The Rascal Diaries: 7/16/14 Every Day is a Winding Road

Both on the coast and inland, our ride today had my heart racing.

Continuing down the PCH, we encountered the best riding part of this road yet. From Gualala south, Route 1 became a sinuous series of switchbacks that took us to new heights. Cheap with the guardrails, the road often took us to the crumbling edge, as my breakfast threatened to revisit. Whooping with joy, Jules rode the curves like a cowboy. Elated, we left the coast and turned onto route 116 toward the grapes. At Guerneville, we began to follow the Russian River.

Soon we were hemmed in by grapes. Every inch of tillable soil was devoted to vineyards, some just a plot in the back yard. Any land that was not suitable for vines was dotted with cattle. Trying to stay away from the wine trail (too many cars), we followed Porter Creek Rd. to Calistoga. Fewer cars, sun and wonderful fields of grape stretching up into the hills lulled us into a peaceful mood. But it was the calm before the storm.

Out of the wine country, Jules sniffed out another amazing and terrifying ride. Dry Creek Road wound us up over the Sonoma Valley. Convolutions pulled us higher and higher as we looked down with the birds at Lake Sonoma. A relatively improved road with white lines, Dry Creek abruptly changed to StewartsPoint-Skaggs Spring Road. Unimproved, with many one lane sections, this ride continued to swerve us upward. But now there was no white line and the edge dropped off with no slope - sheer cliff. Potholes and gravel made navigation difficult, but the worst part was the locals riding over the mountain after work, speeding around switchbacks, oblivious to us. A fifty mile stretch of road with no signs of humanity seemed like 300. A sign stating 9 miles to civilization gave us relief, but only for a minute as the road worsened. The longest 9 miles finally ended and gratefully, we searched out a home for the night.

The Ocean Coast Lodge had one room left - the suite with the hot tub overlooking the ocean. Overpriced to say the least, we were stuck because here in the middle of nowhere there aren't many options. But, as they always seem to do, things turned out for the best. At dinner we were witness to one of the best guitar jam sessions we have ever heard. Sitting for hours, we listened, laughed, sang and cried with these three amazing musicians - friends just loving their music. Finally pulling ourselves away, we ended the night in our hot tub, relaxing from the ups and downs of the day.

As the fog settles us in on yet another Pacific night, my mind is still awake. Riding the edge for most of the day is both intoxicating and frightening, sharpening the senses to an acute appreciation of life. This followed by an immersion into sublime music makes one complete.