It was foggy and drizzling, and I constantly had to wipe my helmet shield so I could see in front of me. It didn�t do much good as I could only see about 10 feet in front of me thanks to the fog. The red halo of the minivan�s taillights acted as my only guide to where I was going. I was on Highway 154 heading towards Santa Barbara. My riding buddy Dean and his wife Patty on a ZX9R were behind me. They were wearing leather jackets and blue jeans. I�m wearing full leathers with a nice warm liner. I couldn�t imagine how soaked they were getting! Was I having fun? You bet! I was on my first sport-tour of the Central Coast of California riding my 2000 Suzuki Hayabusa. Of course I was having fun! It could have been snowing and my smile would have been just as wide.
This all started one cold January when Dean, another riding buddy(now ex-riding buddy) Dave, and myself were standing around a gas station after a daylong ride to Palomar. I brought up the idea of sport-touring up the Central Coast and got the two guys all excited. They both wanted to do it. That was January. A lot of things happened in just a few months. Dave crashed his 996 and decided to quit riding for good. Dean however, managed to actually make the trip four months later along with his lovely wife Patty. So there we were riding along Highway 154 on our 3rd day, getting soaked by the fog and drizzle on a very cold Sunday afternoon in late May.
I�m getting ahead of myself here. Let�s rewind to Day 1 so I can explain the rest of my trip up the Central Coast.
Day 1: Friday, May 25th
Today was the 1st day of Memorial Day weekend, one of the biggest 3-day weekends for working people such as myself. I was riding down the 405 freeway trying to get out of Los Angeles County. I�m riding with another friend Rye and his wife Kelley on their Ducati ST4. Where were Dean & Patty? They were both stuck in Orange County still at work! We were suppose to ride out of town together with Dean & Patty. However, Dean�s job had an unexpected turn and he couldn�t take the whole day off Friday. So instead, Dean and Patty had to change plans and decided to ride from O.C. to San Simeon, which was our final destination, Friday afternoon instead of Friday morning. What were Rye & Kelley doing there with me? Well, 3 weeks before I was to go on the trip, Rye decided to take a ride up to the Central Coast to meet friends in Naciemento Lake in San Luis Obispo County for the Memorial Day holidays. Why not ride with me since we were leaving at the same time? Why not indeed!
So there we were riding out of L.A. on the 405 around 9AM. Rye was leading and I just followed him. He suggested an alternate route instead of simply taking the 405 to the 101. Morning rush hour had just ended, although there was still residual congestion on the 405 along LAX. Luckily, we didn�t stay on that freeway for long. Rye got on the Interstate 10 towards Malibu and got us down onto Pacific Coast Highway in the city of Santa Monica. This part of PCH wasn�t really scenic except for the beach to my left. Both sides of the road were lined with residences and commercial sites. I was puzzled as to why people would want to build their small yet expensive homes right on the shoreline. Then every year battle the destructive waves that inevitably take away what was left of their backyards. Is it really worth it? I don�t think so. But these well to do folks with their fancy cars parked precariously outside their homes believe it is. Well, nobody ever said having money also meant being wise!
Rye turned right on Malibu Canyon Road somewhere by Pepperdine University. There were lots of cars here so there was no fun to be had. I followed Rye to Mulholland Drive, which was a bit twistier and less traveled so it was kind of fun. We then jumped on Kanan Road, which took us to the outskirts of Agoura Hills where we stopped to rest before heading back on the 101 Freeway. This was Rye and Kelly�s weekend playground. They always went to the Rock Store out there on weekends so they were familiar with the roads.
At the Chevron station, we were checking out our tires and Rye was quite surprised to see the condition of my Dunlop D207�s. My rear was way beyond its 90% life and needed replacement. Unfortunately, the replacement tires didn�t arrive on time for the trip. Bugger me! I wasn�t about to cancel my trip for that. Well did I know it would later become a very big thorn on this whole trip.
Back on the 101, Rye relinquished the lead to me for I had driven out here before and knew the directions and stops better than him. On the 101, I chose a personal limit of 80 mph due to the condition of my rear tire. Not that it made any difference but it did give me some peace of mind, if that were possible with that tire. We cruised along for what seemed like an eternity, through Ventura County and into Santa Barbara County. It was a relief to get to Ventura Beach where the 101 started following the coastline. The temperatures there dropped at least 10 degrees, which made the riding a bit more comfortable. Inland temperatures where in the 80�s.
We ran into some freeway congestion in Santa Barbara and we actually had to split lanes for a while. That day was a Friday before a big holiday weekend so some congestion along the major roads was to be expected. By this time, I was ready to pull over and stretch. I�m sure Rye and Kelly did too. I�m amazed that they were able to split with those big saddlebags mounted on their ST4. We reached State Street none too soon and we happily got off the 101. Here, we gassed up and rested for a while and discussed where to have lunch. It was now 12:30 PM and we had been riding since 9AM. Rye and Kelly suggested we eat at some rustic lunch location hidden somewhere along the 154�a scenic road that cut across the Santa Barbara mountains and bypasses the coastline.
We got on the 154 northbound leaving Santa Barbara. A few miles down the road, Rye got off the main road and onto Kinevan Road which had a sign saying that road lead to Stage Coach Road. Both these roads where twisty and slow with no diving line. They went left, right, up and down through a canopy of trees that paralleled the Santa Inez River. Then, out of nowhere as we emerged from a downhill left hand turn, wooden structures appeared. It was the old Cold Spring Relay station. Over 100 years ago, stage coaches stopped here to change teams of drivers, offer food and lodging to tired passengers on their way to San Francisco. The Cold Spring Tavern still looked the way in did back then, with benches cut right out of Pine tree trunks, and the structures looking much like an old, rustic log cabin. Well, it was old and rustic for sure. A mountain stream still ran right by this relay station as it sat under a thick canopy of trees and shrubs. We parked by a dirt road which was the only parking available away from the road. It was on a slope. I parked my Hayabusa facing downhill and made the mistake of leaving the transmission in Neutral. As I was getting off the bike, it started rolling forward and the kickstand started folding up. The bike started to fall over but I managed to catch it. I used all my strength to keep the bike from falling. I�ll be damned if I let my bike fall on this crummy old dirt turnoff. I managed to pick the bike up from almost a horizontal position. I amazed myself. Rye was about 20 feet away and didn�t see the whole thing until I already had my Busa back up. So I can say I picked the bike up all by myself. Whew! I didn�t realize my strength until then! |
