Friday May 6th, 2006
The second day starts at 7:00am. Nate's group is pretty much up
and is
getting ready to head out early in the morning because they have 350+
miles of twisties to cover for the day. They're planning on
taking the 1 all the way up to Monterey and then riding back down the
101 to El Capitan, West of Santa Barbara. Nate was complaining
about somebody snoring so loud the night before that he couldn't
sleep. The only tent that was truly close to his tent was Vance
and Russell's tent. Between Vance and Russell, they both mumbled
something and came to the conclusion that Vance was probably the louder
one (more about this story later).
At this point more people started getting up. Some are just
starting to go to bed (Primo). Either Kevin's voice is a lullaby
or he's so boring that Primo is finally falling asleep.
Apparently
he's been up all night tossing and turning not able to catch one once
of sleep (a repeat from last
year). When Vince materialized from a tent, we all noticed a blue
backpack leaning against a tree. Nunez, Vince, Kevin and myself
were all wondering if that blue bag wasn't Jame's seemingly red
backpack.
No one had touch it the entire night and if it did belong to someone,
they would have recognized it and grabbed it by now. So we waited
for James to get up. Once he popped out of his hole, we all asked
him if that blue backpack was his. That in reality he was suppose
to
be searching for a blue backpack and not a red backpack. We can
all see the gears turning in his head. There is a look of
confusion and doubt, then it clicks. Yes, it's his backpack. The
contents of the backpack was his.
Yet he still thought he
had a red backpack. Maybe it changed color over night.
He then mentioned something about owning a
plethora of backpacks and was mistaken about the color.
Personally, I think that backpack is one of those packs that can change
color by poring the different temperature water on it.
Who knows, maybe he can make a polka dot backpack out of that.
James, Nate, Vance, Nunez, Russell, and myself all got breakfast while
the other kept on sleeping. Nate's group headed off for the
second day's ride while the rest of us lounged around the camp site
until everybody is ready to go.
Not too much longer, everybody got up and all had their fill of
breakfast. By this time it was around noon and we started packing
for our next destination, Solvang and El Capitan. It was critical
that we go to Solvang because that's where we're suppose to meet up
with the third group, Eugene's group. The planned route was to
take the 1 highway as far as it went and try not to touch the 101
freeway until we have to get to Solvang. This takes us right
through Guadalupe (more about that later). We all started
saddling up and heading out. Of course our friendly park host had
to stop by and make sure we're leaving. He was at least cordial
enough this time to ask about our next destination. I mentioned
our final destination is El Capitan. To that he mentioned it was
a
very nice park and we will like it there. One last pit stop
at the local restroom and we all headed off.
Vince and Joseph ... forever our lovable pyromaniacs.
No tricks this time regarding what route to take. I made sure to
inform the support vehicle of all exits and turns. Unfortunately,
this proved futile. We got separated again and they were far
enough behind that they couldn't pick up my two-way radio signal.
I was trying to inform them to take the Pismo Beach exit, but they just
trucked right on by. They ended up taking the next off ramp which
was further down the freeway. The group of motorcycles stuck
together and eventually got on to the 1 highway. We cruised
through town until I finally got a call from support via cell
phone. They weren't sure where they were relative to us and
thought that we're much further North-West of them. It turns out
we were much further East of them and they had to catch up.
After about 15-20 minutes, things got straightened out as they passed
us on the 1 highway. We all quickly started our bikes and caught
up.
The stretch of the 1 highway from Pismo Beach to Guadalupe was
spectacular. Some of us (Russell) even
had flash backs of being in England or thought we were in the East
Coast somewhere. As for me, I thought I was in the Long Way
Round. The country side was
beautiful and the ride was very pleasurable, but this is the where the
real fun begins. As we made it to Guadalupe we all stopped at a
gas station at the outskirts of town for a quick gas up and a short
rest.
Fueled and rested, we all started heading out. Most were on one
side of the road waiting for everybody to get moving. The support
vehicle then took off in front of all of us while I was fidgeting with
something. I was the last one to move out and ended up at the
tail of the pack. At this point, another car had squeezed in
between the support vehicle and us. Not wanting to be separated
too far from the support vehicle, we all started passing the car on the
right side of the road. This wasn't such a bad thing until Joseph
decided to pass the support vehicle on the right side while doing a
fiery speed. Unfortunately the Guadalupe police was on the other
side of the street and caught a glimpse of what Joseph did. The
COP lit up his lights, blared his horn and started ripping after
Joseph. The funny thing was, being the last one in the pack, I
was also the last one to pass the unknown car on the right side of the
street. The Guadalupe patrol car was on the opposite side of the
street and had to make a U turn to chase after Joseph. There was
a moment of hesitation between him and me as I was trying to stop to
allow him to finish his U turn. Within that time Joseph had
managed to make a turn on to another road and dodged the COP. The
patrol car tried to chase Joseph but was unsuccessful. The COP
eventually doubled back and came out the same street he started going
in immediately after the U turn. Within this time Joseph had made
the round and was a long side the support vehicle again. Seeing
this, Primo motioned Joseph to "Get the f*ck out of here!".
Joseph screamed pass the support vehicle again. The patrol car,
with sirens blaring, pulled Russell and the rest of
the bikes over. Remember, Russell has an R1 and Joseph has an
R6. They don't look that much different from one another.
The patrol car stopped just on the other side of a four way
intersection and motioned for Russell to move over towards the patrol
car. Russell, knowing better, refused to budge. The police
officer, very annoyed, walked over towards Russell. He of course
started talking to Russell. During the time he walked over I
think he realized that Russell wasn't the guy he was looking for.
Still he started screaming at Russell about Joseph. "Where's your
buddy?! Where is your buddy?!" To which Russell
replied, "What buddy? I don't know who you're talking
about." After the initial screaming I really couldn't hear what
else was said between the COP and Russell. Russ later told me
that the COP was asking about Joseph and all Russell said was, "I don't
know who you're talking about. I'm with this group, and the BMW."
(motioning towards me). A backup unit arrived and parked
right behind me blocking all the bikes in. A female COP, with
enough testosterone to make the governator looks like a little girl,
appeared and started talking to the first COP. I can kind of hear
the first COP saying, "The other guy isn't with these guys. He's
not with this group." The female COP looked miffed. At that
point I stick my neck into the mess and said, "What's wrong
officer?" To which he replied, "You guys are clear to go."
During this time Joseph had pulled into a construction area, parked his
bike, took off his helmet, and started smoking a cigarette.
From here we all left wonderful loopy Guadalupe behind. Not too
long after the ride out Joseph joined us on the remaining stretch of
the 1 highway. The 1 ended and the 101 started. We rode an
easy 20 miles on the 101 to get to Solvang.
Riding into Solvang is, as Russell puts it, like riding in the English
country side. There were tall trees and houses and shops
that looked like they were transplanted from England or Sweden.
It
was pretty cool. Our destination was on the TomTom but it wasn't
easy to get there. The road was blocked or being blocked and
there was a parking lot of cars. We
ended up taking a side street to bypass the insane traffic jam.
We ended up at the small, almost impossible to find, motorcycle
museum. We were suppose to meet Eugene and Jaime there, but no
Eugene nor Jaime was visible. In the meanwhile we notice the
streets outside of the motorcycle museum being closed off to vehicular
traffic. Not only that, we started seeing horses. Lots of
horses. There were so many horses I we couldn't possibly mistake
the smell. There were brown horses, painted horses, white horses,
black horses. With all those horses come the distinct smell of
horses ... horse poop. Oh the wonderful smells of horses'
poop.
The weird thing is, they just kept on coming. It was a good solid
hour or so of horses before it ended. You should have seen the
old ladies on the side of the road. I think there were envious of
the horse members. They were all screaming and
hollering as
the horses were walking by. Weird. Maybe they wanted a ride
or something. I can't help but remember hearing about girl really
liking to ride horses because the bouncing motion can give the girls a
massive org*sm! Whatever it was, they were
going crazy over
those horses. As for me, horse poop is not cool.
While most of us was out side looking at the wall of four legged
animal, Russell was in the motorcycle museum taking photos.
At long last Eugene and Jaime appeared. We all headed over to
greet them, while Russell was still in the museum taking
pictures.
We then decided to move our motorcycles in Eugene and Jaime's
direction because of the wall of animals. By the time we got to
the bikes, the horse parade was over and the street sweeper was
scooping up as little poop as they can. Man the street smelled of horse
after thoughts. In other
famous words, "It smells like ass!"
It is already around 4:30pm so it's time to get to the campsite and
prep for the night. With all the equipment setup and dinner, we
need what little day light we have left. The way out was slow as
traffic is still backed up. The ending of the parade help but not
by much. We inched our way out of Solvang looking for a market so
we can restock our drinks and some food for the evening. At the
last light before we exit Solvang was a little liquor store. The
group shifted over to the left turn lane and we were all read to stock
up. The support vehicle was stuck behind us one or two light back
but eventually caught up. We got our food and we got out of Dodge.
I can remember from last year that the pass between Solvang and Refugio
was really bad in terms of wind. Sure enough, this year is no
different. What do you expect when the mountains all converge on
one single point, right?.... right. As we were all speeding South
on the 101 heading towards El Capitan, Jaime, Russell, Joseph, and
Primo was in front. Remarkable, Jaime really pushes his F650GS so
he wasn't too far behind the fast pack. As for me, I was trying
to catch up to them. That is until I hit a major section of wind
on the freeway. I was push so hard from the right that I nearly
flew into the center barrier. My immediate reaction was to break
to regain control. I got it back and centered myself in the fast
lane. There were no vehicles within at least a mile in front or
behind me so things are cool. I slowed down to prevent any
unexpected mishaps. Eventually Eugene caught up to me and we all
continued on.
Once we got out of the mountains, things weren't any better. The
South wind from the ocean was so strong that we all got push from the
slow lane into the fast lane. I felt like I was about to drive on
the center median until I slowed down to regain control.
Eventually the pack reformed and we all headed to El Capitan.
Again, the TomTom got us there but not exactly to where we wanted to
go. Apparently, the TomTom only knew about the El Capitan Resort
(basically a bunch of log cabins for rent for the night) but not the
camp grounds itself. When I pulled up to the gate, I was
surprised. I mentioned to them about reservations and they looked
at me funny. They eventually figured out that I wanted the camp
grounds and directed me in the general direction. We should have
turn South instead of North. The navigation system strikes
again. Oh well, at least it got us
to the general location.
This time around, we didn't have trouble with the park dude. In
fact, the park dude was kind of cute.
She was definitely much more pleasant to talk to and was easier going
as far as additional vehicles is concerned. We ended up paying $1
more per two motorcycles than at Morro Strand but it's a cutter park
dude so no problems. Campsites 48 & 49 it
is. We all mozied in and park out bikes for the night.
It was obvious that Nate's group didn't get here before we did, unlike
the previous day. I was wondering how they were doing. The
car was unloaded and everybody quickly selected their tent spots.
I was tired and didn't want to setup the one man tent so I was going to
bunk with Nunez (This turned out to be a mistake).
We started dinner and sucked up what was left of the steaks. We
also broke out the burgers and sausages and finished our chowing
down. At around 8:00pm, Nate and his group finally showed
up. It was late but Nate and Steve decided to go ahead and skip
the camping for this night and head home instead (I learned later from
Nate that they didn't get into Pasadena until 11:00pm that
night). They stayed for a little while and then headed off.
In the meanwhile, Vance and James got filled up on burgers and sausage.
Eugene is out...
That night was hilarious. Vance showed his true colors by telling
joke after joke. Jaime wasn't far behind. We all eventually
took turns telling jokes. At one point we got onto the subject
of sexual jokes. Both straight and not so straight.
Unfortunately for Primo, his insecurity about the not so straight joke
made him a target. Poor Primo. In the end, no harm was done
and we all turned in for the night. As with the previous night,
Joseph and Vince were our favored pyros and burned everything in sight.
I guess Nunez and I were battling each other in terms of who could
snore louder. Unfortunately for me, he brought his ear muffs and
block out my version of "Silent Night". At one point he was so
loud that I had to leave the tent. I reverted to pulling my
Thermarest and sleeping bag from the tent and set myself up far enough
on the ground to not hear his vocal tones. My estimation, about
5-10 yards or so. At long last, peace and quiet.
Introduction
[It's sheer pandemonium!!!] Page 1 [...And they're off!] Page 3 [Just a couple more drops of petrol.]
Written on: May 26, 2006
Last modified: June 28, 2006
