Lost Coast 2009, Details part 1

[pictures "clickable" for larger view]

Tardiness apology - These adventure blogs take significant time to write, and sometimes I'm just not in the mood. And there was no internet access or cell phone coverage in most of the areas, so had to wait until I got back to get the details documented. Here's some of the details of the first part of the trip...

The ride across the hot valley was really warm, and in deciding to stay off the major freeways, I opened myself up to delay after delay with road construction. It was the type where one direction is closed off, and they make you wait (up to 20 minutes in some cases) until it's time for your direction to go. The first couple were no big deal, but by about the 6th one on Highway 16 and 20, it was beginning to get old fast. And each time seemed to be hotter and less shade than the last.

On one contruction wait, the flagman indicated at least 5 minutes, so not only did I shut off the motorcycle, but I actually pulled across the road to some shade under a tree. But by the time I dismounted, got my gloves and helmet off, and started sipping some water, the traffic was moving again. Although I hurried to get my gear back on, by the time I was mounted all the normal traffic my direction had gone and I ended up following a big water truck that was spraying water on the dirt and rock. Oh well, the bike was clean when I left the house...it's not now!

To keep my schedule and try to get to the Petrolia Grange by dark (without hitting major freeways), I ate a quick late morning lunch of cheese and crackers while standing at the gas pumps. But that wasn't enough food for the entire day with all the valley heat and riding effort, so backed that up with a McDonald's snack later on.

With all the contruction and delays, I arrived at Ft. Bragg late afternoon and it was cloudy and foggy and dark. Figured it was too late to attempt Highway 1 and the dirt roads at that point, so ended up getting cheap motel for the night. Found my way to a local Starbucks, and rested while watching the evening fog roll in. Here's a picture of the trees and fog at Ft Bragg that afternoon.

Here's a picture of my motorbike at a "rest stop" on the way to the coast. The weather cooled off nicely once I hit the coastal range, and luckily the wind kept the "mozzies" away.

The following morning, I started the day out knowing food would be limited this point forward, so I fueled up with a double Starbucks and Denny's breakfast. It was a short few miles up Highway 1 to the turn-off for Usal road (the dirt "haul" road I was determined to take on my way up to the Lost Coast). The weather was spectacular and from Highway 1, I had amazing views of the ocean blanketed with fog.

Brilliant views from atop Highway 1, north of Ft Bragg.

Even though I had the GPS waypoint plotted, the views and great "twisties" of the road drew my rapt attention and I somehow missed the turnoff to Usal road. I drove back the 5 miles and stopped for a few pictures. I was embarrased I had missed it, as someone had written in large letters "USAL" on the road pavement itself.

The start of Usal road...and the signs warning of rough roads and urging common sense to those about to take this treacherous stretch...

It curves up from Highway 1 and becomes a dirt road. Seems like a nice easy little dirt road...wonder how steep it gets later?!?

Usal road climbs steeply enough that first section that I ended up standing on the footpegs most of the ride both up and down that first mountain. The views of the ocean from the ridges on Usal were fabulous, and I took a few breaks along that first "easier" stretch.

These days they call Usal the "haul" road for more modern reasons, and the warning from the one 4x4 pickup I met was there was a newly felled tree across the road. It was assumed the reason was the local growers of California's infamous cash crop were transporting their merchandise to market along this isolated back road. Signs warning of trespass like this one were posted all along the road...

The view of the bay just above Usal Beach...

After climbing up one side and back down the other, and traversing a wooden bridge, I arrived at the Usal beach area.

Little did I know at the time this idealic venture was about to turn sour and I was going to compound the problem by making a really rookie mistake...trying to turn around on a steep dirt rutted off-camber hill on packed down overlander bike...

After passing through the Usal beach area, the road climbs the other side of the mountain, only it was much much steeper, off-camber, with some deep ruts. About the only thing going for it was it was dry at that point. So I stood up on the pegs and went for it. I stayed on the leeward side trying to stay out of the deepening ruts, and climbed steadily in first gear up the first hill.

The switchback turn was not so rutted but was seriously off-camber. I'm not the most experienced dirt rider (can we say "noob"?). But I managed to lean to the outside peg and make it around. Then standing on the pegs again, up the second steep hill, this time staying to the right (always the inside of the hill, so if I slipped at least it wouldn't be down the side of the cliff). Still doing ok. Then the next switchback, again, off-camber and seriously steep.

The "turnaround" -

It was the 3rd or 4th hill where things really got ugly for me. The road steepened, got narrower, and the ruts got deeper. I was halfway up when I realized if I needed to turn around and back out, there wasn't going to be any room to do so. In a panic, I realized my best chance of turning around was already behind me! So I made the worst mistake a rookie dirt rider with an overloaded bike could do in a situation like this...I stopped right there in the middle of the steep hill.

But the heavy Vstrom wasn't happy to stay stopped; the front tire started slipping backward...back down the hill. I applied more rear brake, and squeezed with all I was worth, and just barely got the bike stopped without sliding further backward out of control. The area behind me about 20 ft back seemed just a bit wider, and the rut not so deep. I figured that was my best chance to turn the bike around. My downhill foot wouldn't reach the ground with the deep camber angle plus the rut, so I had to rely on just my left foot and the brakes. I slowly slipped and slid my way backward to the point where I thought I could possibly get the beast turned.

At that point, I crammed the handlebars all the way to lock, and let the rear tire turn in until it touched the mountain. Another bad mistake...should have turned it the other way. As I slipped the clutch to move forward and turned the bars the other direction, I had to be careful to not lurch too far and go off the cliff. So I held front brake with two fingers while applying some power. It moved forward but the rear tire slipped into the deep rut. The rut plus the fact that the rear-end now faced uphill into the mountain meant I wasn't able to use my one foot to move the bike backwards; not even an inch.

I tried applying power and slipping the clutch in an attempt to rock the bike forward then back, and perhaps get myself out of the rut and backwards into the mountain. But the only thing that happened was the back wheel started spinning and losing traction. As the wheel spun, the whole bike slid sideways down the dirt road with the rear tire staying firmly in the rut. I ended up sliding about 10 feet further down the road, sideways, until the rut got a little more shallow and the rear tire finally started grabbing. At that point I was able to nudge the front tire toward downhill after a few more rocking motions, and eventually got the bike turned back down the steep road.

After making it down to the next switchback, I was shaky and soaked in sweat. I stopped right there and shut off the bike, and spent a few minutes gathering my composure. I was spent! But luckily had not dumped the bike in the process, so I was happy. After a few minutes, I restarted the bike and hoped I had enough energy to get up off the pegs for the up and down mountain I still had to complete before coming back out onto Highway 1. Somehow I managed, and arrived back at the turnoff where I began at about 4pm. I knew I still had about 3 hours drive up to my destination, so I got cracking.

That part of Highway 1 is awesome, with great motorcycle turns and switchbacks on good asphalt. After hitting US 101 for a few miles, I made my way to the town of Garberville around 5pm...just in time for a quick bite of dinner and coffee from the drive-through coffee hut in town.

There was a funky old hotel in town that gave me a creepy vibe, like the Norman Bates motel in Hitchcock's Psycho. So I took a picture of it...

I got back on the road, trying to beat the darkness, as it's dangerous to ride at night. Riding through the mountains was fantastic and luckily did not see any deer on the way. Have to say the smell of the local crops, this time of year being apparently harvest time, was ever-present on that ride from Garberville to Petrolia. And the "workers" all sat waiting for rides after an apparent long day's work, and they all appeared to wear the same uniforms; military fatigues. I kept moving as I drew long looks from the locals as I passed them by.

Even though it was getting pretty dark in the deepest parts of those woods, it would be wonderfully sunny and warm just over the rises. At one of those more friendly parts, I paused for a quick break and a picture of the bike on its journey.

I finally arrived at the Petrolia Grange at about 7pm; just as it was getting dark. As I had to go in and check-in for registration, it was setting up camp in the dark for me (which I hate).

Of course, I setup my tent right in a patch of groundhogs or gophers or something. That night, around midnight when all was quiet, I could hear their digging "crunch, crunch" mere feet from my tent. It took me a few minutes to figure out what it was I was listening to. I remember hoping they didn't make a wrong turn, and poke up under my tent. I never realized how noisy those little suckers can be! Here is my tent out in the field the following morning, with my Vstrom covered from the overnight fog.

The first night I missed dinner, which I had pre-paid for on this trip. No worries, as I'd eaten in Garberville earlier. There were a couple round-the-world trip presentations after dinner, and I introduced myself to as many folk as I could before needing to go set up my tent in the thickening fog and blackness. Thank goodness for head-mounted LED lights. Neither me nor the gophers slept well that first night, but I didn't care; I had made the trip safely and was now there ready to have fun and learn what it takes to ride motorcycles around this earth.