From Seattle to San Jose

Apparently I do know the way to San Jose, or at least my GPS thinks it does.

Leaving the Loeding's I headed for the Pacific Coast Highway (US 101 or US 1 depending on where you're at). Being that I was heading for San Jose, but I knew it would take 2 days in California traffic, I shot high. I went up towards Puget Sound, and not doing as much homework as I should have, the GPS got me there, and then said "board a boat". At least it was right from that aspect, there was a ferry there, and for $7.85 I boarded and took a 30 minute boat ride. Well, about a hour after debarking the boat, I was on 101.

Highway 101 had some very nice twisties and some very nice views. While it is revered as a piece of Americana, the traffic really caused it to drop in my list of Top 10 Rides. Being stuck behind Winnebago's towing Jeeps and underpowered mini-vans pulling pop-up campers was normal. I'd pass them when I could, only to run across the next turtle a half mile down. The speed limit was 55mph on the 101, but I don't think I ever hit it. I would guess my average speed was about 45mph, if I was lucky. After a long day doing 45mph, I rolled into Nepwort Oregon. An overcast sky had rolled in which prevented me from catching the sunset. I figure I have a few good sunrises, and I was due to catch a sunset. It wasn't to be that day, but I'll catch one before I bail.

The next day I started off on the road around 6:00am. Instead of following the 101 any further, I headed for the interstate, I-5. Getting there took me through a heavy fog in the mountains, which was something new. The fog mixed with elk crossing signs had me again cruising along at 45mph, until the sun finally burned off the moisture around 7:15. By 7:30, I was on I-5 doing 80 and enjoying the space. By 8:30 I was surrounded by traffic but still doing a respectable 70.

70 was good until I hit California. California maybe the only state with more road construction than Michigan. There was more "left lane/right lane" closers than in all of the states I've been in combined. The crummy thing about these closers, is I rarely saw any humans working on the roads. There would be some equipment around, but nobody running the machines. Also, it was hot. Stuck at a dead standstill padded up with road gear in the blazing heat boiled me like an egg. So much so I didn't hit my destination of San Jose. I made it to a town called Red Bluff, and pulled off for the night. Funny thing about Red Bluff. I saw 4 motorcycles there. 3 of them BMW's. One of them was a BMW R1200C, which was the first real bike I ever owned. This one was very tricked out though with gorgeous saddle bags. The bags I had were nice, but nothing like these.

Off the next day, early, and found out just what traffic was like in the greater Bay area. California traffic is not good. On top of that, their roads are a patchwork of good and evil. Some of the roads are pristine new blacktop, and on the flip side are pot hole riddled grooved payment stretches. If you don't ride a bike, grooved pavement doesn't bother you. On two wheels, it's fairly treacherous. Nothing quite like riding down the road and feeling your machine shimmy for no reason what so ever. Poorly maintained grooved pavement really jumpstarts the inner voice. When the wheels are wobbling, it's tough to tune that little bastard out. To also get a little pet peeve off my chest, when there is a sign "motorcycles use extreme caution"…That shit isn't for motorcyclists!! We're always using extreme caution. If you see that sign as a driver, and see a motorcycle, give the bike some room. We're doing our best out in that shit, give us some space.

I arrived in San Jose in one piece at my buddy Jack Clyne's house. Very nice house, for a very upstanding guy. Upon arrival, I took off my road gear and got into some shorts. I also took a look in the mirror…I looked rode hard and put away wet. It was time for a shave and a haircut. Upon leaving Michigan, I had my head shaved. Well, it was looking pretty funky by this time. Jack took me an odd little barber in the middle of a warehouse and the dude gave me a cool new haircut and a hot shave. My barber had a few more tattoo's than your average 1% biker club member. I was cool with this, as I figured he knew his way around a blade. When I got up from the chair, I looked and felt 10 years younger. Might be due to all the gray hair that was trimmed off my face?

Jack is a music guru, and has probably the biggest heart of anyone I know. I was planning on hanging out with him through the weekend, but family affairs required his attention. I arrived on Wednesday, and Jack needed to fly out on Thursday. He simply tossed me the keys to his new BMW convertible, and passed along his late father Ken's warning "Don't burn the house down". There was something else about "you crash it you own it…." but I wasn't paying attention as I eyeballed and slighlty drooled over the keys he had just tossed me. I offered to watch Jack's dog Murphy, but Murphy was headed to the doggie spa, and I hear last time she was there, they didn't want to give her back as she is such a sweetheart.

So I'm San Jose bound, with keys to the house, keys to the car, and nowhere to be. I'm a curious creature, and I've already found a few fun spots around town.