Depending on how you look at things, I just finished my weekend ride to visit my good friend Jeff, who happens to be visiting Morro Bay California. Initially, I thought this was a quick 2 hours out and 2 hours back. I was wrong. It seems that I see things on the map as being much closer than they are. I think that is a product of having traveled through so much of this country. What is an inch or two on the map is right around the corner to me. In reality, it's 500 miles. So, a 500 mile trip for dinner with friends is not at all out of the question. Jeff was in Morro Bay with his girlfriend Donna, so the stage was set. Yes, I'm just off a 2,000-mile Saddle Sore, but so what. I had plenty of miles before my next oil change. I made a quick run to the trailer for an extra quart of oil to take with me and boom, I was off.
Morro Bay is halfway between where I'm working my contract and San Francisco, on the Pacific. There are a couple choices for getting there, and none of them are direct. One route, a personal favorite, would take me about 8 hours to get there. I ruled that out because I need to work on Monday. The rest were variations of I-5 and some trekking across the California Valley. Since I had motorcycle on the brain, I decided to leave my work behind and get on the road. The plan was to take 210 West to 5 North to 166 West to 101 and then consult Jeff to figure out exactly where I needed. Why have an address before leaving? That would be boring. I don't seem to program the GPS much anymore and with the sun behind me for the first half of the trip, the GPS was washed out anyway. Back in the days when there were roll charts and maps in plastic sleeves, displays did not wash out.
210 is a busy little Interstate that connects I-10 on the east with 5 on the west. It may be busier than I-10, but that is good as a motorcycle can easily dispense with the traffic and the volume generally hides the bike from any stray radar beam that may lock on and cause a roadside speed calibration certificate to be issued by one of California's Highway Patrol officers. So, off I went.
I imagine that most people consider a 500 mile run a far distance and would probably prepare for it by taking all kinds of stuff with them. I don't do that. I have a couple bucks on the bike for contingencies, a credit card in my wallet, rain gear and the appropriate riding gear. My bike always has a tire kit on it and for the past several months, it's been equipped with the Microstart XP-3. It can jumpstart a dump truck, should the need arise, or charge my iPhone and other electronic devices. After that, I like to have a quart of oil with me and a paper map, just in case the GPS decides it's time to die.
The super-slab is the super slab - wide, low turn angles and boring, except in California, where the traffic is moving at 80-90 most of the time. One must be on their game at all times, constantly look for the safety zone and escape to a new one as the need arises. Sometimes, that means being a little over the speed limit in order to avoid getting boxed in. So be it. The other feature of the super slab is that it's boring and several hours of it gives a person an opportunity to think.
My thoughts on this particular day were about this video of a motorcycle rider that, while riding entirely too fast, fails to negotiate a corner, straightens himself out, narrowly missing a car, strikes a guardrail and does a spectacular somersault off the bike. A rude tree gets in the way before he has any opportunity to show us all how he could have stuck the landing. That being said, the nearest ground to stick said landing on was probably 40 or more feet down. This rider owes his life to that tree. What grabbed my attention was some armchair quarterback's evaluation of the event. He proclaims that riders before him and after him made the same corner and even if he went into it too hot, all he had to do was lean more and count on the fact that the bike is nowhere near its riding envelope. That, in my humble opinion, is crap.
Leaning a motorcycle is a learned skill, and every half degree more lean means more learning. When we were children and got our first bicycle, we spent a lot of time learning that upright is good. We white knuckled the handlebar and fought to stay upright. Eventually, we got it, and we even learned to lean when riding fast around corners. Successfully leaning a motorcycle, to any degree, means overcoming the bodies natural desire to be upright. We trained ourselves from a very young age that upright is good. What makes anyone think that because you can lean a bike 10 degrees that leaning the bike 20 degrees isn't terrifying? How about 30, 45 or more degrees? If the rider has never been that far over, what is to say that he or she knows what to do to keep control during this completely new experience. Yes, leaning over further is what will save the day and get the rider around the corner, but those skills should have been acquired and well rehearsed long before the event.
We cannot assume anything about the rider doing the header off the cliff. What we know is that he was riding fast, was stable, didn't negotiate the turn, stood the bike up, and crashed into the guard rail. We know that he felt he couldn't negotiate the turn and didn't try. I don't buy his tire wiggling excuse or whatever he said. Plain and simple, his speed and the blind curve ahead were more than he could handle. He was exceeding his personal limitations. The advice should have been ride within your limitations, seek training beforehand, and ride with people that have the same skill set as you do. Lean the bike over is dangerous advice. It makes people think they can push their personal envelope and in that crisis moment, just remember to lean more. Everything will be OK, just like pushing the hyperspace button or clicking your heels three times. Riding smart, riding safe and having one hell of a time are not mutually exclusive events. Push your personal envelope very gently. Eventually, you will have the skills to lean it a little more. Eventually, you will exceed the bike's capabilities also. Every once in a while, my boot touches down. I know that the maximum lean angle is afoot. In this case, lean it more isn't going to help. because you simply can't lean the bike anymore. What then? The only reasonable advice is to ride smart and safely. Unceremoniously, I dismount my soap box and get back to my riding adventure.
So, after getting off the super slab, I found myself in the "California Valley," where it seemed I was in a miles-long farmers field. I don't know the crop. I think it may have been oranges and avocados. This is Rt. 166 and it is straight, 55 mph, picturesque and somewhat boring after awhile.
Arriving near Morro Bay, I decided to get a bite for lunch. Just then Jeff called and advised that the wedding party wasn't going all that well and he'd see me in town at 3:30. I was way early, so I took his recommendation and rode up to Rt. 229. 229 is a nice road. It is not cambered; it is not wide. It is curvy with many transitions though. Nice road, highly recommended if you're in the area. It doesn't take more than 10 minutes or so to ride it from end to end.
Back in town, I met Jeff and Donna at Hoffbrau on the deck. We watched a sea otter show off his backstroke and diving skills as we talked and shared stories. My loyal group of 2 dedicated readers will remember that Jeff is the guy I met early on in my BMW K1600GT days. Donna is his girlfriend of a couple years now. They are incredibly different people and enjoy each other's company.
Jeff and Donna are retired and on a multi-week trip out to California, having been lured there by a wedding. My heart goes out to Jeff. The poor guy is in a place where there is a ton of riding to be done and he is in a cage.
I was enjoying the good company and would have loved to spend several more hours with Jeff and Donna, but work was in my future for Monday morning and I had a planned 4.5-hour ride home ahead of me. After saying our goodbyes, I departed. The plan was to take another county highway out to I-5, however, when I got there I saw the sign that read 82 miles until next service. I had 60 miles left in the tank. Being exceptionally good at addition and subtraction, I quickly calculated that I wouldn't make it and did a u-turn. By the time I arrived at the nearest gas station, 7.5 miles away, the sun was starting to fall rapidly over the horizon. I consulted my GPS and it said my fastest route was to backtrack a heck of a long way, grab Rt. 41 to Rt. 46 and on to I-5. This wasn't all bad as Rt. 41 is a blast to ride in sections. It is a fast road and the corners are just blind enough to keep a rider on their toes. The problem came at the junction of Rt. 46. The road was closed due to a wreck and the detour was well over 20 miles. I estimate that I lost an hour in that detour given the extra miles and double traffic. The good news was that I-5 was moving very fast and I was able to make up some of that. Somehow, the ride home seemed much longer than the ride out, but I was in bed and asleep by 11:30 having had another excellent motorcycle ride and having had the opportunity to visit very good friends.
Good read, brother bob. Thanks for sharing. Jeff & Donna
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