Prelude

You would think it would be easy to load two medium size bikes in a long bed full size pickup. Not for me it isn't. I rolled them up and down the ramp quite a few times before I was satisfied they'd survive me and Randall hauling them back and forth to San Diego. Finally, using every tie-down I owned, they looked pretty solid.

I've never raced, but one thing I learned from Denzler is to always have a spare, preferably two. Destroying a Nissan last year with my 93 KLR gave me a nice collection of spares for Debb's new-to-her 89 KLR. After getting some old wiring and the kick stand kill-switch removed, we gave it a good bath and then started replacing some of the missing parts. First up was the turn signals. I thought I was going to have to refresh my soldering skills, but all the original wiring and connectors were still in place, so it was Plug n Play. The biggest issue for her bike was that it was running really rich. No choke was required on the coldest of mornings and lots of black smoke out the SuperTrapp. After studying the shop manual for a couple of evenings I took the easy way out and just installed the carb from my wrecked 93. It turned out perfect. It needed some choke to get started, idled smoothly, shows good throttle response and no sign of richness from the exhaust. Cool. KLRs really are a snap to work on.

"...leaning masses, straining to be free..."

So Randall's ride was ready and all I needed for my Tiger was to wire in the GPS power cable. Following the sage advice of Tim Keane it was an easy 20 minute job. We are set to go.

Day One

Today was a perfect day to drive across the state. With hardly a cloud in the sky and apart from the usual I-5 traffic mess in Seattle, it was smooth sailing start to finish. Coming down into Colfax there was a big accident that had the road closed and no sign that it was going to open anytime soon. But wait, I have a GPS. Zoom in a couple of levels, make a u-turn and take the alternate route to Pullman. I pulled into Randall's place only 5 minutes later than I might have. GPS is cool.

Tomorrow we head into the wilds of Idaho 95 and points south.

Day Two Plus

As I write this it's tomorrow plus two. Tomorrow turned out to be tomorrow and tomorrow plus one. The next time I ask Randall if he wants to join me for a vacation he will probably politely decline, quickly remembering his appointments for a haircut, oil change or his chiropractor. We had decided the theme for this vacation would be Cheap, Fast and Light. I'm sure Randall didn't really believe me when I explained that Cheap meant driving straight through from Pullman to San Diego, thereby saving the cost of a motel room and getting to San Diego sooner with more time to vacation. It began to sink in when he asked about maybe splitting a cheap room in Ely and I answered by proclaiming we were more than halfway there. Be a shame to quit now. Besides, I explained, it's only desert between here and Victorville. What's to see anyway? Quite likely, as it turned out, a lot.

looking down on the Clearwater River

The route from Pullman to Boise was interesting, mostly because it was new to both of us. It's a nice road but nothing to write home about. My lasting memory of US95 from Lewiston to Boise is the road sign "Reduced Speed Ahead". They are quite proud of this sign and they plant a lot of them along this road. I'm sure it's shorter than 395 to Pendleton and I-84 to Boise, but I don't think it was faster. One redeeming feature however, was a train route between Lewiston and Grangeville. There were many, many old wooden trestles on that route and some were way up in the air. Occasionally the road would go underneath one and they were neat to see close up. I bet that route is an interesting and scenic train ride.

But without question, the winner in the scenic category is northern Nevada. We turned south at Twin Falls and followed US 93 all the way to Las Vegas. Between Jackpot on the Idaho border and the junction of 93 and Alt 93, the view is spectacular. This is high desert country. High because most of this area is at 6000 feet in elevation. Every peak in every direction was covered in snow. Rising up suddenly from the desert floor just southwest of Wells, the Ruby Mountains will take your breath away. Their snowcapped tops sparkle in the sun, and the air is so clear you feel like you could roll down the window and grab a handful of snow. Towering over 11,300 feet high, Hole in the Mountain Peak stands guard over the intersection of I 80 and US 93. What's intriguing for a dual-sport rider is Nevada route 229, which crosses the Ruby Mountains at Secret Pass. Even more intriguing is the collection of interesting secondary roads spreading out from either end of this pass. Stay tuned for more reports from this area.

northern Nevada along Highway 93

After sunset it does all look the same - black. The desert is amazingly dark at night. The stars are spectacular, but you watch them while you drive at your peril. One way to entertain yourself in these areas is with a GPS. Set it to display the altitude and you get to see what the world is up to beyond the glow of your headlights. Highly recommended.

So we blasted along from one junction in the middle of nowhere to the next junction in the middle of nowhere, switching drivers as often as it took to keep us awake and on the correct side of the road. Your first glimpse of Las Vegas lights is a harsh contrast to the comforting darkness of the remote high desert.

So we drove all day and we drove all night and 27 hours after leaving Pullman we are at Sunfire. We stayed awake for an hour or so, but finally we took a nap. It almost hurts to close your eyes when you've had them open for so long.

Day Three

Today Randall and I spent a leisurely day riding around the county. After coffee and muffins we got off to an early start and were on the road promptly by 10:30. We ran a couple of errands in Escondido and then made our way to Mount Palomar via the Secret Roads as detailed by SSMark. Randall and I enjoyed a hearty vegetarian lunch at Mothers on the mountain and then rode southeast past Lake Henshaw to Santa Ysabel and on to Ramona. Dudley's is closed on Mondays so we couldn't get any of the bread this renowned Santa Ysabel bakery is famous for. I suspect we'll make our way back there before we have to leave for home.

Ramona mailboxes

While I sipped my coffee and stared at the San Diego County map, I recognized Wildcat Canyon Road from when I lived in El Cajon what seems like a couple of lifetimes ago. I led Randall up and over the hills through the Barona Indian Reservation, past the ever-present newly constructed casino to Lakeside. I was surprised how little else had changed along the way. I used to ride this route with a bunch of other squids nearly every Sunday. Every major corner was named after a well known motorcycle racer of that time. I didn't remember any of the names but the corners were sure familiar. This is a great little section of highway, just don't forget about the Open Range signs along the way.

Not sure what's on the menu for tomorrow so stay tuned and we'll find out together.

Day Four

Up and on the road at the crack of 10:00. This vacation is beginning to take its toll. Randall decided he needed a break from the joys of the KLR so he borrowed SSMark's 97 VFR. That meant dual-sport riding was out so we decided on Tecate, the desert and the mountains. Tough call, eh?

We scooted south through the estates of Rancho Bernardo, the hills of Poway and down 67 to El Cajon for a quick look at the old house I use to live in. If it weren't sitting on the same lot, I wouldn't have recognized it. There has been lots of remodeling, not all of it done well. Oh well, I'm not making the payments anymore.

We found a Starbucks at Grossmont Center and I studied the lines on the map while Randall studied the lines on the tight Levis the cute ladies were wearing as they headed for the espresso counter. TMSAISTI.

Highway 94 is a treat to ride. Once you get past most of the developments you can make good time on the nicely paved highway. Lots of twists and turns, uphill and down, a few decreasing radius turns to keep you on your toes, and all the while you get carried along east and south until you eventually find yourself at the border town of Tecate.

What is so interesting about edges? The edge of land where it meets the water, the edge of desert where it meets the mountains, the edge of traction where lap times are optimum, Tecate is one of these edge places. A hot and dusty border town with an endless stream of hot and dusty drivers waiting patiently to get their cargos across the edge.

rocky hills east of Tecate

The Border Patrol is the dominant force in the area. They are everywhere, having taken the lessons of The Gulf War seriously. I may need to rethink my investment strategy vis-à-vis General Motors. I think the Border Patrol must be getting a major portion of the factory output of Tahoes and Suburbans. For the next three hours we kept seeing them everywhere, lurking in the shade of trees, prowling along dirt roads out in the desert, and manning checkpoints in overwhelming force along the highway.

You can't go to this edge and not think something is wrong. Nearly all of the Border Patrol agents look Hispanic. I wondered if there were Pasty White Guys with farmer tans lurking along the highways south of Tecate ready to spring upon unsuspecting travelers from the Midwest with a little too much cornbread and Bud Light hidden away in the trunk.

Any large collection of government employees with weapons always gives me cause for concern and this is no exception. It's the drug war only with people as the target instead of cocaine. While we were in California, the newspapers were reporting the recent census results. In large headlines they proclaimed that non-Hispanic whites are no longer a majority in California. The economic and family ties between the Southwest and Mexico are far too intertwined to ever be controlled in any way. It certainly won't be managed by any government agency.

Sure, good fences make good neighbors, but so does helping your neighbor with his remodeling project or giving his kids a lift to school, or having a beer after work. For what it costs to keep a couple of Border Patrol agents sweating out in the sun, we could probably build and equip a school or a clinic in Tecate and maybe the dominant image of America would change from a well armed guard in a green truck to something a little less intimidating. For what if costs to keep an American Army in what's left of Yugoslavia we could probably build schools and clinics in most of Mexico.

Anza Borrego Desert State Park

So we headed east along 94 to where it joins Interstate 8 and rolled down the big hill to El Centro. That section of highway winds between incredibly rocky hillsides that must have been overwhelming to early settlers. I can't imagine getting a horse up that hill, much less a wagon and supplies. While we were riding along from Campo to Jacumba, the GPS display was interesting. We were quite close to the border there and the GPS showed a crosshatch pattern for the Mexican side of the border. Reminded me of weather maps that stop abruptly at international borders.

The scenery change riding to El Centro is about as dramatic as it can get. From the dry rocky hills of San Diego County to the perfectly flat irrigated fields of the Imperial Valley is dramatic. And the temperature change was pretty dramatic too. It was well into the 90's when we finally settled on a place for lunch. It felt so good to be so nice and warm.

After lunch we doubled back to Ocotillo and rode S2 north through the Anza Borrego desert. This is a stunning desert highway and highly recommended. The desert is anything but flat boring vacant landscape. Between stops for photos and irrigation we gave the bikes their head along some of the nice long traffic-free straight stretches. Fun.

how Sunfire got its name

Highway 78 leads to Sunfire and we followed it from the desert over the mountains through Julian, Santa Ysabel, Ramona (all roads lead to Ramona) and finally Escondido as the sun sank into the evening fog bank. A nice finish to a most excellent day of riding.

Day Five

SSMark showed us a couple of dirt road sections so Wednesday was dual-sport day. Having discovered the location of the only Starbucks in Escondido, we were eager to be up and out of the house at the crack of 10:00.

Randall does dirt

Just east of Ramona there is a dirt road that runs north over a couple of sets of hills through the Mesa Grande Indian Reservation to Mesa Grande. This is an easy route, I could have ridden it on my Goldwing. Once we were up in the hills the temperature warmed up and we stopped often for photos and to enjoy the scenery.

At Mesa Grande we turned right and retraced our route to 79, then zigzagged north and east to S2 and S22 down the hill to Borrego Springs. What a hill! The line on the map looks really twisty and the road doesn't disappoint you. There is almost a 4000 foot elevation change in just this short twisty section. When we got stuck behind some slow moving traffic, I shifted into neutral and coasted nearly all the way to town. Fun.

After lunch we headed north back into the desert for some more serious dual sport riding. It didn't take us long to know our potential for Paris Dakar is pretty slim. I think I know why there aren't any overweight, fifty-something desk jockeys in that event. This road is in the Anza Borrego State Park so it's well marked and there are lots of signs to keep you from wandering off the road and into the desert. There was actually quite a lot of traffic along this stretch. Nice to see somebody drives their Ford Explorers off the pavement.

It's early in the year so after about a third of our planned route to Terwilliger, we came to a deep stream crossing that ended our progress. Had I been on the XR400, I would have blasted through it, but I wasn't so anxious on my shiny new-to-me Tiger. At least not yet. I wandered around looking to maybe find an unauthorized route across the stream but only succeeded in getting my shoes and pants wet crossing the water.

off the pavement in the Anza Borrego desert

On our way back the sand finally took its toll and both Randall and I dropped our bikes in the deep stuff. I didn't see Randall go down, but I was almost stopped so hardly a mark on the Tiger. It's a dirt bike now! In spite of the slow speed fall, the bike flipped me off pretty vigorously and I managed a really sore spot on my ribs. Still sore almost a week later.

We stopped at Christmas Circle in town and I took off my wet shoes and socks and brushed as much of the desert off as I could while we rested up for the run home. We were both looking forward to going back up the hill on S22. Past Ranchita we turned left at S2 and rode south on the north end of that road to 78. This is a really fun section. One long high-speed sweeper after another on smooth pavement with excellent visibility. You could do a lot worse than riding S2 from north to south, having lunch in El Centro and retracing your steps south to north. S2 is a great road and getting to either end is fun too.

Bed and Breakfast in Julian

Oh yes, back to Sunfire on 78 through Julian, Santa Ysabel, Ramona and San Pasqual. All roads lead to Ramona.

Day Six

Thursday we left the bikes parked in the garage and drove in to San Diego for a day of playing tourist. After our now traditional stop at Starbucks we were on the road by 11AM. This schedule is murder!

We checked out the neighborhood in Point Loma where Randall lived while he was there in the Navy and then wound our way up to Balboa Park in the center of the city. This park is a favorite of mine. I love the look of the buildings, the big trees and always look forward to see what's playing at the Rueben H Fleet Space Theater. It's an IMAX theater, the first one I ever saw, and I hoped there would be something interesting playing. We say a short film about caves, but it wasn't up to their usual standards.

After a bite to eat, Randall spotted the Museum of Photographic Arts. We spent a very enjoyable hour or so looking at the various exhibits. Very nice.

Balboa Park

We then headed over the Coronado bridge (no toll, we're a carpool) and after a short break at a Starbucks I remembered when Debb and I were here, drove by the Del Coronado hotel and then continued south on the Silver Strand to Imperial Beach, north past the evening commute crawl to a nice dinner at the best soup and salad place on the planet, Souplantation in Mission Gorge.

And best of all, we didn't have to go through Ramona to get back home.

Day Seven

Our last day of riding before we head north and we made the most of it. Randall is eager to get rolling, so we're on our way from Starbucks by 10:00. I can't take much more of this!

Anywhere but Ramona, Randall tells me, so I plot a course to the north and east. It was foggy the first time we rode up Mount Palomar, but it's clear and warm today so I retrace our first day's route back to Mothers on the mountain. Highway S6 up the mountain is delicious set of twisties that attracts riders from all over. In full leathers with knee pucks scraping, several zip by as we're stopped for photos. Some of these guys are fast!

looking west from Mount Palomar

At the top are a bunch of bicyclists and one of them warns us of cattle on the roadway on our route back down. We rode well within our limits and no cattle threatened.

We followed S7 south to 76, turned left onto 79, then north onto R3. (S for San Diego, R for Riverside I guessed.) All of these are great roads, with R3 probably the least traveled and with the occasional pile of sand in a corner or two. This lands us in beautiful downtown Hemet where we have lunch, not realizing that Idyllwild is less than an hour away. Lunch was excellent, but the swing-era music from the radio got kind of old.

We rode east out of Hemet on 74 up the hill toward Mountain Center and highway 243. This is a great ride! The road is superb and there is a tremendous elevation change up the hill. All of these terrific routes are all striped double yellow, but to our amazement many slower cars and trucks pulled over for us at their first opportunity. We could have spent hours flogging along at 20mph but we really only got held up a couple of times all week. Very nice.

North along the hill on 243 takes us down to Banning. All along this section there are broad views of the valley below. Then a quick blast east on Interstate 10 to the palm trees and expensive shops of Palm Springs. The Palm Springs area is huge these days! After a stop for gas and fluids, we continued south on Highway 111. Most of this is stop and go, 40 mph between shopping malls, car dealers and new housing developments. After two or three lights Randall and I started lane splitting to make some time through all this traffic. If you don't care about seeing Palm Springs you can get to the intersection of 111 and 74 by just staying on I-10 to Indio, then take 111 west to 74. Unless you really like stop and go wall to wall traffic, of course.

palm trees in Palm Springs

Highway 74 south out of Palm Desert is another beauty, with mile after mile of turns climbing sharply out of the desert back into the San Bernardino Mountains. Only the sun in my eyes made this a less than perfect ride. We turned south at 371, dropping back down out of the mountains toward Aguanga and then rode the rest of 79 into sprawling Temecula. By now the sun is set and the evening fog has rolled in so our 80 mph blast down the freeway to Escondido is a chilly one.

But we didn't have to go through Ramona so it really can't get much better than today.

Day Eight

Loading the truck is pretty easy this time since I know where everything goes. Our bags loaded and our host hugged, we ease down the hill from Sunfire toward our last double-tall at Starbucks. After a quick visual by the Border Patrol, we make a quick stop for liquids and we're cruising north on the 15.

Our plan was to circle around the LA basin, recrossing Cajon Pass into the high desert of Mojave, then north and west over Tehachape Pass to Bakersfield. Randall planned to visit an elderly relative in Visalia. But Randall had caught a hell of a cold and the relatives were not feeling up to visitors, especially contagious ones, so we continued north and plotted our return via the real "Inland Passage" - US 395.

Lots of desert and then more desert and over the next rise is more desert until finally the vegetation is a little taller and more green and you know you're starting to climb into the foothills of the Sierras. By the time we reached Bishop, the mountain tops on both sides of us are snowcapped once again and the road begins to climb in earnest toward Lee Vining and Mono Lake. We stopped for awhile and took in the scenery as the evening light reflected on snowcapped hills all around us. Nothing quite beats nature's light show, especially at 6000 feet. The chill in the air was refreshing.

Day Nine

The chill is still in the air the next morning at 6:30 as we packed up to leave. We had to scrape the ice off the windshield before we could get out of the motel parking lot at Bridgeport.

Up over one more pass and then down to Carson and Reno, the not-so-little-anymore "Biggest Little City in the World". Only a gas receipt is evidence that we were even in Nevada this day.

We got gas just south of Carson City, again in Burns, and survived the snow storm getting into Pendleton. All the interesting stuff seems to happen in the evening on this leg of our trip. Highway 11 to Walla Walla, Highway 12 north and east to Dodge, 127 north to Dusty, 26 east to Colfax and 195 south to Pullman. Amazing as it seems, it all looks exactly like southern Nevada - black.

A bit of trivia for you highway buffs - Randall and I decided that Highway 12 may have the highest mile marker signs of any in the state. When we turned north on 127, the markers on US 12 were in the 390 range, with over 40 miles still to go before Clarkston. We couldn't think of any other road that would be anywhere near that long.

Day Ten

Snow! Welcome back to the frozen north! The weather guessers are right for a change and we awake to a healthy dusting of snow in Pullman. It snowed pretty hard until Washtucna where it cleared, and I drove into a headwind all the way to the top of Snoqualmie Pass. I had to hold on to the truck in Othello while I pumped gas or I would have been blown across the street. Of course, the sun is shining as I roll across the floating bridge in Seattle. A pretty nice place to come home to with 3507 new miles on the truck.

Epilog

We drove lots of hard miles, but we rode lots of fun miles. Next time, I may just look for a set of cheap tickets and ride whatever's available in the Sunfire garage. There always seems to be a pretty nice selection waiting there, and I might even be tempted to put a few miles on the old Boxer that hangs out there. I enjoy the driving and the time on the road, but you can fly there and back in about as long as it takes to get to Pullman, so a cheap airplane ticket is pretty attractive.

Debb's KLR seemed to perform just fine so I'm happy that it has turned out well. I can't say enough about the Tiger. I love that machine. It fits me well and I felt equally at home scooting along dirt roads or carving the canyons. I'm looking forward to many miles on this bike.

I really enjoyed traveling with a GPS. I enjoyed both riding the mountains and knowing just how high they were at the same time. That was great fun for me.

As always, there are more roads than we had time to ride so there's an excuse to return. I know I'm looking forward to that.