To: WL
From: "Kathy E. Gill" <keg@dotparagon.com>
Subject: Day Two : Remedial Math 101 - Part Two
Cc:  
Bcc: PE 
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Saturday night, Suz's S.O. Dave was on a 'blues roll' ... and 
it was 12:15 before I persuaded him that I really really had 
to go to bed. Crashed (literally) around 12:30. Up at 6. 

<groan> 

Disconnected the original tail light - leaving only the 
auxiliary unit. Crossed fingers that this would take care of 
the need to wiggle fuses. (Report from Monday night : it seems 
to have done so.) 

Out of their driveway around 7:30 -- MUCH better packed than 
Saturday. The laptop is now inside the Ventura (although still 
in its padded case and REI waterproof bag). The compression sack 
with "cold weather" gear is strapped onto the right tourmaster. 

Run down to Yreka - get gas and a bite to eat - then backtrack 
to 96. It's now 8:30-8:45ish. Beautiful morning - still crisp. 
Very glad I decided on leggings and long-sleeved t-shirt; still 
idly wondering if I shouldn't have used the polar fleece leggings. 
Too late now.

The road runs along the Klamth River, starting out in sunshine 
and gentle curves. This gives me a chance to get used to how the 
Duc turns "under load." She doesn't seem to mind the extra weight - 
which is less than a second rider would be.

I notice that there is a U-Haul truck in a major hurry a few turns 
in front of me. Boost my speed a bit to catch him (or her) - and 
he nudges the throttle a bit. We're now into serious turns and forests. 
I'm content to run behind the truck - it serves as a deer shield and 
spots the corners for me. After ~40 miles of this, he turns off. 

In the first hole-in-the-road community (Seiad Valley - but The 
State of Jefferson - ? - is printed everywhere), I spy a 24-hour 
card-read gasoline pump. Remembering Ken's experience at CTS, 
having no idea how many miles before another gas stop, and 
desperately needing to relive myself of hydration <g>, I stop 
for gas. Edging back onto the road thru the hard pack gravel, 
I wait for a doe to leisurely cross the road. She has the right 
of way. ;-)

For 100+ miles, I have this road practically to myself. What 
little traffic I encounter is heading east. The few autos I 
overtake, as a general rule, move over and let me pass. I've 
got a rhythm now, but I keep my left toe out as a peg feeler - I don't 
want to go too far over with the weight on the back. I only touch 
it down once.

I really can't describe what a beautiful morning this was. I felt 
in tune with myself, with nature, with the bike. In its own way, it 
was as spiritual as a morning in church.

Stop in Orleans for potty break and fuel for myself. I want a 
carton of milk - and buy some fig newton's. I'm just not in the 
mood for a Balance Bar out of my pack. 

Traffic has picked up. Whether this is because it's later in the day - 
or because I'm getting closer to "civilization" - I don't know. Encounter 
my first speed trap of the day in Hoopa.

At Willow Creek (96 termination point, about 155 miles from start at I-5) 
I gas up, get more water, and think about lunch in Eureka (50 miles away). 
Before I can finish - a gaggle of bikes appear. One guy comes over to chat - 
and then another. He says, "Did you buy that bike from Dave Roosevelt?"

"Yes," I say, "and how do you know Dave?"

"I used to be the regional sales rep for Ducati," he says, pointing 
to the Ducati helmet he's carrying. His name is Duffy, and we commence 
chatting. (Being social can kill a schedule, but hey, there is no train to 
catch, and I'm still operating under false expectations of how many miles 
I will ride today.)

Between talking with these guys (a CHP snagged their lead rider, they're 
mostly from the BA, and one of their group crashed his H-D on 128 yesterday) 
and waiting in line (the Chevron station pump required me - and everyone else, 
it seemed - to pay at the cashier) ... I spent 30+ minutes here.

Before I leave, a 900ss pulls up for fuel. He's a local (Redding) headed to 
the coast. He asks about the Monster; I tell him about the CHP - and then 
fall in behind him til 101.

It's chilly and foggy - and then - Eureka! <g> - the sun comes out and one 
of the first things I see is the paper mill. Stop at Wendy's for lunch in an 
effort to make up some time. It's about 100 miles to Leggett on 101 - much 
of it four-lane expressway-type highway. I now start seeing motorcycles 
*everywhere* -  mostly in groups (a few solo BMW riders, a few solo 
GoldWing riders, but they're always two-up). 


Kathy
still postponed