James Burleigh
Well-known member
Silent and I met for breakfast at Denny's in Pleasanton on Saturday morning at 8 AM, then headed east out of the Bay Area over the Altamont Pass into California's Central Valley, with the sun in our eyes as it rose slowly higher over the distant Sierra Nevada mountains.
Our destination was Calaveras Big Trees state park, home to the largest trees in the world. These are not the tallest trees; those are the Coastal Redwoods that are tall and narrow. Calaveras holds the Giant Sequoias, which are plenty tall but also wide enough to drive a car through. We would spend one night at a camp ground in the park. UberKul, who lives nearby, was promising to meet us there and spend the night as well.
On our way to Calaveras we would first pass through small towns built during the California gold rush of 1849. In one of these towns, Murphys, we hoped to meet MadMike2 and OrangevaleFJR for lunch.
We took SR 132 through the Valley, where we passed through Modesto. In the photo below, Silent, wearing a gray and black Aerostitch and sporting a CamelBack (the temperature was already about 85 F by about 10AM), shuts off his Black Cherry '07 as we wait for a train to pass. That looked like a good idea to me, so I got off my bike too. Just as I did so, the last train car passed in front of us, and I had to scramble to get back on my heavily-laden bike, start it up, and get moving.
The view eastward toward the Sierra (below). I was using my newly discovered OrangvaleFJR hangman's noose method of snapshot-taking, wherein you loop the camera around your neck, where it dangles till you set your throttle lock, grope for the camera and controls, somehow manage to turn the camera on, and snap away while veering off the road or into on-coming traffic. I'd learned Orange's technique after admiring his pics from the ride to WFO and asking how he did it. But having a lively mind for fear, I worried that I would crash, the camera would get caught on something, and my head would pop off like a New Year's champagne bottle cork. So later in the day I elected to keep the camera in my tank bag and pull over when I wanted to take a picture.
All systems go: Heading northeast at 60 mph; temperature 95.5 F (speedometer white-out dots are at 60, 80, 100, 120):
Rising out of the Central Valley into the foothills of the Sierra Nevada and the Gold Country:
State Route 132 intersected Hwy 49 (named for the 49er gold prospectors), which runs north-south through the foothills, intersecting many old west style towns, like Coulterville and its Hotel Jeffrey, which was the site of a Harley rally (photo below).
Note in the photo above the road sign indicating a right-hand turn to continue on 132 to Yosemite. I had planned that we would go up that way in order to ride a great road I'd discovered on my way home from Yosemite the last trip there. But it was already 11 AM, and we wanted to get to Murphys to meet Mad and Orange between noon and one.
So we elected to take Hwy 49 instead, the road passing in front of the hotel, because it would be quicker. And although disappointed, I knew that was the right decision because I understood that riding motorcycles isn't just about the ride, it's about the friendships and the community and the shared experience, which of course is what this forum is all about. So on that day, at that moment, it was more important to meet up with Mad and Orange than to ride those extra roads, which would wait patiently for us to return another day.
We pulled over to the Harley rally to take a break, and tried to blend in with the Harleys and riders. But of course it was hopeless. Our bikes had color, and so did the gear we wore.
They were having some kind of competition. I tried to get a shot of the trophies, but this dumb girl got in the way!
Silent swapped out his 'stitch for a cooler mesh outfit, now that the temperatures had crossed the 100 F mark:
Our destination was Calaveras Big Trees state park, home to the largest trees in the world. These are not the tallest trees; those are the Coastal Redwoods that are tall and narrow. Calaveras holds the Giant Sequoias, which are plenty tall but also wide enough to drive a car through. We would spend one night at a camp ground in the park. UberKul, who lives nearby, was promising to meet us there and spend the night as well.
On our way to Calaveras we would first pass through small towns built during the California gold rush of 1849. In one of these towns, Murphys, we hoped to meet MadMike2 and OrangevaleFJR for lunch.
We took SR 132 through the Valley, where we passed through Modesto. In the photo below, Silent, wearing a gray and black Aerostitch and sporting a CamelBack (the temperature was already about 85 F by about 10AM), shuts off his Black Cherry '07 as we wait for a train to pass. That looked like a good idea to me, so I got off my bike too. Just as I did so, the last train car passed in front of us, and I had to scramble to get back on my heavily-laden bike, start it up, and get moving.
The view eastward toward the Sierra (below). I was using my newly discovered OrangvaleFJR hangman's noose method of snapshot-taking, wherein you loop the camera around your neck, where it dangles till you set your throttle lock, grope for the camera and controls, somehow manage to turn the camera on, and snap away while veering off the road or into on-coming traffic. I'd learned Orange's technique after admiring his pics from the ride to WFO and asking how he did it. But having a lively mind for fear, I worried that I would crash, the camera would get caught on something, and my head would pop off like a New Year's champagne bottle cork. So later in the day I elected to keep the camera in my tank bag and pull over when I wanted to take a picture.
All systems go: Heading northeast at 60 mph; temperature 95.5 F (speedometer white-out dots are at 60, 80, 100, 120):
Rising out of the Central Valley into the foothills of the Sierra Nevada and the Gold Country:
State Route 132 intersected Hwy 49 (named for the 49er gold prospectors), which runs north-south through the foothills, intersecting many old west style towns, like Coulterville and its Hotel Jeffrey, which was the site of a Harley rally (photo below).
Note in the photo above the road sign indicating a right-hand turn to continue on 132 to Yosemite. I had planned that we would go up that way in order to ride a great road I'd discovered on my way home from Yosemite the last trip there. But it was already 11 AM, and we wanted to get to Murphys to meet Mad and Orange between noon and one.
So we elected to take Hwy 49 instead, the road passing in front of the hotel, because it would be quicker. And although disappointed, I knew that was the right decision because I understood that riding motorcycles isn't just about the ride, it's about the friendships and the community and the shared experience, which of course is what this forum is all about. So on that day, at that moment, it was more important to meet up with Mad and Orange than to ride those extra roads, which would wait patiently for us to return another day.
We pulled over to the Harley rally to take a break, and tried to blend in with the Harleys and riders. But of course it was hopeless. Our bikes had color, and so did the gear we wore.
They were having some kind of competition. I tried to get a shot of the trophies, but this dumb girl got in the way!
Silent swapped out his 'stitch for a cooler mesh outfit, now that the temperatures had crossed the 100 F mark:
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