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Here is where an amazing phenomenon occurred... the case of the Narcoleptic Bike. Audrey pulled in and was getting her bike on the center stand when it just decided it was tired and needed to lay down to take a little nap... breaking off the right side view mirror in it's course. After waking the bike up and many phone calls to find out where the heck a BMW dealer was, Audrey determined she could go one without as long as she was in the middle of the pack... a real trooper, that girl! So onward we went, following 4 West straight through the farmlands, logging trucks leaving the scent of the redwood trees in the air as they passed us, and into the twisting roads of the countryside, ending in Angels Camp for lunch at Mrs. B's burgers where we supped on good food and talked with anyone who passed by about raising kids, motorcycles, and the weather. Backtracking on Hwy 4, we toodled along Pool Station Rd. to 49 to 26, an amazing array of lovely, rolling, twisting roadways that had fabulous rhythm of left and right leans to them. Up Hwy 88 into the lower mountains and gently climbing up as the scent of the trees caressed our senses. We stopped just outside of Cooks Station for a butt break and chatted with the locals. We all tried out each others' bikes to see what the other side was like... the Beemer boys on the cruisers and the Honda gals on the Beemers... no one was disappointed with what they were riding but it was fun to see how the other half lives. Continuing up 88, Rick, who upon occasion had "twist of the wrist syndrome but would usually wait up a bit up the road, again blasted past us. The ride leader figured he must have heard the discussion about where the turnoff was to Omo Ranch Rd. He didn't and blindly continued on his way to what he thought was the next stop, Kirkwood, and earning his nickname for the weekend of Waldo (as in "Where's Waldo?). We waited, Rob tried to catch up with him, all to no avail, so we continued onto Omo Ranch, a wonderful 2-lane road that cuts through El Dorado National Forest and makes certain female riders glad for sport bras, as there were lots of bumps and grooves along the way. Rob and Bob (aka Laurel and Hardy as they had us in stitches with their comedy act most of the weekend) caught up with us and we finished the route after a quick gas stop in Fairplay and finally landing at the newly infamous Williams' Ranch (Vanna and Ed, hosts extraordinaire for the weekend and their two dogs, George and Joey, the latter whom had taken the liberty of rolling himself in horse manure and everyone spent the whole weekend dodging his odiferousness). We arrived tired and hungry and dinner was provided (Chinese food complete with fortune cookies and a lesson for the Brit and the Aussie of adding "between the sheets" at the end of the fortune) followed by a glass of wine and an extremely welcome dip in the hot tub. Rob and Bob had originally planned to ride over on Saturday afternoon to Lake Oroville for a NorCal BMW camping event… but after Friday night at the Williams', they decided that perhaps a home cooked meal and hot tub might be a better option than sleeping in the dirt. Saturday morning came and while the original start time was 8 a.m., Attila (aka Hunny) decided that with a visit to Indian Rock (a lovely section of the property with grinding holes in the rock from long ago) with coffee in hand (or Bob "roughing" it with his camping-size espresso maker), it was obvious that communing with nature was paramount and the ride would start soon enough. With the late start, the route adjusted slightly to include Bucks Bar Rd to Cedar Ravine and into Placerville where we finally hooked up with "I Need a Hug" Rick (aka Waldo), who had holed up in Sacramento the night before. From there, we traveled along Mosquito Rd., a wild array of switchbacks complete with a wooden bridge (which tested the width of my bike with the newly added highway pegs and also had a butt pucker moment or two for Ed, riding his big ole Gold Wing, and had a close encounter on the way up with an SUV that almost caused him to have to stop and drop the bike, also causing him to yell to Vanna, "PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN!!!" in order to keep the bike up), onto Rock Creek Rd (such a fun stretch of leans and twists with hills drenched in yellow wildflowers cascading down the sides of them - Audrey asked if we could take that road home with us) and a test of everyone's Y-turn skills (no, they were NOT u-turns!!), coming out onto 193 (a wonderfully curved ascent into Georgetown) and stopping to pick up sandwiches at a local deli. From there we headed out Wentworth Springs Rd. It's hard to describe this one as it is an absolute orgasmic stretch of pavement, wide 2-lane road, newly paved, perfectly alternating between lovely curves and fast straightaways, satisfying both the throttle-happy as well as the more laid back traveler. The only thing that put a bit of a dent in the experience was the three feet of snow that was spread across the road about 2/3 of the way through. While we are an adventurous lot, 2-wheeling through the snow was not on our list, although we did endeavor to assist a guy in a truck who had high-ended his vehicle on top of the snow, thus earning Rob the "Boy Scout Award" for this particular trip as he dug longer than any mere mortal had the right to in order to get this poor sap out of the snow. Soon, three dirt bikes came up the other side and at one point there were seven men all standing around the truck, trying to figure out some way to get it out, thus prompting the question, "How many men does it take to get a truck out of the snow?" Not enough and we vowed to call for help once in cell range and headed back to Stumpy Meadows for our picnic, originally planned for Loon Lake. (fyi, we all decided this area was definitely worth a return trip so if you missed it this time, you'll get another chance!). As we reversed our direction, I looked at the Beemer gents and asked if they wanted to go play, to which they all just smiled and bolted off down the road. I then looked at CC and asked her the same question to which she politely hemmed and hawed until I shooed her away and she bolted off after the boys, surprising them as she pulled up about 10 seconds behind them in the parking lot. Her quote: "Sometimes I just like to go fast." The ride leader pulled out her trusty map and found some new roads which included continuing along 193 into Cool (even though it wasn't), down 49 (where I had a Zen moment - almost became one with the back of a pickup truck as I was focused on a bunch of glittering copper art leaves in a tree and not the traffic in front of me... anyone have a spare pair of shorts?!?) and into Coloma to educate all on where gold was first discovered in California and to dip our hot tootsies in the lovely, cool water of the American River. Continuing down 49, into Placerville, and up Hwy 50, we exited at Sly Park Rd., down into Somerset, stopped to pick up a few things at Halls Grocery Market (where CC, trying to buy some wine was carded and gleefully yelled at me across the checkout stand to come and bail her out - "I got carded, oh, I got carded" and proceeded to do the "I Got Carded" dance right then and there) and back to the ranch, gratefully shedding gear left and right and sitting down to a feast fit for a king of ribs, potatoes, salad, and veggies, and home made walnut/pecan pies, along with some good wine and wonderful repartee. After dinner, Brit Bob presented what is now officially the first annual SOS (Somerset Oh Sh*t) Awards, which follow herewith: " To Audrey: "Oh sh*t, my bike is sleeping!" (after
it fell over at the gas station) After dinner, we again soaked our tired motorcycle bodies in the quite warm hot tub, causing some to flop out like spastic fish onto the surrounding cement to cool off before hopping back in again, and of course resulting in yet another slew of quotable quotes that for the most part would make no sense unless you had been there, so I'll refrain. Sunday morning, Hunny again deemed it necessary to not crack the whip too hard as there were a few slightly hung over riders from the grape juice imbibed the night before. Ed, once again proving his prowess in the kitchen, provided everyone with a great start to the day with a fabulous breakfast, complete with Bob's fashion show in his t-shirt, boxers, and motorcycle boots... it's definitely a look. I didn't say what kind of look, but a look nonetheless. Finally packed up, we said a reluctant goodbye to Vanna and Ed, wishing we could extend the stay and vowing to return, whether they liked it or not! Rick headed off toward Placerville while the rest of us headed out via E16 and into Mt. Aukum before turning on a series of one-lane roads that must have been dropped from heaven as the views of the ponds with water as still as glass, reflecting the colors of the trees and flowers in it, were almost too perfect to believe to be real. Cedar Creek, Lawrence Rd., Tyler Rd. (even though we couldn't find one road sign with that name on it), Ostrom Rd., back to E16, looping around on Shenandoah School Rd., and out to 49 into Sutter Creek. We traveled through the town of Amador, where a street fair with balloons and food and quilts and art and children was running along the sides of the roads... a sight that made your heart yearn for the simpler things in life. When planning the route last week, Audrey pointed out a particular road that was deemed too good to pass up. Yes, Climax Rd. was on the route - because it had to be said the riders were taken to Climax - and as hard as I tried, I couldn't find the dang road... only to find out afterward that we had actually been on it but, since there were no road signs to be seen, I had not realized it. Yes, I had Climax'd and not even known it... sad, isn't it? Sigh... From there it was downhill, literally and figuratively, but unfortunately not temperaturely. After stopping in Jackson, we headed out Stony Creek to Pardee Dam Rd to Buena Vista to Comanche Pkwy, greeted along the way with a massive group of cows being herded up the road causing us to have to pull over to the side of the road since cows think motorcycles are other cows and might get friendly with them (as warned by the cowboy herding the beasts). We stopped at the junction of 88 and 99 for gas and a well appreciated air-conditioned restaurant for a little lunch before heading out into the heat of the valley. Hwy 4 West to Vasco and into Livermore, whereupon Hunny took stock
of her merry band (and their bodies strewn along the cement at the last
rest/gas stop trying to find respite from the heat) and decided that
while they had originally been gung ho for 84 to Calaveras, drizzle
drazzle drozzle drone, time for these ones to go home. And so, Rob &
Bob headed off via 580 toward parts near SF and the DC girls headed
off to 84 and jammed down 680 to our much beloved homes, families, pets,
and fluffy beds, where our heads hit the pillows with visions of motorcycle
sugar plums danced in our heads and we sunk into the dreams of the ride.
Peace,
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Friday
morning came with blue skies, wispy clouds, and bright sunshine... oh
yeah, and coffee!! Our merry band consisted of Tyler, Audrey, CC, Aussie
Rob, Brit Bob, and their friend Rick, meeting in Fremont and heading
out pretty close to on time (yes, yours truly, the ride leader, was
a wee bit of a task master although realizing there were times to kick
back - earning the name of "Attila the Hunny"). We headed
off up Niles Canyon, across 84 and into Livermore, finally slabbing
it up 580 to 99 to 4 just outside of Stockton to gas up.