The First Harley Trip, 2014 Part 4: California Coast To Hotrod’s

The First Harley Trip, 2014

             Part 4: California Coast To Hotrod’s  


“I always secretly looked forward to nothing going as planned. That way, I wasn't limited by my imagination. That way, anything can, and always did, happen.”
― CrimethInc.          

 At first light, I couldn’t wait to get out of that frigid soggy cocoon of a tent and on the road. After a quick hot shower, I broke camp and packed everything back onto Dorothy. A short ride up the road and back onto Hwy. 1, I pulled into the local Starbucks for my morning cup of coffee and a classic coffee cake. Bottoms up and I was back on the road.

Heading north an hour or so, I was once again in heavy traffic as I rode into and through San Francisco. Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge was majestic. On the north side of the bridge is a rest area/scenic vista. Another "must stop." After a few pictures and a pit- stop, I headed back into the traffic leading back onto Hwy. 1/ Hwy. 101. 

Just a few miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge, Hwy. 1 splits off from the 101 and heads towards the coast. For the next 150 miles or so, Hwy. 1 winds its way through some of the most beautiful coastal mountains, vistas, and small towns. Every turn is worthy of a stop to breathe in the beauty. Needless to say, in order to really take in the majesty of the region, you need to travel slowly, stop often, and take as many pictures as you can.

I did not make it to my planned campsite destination that day due to the slow pace. Rain was forecast for the night so I decided stay in a motel in Ft. Bragg, one of the larger NorCal coastal towns along the way. The weather report was accurate. It rained.

In the morning, after a generous helping of the continental breakfast and coffee that the motel offered, I packed Dorothy for the day’s ride north into Oregon. It was still wet from the night before so I decided it was time to wear those leather chaps, no matter how “poser-like” I thought I might look. It didn’t take long to realize how useful and important those chaps can be; not only as protection from wet rainy weather conditions but also in case that bike goes down. From that point on, I have worn those bug-spattered chaps on all of my long road trips. Thank you Brett Mendez, I owe you bigly.

About 40 or so miles north of Ft. Bragg, Hwy.1 heads inland through the redwoods to the small NorCal town of Leggett. Leggett is where the northern end of Hwy. 1 turns into Hwy. 101, commonly called “The 101.”

Also called, “The Redwood Highway” this section of The 101 is another “must see.”  Before this section of The 101 hits the coast again, there is a 2 lane access road that parallels The 101 called, “Avenue of the Giants.” It’s another “must see.” The road meanders through the most intoxicating giant ancient redwood forest that compels you to pull over around each and every turn for a photo op.  Small independent souvenir shops along the way are all worth a quick stop to get a feel of the local vibe.

Farther north, I was back on the coast heading towards the Oregon border. Oregon’s coast, like California’s northern coast, shares the same beauty.

Logging trucks, sawmills, and sand dunes all present and offer a bit of the local culture. By early evening, I had made it to Bandon, Oregon on the southern coast. Bandon is a quaint small fishing port. Since the weather forecast called for a rainy night, I found another cheap motel for the night.

After unpacking Dorothy, I strolled down to the wharf looking for a place to eat dinner. Foley’s Irish Pub was the call. Delicious fish and chips, I must say.

In the morning, after a night of rain and the possibility of a day of coastal rain, I headed north with a bit of trepidation. My plan was to ride to Portland and visit with my friends, Tom and Loretta.  If you read my brother’s book, From Boy To Biker, My Coming of Age in an Outlaw World, (http://storiesbyhotrod.com/) you’ll learn all about Tom and Loretta.

Up to that point, I had no significant experience riding long distances in the rain. I did know that I didn’t want to spend the day in a motel room waiting on more rain that might or might not come; which is why I made the decision to continue north. About an hour north of Bandon, I arrived in Florence, another small coastal town. I had hit a few patches of very light rain but nothing severe by my inexperienced standard. When I rode through the main drag, local residents had lined the street waiting for a parade. It was some local festival celebrating one of the several events this town celebrates throughout the year. Wanting to get a feel for the local vibe, I decided to stop into a local café for biscuits and gravy. The only seat available was at the counter next to another guy that was riding his Harley up the coast. The conversation was memorable and the breakfast delicious.

While eating, the rain started up again. I wondered and doubted if it was a good decision for me to continue. While staring out the café’s window questioning my ability to ride on, I heard an unmistakable roar and then saw a pack of 20 or so 1%ers from a local club exceeding the speed limit and most likely violating some local excessive noise ordinance.  Obviously not worried about the rain and wet road conditions, they blasted by, convincing me it was OK to proceed, albeit slower and more cautious than these guys.

The weather forecast predicted less rain as you traveled inland so I made the decision to avoid the heavier rain and cancel my plans to continue north to Portland. Instead, I headed inland towards Hotrod’s and JodiRod’s home in Powell Butte, Oregon, a small community about 30 minutes outside of Bend in Central Oregon’s High Desert.

The trip from Florence to Hotrod’s was an all day ride.

The roads took me through mountains, valleys that followed rivers, high  snow covered summits, and eventually ended in the High Desert in Central Oregon. Hotrod and Jodi were out for the day when I arrived and not expected to return until late in the night. Hotrod gave me instructions on how to find their home, how to get in without getting shot by a concerned neighbor, and where to find a cot for the night. I made pancakes for dinner and went to sleep early.