I am a motorcyclist, an LDRider, and, the good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, an Iron Butt Rally competitor. The entire day was spent being what I am. Sure, I did other, non-motorcycling things to get through the day. We all have to spend the 24 hours doing something. But I am reminded of the old Gary Larson cartoon, because my internal dialogue sounds like this, “blah blah blah motorcycles blah blah motorcycles blah blah blah blah.”
It started when I got dressed in my Cal 24 rally shirt. You know, the one with the bullet holes in it. I'm taking a class in Santa Clara, and yesterday the instructor showed us a photo of his kids at a pistol range. Of course I wanted to tell him my own interesting story about shooting pistols.
At home in the morning I had a few spare minutes before it was time to leave. I worked on mounting two Heat Troller control knobs to my new brake reservoir switch box. This fine piece of metalwork and powdercoat is supplied by BLM Accessories. It’s so pretty I could just look at it for awhile. But, holes must be drilled and so they were.
I took the freeway to the class location. It was the morning commute so I split lanes for a few miles. Ghod I love being able to do that legally! California is a great place to be a motorcyclist.
In between the blah blah, I surfed my usual web forums and made my hotel reservations for Spartanburg. Read a funny post by Paul Allison about farkling his rental bike in the parking lot while all the other riders are relaxing. I’m really enjoying the banter and chat among next year’s riders.
At lunch I rode to the Santa Clara County Superior Courthouse and took a photo. This is part of my California Courthouse series. Nice building. Seven down, 51 to go.
I counted the minutes until the class was over because I had plans. The instructor had said yesterday that today would be an early day. Ever since then I’ve been salivating over today’s ride home. I’m going up and over Mount Hamilton and taking the back way to Livermore. Why ride 40 miles on the freeway when you can ride 100 miles on twisty and deserted back roads? :grin:
Quimby Road is a transitional road that starts in the city and then climbs and twists its way into the wilderness. By the time you hit Mt. Hamilton Road your tires are warm and you’re getting into the groove.
In this shot, James Lick Observatory looks impossibly far away. It’s way high up at the top of the mountain. In reality it only took twenty minutes to get there. An amazing twenty minutes. I spent most of it in second gear, either braking into a turn or accelerating out of one.
The last time I was here was on Day 9 of the 07 IBR. My nominal excuse to be there was to meet Paul Peloquin and give him some moral support. But really I just wanted to be there to soak in the aura of the rally. It will be impossible for me to make that ride ever again without thinking of that morning.
Link to photos.Once at the top I staged the bonus photo with my bike instead of a rally flag.
Here’s the view looking back the way I had come. I hadn’t noticed any fog or haze on the ride up, but it’s obviously there. It’s going to be foggy tonight.
The last time this fuel cell was at Mount Hamilton it was attached to Rebecca Vaughn's black R1100RS. Then it DNF'd the Spank rally behind me on my red RS. Now it's been cleaned up and mounted to my FJR. It'll be taking its third ride in the IBR next year. If only it could talk.
The valley behind the mountain is really the middle of nowhere. I didn’t see another car for at least an hour. It was just me and the cows.
This landscape is typical of the California terrain that I love so much. It’s all rolling hills, brown grasses, oak trees, and the smell of bay leaves. You see this all over the state, from the Sierra foothills to the coastal ranges, north and south. When I am in this landscape I know I am home. It feels good. I quicken the pace.
At dusk the light glowed golden and I had to try to capture it.
Eventually I reached Livermore and civilization. When I got home I greeted my daughter with an extra happy kiss. I realized that I was in a good mood because I had gone for a ride. After dinner I thought about continuing work on the Heat Troller project, but didn’t get the time. I tried to shift gears so that the motorcycle stuff turned into the blah blah, and the words I heard were from my family. It was a struggle. As I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep I saw visions of brown grasses, oak trees, and a twisty road.
