouts to get better views of the different colored bluffs, mountains, cliffs, and valleys that make up this area called Hell’s Backbone. Some of the vistas are 4 or 5 picture wide. At one point as we gazed in awe from atop a high ridge into a valley below a Harley ahead of us went through the valley and started up the other side between two rock cliffs. The sound as it reverberated through the valley was awesome.

We stopped in Escalante for gas and water and visited with a couple of bikers who invited us to a biker party that was going on in the mountains there that night. It sounded like fun, but by now we were beginning to, as always, realize there was more to see and do than we had time for. We headed north till we intersected Hwy 24, which took us east into Capitol Reef National Park. Here we found more large, formidable, awesome rock formations. It was hot by now, somewhere in the 100 degree range, but the low humidity made it feel pretty good on the bikes.

We continued east to Hanksville, where we stopped to fill up our tanks with gas and ourselves with fluids at Hollow Mountain. This is a convenience store built inside a huge red rock. 17 years ago a man bought it and began drilling, jack hammering, and dynamiting the rock hollowing it out and making his store larger. Now it is a nice sized store with very nice facilities. He is still blasting away making it larger. I expressed amazement at the feat, and was given the grand tour even into the area he is blasting now. We headed south on Hwy 95 next. The road was relatively flat and straight for a ways and was sort of fun after all the up and down, twisting roads we’d followed all day. Then suddenly we were back into huge gorges, canyons, and cliffs again as we approached the Colorado River where it begins to form Glen Canyon and Lake Powell. The ride down to the bridges crossing Dirty Devil River and the Colorado River was gorgeous with the climb up the south side equally nice.

This is the area Butch Cassidy and his Wild Bunch made famous as Robbers Roost, and it’s easy to see why lawmen were hesitant to follow him in here. We continued southeast on Hwy 95 and finally stopped for the night at a little motel in the middle of the high desert called Fry Canyon Lodge. It is a pretty place and I sat on the porch and drank a Dead Horse Ale (the label had the legend “You Can’t Beat A Dead Horse” on it) as the sun went down behind a red mesa to the west. We had an excellent meal in their dining room and turned in. We rode 350 miles today.

Sunday July 13, 2003: Once again we were up early and after traveling south on Hwy 95 for a few miles we took Hwy 261 south and came down off the high plateau via a steep winding road overlooking Valley of the Gods. This is a wide, low, mostly flat area dotted with weird shaped land formations rising from the valley floor. It is in the same general area as Monument Valley, and while not as large it has an eerie charm all its own, especially in the early morning with a light fog over it.

We took Hwy 163 east to Bluff where we ate breakfast at Twin Rocks Café under the watchful eye of Navajo Twin Rocks, two enormous red sandstone rocks which hang over the café. The food was very good there and the service was great. From Bluff we followed Hwy 163 east to Hwy 262 then onto Hwy 41 into Colorado. We intersected Hwy 160 and took it southwest across the spot where AZ, UT, CO, and NM meet and continued on into AZ. We then took Hwy 64 into NM. In about 30 minutes we visited 4 states, which I thought was neat in a quirky sort of way.

Hwy 64 took us to Shiprock, NM and from 30 miles away it is easy to see why Shiprock was a landmark for early travelers. It is a huge chunk of rock that sticks out of the high desert by itself. It was very impressive. We continued east on Hwy 64 through the high desert country. I have been on this highway when there was considerable traffic, but this being Sunday we pretty much had the road to ourselves and enjoyed the ride. About the time it started warming up pretty good, we began to climb into the mountains around Chama, so we were comfortable all day long. We stopped in Tierra Amarilla, not because we were really hungry, but because we had to taste their green chili, which we have found to be some of the best. Today it was a thicker, not as spicy version. I don’t know if they changed cooks or what, but it was not as good as usual. Catherine has been practicing with the green chilies in our garden and hers is better than what this was.

From there we stayed on Hwy 64 to Taos and Eagle Nest and north of Cimarron we stopped at Colfax Tavern in Cold Beer, NM to rest. I drank beer and visited with the proprietor and some of his patrons while Catherine drank water and visited and wrote down some of the songs she had been making up on the trip. We finally rode on into Raton and stayed at the Robin Hood Motel, which was very nice, neat, and friendly. We had a good supper at the little café next to the motel. We rode 480 miles today.

Monday July 14, 2003: We got up early and headed on the last leg of our journey. We stayed on Hwy 64 to Clayton, NM and as always enjoyed the ride between there and Raton. It is high plains country with old extinct volcanoes dotting the landscape and lots of antelope grazing the prairies. We ate breakfast at the Hi Ho Café in Clayton. It doesn’t sound like much, but the food was very good. From Clayton we took Hwy 87 through Dalhart and Dumas to Amarillo where we got on Hwy 287 going southeast. I had worried a little about going through California with our loud tailpipes and having trouble with the law there. As far as I could tell only a couple of policemen even looked twice at us. The only time we got stopped on the whole trip was in the little town of Estelline, TX just northwest of Childress. The local cop there stopped us and gave me some story about clocking Catherine going too fast, but for some reason it wasn’t official. The real reason he stopped us was to tell us about a little bike rally he and some of his riding buddies were having in a couple of weeks and to try to get us to come back out and bring a bunch of friends.

We continued on to Vernon and were making real good time till we miscalculated the space between fuel stops and Catherine ran out of gas at the Hwy 70 exit to Davidson, OK. I went back to Vernon and got some gas and after a little delay we were back on the road. We retraced our route back east on Hwy 70 and stopped at Two Frogs Grill in Ardmore to cool off before riding on home. We rode 585 miles this last day of our trip.

We had a wonderful trip. We wished we could have had several more days so we could have wandered and spent more time looking at the areas we visited, but on our trips we’ve found that is always the case no matter how much time we have. The riding was great as the route we planned was mostly through unpopulated higher altitude areas. The mornings were cool and we tried to make miles early, then slow down and stop often in the heat of the day. After visiting this country it’s easy to see why the Mexicans do the siesta thing in the afternoon. Even with it hot, the low humidity made the wind on the bikes feel good, and for the most part we were comfortable. The horror stories we had heard about California traffic and drivers proved to be untrue, at least for us. There was a lot of traffic in places, but most drivers were courteous, and once we left the major population areas the traffic flowed very well and made riding enjoyable.

In my mind, the myth of everything being bigger in Texas was proved false. California has a bigger ocean, bigger trees, more winding hilly bike friendly roads, and more shoe trees than Texas. If you like to ride more or less alone with an equal mix of awesome natural sights and time to think, the route we took is a good one. I know we sure enjoyed it.

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