The ride through the valley floor ended and we were soon climbing up to altitude. There were a couple of 180 degree turns that I wasn�t anticipating so I had left the Busa in 2nd when I should have been in 1st. Oh well. The bike almost stalled but I managed to keep it under power. At the top of SRCR, we could see the Pacific Ocean below. Many Moto-magazines have taken pictures of test bikes with that view in the background. Unfortunately, I missed that opportunity. Damn!
The descend back down from the top of the hills wasn�t as steep as the ascend. It was in fact, quite gradual. And here, we were able to pick up speed since many of the turns had good visibility on exit, as well as being less bumpy. The road even managed to give have a nice camber to maximize traction and ground clearance. Nice. I was able to whack the throttle open on a few of those! Sooner than we wanted, SRCR ended somewhere in the middle of Highway 46. We took the 46 back onto the 101 Freeway and headed south. We were on our way home. -sniff-sniff-
We didn�t stay on the 101 for long. We exited at a town called Santa Maria where we gassed up and ate snacks. The gas station clerk, probably rarely ever seeing a guy in a white, black, and red 1-piece leathers wanted to know if Marty was a �Superhero�. Ha-ha! There were a lot of young babes gassing up their cars here and we were parked by the side of the gas station where we could afford a great view of the action! Little did we know that the babes where also watching us. A carload of girls went by and gave us a holler. Something about looking sexy in our leathers. As we rode out in the middle of downtown Santa Maria, another car with a girl by the window yelled out at us as I passed by. It scared the bejesus out of me! For a while I was convinced that sportbikes are just chic magnets!
We took a road out of Santa Maria called Highway 35, which turned out to be a freeway that was totally empty. We passed by Vandenberg Air Force Base, which was where the Air Force launches its satellites into Earth Orbit.
The 35 passed through the tiny community of San Antonio, CA. It had a few bar and grilles and a town grocery store. It was so small, and we were going by so fast I totally missed it until we�d already gone by! The 35 ended on the 101 Freeway again and we got on it and cruised the few miles to Highway 154. Highway 154 was not particularly twisty, but it was smooth, had beautiful scenery, and most of all it cut the time it took for us to get to Santa Barbara. Unfortunately, cagers love the 154 too so it was full of slow moving cars and pickups and Harley Davidson bikes. Having ridden mostly empty roads for the past couple of days, it was extremely frustrating to be puttering along behind a train of slow moving cages. And for the remainder of our ride along the 154, it was slow and painful. Most of the drivers just refused to pull over and let us pass. And there were few passing opportunities.
It was a bit of a relief to get off the 154 in Santa Barbara proper. It was 2PM by now and we were real hungry. We stopped at the first restaurant we could find. A Japanese restaurant that served Sushi and combination plates. Hmmmm�.good. Me and Marty wolfed down our combo plates and Matt ate his Sushi. Afterwards, with our bellies full, Matt suggested we stop by the beach. It was now close to 3PM so I was a bit reluctant as we still had a good 200+ miles to go. I was dreading the ride back into L.A. From past experience, I knew that entering L.A. is like entering the Atmosphere. After a cool cruise up in orbit, entering the Atmosphere involved a very hot, bumpy, and miserable ride. That about describes the ride back through L.A. the best. So, I caved in to Matt�s insistence and followed him down State Street in Santa Barbara towards the beach. As we neared the beach, State Street filled up with outdoor cafes, shops, rows of controlled intersections, and the hottest babes we�d ever seen so far on this trip. However, it wasn�t enough to make the ride bearable. As pretty as the scenery was, the traffic on State Street was bumper to bumper and miserable. The temperatures where in the 90�s, and our engine temperatures where souring. I�d seen my temp gauge go up before but this was the highest I�ve seen it. The cooling fan was constantly on. And we were all sweltering inside our leather jackets! We felt wretched.
We finally reached Shoreline drive and not a moment too soon. I thought my Busa�s motor would explode at any minute from the nuclear meltdown we were both experiencing. The temperatures here were at least 10 degrees cooler, and most of all, there was a breeze. We parked our bikes by a nice looking park lined with Palm trees, right on the beach. It was very pretty. And for a while, I could forget that we where still far from home. My shirt & helmet were soaked in sweat. Yuck! We sat on the cool grass under a Palm tree and watched the sailboats out in the water, and the babes walking by in shorts and tank tops. There were other people walking by too but we ignored those!
By 4PM, I got up and told the guys I was ready to go home. I was serious. At that point, I just didn�t want to wait anymore and delay the inevitable. Matt and Marty reluctantly got up to go too. We rode down to the end of Shoreline drive and hopped back on the 101 Freeway. From there on, I never looked back. I just twisted the throttle of my Hayabusa on a beeline for home. Only, home wasn�t going to be that easy. Entering Ventura County, we ran into some congestion. I started splitting lanes and that�s the last I saw of Matt & Marty�s headlights. Splitting lanes in traffic required my utmost concentration, and the last thing I wanted to do was watch behind me for motorcycle headlights. So, I just kept right along splitting lanes. The congestion on the 101 in Ventura County came and went and for a while, it was nice and fast cruising again. But as soon as I entered Los Angeles County, the congestion came right back. This time however, it was worse and didn�t go away. Crawling along in 1st or 2nd gear was murder on my gas mileage. And since I started out with less than a full tank back in Santa Barbara, I figured I needed to gas up now, while I was still in the outskirts of L.A. Not a good idea to gas up somewhere in the middle of L.A. since I was not familiar with the area. So I got off the 101 somewhere in Thousand Oaks I believe and pulled up to the nearest gas station I found. That happened to be a small Shell gas station. I pulled up to the pump and tried to use my Debit/MasterCard. The pump would not accept it, so I had to go inside the minimart and have my card swiped manually. The guy behind the counter was a Middle Eastern looking, and inside his minimart were a few Middle Eastern posters with Arabic writing on it. However, there was a big American Flag hanging right in the middle. |
