July 8, 2017
We left Ashland, Oregon by 9:00 am. Ron and John had worked a route full of surprises. None of this 395 south and done!
First and unavoidable was highway 5 south to Klamath. We would eat there which turned out not so easy. We had to take an early exit from highway 5 as mandatory detour from cal-trans. No big deal. Lily’s cafe was very good.
Get gas and find highway 89. Some seventy miles later I see “Old Station”, “John that’s where Chris Weld had his cabin, and he might be there”. John suggested we try. “If I remember how to get there, sure!”
By trial and error, “I am not even sure his place is off Highway 89. I recognize that ridge on our left …maybe a mile further, … I remember a restaurant and then a short distance you turn, ahhh right?”
Frail as memory is, we found his house. Oh surprise! It has a FOR SALE sign, and the garage is open. He must be here!!
We parked the bikes in his driveway and I set myself to get Chris. After a couple “hello-o, hello!” Backyard, side of the house. No reply. I come to the front to find John and Chris yapping like two girls.
“Come inside, and refresh”. Inimitable Weld hospitality. As we are having a soda, John must have heard it, for I did not.
“Alberto, come here!” He yells from the driveway, “and it’s as fire hazard!!”
I come out to find his bike and mine sideways on the ground. Mind you. Those bikes were standing solid. I know because I always test my bike’s stability side-stand by pushing the bike. Solid! How on earth!? Strong wind?
We corrected the situation, inspected the bikes for any damage (John’s bike right hand-guard made of plastic will need to be replaced – I will change mine, just because these are crap!)
Back to soda and cooling on what appears to be over one hundred degrees on this day.
Chris invited us to stay the night and continue tomorrow, I wished!! But John had already arranged with friends in Garnerville Nevada. We had to depart, as we still had at least 250 miles to go, regrettably.
On the road again, hmmm (I’ve heard this before). Off highway 89 we turn onto highway 44 south and stay in it for ten-thousand-miles, or so it seemed.
My GPS says stay on this until you get to Highway 395, when John indicates “we are not going that way”. Something to be said, John has an incredible sense of direction. It pays to listen to him, even when he is wrong! He’ll find a way.
So we turned onto highway 147… a few miles later, cal-trans detour. Hmmm, not good. An in-the-mountains-detour, this is not going to be a couple of blocks, I tell myself, and right I was. Miles and miles added. My butt is commencing to complain. We went as far as Lake Almanor, rounded it and got back on highway 89 south. A bit further is Truckee and highway 70.
We went from being 140 miles away to being 188 miles away! Whooweee! Am I happy? NO! Should I say something? NO! We are there, and that is all there is to it.
On the positive side. Highway 89 south is a magnificent road. I think one of the prettiest roads I have ever been. We went by the town of Quincy.
Okay, decision time, truckee and South Lake Tahoe or 70 to 395?
“Whichever is shortest”, I reply. Oh boy! That was a mistake. Forward come possibly the most boring 100 miles I have ridden, with… high winds! Not enough, high traffic!! Not enough, my butt hurts, not enough… ah, well, let it go at that. I am not going to complain, not my style!
And, we arrive to Elizabeth’s house, and what a house! More than that what a hostess! You should know only when raised in the south do you develop into a “Southern Belle” and I say this with deep admiration. Just as the men from the south have politeness, to the point where they may punch you… but would do it politely! Am I missing something inside my head? Forget it. That is what I think.
Time to cut this short. Heading home! And I can’t wait!
See you all later this day.
This story, well this part anyway, has come to an end. Tomorrow I may put a few facts together for the bean-counters.
Thank you for reading.