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Rightly up until the last few hours on Friday night before the rally I wasn’t sure I could make it. But, due in large part to blessings and urgings from SWMBO, I decided to “go for it.” I would say “God love um: y’ can’t live with um, and y’ can’t live without um. No?” But then I would sound “sexist.” So I won’t.
After work Friday I threw some things together and jammed up the express rout to Sacramento CA. I’m very familiar with this route, since I have cousins in law there who invite us up a couple of times a year for Thanksgiving, Hanukah, or Christmas. (Don’t even want to get into that right now!) I arrived late and got up early (7:00 A.M. A little aside, I realize this is “sleeping in” for many people!)
On the road @ 7:30 A.M.’, I jammed the rest of the way up “50” to South Lake Tahoe, and to the Carrow’s Restaurant next to the “Motel 6?” I was well met by some “old timers,” and was introduced to our newest, and next to Hobbyman, one of the youngest Xsive riders on this web site. I am very sorry that I forgot your name, buddy: please fill us in!
On Saturday’s ride we had 14 riders. DiverRay was our fearless leader, and yours truly was delegated the position of riding “tail.” In between were: Cody, “Maximan,” from Oklahoma, on a highly modified ’82 Maxim; Miles, on an XS11 from Colorado; Brent, a retired fireman from Georgia who rode with us on his Harley Road King; Bohn Frazier who rode from Kansas on his XS11S to ride with us; PopRock, who’s real name I didn’t get; Mason79 who road up with PlaneDick from the L.A. area; Matt and his wife of two years, Cody; Pat Kelly who road his XS11 up from Modesto CA; Ron Veil, AKA “Uncle Spot,” Rode up with Pat from Modesto. If I have left anyone out, I apologize: please help fill in the blanks.
We rode over to Carson City Nevada, then up to Virginia City, where we took a 2-hour sight seeing and lunch stop. Brent, our retired fireman guest was particularly interested in the fire-fighting museum. We then headed back the way we came and climbed over the Monitor Pass to Markleyville, where we took another break around “beer thirty.” I hate to shatter the biker image, but I was the only one to actually imbibe. We were back in S.L.T by 6:00, in time for Supper.
We met at the usual time Sunday morning for breakfast. DiverRay and a party of riders I knew were bound for Oregon, up the California coast. What I didn’t know was that the first stop was to be Alice’s Restaurant on Hwy 35 in the Santa Cruz Mountains, which is in my stomping grounds. I also didn’t realize the number of riders involved. So, instead of riding home by myself, I suddenly found myself having seven riders for company on my ride home. But instead of back roads, Ray opted for the express route: Hwy. 50 through Sacramento (follow along on your map here,) to 80 W., to 680 S., across the Dumbarton Bridge, through Palo Alto and Menlo Park, and up 84 through Woodside to Alice’s Restaurant.
Ray did a commendable job as ride honcho. With 8 to 14 riders, most from out of the area and unfamiliar with the local highway manners, (and lack of same,) it was important to keep the group together. Ray told these guys before we left Tahoe that we needed to ride in a staggered formation and to keep our ranks close, or a cage would almost certainly cut into the middle of us and break up our pack. There were two riders (I won’t say who,) who were chronic stragglers, and sure enough just outside of Sacramento, some idiot in a cage decided to make a last minute exit from the #1 lane right across our pack, and gave us the old ½ of a peace sign when one of our group honked at him.
I was delegated to ridding tail: a largely thankless task. Since Ray and I have been ridding together for some 3 years, we are used to each other’s styles, and we have each other on our cell phones. It seemed to make perfect sense, that if Ray was leading, that I should ride tail in case anyone dropped out or had some problem. But after the incident described above, ridding tail took on another important function: i.e. keeping the pack compressed. The new rule was that if I pulled up alongside the rider in front of me, he needed to speed up. If anyone had a rider behind him pull along side, he needed to speed up. I know there are some who think this is too regimented, but I think it is really cool to see a pack of bikes riding in a tight staggered formation down a freeway.
We arrived at Alice’s around 4:30 all in one piece, and joined the usual throng of bikers and exotic cars that gather there every weekend. Highway 35 is also known as Skyline Drive. It runs down the backbone of the Santa Cruz Mountains, and there are places where one can see the South Bay on one side, and the Pacific Ocean on the other. It is a very popular ride for all kinds of riders.
There we parted company. I headed south to hwy 9 and Boulder Creek, leaving the rest of the gang who were headed north, up the coast to Oregon. Photos will have to wait until everyone else gets home.
Epilog
I guess I should have stayed home and taken care of business. One of the things I had not moved from the old house that we are moving out of was my parts bike. The landlord’s son hauled every thing left at the old house to the dump. The S.O.B. I’m so pissed! They are remodeling and the place won’t be rented out for months, so it’s not like it was in their way.
After work Friday I threw some things together and jammed up the express rout to Sacramento CA. I’m very familiar with this route, since I have cousins in law there who invite us up a couple of times a year for Thanksgiving, Hanukah, or Christmas. (Don’t even want to get into that right now!) I arrived late and got up early (7:00 A.M. A little aside, I realize this is “sleeping in” for many people!)
On the road @ 7:30 A.M.’, I jammed the rest of the way up “50” to South Lake Tahoe, and to the Carrow’s Restaurant next to the “Motel 6?” I was well met by some “old timers,” and was introduced to our newest, and next to Hobbyman, one of the youngest Xsive riders on this web site. I am very sorry that I forgot your name, buddy: please fill us in!
On Saturday’s ride we had 14 riders. DiverRay was our fearless leader, and yours truly was delegated the position of riding “tail.” In between were: Cody, “Maximan,” from Oklahoma, on a highly modified ’82 Maxim; Miles, on an XS11 from Colorado; Brent, a retired fireman from Georgia who rode with us on his Harley Road King; Bohn Frazier who rode from Kansas on his XS11S to ride with us; PopRock, who’s real name I didn’t get; Mason79 who road up with PlaneDick from the L.A. area; Matt and his wife of two years, Cody; Pat Kelly who road his XS11 up from Modesto CA; Ron Veil, AKA “Uncle Spot,” Rode up with Pat from Modesto. If I have left anyone out, I apologize: please help fill in the blanks.
We rode over to Carson City Nevada, then up to Virginia City, where we took a 2-hour sight seeing and lunch stop. Brent, our retired fireman guest was particularly interested in the fire-fighting museum. We then headed back the way we came and climbed over the Monitor Pass to Markleyville, where we took another break around “beer thirty.” I hate to shatter the biker image, but I was the only one to actually imbibe. We were back in S.L.T by 6:00, in time for Supper.
We met at the usual time Sunday morning for breakfast. DiverRay and a party of riders I knew were bound for Oregon, up the California coast. What I didn’t know was that the first stop was to be Alice’s Restaurant on Hwy 35 in the Santa Cruz Mountains, which is in my stomping grounds. I also didn’t realize the number of riders involved. So, instead of riding home by myself, I suddenly found myself having seven riders for company on my ride home. But instead of back roads, Ray opted for the express route: Hwy. 50 through Sacramento (follow along on your map here,) to 80 W., to 680 S., across the Dumbarton Bridge, through Palo Alto and Menlo Park, and up 84 through Woodside to Alice’s Restaurant.
Ray did a commendable job as ride honcho. With 8 to 14 riders, most from out of the area and unfamiliar with the local highway manners, (and lack of same,) it was important to keep the group together. Ray told these guys before we left Tahoe that we needed to ride in a staggered formation and to keep our ranks close, or a cage would almost certainly cut into the middle of us and break up our pack. There were two riders (I won’t say who,) who were chronic stragglers, and sure enough just outside of Sacramento, some idiot in a cage decided to make a last minute exit from the #1 lane right across our pack, and gave us the old ½ of a peace sign when one of our group honked at him.
I was delegated to ridding tail: a largely thankless task. Since Ray and I have been ridding together for some 3 years, we are used to each other’s styles, and we have each other on our cell phones. It seemed to make perfect sense, that if Ray was leading, that I should ride tail in case anyone dropped out or had some problem. But after the incident described above, ridding tail took on another important function: i.e. keeping the pack compressed. The new rule was that if I pulled up alongside the rider in front of me, he needed to speed up. If anyone had a rider behind him pull along side, he needed to speed up. I know there are some who think this is too regimented, but I think it is really cool to see a pack of bikes riding in a tight staggered formation down a freeway.
We arrived at Alice’s around 4:30 all in one piece, and joined the usual throng of bikers and exotic cars that gather there every weekend. Highway 35 is also known as Skyline Drive. It runs down the backbone of the Santa Cruz Mountains, and there are places where one can see the South Bay on one side, and the Pacific Ocean on the other. It is a very popular ride for all kinds of riders.
There we parted company. I headed south to hwy 9 and Boulder Creek, leaving the rest of the gang who were headed north, up the coast to Oregon. Photos will have to wait until everyone else gets home.
Epilog
I guess I should have stayed home and taken care of business. One of the things I had not moved from the old house that we are moving out of was my parts bike. The landlord’s son hauled every thing left at the old house to the dump. The S.O.B. I’m so pissed! They are remodeling and the place won’t be rented out for months, so it’s not like it was in their way.
Just bought a 1980 Special that has been non oped for 9 years. My Skoot will rise from the ashes and be re named "The Phoenix!"
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