Day Fifteen: Tonopah, Nevada to Petaluma, California

I got an early start from Tonopah, heading west on Highway 6/95 across the desert floor towards California.  It was a cold and windy morning.  The wind really showed its strength after Coledale, blowing snakes of sand across the road at an amazing pace and forcing the bike to lean 10-15 degrees to starboard to maintain a straight line.  After an hour of the cold creeping through the leathers, I crossed into California, at which point I stopped to put on long johns and my wool shirt.  I soon reached Benton, where while gassing up another rider walked out of the attached cafe and greeted me.  I recognized his accent as Quebecois, and the big BMW R1200GS motorcycle there bore a Quebec license plate.  After a conversation over a much-needed breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash browns and coffee, Fred and I set up Highway 120 towards Highway 395.  This section of road as an absolute joy to ride -- winding, rising, and falling with the landscape, then taking a map-straight line but with rolls the height of a tall house.  Cresting each roll put our stomachs in our mouths; the g-forces of bottoming out then pushed us down into our seats.

Highway 120 rises, winding, out of the Nevada desert into the western margin of the Sierras.

We quickly reached Highway 395 in a fog at Mono Lake, and we headed north for Highway 108 and Sonora Pass.  (We decided to skip Highway 120, which leads through Yosemite, given the greater number of RVs and lesser number of curves that we wound encounter.)  We reached Highway 108 and headed up the tight curves, quickly passing two trucks pulling fifth-wheel campers (which had no business on this route, frankly).  After the pass (elevation: 9,624') we descended the steep and technical road.  Fred was quicker than me through the twisties, and kindly waited at regular intervals for me to catch up.

The spectacular descent from Sonora Pass.

We had lunch in Strawberry, after which the curves loosened up and traffic increased.  We followed 108 through the open grass and live oaks to its junction (via Hwy 49) with Highway 120, then through the almond groves and into the central valley.  At Manteca we joined Interstate 5 for about a mile, then turned west again on 205.  This portion of the trek, and on through 580 up the Altimont Pass, felt like combat, with traffic moving at a minimum of 80 mph and spaced less than a car's length apart.  The wind was gusting from the north, and the pavement terrible.  Not my favorite stretch of road.  After a quick stop in Oakland to allow Fred to tend a bloody nose we headed across the San Rafael-Richmond bridge.  San Rafael was Fred's destination; here I had a cup of tea with him and his girlfriend Magali (a music teacher who also rides) and then turned north on Highway 101 for Petaluma.  Just as I arrived at my folks' place I saw my brother-in-law's Geico car leaving their driveway, so I performed a quick u-turn and followed.  I caught up to them at a light, and flagged them down.  We stopped, and I said hello to my brother-in-law, niece and nephew.  Showing them my bike, I noticed a flash of metal running down the center of the rear tire, illuminated by oncoming cars' headlights: the tire's steel belt, exposed bare.  I said goodbye and gingerly rode home -- time for a new set of shoes! (If you look at the picture above, you can see that the steel belt was already exposed coming down from Sonora pass, and thus for some time.  I count myself lucky that the tire held long enough for me to notice!)

After a bit over two weeks on the road, it was good to reach the home where I grew up.  Dad's away on a collecting trip, but hi Ma!   

This post was written on Day Sixteen of the trip.