Goonies, Birthdays, and Mustang Ranch!

   

     Plucked, tired, and tone deaf, at 9:45pm and 404 miles later,  I pulled into Portland one happy camper.    There I was back at the Ranch where my precious Garrett, Holly Jo, and Riley live.  Garrett had a table full of burrito and fixings prepared for me when I arrived, bless his soul, and we sat and ate (I scarfed) and then Holly Jo and Riley joined us, and we visited some more laughing and embracing our reunion on into the later hours of the evening.

Day 2 in Portland:
     The first order of the first day in Portland town, I picked up my guitar and played.  I played till my heart was content, and I'd run through every style of music I could muster up creatively on that 6 string.  Right about that point where my fingers tips are about to fall off, it was afternoon, and that's happy hour time in Portland.  So, the second most important order of the day, I made sure to go get some cheap beers at a nearby watering hole that also has pretty good happy hour food deals.  I sat there and called some friends to come join me while I sipped from a tall cold can, and ordered up a basket of deep fried goodness (the only real kind of goodness I know).  Well, it's always refreshing to see people you haven't seen in years, and know that you can always reconnect on a dime.  It was like that for the next few days, visiting with old friends and new ones.

It was about day whatever in Portland and lo and behold it was already the 4th of July.  So I spent the 4th of July like any one would, BBQ hopping around town.  Pool parties, live performances in the park, eating a few plates of free food, and lazing in the sun drinking lots of free beer.  After all that I rode across town to another evening BBQ with the Mager family, hometown folks from Sonora, and that's when the fireworks came out and that's when the colorful explosions happened overhead, and that's when we had Roman Candle battles, and oh what a hair raising good time that is.  The party wound down around midnight and I shot back home to the Ranch, for a sweet slumber.   The next morning I had nothing to do, nothing planned, a free day to do whatever.  The night before I'd been talking with someone about the Goonies, so I decided to go find this amazing filming location.  I knew one was Cannon beach (the last scenes of the movie) and that the house they filmed it in was up in Astoria, OR.  I busted out the map and made my routes.  I took the Oregon 26 west from Portland to the 101 south to Cannon Beach.  It was beautiful as all hell.  It's a huge beach, and that day it was fitting lots of people, the sun was out, and people were doing their best to play in the cold Oregon waves.  But it was super cool seeing the familiar land markers from the movie.  I snapped some photos with my other camera (which I haven't uploaded yet, but will) and headed back up the 101 to Astoria, OR.  I rode around some neighborhoods and had a fun time seeing the ports and old river/sea going vessels.  After a little side tourism, I finally found the Goonies house "Goondocks." The owner of the house was doing some maintenance on the house and chatted with some fans from the porch.  My time with the Goonies had come to an end cause I had to get back to Portland for a dinner.  I headed back along the East Columbia River Highway 30, a two lane country road that follows the Columbia river divide between Washington and Oregon.  Time was getting too close to dinner, so I had to jump on a bridge into Washington that was going to take me immediately to the Hwy 5, and be a much faster trip back to Portland, than the slower going 30 would.  That little dip into Washington made it 4 states on my trip.

At the "Goondocks"

what a nice sign.

      I refused to leave Portland until I got some good river time in, and it wasn't until my last 2 days there that I did.  I even extended my stay in town an extra day or two, because for some reason that was when everyone was able to get on some river time.  One day I went with complete strangers, cause one girl at the house said her friends were going to the river, and I told her to have them pick me up.  And pick me up they did.  :)
     So Portland was a blast as it always is, and it's why I always look forward to returning.  River sitting, park laying, song writing, firework firing, bonfire moonlighting strumming, and sunset watching on bluffs overlooking the river.

     It was time to head on from Portland, my next destination was south to Coquille, OR.  It is a 4 hour ride from Portland to Coquille, located south west close to Coos Bay.  I usually take the same route in and out, but this time I wanted to explore the alternative route which also looked like a more direct route than the one my google map was recommending.  And since I had time to kill, I did.  So what I did was, I filled my tank up in Eugene until it couldn't hold any more.  Then I headed an hour south to Roseburg.  I had to find the roads through town that would lead me to a small town called Lookingglass.  I shot down and out between cows and the open acres of no-mans-country bumpkin land and it was sooo beautiful.  I was two miles from the stop sign at the center of Lookingglass, and my fuel light went on.  I had gone 110 miles at that point.  I just looked at that low gas light and kept going, climbing the windy switchback single-lane road out of the flat grassy country basin, and into the tall trees.  I thought, "hey, if I run out of gas on this hill, I might as well get some good photos."  So, I pulled off onto some hunters lookout, among old campfire remains, overlooking the tip-tops of Oregon's finest ranges, and spent 22 shells, I took some picturesque scenic beauties.

the lookout

Pretty sure that's where I picked up the fleas.  And I would later find out that the area I was in is having a bad flea season, and the bite marks I was having weren't Mosquitos.  Hell, I don't blame em, after all I was wearing the same outfit for almost a month at that point.  Bon-appetite, fleas!  A day or two after the flea discovery, I shook em off and baked my clothes in a dryer for an hour to kill any larvae that might have been festering.

I spent a couple days in Coquille, and took a small day trip out to Coos Bay, for some burgers, free slurpees, a birthday present to myself (it's a surprise), some whiskey and plum wine, and I was back on the road to Arcata, CA, after I changed my front breaks.

My self-addressed birthday present.

      So here I was back in Arcata, CA, my home away from home.  What can I say, it's hard to leave, and impossible to stay away.  I went to a bike rally on Saturday and won a trophy for being the only other sportster in that judging class.  Some buddies and I camped out at Patrick's Point at the beginning of the week.  Exploring trails, playing catch, agate and moonstone hunting, and lazing on the beach is what we did best. 

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Photo of Patrick's Point, from Big Lagoon.

My little bear den.

It was soon July 19, another year was gone, and another year had dawn, it was my birthday! I had decided a few days earlier to play an open mic night at a local coffee shop the night of my birthday.

I told a few friends in the area, and we all had a lovely time enjoying the performances and the company we kept. Particularly my pitcher of apricot beer.  I stayed at the historic Arcata Hotel that night with my parents, in the two room suite overlooking the town plaza. That is one beautiful old hotel. A real sweet piece of the old northwest. I highly recommend it.

Arcata plaza: the view from 306.

completely exhausted

The next morning I saddled up and rode out east across the northern California landscape, from the redwoods coast to the tip of the Great Basin in Nevada.  It was new territory for me, as I'd never ridden the northeastern parts of California.  But I loved the terrain, and was sad it had been the first time I'd been out there, and it would be a while till I would make it back.
     The evening of my arrival in Reno, my friend took me to the infamous Mustang Ranch and Wild Horse brothels.  Sparkling red lights lit up the darkness.  It was spectacular.  Once inside the security checkpoint and cell phones put away, I had been given the divine opportunity and pleasure of selecting the lady of my choice to give us a personal tour of the establishments.  It was neat hearing about the history, and how they operate.  It was very eye-opening and impressive.  After the tour we sat at the bar and had drinks.  I of course chose a delicious dollar PBR.  I would go back any day just for drinks.  The conversation wasn't half bad either. ;)  Day 2 in Reno, we went into the hills for wild horses and some Virginia City.  I love that town.  I feel like I'm back in the wild west.  I bought a toy gun, some spurs, and a sheriffs badge.  I put em all on, and went to the bar.  What'd you expect?

like I said.

ridin dirty.

     Day 33 on the road and pointed home, only 177 miles to go before I rolled back into Sonora, CA.  I chose to ride the 395 down to the 108, becasue there is no other more beautiful way to go home than that drive.  The eastern Sierra has to be the most beautiful territory, hands down.  I made a pit stop at my friends parents house in Carson City, there was some birthday happenings, and I was on the road again.  Slow traffic had me passing over double yellows, and passing in the pullout lanes.  If you are slow as hell, pull the hell over!!!  Nothing makes me rage more than inconsiderate motorists.  So if you think I'm riding like a jackass, it's cause you're driving like an ass jack.  And I had a welcome home party to get drinking to.  It was evening, and humid, and before we knew it we were on the wooden porch under lightening and thunder, with torrential rains that had me running to pull the gear off my moto.  I wasn't going to have another brain bucket full of water like I'd dealt with up in Trinidad.

It was a great trip, with 45,030 overall bike/butt miles together over the years, and a trip total of 2,628 miles.  I'm now making another custom pair of jeans for a friend, and packing the necessities for a year and a half, when I'll be living in Phoenix, AZ, attending MMI, getting Harley Certified.

Thanks to everyone who helped make this trip amazing.

See you on the road!

(it was me)

Sometime the road just don't let ya go.

I've been on the road now for 23 days. I left with one pair of underwear, three pairs of sox (one pair fled), two t-shirts, a grey hoodie, my guitar and sleeping bag. Wearing the jeans and vest I made, I pulled my boots on, and started galavanting around the pacific northwest on my dear sweet moto. It was this 23rd day, two days away from home, that I found out I was changing course. That I wouldn't be home for another 7 to 10 days. A coastal camping trip is my most recent opportunity. So I'm taking it. By the end of next week I will have spent my birthday on the road, the way it should be.
So for now, I'm waking up slowly, with a coffee and an old western called One Eyed Jacks. I'm hitting the road at some point today. Just taking my time and aiming south. Saying goodbye to Oregon and hello to California.
There's way more adventure to tell, but that's going to all unravel when I land back at the homestead.
See you on the road!

Darn buzzards!

There was this one stretch of hwy 5 in Oregon, where there were large birds all flying around. So I'm thinking there must have been a watershed nearby. One moment I was in awe at the sight of a bald eagle flying across the road within 30 feet of my path. And another moment, just a mile further, there i was, when a giant buzzard decided to take off from the side of the road, into the roadway, in my lane and I had to duck my head way down cause it hadn't gained the height it needed to clear my path. My heard pounded slightly, and I knew it was a close one. But I had to laugh it off cause I'm sure the cars and trucks behind me had a good laugh at it for sure.

Road maintenance.

This morning I got up early so I could get to Harley when they opened so I could grab some rear brake pads before I headed to Portland. Seems as I was riding without some for a while. I didn't want to take the rest of the ride without em.

the new ones.

Summer 2012 northwest ride. Part 1

Hello everyone! It is trip time. I swear I don't purposely coordinate my unemployment with summer time but it seems to have been my lucky streak over the last few years. This time I moved out of LA and back up to the foothills right in time to have an open carefree summer to ride north and have one last good visit with my old friends before I move to Phoenix for the next year and a half attending MMI.

 

     For this trip I specially made a pair of jeans and a vest from scratch.  I finished the jeans a week earlier, but I had barely finished my vest in the wee hours of the departure morning.  I woke up early and busted out the finishing touches, and within an hour I was loaded up, caffeinated, and rolling out toward my storage unit in Angels Camp so I could put some lacquer on the horse I'd painted on my tank the day before.  I laid the lacquer on pretty light and then locked up and headed out Angels Camp down Hwy 4, which is a windy two lane road through the golden foothills to Stockton.  I had to make it to San Francisco by 4pm for the premiere of the movie I'd worked on last summer in LA.  So I was really watching the clock.  I made it within an hour to spare, and I picked up my buddy and we headed to the theater.  There are bars all around, so being as we had 10 minutes to spare, we'd have a couple minutes to throw a cold one back.  Being my special guest we had preferred seating, so we finished our drinks, ran across the street into the theater, I grabbed some popcorn and a soda, and we made our way to our seats, and the movie began.  Lots of laughter later, the movie was over, and we were headed to the after party.  A choice location for afternoon drink specials, and a nice balcony overlooking Market Street and a farmers market.  San Francisco was a nice 3 day relaxation.  And on the morning of the 4th day I met up with a group of women bikers whom are as i'd discover later were known as "Hot Rides."

 Our agenda was to end up in Fairfax, via some beautiful sunny coastal routes, while our friend and photographer Matt Sharkey, would take photos of us from the back of his car being driven by one of his assistants and occasionally he'd jump on the back of my bike and take photos of the group as I'd weave us in and out intimately close to the other bikers.  We gassed up our engines with coffee and food, and then rode around the outer Sunset and on up out of SF over the Golden Gate, through the Presidio, up to Stinson Beach, and to Bolinas.  Leaving Bolinas two of us separated from the group, when one gal had bike problems and I stayed back with her to make sure she was alright and if she needed any technical support.  A short minute of kick starts, and she got her bike running, but the group had already disappeared around the bends ahead. Well, I didn't know the route, so we just raced on to see if we could catch the group. But 5 minutes of fast riding and I saw nothing, so I suggested we turn around, cause we probably missed a turn somewhere.  Headed back, I recognized the road we'd come in on, turned onto it, and soon enough there was the group.  Finally relieved we'd cauth the group, we went in a masterful swarm of two lane exploration and beauty.  When we arrived at destination awesomeness in Fairfax after a bit of stunt riding, and big laughs, we were treated hospitably to BBQ and a bucket of cold beer. Yummy!!! .


Arcata: I decided to stay in Fairfax for two nights, so I could go on a hike in borrowed shorts and cowboy boots, and to get more special visiting time with my good friend Dalila. My last night I gave Matt and Dalila a concert of my newly written songs. (Ya see I travel with my Martin mini. One really great reason for my sissy bar.)


In the morning I hit the road for Arcata.  There was word on the weather forecast of northwest coastal showers, but I've ridden in tons of storms before, so I just said to hell with it, and rode on into the threatening gloom.  It wasn't bad at all.  The weather is sort of humid in the north west right now, so I wasn't even cold.  I kept my head low, ducked behind my Mexican blanket, tucked my clutch arm under my body, and the only thing that really got wet was my throttle arm, and my shins.  I rolled in all grins.
     I stayed this week in Arcata with my friend Maya, and an occasional overnighter here and there after parties.  I was made amazing breakfasts by my friend Marie.  And had some fun nights out with my friend Ali.  Hit the river once with my friends Sara and Marie, and stayed till Sunday for my friend
Will's birthday.
  

     Which brings me to now. It's late, but I wanted to type this out first before bed while it was in my mind.  I have to change my rear breaks first thing in the morning before I head up to Portland, because I don't even have any pads on them, and I have 400+ miles ahead of me tomorrow.   So in a sec it's alarm setting and lights out.  And until I write again, I'll have more fun maintenance and travel stories for you.

See you on the road.