Well, this will be a bit different using my phone to post, but here goes. I started the day with a tasty breakfast burrito at The Daily Grind with Gabe and Marck to see me off. Setting out at about 8:15, I could tell it was going to be a pretty grey day up the coast. I was surprised how moist the tarmac was in places along highway 1. Fortunately, I didn't have any problems with traction. Traffic was light, so I settled into a brisk pace and didn't stop for photos until I arrived at the Bixby Bridge north of Big Sur. It's pretty incredible that it was built back in 1932 and still in pretty good shape. Standing at the edge of the vista there reminded me that for much of the drive, I was several hundred feet above the beach. In the second photo, you can barely make out some people that were down on the beach, giving one an idea if the scale we're talking about.
After the stop at the bridge, I rode a bit further until I came upon a sign that had given Kitty the giggles a month prior on our trip to Monterey. The woman who was tinkering with her truck's battery said that the people who put the sign out actually sell Redwood trees. Allrightythen.
I motored onward through Monterey up to Santa Cruz where I took a break and topped up the tank. If
America is a melting pot, Santa Cruz is like Jackson Pollack dipped his brush in that pot and went apeshit. So much people watching, so little time.
I decided against my original plan to ride up highway 9, thinking there would be a lot of weekend traffic. Instead, I soldiered on up highway 1 and headed inland at Pescadero. I'm glad I did, as Pescadero Creek Road was nearly traffic free and very scenic. I stopped about halfway to Skyline Blvd to snap some photos of an old bridge and the redwoods that lined either side of the road. So pretty - I wish we had forests like this in SoCal. Weaving further up 84, I finally came to the intersection at Skyline and saw Alice's restaurant. Alice's is to the S.F. peninsula what The Rock Store is to the Santa Monica mtns. It's a motorcyclist's mecca, where they all stop to take a break and a meal after riding the amazing roads that surround and lead to Alice's. Of course I had to stop for a bite. After my tasty chicken sandwich, I bought my first souvenir of the trip: a t-shirt with Steve McQueen on the back - totally badass. The only bike there that really caught my eye (other than the Norton Commando that sped away before I could get a photo) was the little trail 70 like my friend Justin used to have when we were kids. Fond memories riding around on that little bike. It seemed out of place among all the sportbikes, but cool none the less.
After the stop at the bridge, I rode a bit further until I came upon a sign that had given Kitty the giggles a month prior on our trip to Monterey. The woman who was tinkering with her truck's battery said that the people who put the sign out actually sell Redwood trees. Allrightythen.
I motored onward through Monterey up to Santa Cruz where I took a break and topped up the tank. If
America is a melting pot, Santa Cruz is like Jackson Pollack dipped his brush in that pot and went apeshit. So much people watching, so little time.
I decided against my original plan to ride up highway 9, thinking there would be a lot of weekend traffic. Instead, I soldiered on up highway 1 and headed inland at Pescadero. I'm glad I did, as Pescadero Creek Road was nearly traffic free and very scenic. I stopped about halfway to Skyline Blvd to snap some photos of an old bridge and the redwoods that lined either side of the road. So pretty - I wish we had forests like this in SoCal. Weaving further up 84, I finally came to the intersection at Skyline and saw Alice's restaurant. Alice's is to the S.F. peninsula what The Rock Store is to the Santa Monica mtns. It's a motorcyclist's mecca, where they all stop to take a break and a meal after riding the amazing roads that surround and lead to Alice's. Of course I had to stop for a bite. After my tasty chicken sandwich, I bought my first souvenir of the trip: a t-shirt with Steve McQueen on the back - totally badass. The only bike there that really caught my eye (other than the Norton Commando that sped away before I could get a photo) was the little trail 70 like my friend Justin used to have when we were kids. Fond memories riding around on that little bike. It seemed out of place among all the sportbikes, but cool none the less.
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