Laguna 2023
Plan: travel Thursday, July 6 to Doran Beach campground in Bodega Bay. Then Friday travel fun routes to Monterey, including Skyline and Alice's Restaurant. Saturday and Sunday at the track, then head north toward home on Monday with a camping option fit in.
A driver's car needs a driver. We had one of those this weekend.
Wow. What an EPIC weekend and trip. Forrest and I were zipping up the 29 out of Calistoga on our way home. It was midday and we knew there would be traffic, but there are some passing zones so who knows, maybe we'd get lucky. We came upon a long line of trucks, vans, and cars. But the passing lane opened up and things were looking promising. Forrest had a driver in the newer Camaro in front of him, and they took off. I got trapped behind a Porsche Panamera....so I wasn't worried. They'd go, right? Nope. Nice and slow through the corners. I started laughing, because all weekend Dave was in his Porsche absolutely shredding it. It was so fun to see him right with us on the bikes. But this driver I was behind was no driver. Just a lady out for a quiet drive in her supercar. Haha.
I had a bit of a Disneyland sleep on Wednesday night. Then I woke up to the cats at 5:00 am. So I started pinging the other guys. We could leave earlier than our planned 9:00. Let's get out by 8:00! Alan and I were to meet Dave in Calistoga. He was going to drive the Porsche from Folsom and connect with us. Alan and I had a simple ride/drive up to Lower lake and down into Calistoga. I had the first half of 29 all alone and was able to has some good fun. That was nice. We hung around the gas station, sitting in chairs, smoking a cigar while we waited for Dave. Dave showed up, gassed up, and we were ready to roll. Met a nice fella on a KTM Superduke. He was on a couple week long trip alone. Just out exploring. Wasn't going to the races because he had to get home to LA for his son's birthday on Saturday. Told us a story of hitting a deer and breaking seven ribs. Knocked out too. But he had an air vest on. Still wears one of course. So I'm going to look into that.
We took off and the roads were amazing all the way to Bodega Bay. I had set these super cool tracks and it was all backroads. Dave and I had a little fun going fast on some nice switchbacks on good pavement. Fun stuff. We rolled into Doran Beach about 3:00. This was great because we didn't stay there. Our campsite was terrible, but that wasn't why we left. It was because the uptight gal at the check in said we couldn't have the other motorcycles at the camp. Two vehicle rule. So dump. I knew of Bodega Dunes campground across the water. I called them and the gal said she has about 7 first come first serves. So we jumped in the truck and boogied over there. Got space 91. Quiet perfect for us. Extra vehicles just pay a little, but can join. Freaking state of California camp rules. Swen rolled in next. We had sent out a group text about the campsite change. He got the message but Forrest didn't. Forrest went to Doran and visited with our neighbors. Pretty funny. They told him we left. He figured things out and got over to us. It was getting a little late and guys were getting hungry. There could be war soon. Guys can get volatile when they get hangry. We piled in the truck and hit Fishetarian. So yummy. But sheesh, I blew out 50 bucks on dinner for myself. Raw oysters might have been the reason I was feeling nauseous the next morning. We got back to camp and played poker. Swen was on a roll. I think Alan was the big winner.
Once I got past feeling sick the next morning, we got rolling. I was last to get up and the guys had a bunch of conversations around the corporate world, work, job performance, etc. I tried to not puke. Fun times!
All packed up and going, but unfortunately, Swen had a front wheel slide in the deep sand in camp and dropped his bike. This would have been nothing except his carbon fiber hand guard hit the log and broke. Now what the heck? What kind of fancy hand guard doesn't do its job? Terrible. We fired the other side due to future poor performance. He threw them both away eventually. Time to hire good hand guards that actually do their job. Hard to find good workers these days!
We got that sorted on off we went. We were going to spend the day south on the 1 until it took us up to the 101 and across the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a blast. Dave was driving his driver's car and hanging with the bikes. The Bronco and truck were not too far behind at any given time. We had car folks that just wouldn't pull over for us and that was frustrating. Why can't you just take 10 seconds and pull over and let this groups of fast people by. Why? I pulled over to gather everyone and Alan showed up. He was the sweep all weekend. But, unfortunately, he hit a tree branch that hanging down in the road and hidding in the shadow. Fortunately for the bikes there was enough debris on the ground that we swerved before we even saw the branch. Could have very well killed us. As it was, it broke Alan's right mirror and dented the truck. Well shit. That sucks. But hey, that's what insurance is for. As of today it's a 3,000 dollar repair. But that's why we pay insurance!
We got across the hammering wind on the Golden Gate and decided to go 19th Avenue instead of the waterfront to save some time. The bikes lost the cars here. We all agreed we'd just meet at the offramp of the 280 at the 92. But then Dave pulls up next to me. His rear wing was up. I hadn't seen that before. He is in the left lane and then simply hammers it and takes off like a rocket. Later he tells us the shift point from 2nd to 3rd gear is 105. He slows down and leads us kindly to our exit. We gather again, have a beer, and talk about wind. The freaking wind won't let up. It was bugging the car guys so much. Yeah right! So Dave leads and we get up to the 35 to head over to Alice's restaurant. Sadly, the fog was in, the surface was went, and I was in zero mood to slide tires. This is a moment I like having goggles on. It's easier than a full shield.
We get to Alice's and it's busy. Not as many bikes as I had hoped, but Friday at Alice's is likely always busy. They put in a huge outdoor area around back so I picked a table in the sun with a table next to it in the shade. We all had a great lunch and great conversation.
We hung around out front for a while, looking at cars and bikes and people. Then it was off to Monterey. I tracked us to stay on the 35 up and over the 17. I kind of forgot how tight and twisty that can get. Some cars coming at me frightened me. So I was taking it super easy. We got down into Soquel and it dumped us on the Freeway. We missed all of Santa Cruz traffic but did just catch a bit here. I said I wouldn't lane split due to how wide my hard bags are, but immediated did it anyway. Weird. Who's in control here, me or the KTM? Anyway, it was long before we just sitting in bumper to bumper on the way to Moss Landing. I knew it. I hate that section. I probably should have routed us into Watsonville and then in the back way to Castroville to miss this section. It added on about 15 minutes sitting in traffic. That's not the main problem, it's having to clutch over and over. Swen doesn't have this problem because his Rekluse makes his act like an automatic. Anyway, we gather at the cabin.
You like sleeping in a tiny house with 5 other guys? With only 4 beds? One bathroom? We were crowded, I'm not going to lie to you. Plus, if you were lucky, you got the main room with the bathroom and a roommate that sounded like he was pooping himself all night. No, it's cool. It didn't smell. To be fair, Forrest was demoing my Hyke and Byke sleeping pad. It's amazing. But he didn't quite get the valve closed all the way when he filled it so it leaked. He was on hard wood most of the night. That hard wood was squeezing poop sounds out of him. Get it? Hard wood? Poop? Anyway, we had three nights in the cabin and to be honest things went just fine. Nobody really sleeps that great on these trips so you just accept that. Get maybe 4 hours in total and you can press on. Start the day with a safety beer just in case.
The cabin is located in a neighborhood just 10 minutes from the track. That was sweet. Plus, we Safeway, Black Bear Diner, and other resources within walking distance. It was quite awesome. We play poker and chess. Sequence Chess. You have a partner but you can't speak to them. Unless you cheat of course. Which some dudes do. Cheaters.
Anyway, heading to the track Saturday morning was a breeze. We got in and then the bikes headed up to my cousin Evan's rv above Rainey corner to deliver him some Coors Light. So glad we did this because we hung out there Sunday for about 2 hours and watched a race and drank. It was a blast. We then went and parked the bikes and connected with the car guys. They were parked in the truck just a stone's throw away. Which was super cool because we had a cooler full of beer. It was dubbed the watering hole later. I learned that Coronas made us all pee a lot. I mean A LOT. Way to hydrate fellas. Good job. We met up with Rob and Matt and then Marc and Zildgian. We walked around the spectator parking. This is always a highlight for me. You see a little of everything.
There were a lot of Harleys. A lot. Most I've ever seen. They must have come for the parade on the track and then because the bagger class tugs at their heartstrings. It was like sportbike numbers of old days. In fact, there weren't that many sportbikes or adventure bikes. And the vendors didn't cater to them either. They catered to the Harley group. I was hoping to buy some new gloves but there wasn't much for me. Swen wanted to buy a new helmet, and while Scorpion was there, they didn't have much inventory. This was disappointing because in years past that is usually some of the fun, to shop and maybe get a good deal on something.
Eating breakfast at Black Bear saved me from having to eat at the track. That was cool. I just drank water and beers. Ate some of the stale tortilla chips that Mission was handing out. My gosh why would you not make sure they were correct. Sheesh.
Had a moment when it was just me and Dave and Jason and we were down inside 10. There was a couple, spectators, looking through the photo window in the gate. Like right there by the air fence. I looked over at the corner worker. Old guy. Sitting down. Waves me over. Says we can have five minutes in the window when they leave. That's so cool. I offered him stale chips. He already had a bag of them. Lucky him.
One thing that is super cool about MotoAmerica is how open the paddock is. You get to be up close and personal. You see riders and bikes and teams of mechanics. I loved watching the Ducati team for Josh Herron chaning out his engine. I could of stood there all day. Just right there in front of me. Merced would have been proud. I just stood there with a beer and offered advice, just like I do in Merced's garage.
Did you just think, "Shit Pete, did you really offer advice?"? For once, I kept my mouth shut.
Another thing about MotoAmerica is that they have so many classes the track is almost never quiet. I don't like this particularly. I like it when there is quiet time and all the bikes are in the paddock and you can carry on a conversation.
We made sure Dave got to see the whole track. That was Saturday, and then on Sunday he became our leader. It was funny. Jason and I had a little fun with that. "Hey Dave, did you say we should head to the paddock while the superbikes are in?"
Most all of us went up to Evan's place and hung out with him and his fellas. We had some red beers and just hung out and visited. Super cool. Watched a race from up there. Pretty nice. Less wind on Sunday so it was much better. Dang, on Saturday it was howling in spots.
Sunday had 3 superbike races and by the third one we were just all sitting on the grass by the truck. Forrest said it later: "It's really not about the racing for me, it's just really about traveling and hanging out and having fun." I added that it's about the carnival of racing. Super cool to see so many America flags flying and I loved looking around during the national anthem both days seeing the fans standing with their hats in the hand and hand on their heart. Warmed my heart. Motorcycles bring people together, regardless of which brand you ride.
Which brings me, finally, to the LC8. Such a great touring motorcycle. So dang fun. Comfortable, fast, and competent in all areas. Loved it. I decided the hard bags let the wind mess with things too much. I'll likely only run those when I have Colleen with me. Mosco for me when I'm alone.
Jason had to head home. At least he was in his Bronco. Drew did too. But the rest of us were headed in the vehicles over to Rob and Patty's for dinner. It was super fun. She made us lamb kabobs. We all had a great time. We didn't stay too long and it was just plain fun. We even got a dart game in while Rob was showing the Carlson fellers some of his art.
We headed back to the cabin for more poker and chess. I always have mixed feelings on Sunday night. I don't want the fun to end. But Alan and Forrest and I had a fun Monday planned with a short finish home for Tuesday. That extends the fun a bit. All the other fellers had to get home on Monday. I was feeling for Swen because he was going to go the superslab. Our bikes do it fine, but it's just no fun. But Swen had his sons and that is special. Same for Marc. Fo and I were outside with Grayson and just chatting and we got to talking about student debt. Grayson started going on and on about how amazing his dad is and that his dad is his hero. He took care of his family and always put them first. Fine thing to recognize and speak out loud.
We did our normal Black Bear Breakfast and then cleaned the cabin for departure. We decided just to ride the 1 north all the way to SF. It was gorgeous. Still a bit windy though. We got seperated from Alan in the city but had already agreed to meet on the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was fun. Much less wind and a beautiful day. We hung out there for a half hour or so. And then, the worst section of the trip I think. 30 minutes of the 101 battling it out with all the drivers up to Santa Rosa to Russian River Brewing for an early dinner and a Pliney. Yucky half our that was. Still super windy there and then doing 70 to 80 mph is no fun. I don't trust car drivers and I simply just don't like riding on the freeway. Never have. No bueno. Nicht. Nada.
The brewery was slamming. What? At 3:00 on a Monday? What the heck. It was crazy. We got salad and pizza. Awesome. Didn't have to cook at camp. We hit crazy construction traffic on the way to camp. Bummer. Stopped. Engine off. It was hot. No bueno. Another rider went gingerly passed us on the right side. So I said to Fo, what if we grab a couple of beers and do that? So I jumped off, went to the back of the truck, opened a cooler and grabbed four beers. The guy behind Alan was watching me and when I looked up he gave me the Shaka sign. Haha. The life of a motorcyclist with a buddy and a truck. Priceless. So we took off and there were signs with cones, of course, in the bike lane. At one point I darted down into the orchard and around the signage and back up. So there. We got some offroading in. Alan ended up about 15 minutes behind us at camp. I picked number 27 and thankfully we didn't start setting up. Alan and Doc went down to pay and it turns out that was reserved. We moved to 23. And of course nobody ever came and filled 27. Classic.
Guess what we played? 3 man poker. It was fun, but it is a bit of a different game I'll admit. I think I got drunk. It seems likely. Anyway, those whisky sevens are so dang tasty.
Monday home was pretty good. The track took us back to Calastoga up to the 20 and then down to the 45. Quite pleasant. One stop for rest and a beer and a long visit. Perfect. Met a couple on a Harley out of Canada. They stopped and had a picnic in the shade near us.
Overall it was a great trip indeed. Everyone home safely and only a little damage to machinery.
