Lili has always asked me to try long rides and proper overnighters, but I've always declined because I always seemed to have something else going on. When she first told me about this trip, I've decided to try it out but requested for a term to be met; that one of their riding buddies (Chuck) come along, and that he brings his Ducati instead of his Harley. I'll get to more of that in a bit.
Of course the real treat for me, and Lili's real bargaining chip(s), were roads that were on the route that I've always been told I should try, namely Highway 25 and Highway 166. In any case, I was in like Flynn, and the first order of business was to figure out how to sport-tour myself and my bike.
It didn't really take much since I didn't have much to work with. :)
The R1 and I, sport-toured.
A backpack here and a tank bag there made up my luggage. Three days and two nights, and I didn't really need much apart from a pair of jeans, a tee, a hoodie, and the basic hygiene stuff. Done. I may have gambled choosing to ride in my one-piece leathers instead of a leather jacket and my textile pants, but I've always felt that leather suits provided better regulation of body temperature, even in hot weather. It also insulates me better from the heat of the motorcycle than anything else, ultimately allowing me to conserve my stamina when on a ride.
Suffice it to say, the gamble paid off. :)
On Day 1, there were many stops to collect all of the crew, with the last stop being in Tres Pinos, just at the start of Hwy 25, where Chuck and his Ducati was waiting for us. Why the fuss with his Ducati? It isn't just any Ducati's - it was the Desmosedici RR. The street-legal replica of Ducati's full-blown MotoGP bike from 2006.
I was in good company!
I may be missing the Malaysian round of MotoGP that weekend, where the 2010 World Champion could be crowned (he was!), but to follow behind a full on GP bike for the next couple of days was more than consolation enough! And Chuck rides this thing, 21k miles on the clock and still counting.
Don't worry. I didn't embarass myself around Chuck and his Desmo (hereby referred to as ChuckandhisDesmo). I played it cool, like I always do. Whenever you're in the company of a supermodel, you don't ogle. You kick back and let them come to you. ;)
Highway 25
With Day 1 lunch down and the whole ensemble assembled, we headed down Highway 25. Prior to take-off, Lili warned me (or tried to get me excited) about the many areas in 25 to pin the throttle; no cops, no cars, nestled between the Central California mountains, and it meant that you could just top out on your bike if you want. Apparently, the lot of them liked pinning the throttle when they could, even Rob and Jane, who I invited to come along for a bit more familiarity for me for the weekend.
And pin it they did!
I got a bit of hazing for not following along the Hwy 25 ritual, and the only thing I could offer was that from the start of a road to its end, I tend to keep the throttle neutral as much as I can. Through its straights or corners. I don't know if this is a result of being a regular track rider, or a practitioner of The Pace in the streets (maybe both), but going fast on a straight line was never up my alley. All they can do was shake their heads at me.
In any case, Hwy 25 eventually compressed and twisted, and status quo was back to normal after everybody got their jollies vaulting themselves on the straights. I found myself back at the front just behind ChuckandhisDesmo. I wasn't really allowed in the back per the group because of my pace, but I needed ChuckandhisDesmo to be ahead because I had never been on the roads.
Highway 25 is pretty open - it isn't very technical which meant that with Chuck's throttle-pinning at every straight, he would eventually be too far ahead that I might as well follow my own line on this road I've never been in. I did just that, just enough to enjoy the road with a cushion of safety, and to ensure that Lili wasn't getting bored behind me. For the most part, it was mostly a group ride between me and Lili, while everybody else followed their own pace, until we would stop to regroup. 25 flowed well, and the only pucker-moment I had was nearly tucking the front through an infamous downhill right-hander that went on a lot longer than you thought it would. Chuck actually warned us about this turn beforehand.
Eventually, Lili and I came up on ChuckandhisDesmo parked, either waiting for Lili and I, or waiting for the whole group. He waved us off to continue on, and we did. It was still Lili and I for a few more miles doing our own thing. I have a habit of looking at my mirrors frequently (safely!) when somebody's behind me, just to make sure that they're still there. Many miles after passing ChuckandhisDesmo, and during one of my check-ups on Lili, I was startled by a flash of red passing me on the left on one of 25's many straights. It was ChuckandhisDesmo. I had JUST looked at my mirrors to check on Lili, and I could've sworn he wasn't there!
Damn throttle-pinning hooligans. :)
The rest between Hwy 25 and Peach Tree Rd.
Peach Tree Road and Indian Valley Road
At the end of Hwy 25, we forked over to Peach Tree Rd./Indian Valley Rd., relative goat trails compared to Hwy 25. They weren't true goat trails; just slower, tighter, and less developed than 25. I guess when you get your speed fix on 25, Peach Tree Rd./Indian Valley Rd. isn't a bad follow-up to relax the velocity senses.
From there we gassed up in San Miguel, where Jane was hit with an ailment and needed a few more moments before she can get back on the bike. She waved all of us to go on, while Rob stayed with her. We hopped on to Southbound Hwy 101, and pulled over immediately at San Marcos Rd. ChuckandhisDesmo actually had a different idea for roads to take on this leg, different from what was mapped out prior to the ride. I'm sure Rob and Jane wouldn't have had any idea, so I made sure to flag down Rob and Jane on the side of the freeway so they don't miss the turnout. They spotted me, but with Jane's bout of ailment, the two of them decided to just head straight to our hotels to recuperate. The rest of us went on to finish the last leg of roads for the day.
ChuckandhisDesmo took us through many more backroads, and I noticed that my bike started acting up, losing 5th and 6th gear. Up-shifting from 4th to 5th, and it seemed like the clutch would stick, the engine revving on the throttle but the bike wasn't moving. Same story if I upshifted to 6th. It was as if I still had the clutch disengaged when it would happen, even though I didn't. I rode the rest of the way in 4th gear until we stopped to regroup, then I decided to give test all the gears before we went on. 5th and 6th gear was back. I don't really know what was up with that.
We finished off the last leg of the roads by slabbing it on Hwy 1, the cool sea breeze cooling everybody and their bikes down. We arrive at Palomar Inn where we would be staying for the next two nights, and I proceed to tell Rob about my mechanical. After a number of musings, we kept it simple and he adjusted my clutch cable to give me some more play, effectively ensuring that the clutch was fully disengaged when it was. I distinctly rememember eliminating any clutch play when I installed my CRG Supersport clutch perch previously.
We wrapped up Day 1 with some Ale and the local pizza. I slept soundly that night from the day's riding, and I had no quip leaving my baby outside overnight, when the Desmosedici was just a few feet away from it. :)
Day 2 opened up clear with no morning or ocean mist at all, and I woke up relatively excited as we were due to head over to Solvang's Vintage Motorcycle Museum after lunch. My excitement grew even more when I learned that the museum housed one of the few Britten V1000's ever made. I've seen the documentary, but I had never seen the bike in person.
Highway 166.
Hwy 166 was the other road that Lili hyped me up on. Her and her crew had already done these routes before, so she once told me that all she could think of the last time she was on 166, was how I would like it. She figured this because she knows how much I love sweepers.
Well, the road swept alright, but it swept for too long and far for me to think anything of it other than being a regular highway (think 280). I hadn't even realized we were on 166 the whole time we were on it, cause I was waiting for the fun Lili promised!
The fun didn't come from 166. It came from somewhere else...
Tepusquet meant "must do more than once" in ancient moto-speak!
Now, I don't particularly like technical roads (i.e. Calaveras), cause my experience with a small number of them usually meant crappy road conditions. Couple this with being on a sportbike for most of my riding life and usually preferring faster paced roads, and I just never got the comfort through technical roads unless I was properly equipped (see: light, upright bikes).
But Tepusquet Road, oh, well, this is just the road that all technical roads dream of ever becoming. The first leg of it swept appropriately, like proper sweeping roads do. I was already elated at the start of the run, until the road became a one-lane road. Now instead of becoming crestfallen, it never registered to me. The pavement was in FANTASTIC condition, and visibility through the turns was more than adequate. I think that being on this side of the road that was running uphill also helped, but I just felt the road flow really well! Not to mention that whether by intent or not, ChuckandhisDesmo spent a lot of time just a few feet ahead of me, which meant that I was listening to the Desmo's glorious exhaust note the whole way up.
Just imagine that; you're on an absolute piece of roadriding heaven, and the soundtrack to your ride is a V4 Grand Prix bike fitted with race pipes.
I'm missing the Malaysian GP Round for this?
Why yes, goddammit, I am. :)
When we reached the other side of Tepusquet Road, even Rob had a shit-eating grin as he walked up to me, and neither he and I could stop gushing about that "little slice of heaven," as Rob had put it.
Unfortunately, this was also where ChuckandhisDesmo had to break off; ChuckandhisDesmo had a Buttonwillow trackday the next day, so he had to head home and prepare his pit for the next day.
I couldn't play it cool anymore. I hugged the Desmosedici goodbye, molestingly.
This is how I hug supermodels. One hand upskirt.
We continued on to Foxen Canyon Road to Hwy 154 where the turnout to Solvang would be, but we didn't head for the museaum until after some due lunch further up 154 off of Stagecoach Rd. in Santa Barbara; the Cold Spring Tavern. I remember riding through Stagecoach against the midday heat, and it was like hitting a wall of ice; the temperature dropped within a span of less than a yard from warm to chill. It was an amazing respite. :)
After some grub we packed up and headed back out 154 the opposite way and headed to Solvang for the Vintage Motorcycle Museaum. Admittedly, I didn't look up anyting about Solvang, and had mental pictures of a barren town, with the museum set on a piece of land surrounded by unpaved road.
Instead, Solvang looked like any normal town, and the strip where the motorcycle museum stood on had buildings and shops that were a barrage of colors to the senses. I could've sworn even the people wore colors I didn't think you could wear!
Rob and I molest the V1000 with our eyes.
You can't tell, but Rob's glasses were fogging up!
(photo courtesy of Lili)
Speaking of colors, I finally got to be inches from one of the most color-challenged, yet badass bike of all: The Britten V1000. Hand-made goodness that rivaled the Desmosedici. This was when I busted out a proper digital camera (all photos so far have been from my phone) and took as many photos as I could of the Britten. It was carbon-fiber galore, and engineering ingenuity ad nauseum. I won't post the proper photos though, cause I never share my porn. :)
Like kids at a candy store.
(photo courtesy of Lili)
I actually thought that we might have had a chance at getting back in time to our rooms to catch the MotoGP coverage at 2PM, but all the time I took up getting my fix from the Britten bike ate up that possibility. Still, we decided to slab it back to the Inn via Hwy 101 instead of doing the roads the opposite way we came in the morning. It's usually best to leave things at a high, and the ride through Tepusquet Road earlier was still like Cloud 9.
The calm before the storm. This photo was taken just before
Rob schooled me on all things 2-stroke and expansion chambers.
(photo courtesy of Lili)
We closed out Day 2 with a mountain of meats on our dinner plates, and with Rob and I musing trucking the bikes next time out to the Holy Grail of California roads: Highway 36.
Another adventure for another day...
Photo stop off Hwy 1.
(photo courtesy of Lili)
Day 3 was the ride home, and it was decided that we would just take Highway 1 all the way up to home. I thought it was perfect; after a weekend of riding through the Central and Southern Valleys, why not cap it off along the beautiful Pacific Coast Highway? Journalists write about riding this road and its cool sea breeze.
I'll just say, that Hwy 1 can't really be compared to other riding roads. It isn't going to be the best you can ride, nor the worst, and you can be hit-and-miss with the mass of traffic since it's just a single-lane road both ways. What sets Hwy 1 apart is the stunning view of the Pacific Ocean and the California coastline, squeezing the snaking road against the mountain ranges. Whenever we went through the winding parts of Hwy 1, I was torn between looking through my turns like I ought to, or looking at the neverending vista of natural beauty.
The whole ride through Hwy 1 induced more shit-eating grins.
One of many shit-eating grins on Hwy 1.
(photo courtesy of Lili)
Waiting to regroup at Big Sur.
At more familiar territory - Marina, CA
I had planned on going up Hwy 84 from Hwy 1 to really top off the weekend riding, but as we got closer to Hwy 17, I just thought about being in the comfort of home, and watch the Malaysian round of GP that I had Belle record for me the day before. So I signaled to Lili and the rest my intention, and I proceeded to terrorize the Monday weekday commuters on Hwy 17 as I tried to get home as quickly I could.
Home!
Sweet home!
I went to work the very next day. I was surprised to be in functioning condition; I thought the whole weekend would leave me so beat that I wouldn't want to do anything at all. Hell, I thought each day of riding was going to leave me sore the very next day. Yet really, all they did was gave me some of the best night's sleep I had, and made me grin at the whole experience of it all.
I didn't think I was going to write a ride report to be honest, I just thought of writing enough to post the random photos I took with my phone.
I guess I had a lot to say about the whole trip after all, not the least of which is how I am soooo looking forward to the next one.
Highway 36?
Maybe not quite just yet. :)
