4/22/12
Marshall (Oysters)
Point Reyes Lighthouse
(Fog)
and
4/23/12
Page Mill & Alpine Roads (Curves)
Pescadero (Beer)
Story by: Ned Opdyke
nedopdyke@gmail.com
As per the typical routine, I got out of bed first… made
(and drank) the coffee… made (and ate) the breakfast… packed and organized our
gear… and verified our route.
The bottom-right corner of the map is San Rafael. That’s about 15 miles north of the Golden
Gate Bridge (San Francisco was our starting point that morning). The top-middle is Marshall, where we had
lunch at an oyster bar. And the
left-middle is the Point Reyes Lighthouse.
From there back to San Fran, was our route for the day.
Initially, Sharon was not nearly as excited as I was about getting on the road, but after a few wake up songs to help her get in the mood, she was quickly ready to roll. Cue the band Little Feat, and their song “Let it Roll.”
We met the other riders at a coffee shop a couple blocks
from Golden Gate Park.
Back row: Shannon, Todd, David, Ned, and Sharon. Front row:
Jay and Laure.
Johnny and Patricia Delores where at the next table, and
they provided a colorful photo-op. I
haven’t gone to their blog yet, but Johnny said it was called PD Parrot and
they’d been written up in The New York Times.
He and his bird are very close.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
It was a little foggy when we took off around 10:30 and headed across the Golden Gate Bridge, but by the time we got to the Lucas Valley exit, just north of San Rafael, the sun was out and it was time to strip down to our tee-shirts and leathers.
I wish we would’ve had a chance to stop a few times to take
pictures, as we traveled the next 20 miles or so, winding our way through some
very pretty terrain between Hwy 101 and Hwy 1 at the southern tip of Tomales
Bay. We turned our bikes north on
Highway 1 for another 10 miles and stopped at an oyster bar in Marshall. Good times were had by all.
Thanks Sharon, this
is a great photo!
It was the first time I’ve had raw oysters.
Sharon and Todd agreed… it was the day.
 |
| The Wo-Men |
 |
| The Men |
The Motley Crew.
After lunch we headed south, the way we came. First we lost Todd… he turned back east, the
way we’d come. He had a function to
attend that afternoon. I didn’t catch
the details, but it sounded like he was getting together with about 10,000 of
his closest friends at some sort of an outdoor music festival, or something
like that.
The next of our group to separate from us was Jay. I’m not sure exactly why he had to get back
to The City so soon, but we were all glad.
He’s a real pain in the ass.
AH! JUST KIDDING!!! I know he can take the kidding. Jay is really a great guy.
So now it was Shannon, Laure, David (pronounced Daveed), and
Sharon and I. We took Sir Francis Drake
Blvd. out across the Point Reyes Peninsula, to the very most western tip of The
Greater San Francisco Bay area, at the northern tip of Drakes Bay. It was foggy and cold, but we were troupers,
and roughed the brutal weather conditions like true soldiers (it wasn’t until
later that the girls got tired and cranky).
Shannon and I walked down the 300 steps to the lighthouse,
and had a very special bonding moment, listening to the ‘park ranger-docent’
educate us on the history of the lighthouse.
Laure, Sharon, and David were faithfully awaiting us when we returned,
and we all strolled back to our bikes and happily headed back inland, where the
temperatures were substantially warmer.
But only for a few short miles.
In the brief time that it had taken us to ride out to the
lighthouse and back, the fog had moved in with gusto. Earlier it had been 75 degrees and clear blue
skies. Now it was miserable. For those of you who’ve never ridden a
motorcycle in the cold fog… you’re lucky.
Because of the humidity, the wind chill factor is compounded
exponentially. Instead of tee-shirts, we
were all wearing every single layer of clothing we had brought.
When we stopped to confirm that we weren’t gonna have that
beer we’d talked about earlier, I overheard the cutest pitiful whines and
complaints coming from the girls on the other bikes. Sharon showed me her metal, as she giggled
and asked me not to say anything to tease them.
Sharon is good for me.
I’ve always been the kind of guy who LOVES to tease people. In high school we called it E.S. Endless Shit.
In our group of friends, if we weren’t flipping each other ‘grief’…
well… we weren’t having fun. Over the
years, I’m slowly learning to behave more like an adult, and Sharon is helping
me tremendously. She does it with the
consummate taste and decorum of a high class and well-educated lady. And she does it at the same time she’s
talking about catching and gutting a salmon in the back woods of Alaska, and
throwing it on the barbeque while it’s still wiggling. That’s my wife… a high class lady and a
rugged outdoorswoman.
Getting back to 101, there was a construction work delay
that caused a traffic jam that took us over an hour to get through, so we got
home exhausted, cold, and very happy around 6:30pm. It was just like Todd’s shirt said: Today is the Day.
Part 2:
The next day Sharon
and I had a very pleasant breakfast, and said our good-byes until we got
together again the following weekend.
Being married to a woman who lives 85 miles away is an interesting
experience for me. I don’t think I
could’ve done it when I was younger and full of my oats and vinegar. But now, as my gray hair begins to thin, and
my joints move with greater discomfort and with less range of motion… I feel it
actually helps our relationship.
We are both very secure in the love we have for each other,
and the time we spend apart is getting to be more like an opportunity for us to
process our lives and futures together, and to anticipate the re-unification of
our physical bodies… rather than a time of sorrow and loneliness. Plus… both of us are very demanding and not
very easy to be around all the time, so it’s probably a good thing we aren’t
living together 24/7, or we might kill each other. KIDDING!!!
See… that sarcastic foundation of my upbringing just will not go away
without a fight!
Ok, so after breakfast and our good-byes, I took off for
Santa Cruz, and she took off for her work.
As I started down southbound Highway 280, I decided that even though it
looked cold and foggy on the coast, I wanted to go home a different route than
I normally take (280 to 85 to 17). I’d
never been on Page Mill Road before, so just like Todd’s shirt says, “Today is
the Day.”
About half way up to the summit and Skyline Blvd., I saw one of Honey’s favorite signs and decided to have her pose for a picture. The little black curly and curvy roads on the map are the ones that Honey and I aim for, whenever possible.
Honey is a real poser, so only a mile or so up the road, she made me stop again. That’s Santa Clara Valley and you can see the big while hangars at Moffet Field there on the left.
When we crossed Skyline Blvd, and started back down the other side towards the coast, the road’s name changed to Alpine. Page Mill and Los Altos Hills is very beautiful, but the vast and native scenery that treated me now, was even better.
The night before, after our Pt. Reyes ride, Sharon had
mentioned that while we were going through Lucas Valley, she had seen a few
homesteads, and had dreamed of a way and a day that she and I could live in a
private secluded home, off the beaten path, alone with each other for the
majority of the time. She loves me and I
am a very lucky man. Anyway… as I was
heading down Alpine Road towards Pescadero, I stopped and took a picture of a
house on a hill that reminded me of her description of her walking dream.
In the old days (or to be more accurate the old daze), I wouldn’t have even thought once about NOT stopping at Duarte’s Restaurant/ Bar in Pescadero for a cold one. Times have changed quite a bit for me over the last few years, so I had to think several times before I decided to stop.
One last, quick stop to document the mustard field just
outside of Pescadero., before getting home and putting this story
together. I hope you enjoyed it. See you soon!
THE END
