| Author | Message | ||
     Jerry_haughton |
Unibear/Glenn, remember our guides (Jeff and his son) who escorted us up Indian Valley Road north of San Miguel? and remember our roomies in Monterey Russ and Vicki? turns out Russ and Jeff are old friends from the Los Angeles area, and Russ was flabbergasted when he realized that the story Jeff was telling after the Laguna weekend about this couple on a blue FJR and a guy on a black Buell who were looking for Indian Valley Road was about US!!! anyway, to all, the following is Russ' account of the MotoGP weekend with his new (and new to riding) friend Vicki, as posted on the LABikers rider's forum, which Denise and i received yesterday in the form of an e-mail. it's a GREAT read and a fun, entertaining spin on an awesome, unforgettable weekend. enjoy! Ferris & Denise ps: Russ and Vicki did Laguna two-up on a Honda SuperHawk ( the "Shawk" ), not known as the ultimate touring-for-two motorcycle, under some pretty severe time constraints, with unbridled enthusiasm and genuine grace, and have earned our utmost respect for their passion of the ride.   Jeffers... I'm gonna use your comment as a start point for this Laguna Seca ramble... >> They also asked me where Indian Valley was, they had been there with a map trying to figure it out and asking for directions before I got there. << This turned out to be our friends Jerry & Denise two-up on the FJR1300 riding with their friend Glenn. J & D live about a block from Hwy 155 in Wofford Heights. Seems they have NICKnamed Hwy 155 *The Bostrom* [due credit to Arlene Sabatino -- FB]. As to our trip to Laguna: I guess Laguna started on Tuesday morning when I was over to your house mounting a new rear Dunlop. That and completing the sheepskin seat cover a day prior marked bike prep for the trip. The only chance for Vicki to test the sheepskin was a visit to the stables Thursday night because she was in summer school final exam mode all last week. It got the nod. Backstory...I hadn't really intended to go to Laguna but Denise and Jerry invited us to stay with them so I put it on a side-burner. Then, about 3 weeks before race weekend I was talking with Diane who resoundingly lectured me about MotoGP never being the same. Being the race-dork I am I said something about thinking MotoGP was just World Superbike and what's the big deal. 10 minutes later I got a word in edgewise (g). Not being entirely sure, I called Squidboy. 10 minutes later... 8-) With these chats in mind I told Vicki what was up and she agreed we'd make it happen (not an easy thing for her on many levels). Toward this end, I was commissioned to call Denise and accept their too kind offer, then I was to find and retain a suitable horse baby-sitter. It also became my role to pack since Vicki really had not a second to spare prior to departure. By 4 pm Friday horsecare was arranged and bike was packed but the radio announced a 6-car pile up on the 605 - it was a parking lot. At 5:30 pm when Vicki got off w*rk, we decided to eat dinner first. Vicki's longest day 'til now was 220 miles. With rest breaks and gas stops and a 'conservative' bomb run pace for 375 miles we reached [their motel in] Monterey at 3:00 am. Denise was kind enough to manage a hug and smile while letting us in. I can't thank she and Jerry enough. Saturday we sorta slept in. Woke up at 9 but it was about noon by the time we had eaten (great fish market/restaurant a block from the motel), cruised Canary Row and were underway to the track. While all the literature said to use alternate access routes I headed straight for the main gate and we were waved right in. Kewl. No special HRCA parking area though. Bummer. Otoh, parking was ok, ended up on the hill directly behind turn two and thought maybe to see LAB folks. Looked around but no sightings. Watched MotoGP qualifying a while and headed to the infield vendor tents. By then, I'd guess we had seen at least 3,000 of the 100,000 people in attendance and No LABikers. What's up with that??? Oh wait. I look out from the Honda tent. There's Dan Wang. Hey Dan! ...but Dan doesn't look up and we're too far apart for earshot. Didn't see anyone else the rest of Saturday. Vicki loved all the activity and really got into the whole scene. Sat on a couple Hondas including the CB250 Nighthawk then headed to the Kawasaki tent. She fits the EX250 really well. The EX500 felt like a slug. Is it my imagination or is the 500 "heavy"??? Watched the karts from T4 to T5. Geeezzooo. Those things are bonkers. Zoom zoom zoom zoom zoom. While we were deciding whether to head to the Corkscrew the last race of the day (AMA Superbike) went out on the track. Fearing gnarly traffic issues we opted to go back to the bike and depart. Another review of the T2 crowd, still no LABikers sighted. I know, I know...get new glasses. Tanx youse. Exit traffic was a non-issue and we easily reached the motel in plenty of time to get cleaned up and head down to the Row. Since we had cruised it in the morning, Vicki had an idea what to expect. Seemed kinda odd as it wasn't entirely full of bikes. IMO closing to ALL traffic at 4pm is too early. Too bad it's being handled this way. Dinner with Jerry, Denise & Glenn included the usual tales of the roads taken to Laguna. Denise and Jerry started describing their ride. Seems they got over to the area of Hwy 101 and San Miguel via Parkfield and were trying to find out how to get to a certain road, Indian Valley. They had asked several local people for directions (all different) when some guy wearing a tattered gray Stich on a Concours with his son two-up stopped and chatted a bit. He told them where the road was and proceeded to lead them to it. They were very impressed. I asked if the guy had a pony tail...uh yep... So...Jeffers...thanks for helping out our friends! Small world! Sunday morning we had to fully pack before going to the track. With that done we hit the road. Took the back entrance this time. It wasn't long before we reached a line of autos that went all the way to the horizon, miles. Bikes, however, were using the right shoulder and it took about 30 minutes to get all the way to the track. Tough situation for the cars though. Parked in the same lot. Another review of T2 hill. Yet again, no LAB sightings. 8-( As soon as we could, we headed back to the infield ("to see everything" quoting Vicki). She has the bug (g). Our ultimate goal was to get to the Corkscrew for the GP at 2 pm. Sat two-up on a Burgman. Pretty nice. Went to the Honda tent. Big crowd inside with arms in the air. Free bandanas or something. They fired up the 4 cylinder. Woo-freaking-hooo! Found out they were running the 6 in the morning but the sound of the 4 was sweet!!! Haven't listened to the video clip and I don't expect it to represent, only provide recall but what a sound! Eventually got around to sitting on the Wing. Vicki made sounds like a kitten rolling up on a thick goosedown pillow. Most Utterly Kewl. We'll rent one some time. She also liked the ST1300. Not so good on the VFR. Made her knees bend too far and the seat was uncomfortable. She's kinda grown to like the Shawk. It's performance earned it permanent keeper status on the way home but more on that in a second. Strolled the rest of the vendor tents and headed for the Dunlop bridge. Doc. I was telling Vicki about Doc just a few days ago. For those newer to the list and who don't know, Doc was my dentist. Excellent dental care. LIfetime motorcyclist. One day in 1987 or early 1988, I walked into his office with a butterfly bandaid holding my chin together after having bashed my chin with a faceplant into the dirt bike handlebars. Doc cracked up. Pointed at his chin. He's got the same scar. Doc also talked Nate [Russ' son -- FB] and I into riding enduros with him in 1988 or so. This guy put crowns on me when I was 16 years old that are still going strong! He retired and closed his practice about 5 years ago and I have only seen him once since (at the 2003 December Bike Show). I believe he is somewhere over 60 years of motorcycling by now. Meanwhile back at Laguna, Vicki and I are starting up the Dunlop bridge when a guy sorta steps between us. Step step step. I'm looking at the back of his head and wondering if he knows he kinda moved between us...then I start to realize I recognize the hat/head combo. "Doc?" Sure enough! Chat about how he's fully restored his 1968 Triumph and is having a blast. Big smiles. Over the years we've ridden enduros, dual sports and more than a few thousand street miles including Utah in June. Small world! Moving along, Vicki and I started up the hill. MotoGP ran their sighting lap while we were near the bridge over the Corkscrew. Up on the hill where the motorhomes park, Vicki spotted Denise by looking for her stylin' hat. She was right where she said to look for them perched on the deck of a motorhome [the Love Shack! -- FB] waving us up. Great view of the bikes coming down the Corkscrew and through T9 from the deck of the motorhome. After the GP we said good-byes and started back to the bike. Another gander at T2 while the 600's were getting underway. *Still* not seeing any LABikers. Sitting at the exit of the parking area, a silver Duc is waving...SSarah! Kewl. Hoping to exit via the main gate, we headed over but it was gated and policed. Backtrack. Passing T2, I hear "Hey Russ!" from the people walking. Hmmm, *finally* bunch of LABikers! Dale, Frank...et al... Dale, nicely done on the LAB brick! Didn't get over to look for it - dern. Next time. Exit traffic was easy. Unfortunately, due to the exit sending us west we didn't get to Salinas until after 5 pm. Gassed up, hit the road home about 5:30 pm. Since Vicki had to be at w*rk in the morning this was another bomb run down 101/46/5. Wicked it up and started running with the faster flow at 80-90 mph. Vicki didn't seem to mind. Gas in Paso Robles at the 100 mile mark. Without a break she says, "let's go," when the tank was full. I didn't even get off the bike. Over Hwy 46 we went into definite hooligan mode. Rode most open sections a bit into triple digits with roll-ons passing cars usually one by one, sometimes three or four. Great fun!! Hit 128 mph indicated as the trip's high speed on a straight empty stretch near the Parkfield turn off. By the time we got near Buttonwillow it was sundown. Saw a pair of interesting 3 wheeled cars at the gas pumps. Guy said he and his partner were building them from scratch in his garage and they're looking to make a market. Haven't looked at pix yet. Vicki was chomping at the bit to get going again so I didn't get off the bike (again) and didn't find out anything else about the 3 wheelers except to note they were open wheeled in front, lowslung and looked wicked fast. The plan was to make dinner the next stop. 75 miles down the road we were at Carl's Jr in Gorman. Explaining she can't see the needle on the speedo, Vicki asks if we ever went 100 mph? Told her the 128 indication back on Hwy 46. Her eyes got big and she burst into a grin. Asked if we were squids. "Uhm, not so much," I said. "Hooligans." "What about back there on the hill?" (the uphill section of I-5 heading to Gorman) "What about it?" I ask. "Isn't passing on the right being a squid?" "Oh, uh. Yeah, sorta, maybe. A little." Seemed complicated to note we were passing in the truck lane and that it was one of those situations where vehicles in all the other lanes had lined up coincidentally blocking the whole road's flow. One has to do what one has to do. Quick mirror check - lanes behind us clear. Swerve right, pass them all. Only took a second or two but - arguably kinda squidly, kinda sorta. Other than that, hooligans. "OK," she says, eyes sparkling. "Let's go fast some more!" "We're kinda getting into town. Gotta bring it down a notch or two, but we'll do what we can." 8-) <sesame street Ms piggy voice/ "Hey little guy, is that a chapstick in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" /Ms piggy> Ulp.  Rode the final 90+ miles to Long Beach without incident. Arrived about 12:15 am. Not bad for another 375 mile day started in the evening. Final analysis: Vicki has declared the Shawk is a keeper regardless of any future bike acquisitions. She had a great time. Loved the race scene, loved the riding, no issues with motion sickness. Made no effort to clock a long ton. Great weekend! -Russ "Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother." Kahlil Gibran (Message edited by jerry_haughton on July 20, 2005) | ||
| Bomber |
great report -- thanks for posting it sir! am I the onliest one to notice that the man had the courage to pack for his riding partner? I'd sooner ride a Rokon coast to coast! I can imagine the converstion the first night out -- "waddya mean you need more than a pair o sox a day, day X .5 tshirts, and I forgot your "sundries?" what are those?" this man has demonstrated true courage, backbone, and brass, er, ones . . . . I salute him! | ||
| Denisea |
this man has demonstrated true courage, backbone, and brass, er, ones . . . . I salute him! Gotta love BOTH of them. | ||
| Sleez |
verrry kewwwwl!!!! | ||
| Bomber |
D -- very good point! I stand, er, sit, happily corrected! | ||
| Unibear12r |
And they were just great to meet and spend time with! Charming, fun & interesting. | ||
| Jerry_haughton |
it's been almost two weeks since Laguna, and i still can't come down. that's a Good Thing. more about "Jeffers." we're sitting in San Miguel, having just FINALLY found fuel (no worries on the FJR, but we made Unibear's low fuel light ignite THREE times today, in just over 400 miles...), and NO ONE can tell us exactly how to find Indian Valley Road. we asked about a dozen locals, and got about two dozen answers. it was comical, actually. one fellow, bless his misguided heart, actually took the time to draw Denise a highly-detailed map. it only took a moment of gandering to realize that this guy was a charter member of the "Dyslexics Have More Fnu" club, as his route had us heading east and south out of town (pretty much the way we'd just come), when we were REALLY trying to go north and then west. like a shimmery vision on a hot desert horizon a Kawasaki Concours pulled up. i'm not entirely sure how the initial conversation went, as i was busy asking the Budweiser delivery driver how to find Indian Valley Road. (when in doubt, ask the local beer truck driver, right???) he, very youngly and politely and apologetically, said he had no clue. shazbot. meanwhile, back at the ranch, Concours pilot (and son), who were, they said, needing fuel, learned of our plight and offered to guide us to The Promised Land. what about their fuel situation, i asked Denise, thinking there was little to be had in the way we were headed. she said they said no worries, we've got enough. so we followed them out of San Miguel (a BIG town, San Miguel, takes about 30 seconds to hit the city limits in any direction) at a Pretty Good Clip. cool, hate being backed up behind motor homes, two-wheeled or four. turns out we'd passed the turn-off for Indian Valley on the bomb run in from Parkfield, but we all never really saw it, as the road from Parkfield to San Miguel is just this side of mesmerizing. (am pretty sure we'll be riding it NEXT year on the way to Laguna, too, in case you think we're just this side of batty about the "mesmerizing" part and wanna come with us and check it out for yourself.) Jeffers and Co. set a safe, sane, and – importantly – spirited pace, and we quickly settled in. Indian Valley Road is, it would seem, the way one used to get from here to there, before Highway 101. Highway 101, as highways go, ain't particularly bad, and is actually particularly delish in spots, but today was a day for the long way, and Indian Valley Road was exactly what we were looking for. soon enough we needed around. Jeffers was humping, but by now i was in a rhythm, and i found myself unintentionally (okay, maybe there was a LITTLE thought in the process) pushing him in the corners. it took a bit to finally make a clean, SAFE pass, then, as usual, i discovered that it's always easier to follow than lead on an unknown road. still, we managed to scrape a peg or two (occasionally intentionally), and hopefully didn't look too inept in the process. in a bit we reached the north end of Indian Valley, where we needed to hang a left and carry on to the coast. i wasn't exactly sure what our guide had in mind, and as we coasted to a stop i snapped off the ignition so's we could chat. Jeffers and his boy slowed ALMOST to a stop at the intersection, shouted a hearty hi-ho and fare-thee-well, and wicked it onward to the north, in the direction of Hollister. we barely had a chance to holler "Thank you!!!" not bad for an entirely chance encounter with good friends of good friends in the wilds of Central California, and not bad for someone who a half hour earlier was looking for fuel, who immediately and with great enthusiasm abandoned their quest for juice, led us to Val Haul La, and never even slowed down long enough to receive the proper gratitude. Jeffers (and son), if you have ever have occasion to read this, THANK YOU for adding a very too cool chapter to our Laguna weekend. we know you know where Lake Isabella is ( "Gateway to Ferrisville!" ), and we're always ready to return the favor. FB&D  | ||
| Chairman2rgm |
Bomber writes... >> am I the onliest one to notice that the man had the courage to pack for his riding partner? <snip> and I forgot your "sundries?" what are those?" << Sucking it up and getting some nerve (three deep breaths): Erm, I shop for her 'sundries' too. (g) -chairman | ||
| Denisea |
okay Russ, VERY brave man.  | ||
| Bomber |
Russ -- me too, if given a very specific list -- I'm guessin generic sundries would not be appreciated, but I can happily fill requests I'd better watch out, or I'll be labelled a "swank leftie" again ;-} |
