Author: Mike

Happy Birthday to You
You live in a zoo
You look like a monkey
And you smell like one too.

😉

Guess who’s birthday it is today? Annnnneeeeeeeeee, my love! Ann turns a ripe old age of the finest whiskey today, so what better place to celebrate than in a valley where hints of mortality surround. The Furnace Creek Ranch is a pretty ritzy place for our modest lifestyle, but you only turn 53 once, so we checked in for three nights to celebrate and to explore the valley.

Ann’s only wish was to drink good wine from actual stem glasses, and given that we have almost no additional space to carry anything on the bikes, this became her present. Unfortunately no glassware was to be had (aside from stealing it from the kitchen), but I did find these lovely onyx goblets for sale, along with some descent California wines. I think she was happy.

The next day we headed off to Badwater, the actual lowest point in Death Valley. Like all the rest of the area, it is a strange and outlandish place. The area is a salt encrusted basin at 282 feet below sea level. When the torrential rains come, as they very occasionally do, all the water eventually ends up here. The water table itself is not too far down, so the water lifts salts from the land and deposits it as vast salt beds as the water recedes. The effect is stark and otherworldly.

   

After Badwater we drove back to where we had passed the sand dunes the day before. These are honest to goodness, Lawrence of Arabia/Tatooine style desert dunes right here in Death Valley. We walked for miles (OK, Ann walked for miles, I walked for a kilometres 😉 ), exploring this unexpected find.

   

After exploring the dunes we headed back to the Ranch to carry on the birthday girl’s celebration with a fine dinner, and then more wine on our deck. Our last day was spent relaxing, searching for what to do next, and then exploring the immediate area on foot. We found an old date palm grove that had seen better days, and revelled in the good beer, pizza and funny X-mas mood of this oasis in the desert.

 

     

 

Tomorrow we head for (gulp) Las Vegas. I was really hoping to avoid it, but weather is still cold (lows around 0C) and it has the cheapest places around. So I shall gird my loins and enter into yet another valley of death.

We left our comfy motel in Bakersfield and headed east into the dry hills and mountains that lead to Valley known as Death. In our usual attempt to avoid big, fast freeways, we took the path-less-travelled, up over the ranges that led first to a Lake Isabella. The signs of California’s long drought are all around us now. The Lake, which is a major reservoir for the area, and was once a large recreational waterway, has shrunk to 5% of it’s total capacity. You can clearly see the high water marks way up the valley, and compare it to the puddle of lake that now remains.

Our journey that day took us through some of the most stunning vistas and stark landscapes I have yet known. Of course, this is but a warm up for the big show of Death Valley, but it is all amazing, harsh and beyond anything I’ve seen before. On our way down from Lake Isabella we started to see the funniest looking stout trees … or are they cacti? Turns out there are known as Joshua Trees and are type of yucca plant. Named by Mormons after some bible guy, these are yet another bizarre addition to the strange and disturbingly alluring landscape we are now passing through. That night we ended our journey in the town of Ridgecrest.

 

        

The next morning we truly began our climb up, and then down, down, down into the lowest place in North America. Death Valley is 282 feet below sea level at its lowest point. But to get there we had to drive up and over a mountain pass that topped out at over 5,000 feet! It was a long steep and chilly climb up, and then a fun and fast drive down to the bottom of the world.

Our first stop was Stovepipe Wells, which is little more than a gas station and gift shop. Great place to refuel the bikes and ourselves though. It was bizarre to see the altitude signs drop from 2,000 feet to 1,000 to Sea Level, and then beyond. After a lunch of bread and Tillamook cheese we headed off for our final destination of Furnace Creek. Along the road there we passed by strangely coloured cliffs, sand dunes, and a bizarre landscape shaped by wind and flash floods. We arrived at the Furnace Creek Ranch and took up residence in the only oasis of this huge valley. 

 

We finally pulled out of the Monterey area and headed south once again. We passed through Big Sur, famous for big vista and big surfable waves, and made our way down the coast to San Simeon State Park. After nearly a month of motels we finally pulled out the camping gear and found a small spot under a tree in a state park.

The landscape has truly turned foreign and weird. Palm trees are now common, and I spotted my first of many real live wild cacti. The trees in the campground were all unknown pines … and they were short. Too short to hang our food bag from. Luckily the hiker/biker campsite had a food box, which kept the racoons, skunks and other small critters from eating our dinner.

Although the highway separated our campground from the ocean, there was a short path under the road which led to the beach. As usual, the view was stunning, and hard to put into words. Instead, I’ll let the  Ann-o-rama (thanks Arin 🙂 ) speak for us:

While at the campsite we met some interesting people, including a young couple who are bicycling to Argentina from BC. She was from Quebec and he from France, and together they were peddling their way down in the cause of sustainable agriculture. Fascinating and fun folks. They even expressed some appreciation for our little journey (humouring the old folks, no doubt). Check out their website. http://www.semeenselle.com.

This area of the California coast is amazing, not just for its beauty, but also for being the location of Hearst Castle (a la William Randolph Hearst, the 19th and early 20th century newspaper magnate and inspiration for the classic, Citizen Kane). But the real highlight is the hundreds of elephant seals that have come ashore to begin their birthing and mating season. It was an incredible sight to see these massive animals in their actual habitat, doing what they do. For females it was mostly sleeping, birthing and nursing, barking, and fending off the unwanted advances of teenage males. For the younger males it was a lot of growling, displaying and practice fighting.

I was all excited to see the young males, but then one of the volunteer guides explained that those were just kids playing. Then she pointed out a real Alpha Male. He was massive, with a and huge trunk that put the youngins to shame. We learned the alphas can weigh in at  5,000 pounds. The mature females are a tiny 1,800 pounds in comparison.

While we were there we got to see a scene right out of a nature documentary. At one point an uppity male tried to put the moves on one this big guy’s females. He came charging over, growling and displaying his full form. He then proceeded to scatter the whole beach of all the lesser males. Everywhere he dragged his massive bulk all the other seals, both male and female, would scatter. We spent a couple of hours just watching and being amazed by these bulky water denizens. We were even treated to the view of the first newborn of the season.

As we were getting ready to head back to camp a volunteer asked if we had stopped to see the zebras  … Err, what now!?! Apparently the same maniacal builder of castles, also had a thing for zebras. Hearst had a bunch brought over from Africa, and then now roam the area ranch land, mixing with the cattle. Low and behold, as we drove back to camp what do we spy but a bunch of black and white stripped horse-like things in amongst the cows. Had to stop and take a picture:

The time along the coast has been spectacular, but new adventures call, and it is time to turn our backs to the sea and start heading inland. We spent one last evening smelling the salt air and enjoying the surf and animal life.

    

We packed our tent, our bags, and our bikes, and after one more short run along the coast we turned east and headed into the dry California hills. Our route took us right over the infamous San Andreas fault line, which is the likely location of the west coast’s future shoreline after the next Big One comes. It also took us through what will no doubt become the norm for a while: a dry, dusty, and almost alien landscape.

We arrived in Bakersfield, and not finding any suitable campsites we checked into yet another cheap motel. We’re working on getting up, and then down into Death Valley. This is no small feat at this time of year for those of us on motorcycles. We have to get up and over a couple of mountain ranges, before we can take the deep plunge into the deep dry valley. A weather window is opening on the weekend though, so we’ll linger here till Saturday. We can catch up on laundry, and enjoy the pub that is within easy stagger distance. It has $3 IPA on tap, plus great food, all at cheap prices. Gotta love happy hour!

 

We left San Francisco and headed back to the coast. Although we had to suffer through about a 1/2 hour of freeway travel, we quickly got back onto more sensible and interesting roads. The highway turns slow and twisty as we climbed up, and then rode down, the smaller coastal mountains all the way to the sea. It’s almost redundant to keep saying, but the scenery was once again breathtaking. A short stop at no place in particular gives just a small taste.

With temperatures still way below normal (record breaking lows for around here), we once again moved into a cheap motel. And with American Thanksgiving the next day, we decided it wise to stay put for two nights. This motel is like all the others; perfectly acceptable in function and cleanliness, with just a wee hint of a cat-pee smell. Ah well, you get what you pay for 😉

We got checked in, and after a short chat with one of the other guest couples who were in the middle of a round-the-world tour to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary, we headed off to explore our surrounds. A short walk took us to a nearby park, and then eventually down to the beach.

We’re now far enough south that the flora and fauna are becoming increasingly weird. Lots of palm and cacti-type plants are around, and there are odd birds of all sorts. Even the not-so-odd ones look a bit different. We saw

 

long-snouted plovers , dark coloured pelicans , and odd-ball ducks . And lots of palm trees:

Turns out American Thanksgiving is a BIG DEAL, with lots of travellers and visitors. Campgrounds threaten to be busy and hotels/motels are both loaded and expensive. After some online snooping we realized the motel we are in was our cheapest option, so we got comfortable, and booked in here for a few more days. Our room has a fridge and microwave, so we cooked our second Thanksgiving dinner of the year. Yum, yum.

 

The forecast calls for Freezing Warnings, and Hard Freezing Watches, which around here means two hours of temperatures of -2˚ to -3˚C. They warn to cover sensitive vegetation and not to leave pets or animals outside. It may not sound that cold, but this is around 10˚C below the normals, which makes it still a bit too chilly for camping. In fact, it looks like we’re even breaking some record lows.Temperatures are slowly returning to normal over the coming few days, so hopefully our tent will see some use soon. Meanwhile, we enjoy the surroundings:

       

Folks are friendly and warm here. We had one guy pass us by and comment, “You look like you’re contestants in the show Survivor.” I think he was referring to Ann. What do you think?

After leaving the Giants we headed to a nearby small town where we hoped to find a cheap, sleazy motel. Unfortunately we found almost nothing … a near ghost town. But the day was still young, so we decided to Press On! We left highway 101, which was a freeway at that point, and headed back toward the coast down highway #1.

Holy Schmoly, what a ride! Big tough bikers like us love windy, twisty roads, and we’ve had our share of them coming through BC. This road beats them all!! (yes, a double-!!). From the moment we started it was steep, it was dark, and it was full of quite literally hair-pin turns. Forget all those friendly and useful signs warning of tight curves … everything was a tight curve. The road was rock face on one side and drop off on the other. Too much fun.

We finally got down to the coast road and headed south, aiming for Fort Bragg. The fog, which had come and gone through the day, was now as thick as soup. Visibility was down to naught, but as long as we kept ocean to starboard we were all fine. All along this drive we could hear the ocean more than we could see it, which added a surreal quality to the drive. Eventually making it to town, we found a cheap place, and checked in for the night. A Happy Hour beer and dinner, checked emails, made plans for the next night, and then it was off to bed.

Weather remaining uncooperative, we planned to stay in the San Francisco area for two nights. And just for the record, the normal highs are 18C and the normal lows are 11C. Instead we are getting highs of 11C and lows of 3C. What happened to global warming 😉 In any case, we packed up and headed off for another great ride along the coast.

The first part of the day was nearly as twisty and challenging as the day before. The highway snakes its way along the coast. The mountains come right down to the water, so we were running through foothills; not massive peaks, but still significant ups and downs. Every valley and river that emptied into the ocean produced a steep switchback down and back up, with hairpin turns and steep drop offs. Much fun, but also quite taxing. Breathtaking views throughout.

 

Unfortunately we had to leave the coast to head inland to pick the freeway into San Francisco. Freeway travel is fast, efficient, and no fun at all. 65 mph is 105 km/hr which is fine for our bikes, but no joy for this rider. But it did get us into town fast. The highlight, of course, was coming up to, and then driving over, the Golden Gate Bridge. I wish I could include a picture of us doing this, but it can’t be done. Just imagine the big bridge, then imagine tons of fast moving traffic, and then imagine two little motorcycles putting along in the midst of all the mayhem. It was kinda scary, but pretty cool.

Our route took us through the heart of San Francisco, so we got a good view of the city. Our cheap motel was actually in San Mateo, which is a suburb of San Francisco. With Ann leading the way, and a little luck, we managed to find our way through the city and to our new home. It is quite close to a freeway, but it is also within an easy walking distance of the bay and a great park.

   

Tomorrow we plan to leave the city. Not sure where we’re going  …

Ahhh, do you feel the warmth? The warmth of the California sun?? Actually, I didn’t feel it either as the weather continues to be unseasonably cold along our route. We’ve been moteling it since we left Victoria, which was definitely not the plan. Checking the seasonal norms for our areas confirms it. We’re supposed to be in the mid to high teens for highs, and the low teens for overnight temperatures. Instead we’re getting cold front after cold front, bringing lots of rain and temperatures 10 degrees C below normal.

All this is to say we’re not complete wimps 😉

Anyway, we said goodbye to Oregon and crossed into the great state of California. Just over the border we came to a check stop which looked every bit like an international border crossing. The signs warned that everyone had to stop for an agricultural inspection, but we were just waived through. I suspect the “agriculture” they are looking for has something to do with Oregon decriminalizing marajuana. I guess we didn’t look hippyish enough 😉

We passed into the Eureka state unsearched, but with a little bit of sadness. Oregon has been so amazing, it felt sad to leave. But we have to get south, and the famous giant Redwoods of California beckoned. And we were soon rewarded as we passed through Redwood National Park. These trees are immense. When we camped on Vancouver Island near Parksville we lived in the midst of huge Douglas Firs, but they would be dwarfed by the Redwoods. Some looked to be three meters in diameter, and a hundred feet tall. Just amazing. And this was just a small taste of what was to come.

After lingering for a while in the midst of these giants we got back on the bikes in search of the night’s temporary home. Unlike most days, we had set out without a specific night’s plan. We booked no rooms, and didn’t know where we’d end up. Eureka the City (as well as the state’s slogan or motto or something…) looked promising on the Google, but when we got there it turned to be rather ugly. “Let’s Press On!” says I, so Ann our fearless leader for the day, took us off into unknown lands.

Highway 101 that we’d grown to love since Washington was slowly transforming into a freeway, complete with multi-lane traffic and speed limits of 65 mph, which translates into WAY TOO FAST! Ann spots a turn off, and we head into the unknown; towards a place called Ferndale. Turns out Ferndale is a touristy getaway for those who crave a victorian lifestyle. Most of the downtown buildings have preserved this old design, making it a quaint little city.

Our hotel had the same Victorian charm, luckily at off-season prices. It was charming, as was the owner who notices our Canadian accent. A very friendly fellow, just like virtually everyone we’ve met along this journey so far. That evening was spent in the local tavern, sipping area IPAs, and enjoying the company of friendly strangers. We finished the night with a takeout pizza and a glass or red wine.

The next day we headed off to drive the “Avenue of the Giants” through Humboldt Redwoods State Park. I figured we had already seen the big ones, but as is so often the case, I don’t know squat! The park claims to contain the world’s largest remaining contiguous old-growth forest of coast redwoods. I believe it.

It’s simply impossible for me to adequately match words and images to the immense, awe inspiring nature of these trees and this forest. You can feel their size; their sense of history. It is where myths are born. It is simply amazing.

 

 

We finished the visit with lunch in the park, then packed up and headed towards our evening home which had yet to be determined…

 

 

We spent a couple more wet and wild days huddled in our Rockaway hideaway , but eventually the storm abated and the sun came out . It was time to move on. So we packed all our worldly belongings back onto our two small bikes, and once more headed south. On friends Cathie and Joe’s recommendation, we planned to drive the three-capes route out of Tillamook, but when we got to the town we were halted by barricades and police cars. Turned out the main street of Tillamook, including numerous other roads, were flooded. This is highway 101 — our route! Luckily there was a non-flooded detour that took us around the town and past the cheese factory. We did manage to pick up the scenic route around most of the capes, and only had to drive through one short section of flooded road — still kinda scary though.

The whole coast is absolutely amazing. Beaches as far as the eye can see, with stunning vistas, craggy “haystack” rocks, and big rolling seas. It became hard to photograph, because it’s all so amazing.

The wet and windy drive this day took us to our next cheap motel on the outskirts of Yachats. We pulled up and were greeted by a couple of cute corgi dogs, and two very friendly women who turned out to be mother and daughter and owners of the place. Ann had booked us the cheapest option, but we’d hardly started chatting before being asked: “Would you mind if we upgraded you to an ocean view, for free of course.” Did we mind??? Well let me think… 🙂

After settling in we walked the short hop down to the beach. This area of the coast has what looks like sandstone cliffs lining the shore before it drops down to the beach and ocean . Strolling down the beach in the rain we noticed this circle of gulls around what looked like a log or a rock on the beach. As we got closer it became clear this was no rock. It was a beached whale!

We learned from the motel owners the whale had washed up on the beach about a month earlier. It was left, as per the law, to naturally rot, and from the odour it was definitely doing just that. I’m sure a whale person could tell what kind it was. All I know is it was big, and beautiful in a dead-and-stinky sort of way.

The beach held other wonders as well. The recent storms had beached a dead seal, a large round fish, and tons of large kelp structures. It’s a constant reminder of how alive the oceans are.

 

 

The next day brought another drive along the coast, with days end at Brookings near the southern edge of Oregon. As usual we had booked a cheap room via one of the online tools. This motel, like many that we end up in, is run down and old, with just enough spit and polish to make it presentable. But the beds and rooms are clean. It’s warm, dry, and relatively cheap. And the mushroom dealer who’s set up shop below is just a bonus 🙂

Actually, it was quite interesting … this dealer is a travelling mushroom buyer who sets up temporary shop in various locations from Alaska down through BC, Washington and Oregon to buy mushrooms from local pickers. And no … it’s not THAT kind of mushroom. He buys the fancy, weird looking ones that mushroom aficionados rave about: morels, chanterelle, cauliflower, etc… We got a guided tour of his operation. Fun, fun.

After settling in for the evening we took a stroll around the town, taking in the sights and looking for good, cheap beer and food. Ann’s new addition is IPAs. It’s not the booze she craves, it’s the bitter crisp taste of a tangy tough ale. We’ve also discovered the joys of Happy Hour! From about 1600 to 1800 bars discount booze and nibbles. Beer is 2/3rd the price and they usually have a selection of cheap appetizers, which strung together can make a very satisfying meal at a fraction of the cost.

But on our way to IPA bliss two wonderful things happened. First is that we saw our first naturally-growing palm trees. Ya Who! And the second was that Ann decided to try and earn some extra bucks with a strip show in the bar. Actually, it was just a hot flash, but it was FUNNNNNNYYYYYYYY.

Another nights slumber and we were off to California to visit the Land of the Giants.

The weather did indeed turn wet and wild. So much so that our three day hotel stay has now turned into a six day refuge. This whole coast has been battered with one front after another, including gale-force winds and rain levels measured in inches! Luckily our little “resort” is quite cheap in this very off-season, it has a full kitchen, and there are nearby food & beer stores with a good selection of local craft IPAs, so life is good.

Our hotel is right on the beach, although our room only has “partial” view … at a “partial” price. Still pretty stunning, and the shore is only a 100 meters or so away. The truly lousy weather has kept us room-bound most of the time (me more than the Mighty Annabelle), but we have been out on the beach many times. The wind and waves have been tremendous. The huge beach pretty much disappears during high tide. It is ferocious, and powerful, and dangerously beautiful.

     

It rains, it pours, the wind howls, and it even hails, but we remain warm and dry … except when Ann ventures out for more beer:

 

Yay! Ann!!!

At this point we’ll be here for a couple more days. A weather window opens at that point and we’re going to run south. Winter is starting to catch up to us, so we must get south, South, SOUTH!

We left Ocean Shores and made a quick stop at a couple of banks. We tried the same one from the previous day, and it still gave us the big thumbs-down on our debit cars. Okay… a little concerning. But at the next ATM a few blocks away all the lemons lined up and we hit the jackpot! Looks like we can access our cash. Costs a crazy amount in fees and exchange rates ($360 US = $480 CND), but whaddyagonnado?

We headed down highway #101 once again, this time aiming for the famous Cannon Beach. But to get there we had to first cross the mighty Columbia River on the border of Washington-Oregon. The ride was once again a great one, with snaky roads and amazing forest and ocean views. The crossing to Astoria, which is the first place in Oregon, was via the Astoria – Megler Bridge, a 6.6 km expanse that rises 60 meters (at high tide) above the river. According to Wiki, the bridge is “the longest continuous truss bridge in North America.”

Astoria looked like a rather interesting city, although we didn’t spend any time exploring. A quick lunch and we were off again, heading to Cannon Beach. The days are short right now, which means we have about five hours of quality travelling time. As has also become the norm, we are looking at a rather bleak weather forecast, with heavy rains and winds predicted for the next few days. This was enough to convince us to seek luxury shelter once again in a motel. We found another inexpensive place online, right in Cannon Beach with a view of Haystack Rock.

Cannon Beach is stunning. Our friends from Rossport (Selim to be exact) told us we had to spend time here. And we always listen to Cathie and Joe. As always, they were so right. Haystack Rock towers some few hundred feet up from this wide Pacific beach. But it’s not the only structure. There are “Needles” all around it, and both directions there are more rugged islands and promontories. It truly is a wondrous part of the world.

    

We spent three nights tucked into our comfy little apartment on the main street in Cannon Beach. We had a little kitchen, so managed to cook our own meals, while sipping wine/beer, all the while getting a great view of the Rock and some of the beach. It was a rainy few days, which was our excuse for further luxury living, but it was well worth it.

Over the last few days Ann had been noticing a slight wobble developing in her front end. Added to that, her bike was doing some weird things too 😉 so we reluctantly decided the wise choice was to head into Portland and find a motorcycle shop to take a look at it. This would take us away from the coast, and into the colder, urbany areas. But wisdom won out over Mike’s fears, so the next day we loaded up and headed inland.

Ann found both a Vespa shop and a pretty cheap hotel just outside of Portland in a place called Oregon City. The drive over took us through some stunning lush forests, although things got rather cool as we passed over various heights of land. There were signs warning “Entering Snow Country”, which signals that we can’t stay here long. It’s approaching mid-November, and we may be pushing our luck with the weather.

The bike shop was closed the day we arrived, so we booked the hotel for three days, and settled in for yet another comfy few nights. Gotta love this easy life. The view from our balcony overlooks the Willamette River, a tributary of the Columbia that runs through Portland all the way down to the ocean. Turns out we’re not that far from the Pacific because there are real tides here of over 10 feet at times.

We took a stroll around our area. There’s a small commercial area right next to our hotel, complete with pubs, small shops, and a city elevator to take people up the hill. 

Turns out Oregon City is home to Willamette Falls, “the largest waterfall in the American Pacific Northwest by volume, and the seventeenth widest in the world,” according to all things Wiki. Unfortunately it seems to be surrounded by old industry, including a working paper mill. We did manage to get a view of it, but just.

Another surprising thing we got a view of were a couple of lounging sea lions or perhaps female elephant seals. We first saw this brown gunny-sack looking thing on a raft and thought it was just a bag … but then it moved! And then we saw a second one swimming lazily nearby. Neither had a care in the world, except to be annoyed by the two of us yapping and gawking at them from above.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ann’s front end looks great — as usual 😉 so with a clean stamp of approval from the Vespa dealer, who didn’t even charge anything for his 1/2 hr of time – thanks Vespa Milwaukie! We were once again ready to resume our trek south. Looking at the forecast once again brought a tear to my eye (and the sense of pending rain in my pants). 

Our area is facing a RAINFALL WARNING over the next few days. For a place used to getting lots of rain, this is significant. Amounts up to 5 inches — that’s over 12 cm — of rain are predicted. Oh joy… So, we’ve wimped out again, and have booked yet another hotel room for the next few days. At least we’ll be back on the Pacific shore.

Ocean Shores captured us. Well, to be more accurate, we looked at the coming weather, and given the unmovable and ineradicable desire by certain travellers of the female persuasion to spend days in Cannon Beach, we found ourselves staying another night here on “the shores.” A wonderful choice it was. It forced us to upgrade to a room with a view, and let us go a-wanderin’ around the little town.

After blowing all our American $ on breky, and then discovering our debit cards are not working 🙁 we found a local grocery store, then went wondering down on the beach. What a stunning place this is.

 

The beach is a long sloping swath of sand that goes on for miles and miles (not km and km … I’m learning to speak “American”). We hit it near low tide, so could walk a long way out. As always, the life, the smells, the breath of it all, is just amazing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now it’s back to the hotel for dinner, good beer, and yummy times with my sweets.