Monday 30 Sep 2024
I didn’t leave the camp at Jedediah Smith State Park especially early, and the host came by to collect the cards that have to be hung by the site you occupy. However, he didn’t stop to chat, so maybe he and his missus had a talk and decided it wasn’t worth making a fuss.
I made the short ride to Walker Road to see the grove of Redwoods there as Susan’s friend had recommended. It was an experience I’m glad I didn’t miss; as is often the case, when I find myself in tranquil places like this, I want to linger. These towering giants have a magnificent, yet calming presence; they are like cathedral pillars, only grander and more impressive.
The trees are not the fattest, when compared to a baobab, for example, but they are soooo tall. Looking up is like trying to see the top of a skyscraper; you eventually fall over backwards! No matter how many times you look up, each time is still amazing.
Every bend in the path brings another impressive giant, and you only get a real idea of their size when you see one that has fallen over. Part of the beauty is that apart from the path the wood is in its natural state.
It was still relatively early, so there were few people on the trail, but on the way out, I met Gracie Klema, a delightful lady from N Carolina, who was migrating to Bend, Oregon and living in her converted Honda CVR. We had a great chat and might still be there had Luka not phoned me. Like my two friends from the previous days, she had a “je ne sais quoi”; something that is indefinable, but includes a curiosity and an optimism about life, with a desire and determination to get out there and face it head on, taking every opportunity and experience offered. Good luck to all three of you ladies; I love it (and you).
The short ride from here to Grants Pass was unremarkable and uneventful. It had some nice twisty bits, but that’s about all I can remember about it.
My host for the night was David Hutchins, another Bunk-a-Biker host. When I arrived at his house, he was already at the Italian restaurant in town, but he came back, picked me up and we had an excellent meal of pasta with meat sauce. I know it wasn’t Wednesday, but I’m on my holidays, so I thought I could make an exception. 😊 We also have a very nice bottle of Italian wine for the, locally, reasonable price of $26.
David then took me to a shop that sells drugs (pharmacy type) at one end and guns and ammo at the other – only in America! I bought one of their t-shirts, which I will probably never wear – blame it on the pint of Peroni and wine!
Tuesday Oct 1 2024
Today was to be one of my longest days in the saddle; 460 km. I was on the road by 0900 and after stopping for fuel and breakfast, it was onto a long, straight, hot and boring road that seemed to go on forever.
I crossed back into California where the scenery was variable but not too interesting. There were a few hills and some nice curves, but that was it.
After a bit I noticed a bike behind me; He kept pace more or less for about 100-150 km and then we both stopped for fuel. Mike, from Austin Texas, was on his way home from Alaska on a GS310. We had a good chat at the gas station and then went for coffee. We got there just 2 minutes after closing! Happily, we found another coffee place in this tiny town with about 4 shops and spent a good half hour exchanging stories.
I was staying the night with Steve Mandeville, and the remainder of the road to his house was much more fun, but the sinking sun was a problem, meaning I went into some bends blind. I came up with the idea of putting tape along the bottom of my visor and then, when it was up, it would work like a peak.
I finally arrived about 1800. Kim made me some very welcome sandwiches and Steve and I had a couple of beers. He has an amazing passion for motorcycles and motorcycling. We set some of the world to rights, before the long day took its toll and I headed to bed in the little tepee Steve had set up for Bunk-a-Bikers.
Wednesday 02 Oct 2024
After a slightly restless night, I was up early and raring to go; this was the final leg of my journey! I rode to nearby Susanville where I had, a novel breakfast in a box, and was given some Barry teabags, by the owner/waiter, to carry me on my way. While chatting to him I realised it was 6 months to the day since I left home on a sunny April morning; it seemed a lifetime ago.
Belfast WA, The Town That Never Was – 02 Oct 2024
Belfast is a mere 20 km from Susanville, so it didn’t take me long to bet there. To my dismay, Belfast Road was gravel, but at the intersection there were two signs displaying the name, making me happy. I set out cautiously along the road which was seriously corrugated. Since there was no other sign of life, when I noticed a car behind me, I stopped and flagged them down to ask for some info. Susan, had some info, called someone else who had a bit more, but was reluctant to talk to me, and then she suggested I speak to Vernon Meehan who, she was certain, would know a lot more.
I took the sandy side-road towards the indicated house and was eventually greeted by three barking dogs. I stayed on my bike until someone appeared to assure me my life was not in immediate danger.
Vernon didn’t know much in detail, but he did tell me that about 150 years ago the area had been homesteaded by three families. Of these only the McAllisters were still around, and it the house next to his was, in fact, built by the first generation of McAllisters, and was still inhabited by the family.
Apart from Belfast Road, there was also a farm called Belfast Ranch. This, however had been named relatively recently by the owner, who was now deceased.
A little further along Belfast Road there were some petroglyphs, made by the area’s original inhabitants. I was about to go and see them, but then learned they were some 5 miles away. I decided against it as the road was so poor, time was getting on – it as already 1430 – and I didn’t want to tempt fate. However,I did get some photos from Gita McAllister, a 4th generation McAllister who was visiting the family there. One of these was a picture of an information poster and on this I discovered the following:
“In 1864, Captain Charles Merrill, a retired sea captain turned land speculator, came here and envisioned a city of 21,000 people. He suggested a dam on Willow Creek, creating a lake for sail boating. He named the place after Belfast, Maine, his boyhood home. …. The town never materialised, even though there were several later attempts to revive it.”
I found this the oddest Belfast. The people I met were not unfriendly but were not particularly friendly either. They also showed the least interest in the origin of their home-place name of all people I had spoken to; epitomised by the fact that, on a nearby historical site, there was an explanation of the origin of the name that none was aware of.
Having completed this part of my odyssey, I left with a strange feeling, oddly not one of euphoria. It was a mixture of relief that I had finally finished, because I had been feeling a little jaded the last week or two, and satisfaction that I had accomplished what I had set out to do, despite a few along the way.
There was no time to dwell on it as I had to make some miles to my intended campsite. This turned out to be closed, so again I was sitting in a carpark trying to find another. Having gone to a gas station to ask for advice, I returned to the bike only to discover it was now not firing on all 4 cylinders; another reminder not to get too self satisfied. The journey clearly wasn’t over yet!
I limped off heading along the shore of Lake Almanor where I had been assured I would find several campsites. I did, and while electing my tent was greeted by a couple of the guys on dirt bikes who were camping nearby.
I was invited to join them at their fire where we shared a beer and made toasted pork sandwiches. Of course I cannot remember all their names, but you know who you are guys, and I thank you for the company, the craic, the beer and, of course, the toasties.
Thursday 03 Oct 2024
As the guys were heading out, I set about resolving my engine problem. It turned out to be a fouled spark plug, and when this was replaced all sound good again.
My route was south along Highways 36 and 49. What a great road 49 turned out to be. After stopping for coffee at Sierra City, where I had hoped to get fuel, but had, instead, to retrace my steps a little to a previous town, I had 80 km of perfect winding road without seeing another vehicle going the same way. This I though was a fitting end to my 14,000 mile journey.
My next stop was in Nevada City and I just happened to stop outside Nevada City Winery. I wandered in just to enjoy that distinctive smell of cork, wine and earth that typifies such places. Here I met Amber and Paula, who introduced me to their “Library Wines”, some older wines that they were trying to clear; these were 15 years old, which, for me, was unusual for Californian wines. So, breaking my normal rule of not drinking alcohol while riding, I sampled four of their wines (I did spit out the sample). I ended up with a couple of bottles that I then had to find space for.
I completed my ride to Auburn, where I was staying with Heidi Tijsseling. Heidi was a impressive lady, who, after a hard start in her adult life, put herself through vet school and clearly had done very well.
She took me to the local biker bar for dinner and there we met up with Lisa Lesar Klang. Lisa is, amongst other things a line dancing instructor. By strange coincidence she will be in Adelaide from mid-January to mid-February, so we exchanged details and plan to meet up.
Friday 04 Oct 2024
Another long day lay ahead – 330 km – to Fresno.I continued on HW 49 and it varied greatly. One stretch was a windy road over and through a mountain, where overshooting on a left-handed turn would leave you at the bottom of the cliff some 200 m below. Like the road the scenery varied for dull to spectacular, but the intense concentration required to stay between the hedges, prevented a full appreciation.
After a breakfast stop in Angels Camp the road became busier. I stopped again in Mariposa and here had an encounter with a French rider, who was on an organised group ride on shiny Harleys. He was very interested in the logistics of moving a bike from Europe to France and went away suggesting that he would look into this in future rather than hire a bike again.
I finally arrived at Fresno and a very warm welcome from my old friend Mona Cummings Nyandoro’s. My ride was over!
Belfast-2-Belfast-By-Bike 