The Rascal Diaries: 7/14/14 The 1

A day of extremes. Both our routes and the weather tested us.

Starting out from Arcata in fog and 50 degrees, we didn't make it far. The hippie and redwood lined streets of Eureka saw our next stop. The redwood business built this town and lumber yards miles long line the road, the odor of freshly cut wood wafting out onto the highway. Panhandlers and aging potheads proliferate in this county known for its weed farming. We steered through them to the local Harley Dealer for Jules to check his air suspension. While there, we were informed that there was another recall on the bike - a problem with the ABS. So we settled in for a wait that we thought would be hours, but actually only took the twenty minutes promised. A Harley first!

Route 101 becomes a super highway here, so we soon veered off for some exploration. Into the small charming Victorian town of Ferndale, Jules looked for an alternate route to the Avenue of the Giants. What he found was a ride that gave me roller coaster stomach. Deteriorating blacktop wound up a mountain, sometimes only affording us one lane. Logging trucks zoomed down, barely missing us in the switchbacks. At my insistence, and because his sides hurt from my nails digging into him, Jules turned around. Back down in Ferdale, we found another route. Through bucolic pasture that edged the sea, we peacefully rode and I relaxed on the back of the bike.

The Avenue of the Giants. With the apt botanical name, Sequoiadendron giganteum, these leviathans absorbed us with their grandeur. A picnic on a fallen tree saw us mesmerized and awe struck. The road parallels 101 for 31 miles through forests solid with redwoods. A ride that began in cool shadows, it did not prepare us for the next leg of our journey.

As the road curved inland, the temperature rose. Shucking leather and long sleeves, we hopped back on 101. At the peak of the thermometer, we experienced 100 degrees. Anxious to get back to the shore, we put our heads into the hot wind and raced on.

Ahh Route One! It was our savior and our guide to the best riding of the day. As soon as we headed up into the mountains on this perfect motorcycle road, the temperature began to drop and the thrills started coming. Rolling into deep curves, Jules and Rascal took charge and I rejoiced in the ride. Switchbacks and corkscrews had us coming and going for hours. Virtually unimpeded by other traffic, we owned the road.

Coming out onto the ocean, we stopped to bundle up in leather again. Views from a mile above the waves crashing on huge rocks exemplify this ride. Often, it seemed like we were going to fly off the road into the sky. Again we flew solo, lucky that no tour buses or RVs stood in our path. Gearing up into the clouds Rascal, Jules and I became one and conquered this road.

In Fort Bragg for the night, we review our day's odyssey. Up we rode and down, with the temperature keeping us company. From the redwoods to the Pacific Highway, this land was ours!