Cycling With Marty- page 2
Walking in the rain.
|We stopped for gas
in Reedsport, OR, and the battery was still dead. We found a
small motorcycle shop which had the correct battery, so while it charged
we enjoyed a spicy Mexican meal.
Once again we were off, and gradually the rain tappered to nothing. We crossed into California, and two hours later, about 7 P.M. we arrived in Eureka, CA, our stop for the night. I called the motel to say we would be late, and we immediately rode the long causeway across Eureka Bay to Samoa Island. Samoa Island has long been a major lumber processing center and still has a large mill.
In days past, the loggers stayed in dormitory style lodging, and ate meals at the Samoa Cookhouse. The Samoa Cookhouse is still operating, a large wood framed building with dormer windows running down its length. Marty and I were taken to one of the long tables where we were seated with other guests, and then the food started being placed in front of us. We had a thick, rib-sticking, split pea soup, a big bowl of salad, fried chicken, roast ham, corn, and for dessert, fresh berry pie with obscene amounts of whipped cream. It is all you can eat, and after a day of riding in the rain, we got our money's worth.
Marty on his Nighthawk.
|In the morning, we
headed on down Hwy101 from Eureka, which was now a four lane
highway. The weather was dry and comfortable, and for three hours we
rode the sweeping curves as this highway wound through the forests and
giant redwoods of Northern California. Eventually, we settled into
the wine country and the Napa Valley, and the road was straighter, but
with decidedly more traffic.
In Santa Rosa, we paused to buy Marty a new set of mirrors, as he had one flopping in the wind. Through Marin County the traffic and the wind picked up, until, approaching the Golden Gate Bridge, we were in very gust conditions. At the bridge, we stopped at the lookout to enjoy the view of San Francisco, but then crossed the bridge and connected with Hwy280 for our night's stop in San Mateo. Rob and Kathy McIlvoy, with their animated family, were our hosts for the night. They had been dorm parents at Black Forest Academy, in Germany, so Marty was soon passing the latest news concerning the school and friends.
Golden Gate Bridge.
|We got an early
start the next morning, as it was our object to ride from San Francisco to
the L.A. area in time for a birthday picnic. The Sunday morning
traffic was light, so we moved quickly down the Peninsula on Hwy 101
towards Gilmore. There we cut across to Hwy 5, and drove that
boring, but busy freeway all the way to Orange County. We made it to
the picnic, and and completed a very satisfying four day ride in the