A ride? No... a True Adventure

[powergroove75]

There are those days when you get on your bike expecting to have a great day of riding only to wind up having a true adventure in every sense of the word. This is what my Monday ended up being.

It started like any other Monday... I was off of work and the lady and I were destined for the unknown. We still had yet to determine where this "unknown" was exactly but we knew we were going to take a long ride. Never did we expect we would have a day chock full of memories like this one.

A "good morning" text and a phone call later I was out in the garage prepping the ZX for a romp in the turns. Cheking over things as I grabbed my gear and rolled "Sunshine" out into the driveway. Once the leathers and lid were securely attached to my body I hit the starter button to wake up the lovely black machine of awesomeness. Once the temp read over 130 I was off to grab a quick bite and some coffee on my way to meet the companion.

As I mentioned... this day started like any other... but the encounters we made were that of which books could be written. People you encounter and the places and things you see will forever be etched into the memory banks of the mind. My first encounter happened to be at the local coffee stop on my way to meet my girl. A nice gentleman who had never been into motorcycles but fascinated with the leathers and bike. We chatted for a few about everything from tire pressures to safety and friendly motoring and I eventually emailed him some info on a project I'm part of.

Back on the bike I make the short ride to my loving lady... who was waiting patiently for me to arrive so we could plan out our day. Most of the time we start our rides this way. No particular route in mind... just a few ideas. I had taken a ride the day prior into territory she hadn't seen yet so that was suggested. But neither of us was up to the task of straight lining it for at least an hour to get to the fun stuff. So to Google maps we went! Soon a general idea of where we wanted to go was set. And the potential for a new road or two (of which we weren't even sure were paved) had been plotted.

After a quick tire pressure check on the ZX and the lady's DRZ 400 we were ready to go.

"Got enough gas to make it 60 miles?" My companion asked.

"Sure do!" I replied... and with that... a pull of the clutch lever, and a click into first gear, we were off for our adventure.

The route took us into familiar territory to start off with. A nice brisk ride up the Canyon snaking along the Kern River. Not many cars on this Monday morning and the few we did encounter were nice enough to pull aside when they could to let us by to enjoy some lean angles. Left... right... left... right... straight... brakes... left again... We were both feeling good and the bikes were loving the attention I'm sure. Eventually we got to the top where it opens up to some longer sweepers and the speeds increase slightly.

Our heads bobbing as we both listened to the sounds coming through our headphones we hit the sweepers, playing with each other and goofing off when I noticed the lady-friend looking for something. Turns out her mp3 player decided it wasn't happy strapped to her tank and flung itself around and behind her to rest on the exhaust pipe of the DRZ. But the tunes played on! So we pulled off to re-attach the electronic music device and back on the road we went.

Soon we had arrived in Lake Isabella. The weather was perfect. The sun was warm and the air was cool. You just couldn't ask for better weather on a ride day. Snaking up and around the lake we ended up at the back of a short line of cars and followed them into the town of Kernville where we pulled off for gas and a Red Bull. Me... well... I needed a little pain reliever as well since I had done about 220 miles the previous day and my bones were stiff. As we were sitting there a gruff CHP officer pulls up to fuel his conveyance next to us. We then hear the humming of something behind us and realize that we're, in fact, blocking two pumps as we chatted and carried on. "Uhh... Maybe we should move out of the way... haha." I said.

After pulling the bikes out of the way we carried on our conversation when we hear a voice. "Are those things hard to ride?" the woman gassing up asked. The same woman we happened to be blocking a few minutes before. "Which one?" my loving moto companion replied. "They're both pretty easy to ride but mine is much lighter and a little more nimble in some situations."

This was our first encounter of the day. The woman walked over to us and struck up a conversation lasting around 10 minutes. We chatted about the thrills of motorcycling and how beautiful of a day it was and she eventually told us that if we were even camping in the area that her family owns a local campground and we were always welcome! I love meeting new people. You just never know who you're going to come in contact with. We then asked if she had a recommendation on where we could fuel ourselves... and the airport for a hearty burger was determined our best spot. My compatriot had wanted to bring me to this place anyway so we were on our way... the ride took about 10 minutes and we soon pulled into the parking area of an airstrip that echoed of the 1960's. In fact... I'd be willing to bet that the ladies running the restaurant had been there since the 1960's too.

Our orders were taken and "airport cat" approved of our choices of meals with a glance over and a lazy, "meow..." Must be tough being the "Airport cat". Tough job... and everyone wants to say hello to you. Which I definitely did. Shortly after... our food had arrived. For me... a huge burger (and this was the smaller one) with fries and a large root beer. For my lady... A salad with pulled pork on top... We were in heaven.





Soon after our meal we headed back out to the bikes to return to our journey. Two older gents who had been eating a table away from us were our second encounter of the day. Very interested in these machines we so comfortably rode on these ribbons of roadway the smiles from them made me excited to grow old living lifes adventures. "Have a great day!" we said as they got into their car as we started up our bikes. And as fast as we had gotten there... we were off and running again.

We headed north of the lake and into a twisty road I had never been on. Something about motorcycling... you feel like you are more free to see things you never have had the chance to see. When I'm in a car I usually have a destination in mind. On my bike... it's all about not having a particular destination. Just having the freedom to take a turn and travel into the unknown. This was where I was... In an unknown area following my girl up a road with the occasional cow off to the side.

We kept a decent pace... not too fast... not too slow. Winding our way into the hills of the lower end of the Sierras you could feel the air getting a little cooler. A few turns with some slight bits of dirt in them kept us on our toes. Soon we rounded a bend and came up on a bed and breakfast we had seen earlier on the map. My companion in front of me pointed it out and at that very moment realized she was entering a turn a bit too quick. Brakes were applied as we both edged towards the dirt in the middle of the lane. "This might not end well..." I thought to myself as I entered a very tight right hander with a decreasing radius and a quick uphill. BRAKES!!! Then I saw her rear end slide out just as I saw my own demise... "oh crap!". Let me tell you this... a 300 pound dual sport is somewhat made for this type of thing... but a 425 pound super sport isn't really what you want to hurl into a dirty corner that tightens up. I felt my backside pucker as I let off the brakes and we both went a little wide. Barely escaping an almost certain fall I let out a "whew!" in my helmet. And without so much as a second thought we were back on the gas and headed into the next series of turns.

A few more miles and we decided to take a quick photo stop. The bridge seemed like a perfect spot for such a stop! The Kern River rustling below this expanse of steel and pavement was a pretty cool sight to see. But we had more to see... more to conquer on this day of adventure. Little did we know that our day would be much more interesting as the miles and minutes ticked by.




We were back on the bikes and climbing in elevation again. More twists and turns and the trees started getting more noticeable and much larger than in the lower parts of our journey. We cruised at a decent pace but not so fast that we couldn't enjoy the scenery. A few more turns with some debris but nothing like the "uh oh!" turn we had encountered 15 or so miles before. It was time for another photo spot. So we pulled off to the side to take in the sights.




Now we were getting into the good stuff. A hallway of pine trees cutting through the mountains. Trees big enough to dwarf everything around them and shade most of the roadway were a common sight. It was in this thick wooded area that we pulled off for another stop to rest. As we pulled over I didn't shut of the mighty ZX... I wanted to check something out. So I left my companion to her devices as I went back up a few turns to a dirt road carving up the side and off of the main highway. I was now dual sporting a 400 pound supersport with tires definately not made for this sort of thing. But what fun is staying on the beaten path? I made my way about 150 feet up this path to a shaded spot overlooking the roadway and valley below.

Something about silence. You don't realize how peacefull a place is sometimes until you shut off a 120+ decibel motorcycle in the middle of nowhere. Having grown up in the mountains I immediately found myself free of worry. Free of care of the world I live every day in. The sounds you hear in your daily life can't amount to the sound of nature in all its glory. Finding peace within yourself as you sit and stare upon such beauty is something I can't explain. You just have to try it for yourself. But these pictures might give you a little idea.




Soon after my off road adventuring I went back down to meet up with my lovely road warrior. She waved me by and I took the lead. Winding slowly down the turns into the valley I had been staring out on only a few minutes before at about 35mph it seemed like the day would be coming to a close soon. I was mistaken.

I rounded a corner to see two people waving me down. What are two human beings doing standing on the side of this road in the middle of nowhere? Well... Turns out they were two young lovers themselves... out for an adventure of their own. Unfortunately their adventure wasn't going as well as they had planned. In an attempt to get a better view the young man found his truck sliding into a slippery, grassy ravine. Not the place you want your 2-wheel drive Blazer getting stuck.

So I hopped off of the bike and walked over to where they were. Then saw the truck. Now if you had been passing by you never would have seen this truck nestled ever so comfortably in a grassy spot it would not be getting itself out of any time soon. What luck! Barely able to get a cell phone signal I was able to get in touch with one of the local agencies that would soon dispatch help to these poor souls. The great thing was... they seemed to be ok with their predicament. It's often better to accept the fact that you're out of options and go on with the situation and laugh about it.



We said our goodbyes to the couple and started back down to the bottom of the valley. Soon we were at a crossroads. The mountain road we had seen earlier on the map lie before us. "Which way are we going?" I asked, parched as I realized I was in fact very thirsty. Then a small sign read "General store - 1 mile". I guess we were in the right place at the right time! Off we go!

We ended up in a little village of maybe 100 people and came up to the store we had seen on the sign. Where there just so happened to be a large, lifted Sheriff truck with a winch. We let the officer know of our recent adventures with a lonely couple who had the misfurtune of getting stuck in the middle of a gorgeous knoll. He decided it was a good idea to go check on them and before he left said, "Well... the store is closed today but if you've got exact change they might be able to get you something to drink."

"Thanks officer! Have a great day!"

I had literally $2 under my seat. As we walked into the tiny store the owners were busy stocking the shelves for the next week of business. A Dr. Pepper and an Arizona Iced Tea were our drinks of choice and we asked what the damage was. "Two dollars..." the proprieter replied.



As we spent our minutes enjoying the fruits of my last two bucks we sat and thought about how much of an adventure the day had turned out to be. A day that started like every other ride. But ended up being much more.

The people we came in contact with this very day were inviting and interesting. The journey had taken on much more than a simple road trip. It had been a true day of adventure. A day where every turn had something behind it. These are the journeys in life that will remain in the memories of everyone we came in contact with. Each person this day had a different story of their own. We all just seemed to get intertwined at some point. Sharing stories and genuinely sharing a great day.

I hope that couple ended up making it home safe and are laughing about their mishaps today.

What will The Next Turn bring us?

We will just have to find out next time.....

[xmailman]

Really nice write up, you have a way with words.

[Tyler]

Originally Posted by powergroove75

People you encounter and the places and things you see will forever be etched into the memory banks of the mind.

Originally Posted by powergroove75

Something about silence. You don't realize how peaceful a place is sometimes until you shut off a 120+ decibel motorcycle in the middle of nowhere.

Great write up!! You captured the essence of a few of the main reasons that I love the adventure of riding. Well done!!

[powergroove75]

Thanks guys! This was last weeks ride. I'm working on the one we got back from yesterday.

I haven't been on Pashnit for a while as I moved and had been getting things sqaured away with that whole "life" thing. But glad I could share some of my thoughts with all of you.

More to come!

And if you think I have a way with words... the girlfriend will astound you. I'll post up her version shortly.

[BruceWA]

Very well written ride report, almost felt like I'd ridden it with you two.

[powergroove75]

Here is her version...

***********************

Okay so rather than start my own thread posting up my version, I will post it up here. Beware, it's lengthy.

Mile Marker: House of Mayhem

It all started at 8:01 a.m. when he beat me to the “Good Morning” text. Well, I guess for me it technically started 20 minutes later when he called to follow up. I didn’t hear the text and I was peacefully catching up on sleep. We briefly clarified our plan to adventure and he informed me that he had a couple of things to tie up before leaving, and that he would stop for coffee. I took this as an opportunity to lay around for an additional half hour. It was nice. Of course, I didn’t tell him that.

Some time later I heard the squeak of his boots as he announced his arrival. I was just getting out of the shower and we were discussing our options for where we’d ride. I was feeling good. Some mornings you just wake up and your head is in the right place to go forward with a spirited ride. I did some maintenance on the DRZ the night before and was looking forward to throwing it around in some corners. I wanted to try out some new strategies for body position and maybe push the limits of the bike a little further.

He mounted up the Go-Pro and we were off. I merged onto the freeway and maintained a relaxed pace for the 6 miles until the entrance to the mouth of the canyon. The flashing lights and 35 mph sign are always a site that brings forth a smile and makes little butterflies flutter in my stomach. When everyone else is backing off, I am speeding up or at least holding a steady pace.

The only problem with the canyon is that, with the exception of one small section, it is entirely sectioned off by double yellows; probably for good reason though. The lanes are only about 6 feet wide, and you get your choice of a solid rock wall, or a 100 foot drop off a jagged hillside into rushing rapids; there are a few turnouts but for the most part you better be pretty good at decision-making. On a sport bike this isn’t as much of an issue as it is on the DRZ. The DRZ has a top speed of 90 mph (downhill with a tail-wind) and at any speed above 70 the front end likes to oscillate. As such, passing is a chore, albeit mildly entertaining for any compatriots who are riding along with me. I’ve pretty much always got it WOT in every gear: but I can corner with the best of ‘em and I haven’t even got 17 inch rims.



After a few miles, I finally settled into focus; looking through the corners and getting my body into a relaxed state. I had to pass a few cars, but it wasn’t as much work as it usually is. My little thumper danced gracefully with the freshly paved tarmac of the canyon. I could personally send Cal-Trans a thank-you card if not for the fact that they completely butchered SR 155 which is, in my opinion one of the best riding routes in California. So on I went, holding a steady line, feeling good. The tires were grippy, the bike was running well, and I was in the zone of clarity and focus that usually marks my most successful rides. The last bit of the section is a series of 15-20 mph switchbacks; my favorite part. I dove into them a little heavier than normal and threw my shoulders, hip and knee off to the side. The bike was so light beneath me that for a second it felt like it would fold, but it held on like a rail and gobbled up the corners.

Upon the exit we were greeted with sweepers that I normally take at 110+. Today I would be taking them at 90, WOT fully tucked with front end oscillating while mockingly hanging my body off to the sides with a knee out. I heard the howl of his Muzzy and knew it would only be a milisecond before he blew by me like I was standing still. Sure enough he went past, leaned over, bike wailing like a fighter jet through the sound barrier.

I was jealous, and for a long moment I missed my supersport.

We stopped for gas and made the acquaintance of a woman who proceeded to fill us in on all the traumatic experiences she’s witnessed of other motorcyclists. She had a good heart and a kind personality so we obliged with the occasional nod, and supportive conversation; damning the general populace of motorists, and reaffirming why we practice responsible riding. Somewhere deep within, I was chuckling at the irony… or maybe it was hypocrisy at the two of us being associated with any sort of responsible riding. Her name was Jerry and she was the kind of woman who emanated sincerity when she plead for us to be safe, and joyfully bid us farewell on our journey to the little airport off the beaten path that had the largest and most delicious burgers the backwoods had to offer.

Mile Marker: The Kernville Airport



We rolled up to our parking spaces alongside the air strip where a cheeky little sign was posted as a greeting to dogs, in dog language. Looming overhead was an airplane posted on pole that served as a weather vane; it swayed in the breeze and its propeller spun feverishly. We plopped down at a table on the patio and greeted Airport Cat, who was sprawled out lazily under a chair, halfassedly chirping in acknowledgement of our presence. My stomach felt empty, pinched inside the waistband of my leathers and I didn’t want to order anything that would make them any tighter than they already were. I settled on a salad and it was a wise and fulfilling choice.

Upon departure we were greeted by two older gentlemen who struck up conversation about our bikes and our travels. One of the things I love the most about adventure riding is the people you meet along the way; everyone used to ride, everyone has a story, and everyone has a glimmer in their eyes as they vicariously revisit some of their fondest moments. It’s one of those things about motorcycles, they are like monuments of what life truly encompasses. Everyone who looks at a motorcycle, does so with longing or passion. Everyone wants one, many have had one, and no one ever admits to being happier since having done away with one. This is one of the many reasons why I am so in love with them; the motorcycle is the vessel of what humanity seeks to create after looking into the human spirit and becoming empowered by the longing to liberate it. I consider myself all the richer to have sat with a person, generations ahead of me, who has lived a long life of putting these things to good use; after all… they are not made to bring us closer to death, but rather to bring us to life. Perhaps that is why I’m a fan of agile and speedy motorcycles, my spirit is just too invigorating for a cruiser or a Harley… for now.

My compatriot and I bid our farewells to the men who most likely spent their car journey in silence, reminiscing and deliberating. As we rolled the bikes in motion, I looked over to see a small group of people all watching us in our departure. I can’t attest to what they were thinking but I’m sure it was a mixed review.

Back on the main stretch there were corners to be had. I eased into some, as the roadway bordered camp-sites and launch points for white-water rafting tours. Once we were clear I picked up the pace a little bit and actually found myself back in the zone. The mighty DRZ never faltered, never quivered and never even stumbled under my aggressive demand to go faster, corner harder, and gobble up the obstacles in the process.



We stopped on the bridge and reflected. I gave a few warnings to my compatriot about how the first few miles were going to be somewhat treacherous for sport bikes, as there is usually dirt or debris, or bumps and holes in the road. He acknowledged the information and plugged along patiently behind me. As we barreled through the last straightaway, I looked over lazily to point out a landmark. I had underestimated my proximity to the first corner in the uphill ascent; a corner that is usually coated in dirt, decreases in radius, and is blind and narrow. Sure enough I looked back to the roadway just in time to see it rapidly approaching. Knowing that the DRZ is much more forgiving of hard braking than my supersports, I grabbed some brake and hoped to be slowed enough to plunge it into the corner. I may have had it if it weren’t for the layer of dirt that caused both tires to slip and as I cracked the throttle the rear end bucked out and I settled in the oncoming lane. Luckily it was a very slow corner and no one was coming down the hill. My heart rate was elevated and I found myself riding very casually up the rest of the winding switchbacks that carried us hundreds of feet in less than a few miles.

We had gone 15 miles or so before I started to wonder how my compatriot was holding up. The DRZ was gliding over the holes and bumps that, on my 636, would have had me cussing more than a few times over. I remember the agony of plugging through this point and today it wasn’t so bad, in fact it was even kind of fun. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the blue glow of his headlight not far behind. Taking advantage of a moment to pull off and regroup, I glided into a turnout on the opposite site of the road. He pulled up behind me and we silently peeled ourselves off our bikes.



Back on the road things had smoothed out… literally. There weren’t as many potholes and bumps of elevated pavement. There was plenty of dirt in some corners but overall it made for pretty smooth sailing. We rode for a few more miles before the rear end skipped out again. This time I knew it was coming and rode it out. I had dramatically slowed my pace after becoming tired of contending with the environmental risk factors. I stopped for another break a few miles up the road and my companion rode off to explore a detour while I relaxed on a giant boulder that jutted out from a mountain and overlooked a thicket of trees along a hillside.



He emerged some time later and we resumed our travels. I waved him by and as we rounded a bend I saw him getting flagged down by a couple who were on the side of the road. I pulled over while he talked to a guy who appeared to be about our age. I thought for a brief moment that if I maintained a distance, I could flee in the event of an attack. It turns out that the couple was originally in a vehicle (although none were in sight). They had managed so slide it down the side of a mountain on accident and had become stranded with no cell service. Being the dutiful gentleman that he is, my companion secured a signal and made some phone calls. I on the other hand, had no signal and proceeded to take pictures and make jokes with the young woman who was in the company of this adventuresome doodle who slid his car down the hillside. I assured her, jokingly, that this would be a pivotal memory in their relationship for years to come.

They were very nice, finding humor in their misfortune. After securing GPS coordinates to determine our exact location (those backroads can be tricky), and estimating from odometer readings that we were about 45 miles from civilization, we managed to get some information relayed for them and bid friendly farewells before continuing on with our ride. 5 miles later we found ourselves in a village with a general store. Upon arrival we noticed that a Sheriff was on site and I pointed out to him that there was a stranded couple a few miles up the road. In my mind I chuckled at the fact that with the 45 minutes we spent trying to get signal, and relay their whereabouts, we probably could have just ridden down the mountain. Oops.



We enjoyed a beverage and took a few pictures of the tiny village town that reminded me of something out of a horror movie. It was quaint and charming, and so quiet you could hear bird shit splatter in either direction. I was certain that if we tried any hooligan shenanigans here we would be stoned and buried in a hillside.



I bet they have killer barbecues.

Once back on the road it was flat and straight for the 60 miles back home. We stopped at gas station at the intersect of two major highways before settling in to the humdrum of two-lane traffic, crosswinds, and boring flat landscapes.

[Jeffdag]

Nice pics and great reports. I have been to these areas and what way to spend the day.

[demenshea]

What an entertaining read from you both. I can't wait for the next one!

[Girl O' Flight]

Cool RR, Jason! I enjoyed your pictures and your unique & fun writing style!
Also your girlfriends (is her name classified info? Like if you tell us then you'll have to kill us?! )
has got some serious talent too! What a great adventure you two had!

[powergroove75]

Originally Posted by Girl O' Flight

Cool RR, Jason! I enjoyed your pictures and your unique & fun writing style!
Also your girlfriends (is her name classified info? Like if you tell us then you'll have to kill us?! )
has got some serious talent too! What a great adventure you two had!

Thanks Suzi...! Actually... her writing is what inspired me to pick up the proverbial pen again. And she takes some AMAZING pictures as well.

Her name is Rosemary... Now I'm gonna have to kill you.

Matter of fact... I believe she's a member here but hasn't been on in quite some time. So long that I think she's forgotten her login info.. haha.