This has been one of the more difficult ride reports to write, as they usually flow each evening as I retrace my thoughts. However, this oddity of a ride began with my dragging my feet, not literally but metaphorically as I was having a really slow start fraught with bizarre issues beginning with my possessed GPS unit. No, really, I’m certain some apparition took hold of the darned thing and told it, “Make this woman’s ride a folly.”
Every time I would attempt to ride a scenic motorcycle hottie of a road, it would make me do a U-turn and change routes. Now, not knowing the areas I was traveling, I wasn’t sure if the damned thing was lying or not, and rather than take a chance of ending up somewhere unusually odd I instead got plenty of U-turn practice.
Speaking of odd, the route Mr. GPS suggested through Livermore, was the worst. It took me forever to get through that place and in lousy traffic as well. I must say that along with U-turn practice, I also got plenty of lane sharing drills, all the while I kept repeating to myself, “I will not drop kick this device, I will not drop kick this device,” until I finally had enough speed to have forgotten about it all together. C’est la vie.
Sac Delta
Mr. GPS didn’t take all my fun to U-turn land. I did get to ride Calaveras Rd. Which is simply delightful. It’s one twisty after another as you ride along a ridge above a reservoir of the same name. After fighting traffic in Livermore, this was just what my Bandit needed, to say nothing of my internal works. I could finally put a smile back onto my face and do some real riding. That was until I somehow ended up back on 101 and into a serious (is there any other kind) traffic jam. Lane splitting prevailed yet again, until there were semi-trucks in both lanes. I applied the brakes and called game over, it was too narrow and I was too chicken to try to dart between.
Night was rapidly slapping down the day and I was not even to Paso Robles when darkness ruled and Hwy 46 was my road to Cambria. I couldn’t imagine the challenge of Santa Rosa Creek Road after sunset. Even cute little Cambria seemed ominous in the dark, with little action in town and less out where I stayed for the night. Phew, I had finally made it to my motel room, whose parking lot was being repaved…hmmm, it somehow figured. Then there was that little detail of the room without a proper heater. I slept in my silk robe…thank you Holly!
The Bandit seems to find a space mate wherever we stay
Morning at the Redwood store in Cambria
Cheesy, but I couldn’t help myself
Ahhhhh, a new dawn and with it frost on the bike! I had coffee and loaded up after trying to call the proprietors of Nit Wit Ridge for a tour. I wasn’t able to book a tour, but the short ride up to see the place was well worth the deviation from my route. I can freely admit to not having seen another quite like this home.
Nit Wit Ridge considered by many to be a fine example of folk art is also a California State Historic Landmark. Built by one man Arthur Harold Beal, over the course of 51 years, Nit Wit Ridge is made entirely out of junk and recycled materials. You really have to see it to believe it.
Downtown Cambria
From castle to goat, the Bandit and I headed toward Bakersfield over Santa Rosa Creek Rd and what a sweet find. With just enough goat to keep you alert and dose after dose of extreme scenic beauty, this road was a real treat! It was definitely a new day.
I didn’t expect much from Hwy 58, after all it was traveling through farm/ranch land. However, I was quite surprised when just when I thought I was going to be bored stiff I discovered miles of tight twisties and crazy elevation changes. 58 was a fun road, although after the fact and when I finally reached some cell service, I discovered I had missed what my husband Gary referred to as the “best road in California, Rossi’s Driveway, Hwy 229. Oh well, guess I have to go back and have a “do over”.
Again Mr. GPS tricked me to the wrong address, only this time it was my fault for choosing the wrong Starbucks. When I finally arrived my friend Mark (Law Dawg) was waiting patiently and I was treated by the Scotsman to a Starbuck’s coffee! Now, where’s the phone number for the Guiness Book of World Records? :lol It was wonderful to visit with an old friend and relax before heading to Palmdale and the night’s destination, my friends Marion and Kris’s home.
Santa Rosa Creek Road
