On The Road, Pt. IV

It was now Monday, the day I'd be getting into San Diego.  I spent most of the previous evening drying out my clothes using a combo of the iron and hair dryer.  It worked... Sort of.  What really worked best was putting my socks in the microwave.

Anyway, I pulled the blinds open in the morning and was greeted with more rain.  How could it rain this much?  It has to stop some time, right?

Well, this morning wasn't that time.  It rained all through breakfast and all the while I packed up my bike.  The highlight of the morning wasn't the omelet I had (it was good, though), it was a chance meeting in an elevator.  I walked in the elevator carrying all my stuff and the guy in there told me he once rode a motorcycle from Hollywood back to Pittsburgh.  Pittsburgh?!  That's the second person from my old turf I met on this trip.  Weird and wild stuff, that.

I made my way through the rain to a nearby gas station, fueled up for the ride to Prescott and prepared to get wet.  I wasn't 45 minutes into the day and everything was already soaked.  Lovely.

Mercifully, the rain ended when I got on Arizona 89A, the winding road that would take me to Prescott.  The road was still very wet, though, which meant I couldn't fully exploit the twisty bits or the empty road in front of me.  At least it was warming up.

Like a ghost in the night, a great number of switchbacks appeared on the road.  The scenery and the tight road tore at my concentration, delighting and denying me at the same time.  The road snakes, dips and climbs through an amazing canyon.  It's an absolute delight, almost to the point of wanting to turn around and ride it a few more times.  The Bonneville's handling also continued to impress; this section was a blast in the wet on a packed-up bike.

As quickly as it appeared, the canyon was gone.  The road  flattened out and gently wove through the forest.  Every so often a small motel or cabin would appear on the side, showing some semblance of civilization.  Aside from this, it was you and the trees.

As I broke through the trees into Sedona, AZ, I was greeted with a panoramic view of biblical proportions.  There were sunken canyons, high, spiraling mountains; trees, rocks and buildings sharing the same space.  The architects built Sedona around the geological features; instead of dominating the land, the builders incorporated it and created something beautiful.

Above this wondrous scene was the best sight of all: dissipating clouds and blue sky.  The sun even made an appearance.  I had come through 300 miles of rain and misery to be greeted by a sight of extreme beauty.  It was totally worth it.

I fueled up in Sedona and headed toward the mountains.  As I got closer, the road dried and the sun took command over the sky.  One of the highlights was Jerome, AZ, an old mining town built into the mountain.  Suddenly, I was in the Apennines, snaking through the town's narrow streets, tight corners and stucco buildings.  It was like being transported to another country, if only for a brief moment.

Dancing the curves of the mountain brought me to Prescott, AZ, finally.  I fueled up, got lost and then finally found my way down the mountain.  Further increasing my reward were more mountain roads and more gorgeous scenery.  Coming down the mountain brought incredible views of the desert floor.  The desert spread out like an enormous blanket, covering everything up to the horizon.

At the bottom was a little place called Congress, AZ.  This place consisted of a gas station and a Family Dollar.  That was it.  As I was getting gas, I suddenly realized something: I was very hot.  I was so busy concentrating on the road and the scenery, I didn't notice the temperature went from the low 60s to the mid 80s.  The windbreaker that had saved me yesterday was now clinging to me like a frightened child.

Free of bondage, I set off across the flat and straight desert.  It's here that one can truly grasp the vastness of the U.S.  There was nothing, I mean nothing, but scrub and dirt for miles and miles.  The road was so straight I could have set the throttle and taken a nap.  The desert was not without excitement as a number of vultures took flight directly in front of me.  I had to lay flat on the tank to miss them and if I was in a car, they would have splattered across my windshield.

The flat desert gave way to I-10, the road that would take me to California.  I-10 was more of the same except with more trucks.  A stop for gas and an awful lunch got me ready for the final push.  The trip down I-10 was a boring exercise in dealing with hot wind blast and boring scenery.  I was thankful when it ended.

A stop for fuel in Palm Desert, CA meant the end of the desert.  San Diego was just on the other side of the mountain.  While filling up in Palm Desert, I again realized I was very hot.  I was sweating not even doing anything.  Unfortunately, I had no more removable clothes.

The final leg would take me up the Pines to Palms Highway and around Palomar Mountain.  Any corners would be exciting after the dullness of the desert and this did not disappoint.  Every corner you could imagine, from tight twisties to fast sweepers, were here and it was all bathed in bright sunlight.  Again, the scenery was just as fantastic as the road.  The Bonnie and its rider enjoyed every minute of this place, as it was similar to roads in Colorado except they were only at around 3,000 feet.  That meant the bike actually had power to go down the straights.  It also got cold up here, requiring me to stop and put my flannel back on.

The downward side of the mountain put me on the fast-track to the ocean.  By this time I was pretty tired and just wanted to get to my hotel.  After what seemed like 40 years wandering the desert, I pulled into the hotel, got in my room and collapsed on the bed.  Another realization hit me: I was hungry.  It was getting too dark to walk all the way to the ocean, so I just milled around the area.  All that was around were hot rod shops and a doughnut place.  Giving in, I ordered pizza from Domino's and then crashed.  It had been a very long day.

I made it, though.  I was in California.  As I tried to calm down and relax after the day, I thought about the ride I had just put in.  It's easy to think about California and wonder why anyone would want to live there.  Then you visit and realize why.

In a two hour period, I went from the desert to the mountains and finally to the ocean.  I did this while on amazing roads surrounded by some of the Earth's best scenery.

What an amazing place.

Part V will cover the beginning of the ride home.