This winter has dragged on, more cold than rain, altho' it seems to come in inconsistent waves. Being retired has its benefits, for sure, but I find myself with heaps of free time, even with my regimen of daily exercise, and working on bikes in the (cold) garage. Dare to dream.

On the 8th or 9th of February, I will swing a leg over the bike and head south and possibly west towards the coast, if snow and ice are forecast. If not, I'll go straight south over the Siskiyou range in southern Oregon. From there, it's into NorCal and away down the valley, at least to the Bay area, before heading to the coast along California's Highway 1, a road I've not ridden in some years, south of San Francisco. That does depend on whether winter storms haven't caused the roadway or bridges to slip into the sea, a relatively frequent occurence.

Highway 5, south of the eastern coast of Baja town of San Felipe, has been being paved through and over the mountains to Highway 1 at Chapala, since early 2020, and has now been fully sealed as of late 2023. In the past it was always a GS or dualsport road, or one for 4WD, and a part of the famed Baja 1000 route. I prefer that route following the coastline along the Gulf of California, over the main north/south highway (1) from Tijuana or Ensenada, where most of the population are. At mid-peninsula San Ignacio, there's a vast salt water bay, appropriately named Bahia de San Ignacio, where Grey Whales (ballinas gris) migrate during the winter months to calf, because it's calm water, and very salty, which allows the 900lb babes to float more easily while they nurse them for the long splash back up the coast to the Arctic.

Tho' this is not my image, I did this back in about 2005 or '06. 

"San Ignacio, ......of sand. Where sorrow laughs and love sighs." On the wall of a B'n'B in San Ignacio. Can any of our Spanish speakers translate "comanance"?

Near La Paz, on the Gulf of California side.

Back then one paid about $20 for a couple of hour boat ride out into the gulf, where baby greys would sidle up to the edge of the boat, the 'piloto' would turn off the motor, and one could rub the wetsuit-like skin of the amazingly gentle creature. As it happened a recently graduated marine biologist was onboard the tour. She narrated, as the local captain had limited English, and there were folk from all over the globe anyway. She explained when I asked where the mother was, "Look overboard on the other side." There, at 20 or so feet down was a 50 foot-long grey floating beneath us. "One hint of distress from her calf and she'll rise." was her warning, said with a smile. It was incredible! Someone back on shore later on said they'd counted nearly 50 adult greys in the bay that day alone.

Highway 1 near Tres Virgenes (Three Virgins, extinct volcanoes) a few kilometres west from Santa Rosalia.

Coastal scene, south of Santa Rosalia, BCS.

Huts and cabins along the beach south of Mulege.

I expect to camp and stop in a 'hotel economico' once in a while. A long-time mate is travelling down by car through Mexico to his home in Nacaragua now, and tells me he's still finding $10 hotels in small coastal towns. I expect the Baja peninsula will be higher on average due to its locale and access for gringos from California, el norte. I am not a resort sort of traveller. Camping on a hammock under a palapa (grass roofed hut) at the water's edge suits me.

South of Mulege on my K1200S back on November of 2005.

A view from a bluff looking south towards La Paz.

I'm obtaining medical and the moto's travel insurance (Baja Bound & GeoGlobe-something or other) now. It's quite reasonable given the inherent dangers of riding in Mexico. I was down there in the northern state of Baja back in 2017, but haven't been back since. Roll on sunshine and warmth!

Empty beaches for miles!

If OR/WA weather is bad and you're looking to make time getting to CA then you can I-5 it to Grants Pass and take The Redwood Highway to Crescent City. That's how I avoid snow in The Siskiyous.

Sometimes that road through to the redwoods from Grants Pass is dark and icy so I head to the coast a bit north of there at Cottage Grove. But, yeah, that's the fast way.

If you've never done 96 from Yreka to Arcata that's a good ride.

Real Academia Española's Diccionario de la lengua española says:

camanance
(I guess the 'o' on your pic instead of an 'a' is a local variation)

Del náhuatl camac 'boca' y nance 'fruto'.
1. m. C. Rica, El Salv., Guat. y Nic.
Hoyuelo que se forma a cada lado de la boca en algunas personas cuando se ríen.

which woulde be
'a dimple that forms on each side of the mouth in some people when they laugh.'

very poetic

sounds like a great project.
Enjoy!

duck wrote:If you've never done 96 from Yreka to Arcata that's a good ride.

I stumbled upon that road back in the late '90s when I was first sniffing around the Pacific NW with an eye to move here, which I did in Spring 2000 after returning from the U.K. When I lived in Portland, 2001 thru 2004, I would ride my girlfriend to Ashland for her yoga retreats, then nick off over the mountains to seek out fun northern Cali roads.

It's one of those roads that urges you to keep going, to see what's round the next twisting, curving, seductive bend. Its equal is CA 139 from Susanville to Adin, heading up to the Oregon border. I rode that route purely by chance (went slightly right in S'ville up the hill rather than straight thru town when the intention was equally nice CA 44 to Shasta) back in October on my way home from Albuquerque, after leaving Alabama and the Barber Vintage Festival.

bad boy wrote:Real Academia Española's Diccionario de la lengua española says:
camanance
(I guess the 'o' on your pic instead of an 'a' is a local variation)
Del náhuatl camac 'boca' y nance 'fruto'.
1. m. C. Rica, El Salv., Guat. y Nic.
Hoyuelo que se forma a cada lado de la boca en algunas personas cuando se ríen.
which woulde be
'a dimple that forms on each side of the mouth in some people when they laugh.'
very poetic
sounds like a great project.
Enjoy!

So, perhaps..."San Ignacio, a dimple of (or in the) sand. Where sorrow laughs and love sighs."

I scoured my sources and came up without joy, my face clearly not forming a dimple of a person laughing. I have begun to practice Espanol again using Duolingo after forgetting quite a lot of the Spanish I knew when I lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico in the late '90s. 

Ta for that.  

The bike is ready. I found a reputable company for temporary insurance for the bike - Baja Bound. Accident/ health insurance is a thornier issue but being researched. Funny, but in my previous travels in Mexico & Central America, I didn't travel with either. I was 'south of the border' for four and a half months on one trip in '96 and never had an incident. The repercussions would have been tremendous for me, but I took my chances. The decisions we make when we're young(er)! 

I have three sets of wheels between two K40 series K bikes. Two black, one silver. All have nearly half worn tyres of various brands. I don't have a favourite brand. Some do their job better than others, but I try them all. I have several sets of used tyres, also @ about 50%, on my garage tyre rack. I reckon I'll cover at least 4,500 miles on the ride and return. None of these will be up for a longer ride than that.

I had an inkling of diverting towards Florida on the return, late February. Daytona Bikeweek is on starting early March. In the late 1980s & through the '90s, I was a committed attendee, when I lived in Massachusetts, and then from New Mexico. I often made the mad dash - due to unpredictable weather - regularly. I'll need tyres with more life. 

I don't work 'in the biz' any longer, having retired end of May last year. I used to be able to obtain Michelin or Metzeler, Continental, and the like($), at dealer cost. No longer. I went for Shinko's Verge 016 2X radials, Korean made. They've made Conti's venerable TKC80 dualsport tyre since its release in 2003. I used them on a K1200RS I bought to flip seven years ago. Time to give their newest incarnation a go. I spooned a set on and balanced them yesterday. They have a relatively heavy carcass, where some effort to bead, are dual compound, have a water friendly system of sipes, and are weight rated appropriately. Time, and distance, will reveal all.

Winter thus far has seen no snow fall in my 'neck of the woods,' but it's been at times very cold for this region, and more than typically wet. Roll on sunshine and warmth.

Sunday morning dawned cloudy but very warm for late January in these here parts. The forecast was for near 60F/15.5c with a 20% chance of rain. Looking at my personal calendar earlier I'd seen that I'd previously recorded the build date of the K1300GT as in Berlin on Wednesday the 28th of January, 2009. Happy 15th Birthday! Let's go for a ride. Time to try the new, zero mile, Shinko tyres.

I checked the air pressure and reset them after the initial inflation, bead seating 45 psi high pressures, to 2.5 bar front and 2.9 bar rear, that's about 36 & 42 psi. I'll increase the front to 38 psi when travelling and loaded up. Geared up, we headed out two-up. A few local neighbourhood roads were still wet & greasy-feeling from the previous night's rain, so we treaded gingerly in light traffic across our suburban town. The I-5 interstate highway is several miles away from home so we got up onto it and blasted down to the state Capitol of Olympia at 75 to 80mph, the usual flow rate of traffic. It began to sprinkle, and we pressed on to a local stop.

Once we'd had a quick, hot cuppa and a nibble at a local café, we headed onto more rural roads, covering about 120 miles over the warming arvo. It eventually began to pour, but the temp rose to 17c/63f. The tyres handled the speeds (I did a short 95mph run), the wet, slimy surfaces, and the more twisty roads with both aplomb, and flexibility. For a 'cheap' tyre they really felt good over the road, confidence inspiring, stable, smooth and without following rain grooves or other irregularities in the bitumen. Time will tell whether they can go the distance of other, major tyre brands.
 
The gear kept the weather out, and we arrived home feeling good about being able to enjoy a quick, mid-winter ride. Now I have to wash the beast, but I'm ready for the run south to the border in eleven days' time.

My daughter lives in Pasadena, California. Yesterday, Thursday, they had about 75mm/3" of rain in one day. That's all of February's average rainfall in one day. While that's not a number to even mention in Queensland, for example, it's significant in the Golden State. To add to it, on Sunday, there's another pineapple express on its way from the north of the state to the south, and is said to be larger, heavier, deeper and wetter. That's quite a lot of territory. The weather seers suggest it'll last through Wednesday, and fall mainly as rain below the mountain pass threshold. Above that, in the Sierra Nevada range and southern Cascades, potentially four feet of white are forecast!

I see a window opening for departure on Thursday the 8th through which I hope to jump. The temps will be above freezing, the sun is s'posed to reappear, the snow will have been blown or ploughed away in the north of the state - hopefully - and there's always the coastal highway, as previously mentioned, if Siskiyou Pass, from Oregon into California, is icy. All the way down the coast of Washington state, Oregon and California to San Francisco, it'll be above 10c/50f for daytime highs, likely just wet.

It's hard not to watch the calendar, and the clock. Wandering alone by road produces a sense of freedom that is increasingly rare. I'm kitted and ready.

Two Wheels Better wrote:Thursday, they had about 75mm/3" of rain in one day. That's all of February's average rainfall in one day. While that's not a number to even mention in Queensland.  

Aye, had that the other day and I'm in the southern part of the state.  It was on the tail end of a cyclone and there is a possibility of a third one soon.  

And like most people here, I have seen a lot more rain than that.  The down side of all that rain means that I can stand in my yard for five minutes and watch the grass grow when the sun comes out.

My wife's mowing the lawn once a week and the hedges need trimming every 2nd week. We have an electric mower and she likes mowing and I'm in charge of the hedges and edges.
Regards Martin.

With all the rain we've had this winter, after the cold snap where it briefly got down to -11c/12f, my lawns came up all green and lovely, and mossy. I am about to have to mow them.

I'll be glad to get away from that crap for a spell. California has been hammered with rain last Thursday and for the past two days. 

My E.T.D. is this coming Friday, a very small window in a very large west coast, but I'm packed and ready to roll.

At 6:25 in the AM it was still dark and about 34° according to Herr Fahrenheit. It hadn't rained in a coupla days so the roads were dry. I had found my window and it was open

207 miles later I was just north of Eugene, Oregon, having found a bit of on and off drizzle, some grey clouds mixed with a splash of blue. I'd braved Portland's peak hour morning traffic - there's only two ways to go - and it was time for a tank of petrol. I settled for gas. Jeez, the place is lovely and green after all the rain.

By 4 o'clock in the arvo I'd made my way to Gold Beach, just north of Brookings on the Oregon coast. The drizzle was intermittent throughout, but instead of just above freezing, it was now 49° F, or a comfortable 9.5 C. I stopped for a bite and a pint, having had nothing since before 'sparrow fart.'

Sparrows fart very early.


Everyone claims their fish 'n' chips are the best. I opted for prawn tacos. The lager was their own and very nice. To quell the cold shakes I sunk a freshly brewed cup of coffee for dessert - I am not a mud drinker, preferring tea, but desperate times call for...you know the rest.

By 5:03 I was in Crescent City California, having covered 497 miles from home. My Garmin Nav V said I'd been moving for 8 hours and somewhere along the way, I'd topped out at 114mph. Musta been while that train of slow-moving cars were holding up the log truck on a long uphill. Log truck drivers must be retired F1 drivers looking for a bit of scenery.

A clean & quiet motel is a good motel. They all look the same. At $41 off season, I was chuffed.

I nurtured a 375ml bottle of Woodford Reserve while watching a coupla 'norvern' Pommie guys who buy and refresh/resell cars, on cable TV in my room. It was 39° F outside as I drifted off. Camping can wait 'til southern California, if it hasn't washed away.

TWB,
So finally we (hoping you take us along) are on the road. Wishing you the best of luck on this adventure.

caveman wrote:TWB,
So finally we (hoping you take us along) are on the road. Wishing you the best of luck on this adventure.

I echo that sentiment…I’m enjoying the ride already…as the rain lashes down on a windy, squally, day in the ‘sowff’ of the UK. Safe travels TWB and keep the reports coming.

Just got myself a new electric roller garage door that makes my garage part of the inside rather than a breezy extension to outside…time to give Heidi a deep makeover and get her back on the road and give Gretel a rest.

Awake a lot last night. The split cycle heater beneath the windows came on and off with such a clatter, even with ear plugs jammed in, I was aware of time passing slowly, and from the glow of the LED clock which eerily lit the room. I burn wood for heat at home. No noise from a whisp of smoke curling gently up a flue pipe.

My route this morning is down through the redwoods, Highway 101 through Eureka, Fontana & Ukiah, then on to Santa Rosa. I hope to visit a long-ago colleague from my days in Massachusetts, the other side of this vast country, when I managed a Subaru workshop. We haven't seen one another since the mid-'90s. He's a muso, an accomplished one at that. But married with a teenager nowadays.

There's a 30% chance of precipitation for later on, with gusts of wind at the coast. I'll be rolling a winding four-lane just in a bit behind the coastal range. 

I note 'gas' prices, which hover just above $4.00 per US gallon for premium in Washington & Oregon, are in the mid to high $6.00 range for the same grade here. 

Welcome to Calithumpia.

As I read your report it takes me in my mind through the  experiences of my own. The first four hours of sleep always comes easy to me but six to seven hours is what it takes for me to be fully rested. Much like the first tank of fuel in the morning but it takes more fuel to make a full days ride.

I actually feel pity for those that never experience the "redwoods" or "coastal range" aboard two wheels.

Roll on TWB.

As you endure winter (or summer, as it is where you are), I'm glad to have you along for the ride. I just needed to get out of the house. 

I packed the mule quietly at 7 o'clock, the cloudy sky still dark. I felt refreshed after a hot shower and looked forward to the second day on the road. It's for me often the first day my head's beginning to clear of what I left behind. I try to put a 'hunnerd' miles between a motel room and brekky. Eureka was my goal.

The highway south of Crescent City follows a wide bay for a coupla miles, waves crashing against rock, then climbs gradually into the tall trees, the ocean dropping from sight as you enter the twisty bits. Its four lanes occasionally become two, with sweeping curves tightening as you round bends at what feels like mere inches from the massive trunks of these coastline sentinels, the redwoods. If the road is damp, and your tyres are still cold, at 5 C/41°F, it behooves (almost a pun) a rider to tread cautiously.

There wasn't much traffic and I had the road to myself for several miles. I gradually wicked it up, feeling for notification from the front end (Duolever, a bit vague on feedback) on whether the Shinko tyres were comparable, or up to the task of other, 'premium' brands. They managed alright. I reckon a good bit of their vagueness is my mistrust of them as yet. As the day wore on I thought of them less and less and leaned on them more and more. Still, something sits back there in the darker recesses of doubt.

Gradually the road descends, massive pavement dips are evidence of future landslips, the damp, rocky coastal cliffs are not the stable slabs we imagine. Multiple roadworks are ongoing. With light traffic I managed a good clip. Eventually you roll out onto a flatter, more farm-like area. As I pass rows of sturdy eucalypts, some rivalling in size the gum trees of my homeland. Apparently, returning gold miners brought them back to the States. Then there was a biologist who envisioned them as a benefit to the ecosystems of various warmer, drier, areas of the world. In fact, they've almost taken over parts of the Iberian peninsula, causing added headaches during fire season, their superheated internal oils exploding into flame, taking out other trees, and making the firies task even more difficult, much like what happens during Aussie's season.

This area, the presence of gum trees notwithstanding, reminds me a lot of the Northern Rivers region of coastal New South Wales, whose sweeping valleys, distant low ridge lines, and large, green agricultural and grazing fields, look similar. Replace the cows with sugarcane and Bob's yer uncle. You probably couldn't grow bananas here either, and there's a dearth of palms, but I'm home for a few passing miles.

First stop, a hot cuppa and a nibble at a café. An hour and a half at speed has passed.

In a few relaxed minutes I'm off again, now entering the area of Highway 101, where its four lanes meander for miles alongside deep rivers, fast flowing, and muddy from the recent heavy rains. Herds of elk layabout off to my left in green pastures, always with a large and seemingly proud but wary bull, dutifully watching over his haram. I'm in and out of the mist, low-lying clouds, often dense enough to limit visibility to a hundred metres. Then comes the blue sky and sunshine again, slanting in through breaks in the towering trees to conjour images of something celestial lighting the traveller's way. I am in Humboldt county, but have in no way yet partaken of this region's herbal spoils. It's still too early. Nudge, wink.

 
The Avenue of the Giants parallels Hwy 101. Easily accessed, it's worth it to slow for a wander through these hallowed copses of remaining redwoods, the last 3 or 4% of what grew here once upon a time. That dense mist I mentioned, it settles into the tops of these 280' tall spires, the pine-like needles absorbing thousands of gallons each day. Talk about simpático. The ocean helps the land.


By early-arvo I'm making contact with an old mate who lives further on down in Santa Rosa. Before heading that way I stop to refuel the bike and myself, a bottle of water and salted cashews to keep my belly light but refreshed. I dislike a large, digesting stomachful whilst riding a distance. It's just a guts ache to distract from the task at hand. Food and proper 'refreshment' comes when parked up of an evening.

We end the day with tapas and German lager surrounded by short palms and busy waiters in the downtown. Later, I am treated to a home-built music studio and observe what happens on mixing boards, now fully computerised, everywhere. The sound is clean and punchy, the interior walls are suspended with brackets supporting rubber, from the structure, the better to isolate noise and vibration from near-by neighbours, in fact, from the very people in the house. In the room above the studio, one cannot hear or feel the music being played at considerable volume directly below.

I haven't seen my former colleague in 27 or 28 years, best guess, tho' we've always kept in touch, but we reconnect, laugh, remind each other of our memories working together, and of the people we worked with. I end a good travel day in their spare bedroom, thinking of the next day's route through or around San Francisco, an hour south. The storied Route 1, along the coast south of the city, past Big Sur and the Hearst Castle, is my plan.


Parked up by palms aplenty, I now know the threat of snow and ice (and perhaps near-freezing temps!) has receded. I'll see and stop in San Diego and the border with viejo México by Sunday arvo!

At this time of year there's little traffic on The Avenue of The Giants so it's a great time to bake on that road.

(If it isn't mossy this year. After rainy months it can sometimes get mossy.)

duck wrote:At this time of year there's little traffic on The Avenue of The Giants so it's a great time to bake on that road.

(If it isn't mossy this year. After rainy months it can sometimes get mossy.)

There was quite a lot of dirt washed across the surface, and it was pretty hard to find solid ground for the side stand due to the muddy ground. But, yeah, it's a great road to rip on. It's 55 mph except passing through the several really small villages along its length.

I managed only 355 miles today. With Hwy 1 closed at Big Sur, and the only sign stating 'No Detour Available' - due to the chronic landslide situation - was as you headed out to the coast from Carmel-by-the-Sea.

Instead, I backtracked along twisting, winding, rutty but brilliant rural road G16 from Carmel Valley to Sycamore Flats, arriving back on Hwy 101 at the farming community of Greenfield for the run south thru Paso Robles, to Pismo Beach, where I am tonight. It's warm, sunny, and the golden orb sinking over the Pacific was a sight to behold. 

I did get to cross the Golden Gate bridge and traverse the backside (Pacific side) neighbourhoods of San Francisco.

And the Marin Headlands looking out to the Pacific. It was a really good riding day of exploring, taking my time, finding some fun roads and enjoying the scenery.

Tomorrow, I'm taking the coast road most of the way to San Diego except for circling round Los Angeles.

Thanks for posting your adventures.  I did that trip through the redwoods back in 2018.  Absolutely mystical, especially since at the time I went through early midweek morning I was alone for most of the ride. 

About that 114mph.  I have found that the Garmin software takes the speed to zero in tunnels and under bridges, and when you come back out into reception, it recalculates the speed from when the signal was lost.  I stopped in a tunnel in Pennsylvania, and when I came out my Nuvi registered a peak of something like 170mph.

Point-Seven-five... wrote:About that 114mph.  I have found that the Garmin software takes the speed to zero in tunnels and under bridges, and when you come back out into reception, it recalculates the speed from when the signal was lost.  I stopped in a tunnel in Pennsylvania, and when I came out my Nuvi registered a peak of something like 170mph.

You might have something there with that theory...I will take note.

I have a habit of looking back at my trips' details on the Nav V, and the newer Nav VI, which is a turd and hardly used. They've never shown anything higher than I've actually ridden. I check out how far I've gone, for how long I rolled, how much time stopped,  & etc. I did an update on the V the day before departure. I made a point to clear trip details prior to leaving because it stores the info from previous rides and rolls it into future trips. When I attached it to its frame between the 'bars, and had a quick look to see if anything was obviously updated, it had randomly recorded a speed of 190mph. I hadn't ridden yet, no tunnels entered.

One time I took it back to OZ and switched it on over the Pacific. Later on I noticed it had recorded over 700mph. That was a shock. I knew we had a headwind going west. 

There ought to be a tunnel or two heading south this morning on 1 & 101 towards L.A.

I woke up at about 1AM and lolled 'til almost 4. Just now, after 7AM I spring awake, remembering I had wanted to be rolling no later than 8 o'clock. That few hours of deep sleep was needed. 

Time to vamos.

This is a rhetorical question, but I wonder if it's a requirement to be a d*ckhead in your Tesla whilst driving on L.A.'s freeways? It used to be Volvo drivers we rubbished for their lack of skill, now it's the ubiquitous Tesla, and they're faster by far than a clapped out Volvo 145 with a baby on board sticker in the back window.

I have landed in slightly more laid back San Diego. Tomorrow morning, the border crossing into Baja takes place at Tecate. From LA traffic war zone to México cartel war zone. Let it roll.

Don't forget Prius drivers doing 55 in the left lane.

duck wrote:Don't forget Prius drivers doing 55 in the left lane.

Strewth! 

No speed faster than 114 shows on the GPS so far. On a bright note, after 23 hours, 59 minutes 'on the move', & 1444.8 miles total so far, according to the Garmin, I have averaged 61.2 mph. That seems high, but numbers don't lie unless GPS coordinates do. I've been cruising between 75 & 80, with the occasional 90 mph stretch for endless hours.

I have made my peace with the Shinkos. They're a boring tyre. By that I mean they're dead-nut stable, not troubled by California's tiny rain grooves or other iregularities in the concrete freeway surfaces. They are quiet. They balanced well (7 grams -1/4 oz - x 2 on each wheel) on my Marc Parnes-style balancer. After barely 1500 miles I can see a slight pattern emerging in the centre of the back tread - the front is still correctly profiled. The edges are 'nurly' from yesterday's lean, mean, get metal bits almost touching riding. But, but, you have to tell them you want to turn in. They are not natural at it. A good tyre should be. I reckon they'll just last the trip, too.

No worries, I've squirreled a discount priced set of Metzeler Roadtec 01 away on my tyre rack for the rest of this year's riding. 

I can smell Mexican food cooking across the boulevard from my tidy room. It's about 68° F, sunny, with a light ocean breeze wafting through the palm fronds outside my louvred windows. A far cry from the just-above-freezing I left four days ago in the Pacific Northwet. I wonder if they have cerveza Pacifico. It goes really well with chile relleno, con arroz y frijoles. 

Subaru drivers are pretty bad, too.  Especially WRX pilots.  Seems like they are always cutting me off as the weave in and out of their lane.

I don't know about your Garmin units, but the Nuvis I get cheap on eBay calculate speed by measuring change in location over a short interval of time measured by an internal clock pulse.  Errors in location are filtered out by averaging a number of position changes.  When the signal is interrupted for a period of time there will be no location change for the clock pulses and the unit holds your last known location as a default.  Thus, the unit records your position as being stationary and your speed as zero.  When you come back out into the signal and your new position is logged as the distance of the tunnel or obstruction from the last location, it looks like you got there in one clock pulse which can be a really fast speed. 

Because the unit averages a large number of readings, things like highway overpasses don't create strange readings as you travel, just longer signal interruptions like tunnels, and even those have to be pretty long to skew the average.  This averaging is why the speed display will often lag the speedometer when you quickly make a large change in speed.

I hope this makes sense.  It used to puzzle me when I would stop at the end of the day on a trip and my peak speed would be something like 115mph on a fully loaded K75 when I knew that I never went more than 102. 

Another thing is that the long term average speed is only calculated for when the GPS unit is powered on.  That means, that unless I switch to battery mode, any time taken at fuel or lunch stops doesn't figure into the daily average speed.

A coupla piccies for now. The Tecate crossing from California was more nerves than actual concern. It was painless and fuss-free, but you know you've entered another country, one that presses with humanity and ramshackleness right up against lightly populated southern California's desert hills.

We are now three days deep in Baja, having crossed into Baja California Sur yesterday arvo after travelling from the NE corner at San Felipe, along the sparsely populated (by fishing campos) east coast on the turquoise-coloured Sea of Cortez. On the smooth but narrow highway we went up over the dry, rugged, jagged and mineral red-orange coloured mountains on newly-sealed Mexico 5, down main Mexico 1, and then across the width of the peninsula through saguaro cactus 'forests' and boulders as big as houses. This area is loaded with salt flats, the mighty Pacific right up against them. 

Laguna Guererro Negro is the pueblo's name despite the land being barren and white. Late today, we're expecting to be in San Ignacio with its 'ancient' by North American standards cathedral, classical architecture, date palms and placid waters.

Necesito dinero 'local'. That would be pesos. A decent lunch costs about 150P ($9), with a refreshing cerveza frio about 55P ($3). A litre of Pemex 'super' @ 91 RON octane is 25.5P (mid-to high US$5 per gallon), more expensive than most the States right now. Turning in $400 cash gave us 6,600P.








The end of each riding day gives time to reflect, and one way to refresh from the 25% humidity is (along with many litres of purified water) a coupla these!

Now those are 3 ‘R’s that I understand….ride, reflect & refresh

Never did understand the school 3 ‘R’s (reading, writing and arithmetic) - no wonder I grew up unable to spell, when 2 of the 3 don’t even start with R.

The impression I get, as I have in the several times I've ridden into México, is of friendliness and curiosity from the people I encounter. An often asked set of questions is ¿De dondé eres? "Where are you from?" &  ¿Adónde vas? "Where are you going?"  My Español is rudimentary but I get by with most people agreeing on a strange mix of half Spanish, half English frases (sentences), palabras (words) apologies & smiles. Estoy aprendiendo Español, and it's fun. There's no truth to the adage of an old dog not learning new tricks.

We did encounter a tragic road accident yesterday which delayed everyone for quite a while. The roads are generally quite narrow and very heavy trucks use them along with locals and turistas. A doble semiremolque rolled off the right hand side into the ditch where there's often no shoulder. The highway was blocked. The Angeles Verdes (Green Angels) and the cops had a large truck flatten a path alongside the highway which anyone who dared could use to bypass the scene. It was one kilometro of deep sand and tall grass flattened. The 1,000 pounds of me, Pamela and the moto had me breaking a sweat as I rolled along at 20 mph with a load of cars and trucks behind me, waiting for my front end to wash out and for us to go tumbling unceremoniously. As I throttled back up to the highway a hundred metres past the wreck, I noticed a crowd of dozens applauding the crazy gringos motocrossing a laden K13 through the sticks. I rolled my left arm in mock feigning of thanks, and revved back to speed, sweating.

We've arrived in the mid-state oasis town of San Ignacio, the river lined with date palms, the town plaza from a time gone by, with towering shade trees, reminiscent of smooth-barked fig trees. It's finally dry desert winter warm at at least 75°F, having been cool since entering the Baja peninsula on Monday morning.

Immediately we found a shady café at ringside, enjoyed a slice of pay de datíl (date pie) and a cup of café, since they had no té negro.

Tomorrow, it's whale tour time in Bahia de San Ignacio, a very salty lagoon an hour away on a gravel road. I rode that road on my K1200S back in 2005 or '06.

A 900lb baby whale scratched its back against the 24' wooden boat a dozen of us were in. It was an extraordinary experience, one I hope to be able to repeat and share with Pamela.

Pictures later. We have found a classic hotel and it's time to park, strip off the riding gear and get into civilian clothes. I'm Jonesing for a cerveza frio and saw a young guy putting out tables at Rancho Grande Bar on my way in.

San Ignacio, BCS, Mèxico. The cathedral towering above town was built in the early 18th century. The indigenous Cochími people disappeared not long after.



I grew up nowhere near a church of any kind, but I surely am haunted by their mysticism, dark arts & history when I walk inside, as though I'm beckoned to enter, but don't belong. The air is thickly dense, but somehow makes me light headed. If I listen closely I hear the screams of generations. I walk back out into light. There are nicely tended citrus trees and cacti growing beautifully, symbolically well tended, in the gardens.


Rancho Rio Grande, a family run restauranté on the edge of the pueblo's plaza, serve an excellent chiles rellenos mariscos, washed down with multiple Indios.


Sometimes a man doesn't need to go too too far to be thankful.

Feliz día de San Valentín.

Yesterday was an attempt at whale touching. We got close! We turned up at Ecotours Yukima in Bahia de San Ignacio, about 65km down a mixed sealed and gravel track from the town of San Ignacio, with hard to avoid washboard aplenty, such that it blew both tail light bulbs, simultaneously. It was at first a dense fog marine layer which lifted to reveal a vast, salt-rimmed bay, where the whales winter over to mate, give birth and feed. 115 individuals were counted on that day's 'census'. Apparently the males have a 2 metre-long appendage, sex lasts 3 to 5 seconds, and are occasionally spotted as the great beasts separate, which the guides cheekily call Pink Floyd.

They will surface directly next to the 12 person open boats. In years past I have had them rub their rubbery, wetsuit-like bodies against the wooden sides of the boat.


The remote facilities are well done, with a cafeteria, bar, baños, scientific research labs and sturdy canvas-like tents if you prefer to stay out there.


The region offers everything from grassy camping under the date palms, guest houses (casa de huespedes), yurts at lakeside, and a range from modest hotels to a bit pretendier, fancier. Of course, as this is remote regional México, some will have non-functional heater/AC units (down to 5°C at night) or no hot water as you're attempting to wash off or wake up from your dusty day. 

We settled on this place for our base from which to explore for our second and third nights in the central state region.

This hotel, La Huerta, is clean, has a very good restaurante and bar, but is on the more expensive side. Let's not pretend that viejo México is an inexpensive place to eat and to stay, almost everything is American tourist prices these days. Twenty years ago a hotel might’ve been $12 to $20. Now they're $65 to $150 per night. Some significantly higher if they offer a view or are beachside. Our little yellow habitacíon, with a good, clean restauranté and bar, came in at $47. The same as paid off-season in Crescent City CA a week ago.

Small waves of bikes, and organised tours, in particular GS and other dualsports, are common. The main roads are sealed, often rough and narrow as described earlier, but you will have to sometimes negotiate deep sand and rocky surfaces off in many directions away from the spine roads. In our hotel last night, a German, a Swiss, and a Peruvian, are all on R1200GS or F850GS bikes, travelling together.

Yesterday, upon needing to refill the tank, we rode out the meandering two kilometres to the main highway to the Pemex, and to search out 1057 tail light bulbs, to discover they had only 87 AKI octane regular. I dribbled $100P worth in, about 4.5 litres, and will fill up with 91 AKI octane 72 kilometres east at Santa Rosalia later today.

Directly across the street from the servo sat a small 'loncheria' with two dozen HD riders, mainly older, having a feed stop. In the lot of the Pemex, two new, all white Policia Nacionál trucks with tubular guards all round, and heavily armed, helmeted, wearing face coverings, federal officers, sat in the shade with their heads pointed towards the bikers. As the motos roared away, so did the Federáles, in the same direction. I thought it prudent not to take my camera out in that moment.

The police and the military are ever-present. It could make one feel intimidated, or safe, depending upon your own feelings. One thing is for sure, cartel related shootings have arrived in the two Baja states from what was once primarily an occurrence on the mainland. We have passed through several military checkpoints as we've ridden south. They're usually staffed by young 'marinos' who are both bored and somehow, at the same time, trying to be tough. It must be difficult being a lad, in a crisp camo uniform, far from home, living in a canvas tent at the roadside, often remote from towns, and having to stop turistas and locals alike.

I have never been asked to tear it all down for a look, except for once back in '96 during the Zapatista uprising in the most southern Mexican state of Chiapas, just above Guatemala.

I have a spare in case of emergencies.

There are moments here when I feel like a drunk, talking to myself, and holding up the bar.


But that never stopped me from having a good jaw ratchet with anyone who'll listen.

I admit to have been drinking far more than I do whilst whiling away the time at home.

The stretch from San Ignacio to the eastern coast, Sea of Cortez stuff, past las Volcans Tres Virgenes, is loaded with cacti and ancient lava flows, and the road, in places, is like the world's longest, straightest rollercoaster. The speed limits are ridiculously low everywhere. The main highways are 80 kph, tops. Every once in a while you come across very faded signage painted on the road surface, indicating it was once as high as 115 kph. To be honest, most drivers ignore the limit. I was occasionally overtaken by other vehicles travelling at 80 or 90 mph while I was sitting on 65 or 70 mph. Once, a federále shot past in a no passing zone at over 100 mph without lights. I have been trying to keep it under 70 mph for the best mileage due to the relatively high price of gasolina aqui (here), and to get some life out of the Shinkos.

Speaking of Shinkos, today I noticed a slight 'walk' from my back tyre, all groove followy and unsure in the bends. I'd not replaced the CR2032 battery in my miniature digital pressure qauge before I left home, and had forgotten where in my kit I'd placed the standard pencil gauge. At the nearest Pemex I found a replacement battery and discovered a back tyre that was soft, and looked like it'd been track-day'd, all bubbly and shredded. 20 psi fully loaded will get that result. Turns out a simple tack had found its way through the main block tread. Out came the Stop'n'Go plug kit and in went a mushroom plug. No psi loss as yet.

There's a lot to like about this place. It's definitely changed in the two-plus decades since I have been riding here. There are now seats on the toilets, and you don't have to pour a gallon of water into the bowl to make it flush. Beer is still cheaper than most elsewhere. Street tacos are everywhere, as is filtered, bottled water. I have only once done the green apple quick step to the loo. Oh, and mobile phones work most of the time, except a long way down the road away from town. WiFi is dodgy, but that expectation is sorta new anyway. But best of all, the people are kind, curious, generous, and seemingly more relaxed than the average western world citizen.

Not many piccies this post. That forsaken WiFi again.

Two Wheels Better wrote:and had forgotten where in my kit I'd placed the standard pencil gauge.

As of yesterday I commented to my wife that I was still using the same pencil gauge that I'd bought about 45 years ago and every time I calibrated it, it was still accurate.

Fair 'nough. 

The diversity of the landscape, and staggering variety of cacti, is incredible.

Cataviña BC is a town built especially for the construction of then-new Mexico 1 highway. Prior to the early '70s the road was random and unsealed for all its 1983 kilometres.

México has its 'Top of the World' scenery, too. There are some serious curves, as though the roads were built for motos. But, heading round a decreasing radius bend you should not be surprised to see a metre wide pothole midcurve, or a car overtaking a slow-moving truck in your lane, blind, or animals, diesel spills, sand, chunks of tyre, & etc. Did I mention the condors/buzzards? They're always circling above. They're on roadkill. They're everywhere! Mexico, it's a thrill a minute. And I love it.

A roadside rest stop with welcoming shade. ¡Bienvenidos!

After a night's stay, Felipé, the owner of this humble 'Inn' at Coyote Bay, on Bahia de Concepción, handed me the keys to the place and said 'Lock up when you leave' as he had errands to run and was driving back to town for a coupla nights for supplies. He showed me how to power down the solar array, close the water system, and generally make the place idle 'til he returned. He books only online or by word of mouth. We found out about him from a café camarero (waiter).

The Santa Rosalia to Mulegé highway. I have since learnt that the occasional white painted road surface signs are not fading former speed limits, but distance to the next town of size. I saw one for 148 km and it twigged. Prior, I had only seen 115 km.

A long-time mate of mine, Santiago, says "The best thing about México is the food." It's a reasonable argument and one in which I mostly agree.

That puncture repair didn't hold, the shard, whatever it was, went in at an angle. I've replugged it but in the end I sourced a can of Fix a Flat and committed the unforgiveable. Also, I opted for CO2 cartridges instead of my dead reliable but much larger Cycle Pump by BestRest - which I 'always' travel with but didn't this time due to space limitations. The cartridge gun failed catastrophically with first use. Another rider at a motel stop had offered me his air pump earlier when I discovered the puncture point. That pair of Shinkos will be shagged by 4,000 miles, tops. 

Fresh yellow fin "atun" anyone? A little known, by me, fact: chucking the entrails that the birds don't eat into a pit dug in beach sand means that tiny flea-like sand creatures will have them gone by next morning. The earth has efficient ways of recycling.

The ride and the road continues, but I will not be reaching Los Cabos. I've met my riding partner's time limit from her part-time job at a uni, and will need to re-tyre much sooner than anticipated. "It only costs a bit more to get quality" said a former boss. Words never rang more true in this instance.

Mt Shasta fully in snow, from I-5....7 hours to go at that stage. It was warm and sunny in SoCal until just north of Redding CA, where it became sunny and cool. It was well above freezing over Siskiyou Pass and the road surface was clear of ice and debris.

The last night in Baja it began to rain by early morning, and was windy and coolish.

El Rosario BC is home to a legendary Baja 1000 checkpoint. Mama Espinoza's has been feeding and housing racing teams - and tourists - since offroad Baja racing began back in the late '60s. The food is good, the bed comfortable, and for once, it didn't cost a lot of dosh.

I'm happy to have made the ride, and it was sad to leave, but it felt good to be headed home after over two weeks away. I made it from the coastal centre of the northern state of Baja California to just outside Tacoma, WA in two days' time - two 12 hour days, 1,458 miles/2346 kilometres. Both the rear tyre and myself are rightly knackered.

Thanks for riding along.

Thank you for having us with you and sharing all these pictures.
This way, I could see and read about places completely unknown to me.

Thanks a lot for sharing your ride with us! I looked forward to the updates. Sounds like a great time.

I'm enjoying your trip mate wish I was there.

Heading back to the barn is always bittersweet for me. After a few thousand miles on the bike, driving a car or truck seems so strange when back home. I’m surprised the Shinto’s made it. 5,000 miles is the most I’ve got out of them.

When I bought the K1200 a new set of tyres came with it and they were Shinkos. I got 6000km from the rear and a few hundred more from the front. They were the worst tyres I have ever had on a motorcycle. 
I fitted a set of Pilot Road and the transformation was staggering.

Reading your reports is rather bittersweet for me.  I had the chance to do a similar trip in 2022, but put it off to help my son work on his house.  The door has closed on any further touring now due to some health issues.  The lesson here is to never ever pass up the opportunity to jump on your bike and go.  You never know what the future will throw at you.

I am surprised at the negative reports on Shinko tires.  I had used the Tourmasters on my K75RT and always got at least 9,000 miles on a rear and 11,000 on a front.  The cost per mile was was significantly better than any other tire that fit my bike.

Point-Seven-five wrote:Reading your reports is rather bittersweet for me.  I had the chance to do a similar trip in 2022, but put it off to help my son work on his house.  The door has closed on any further touring now due to some health issues.  The lesson here is to never ever pass up the opportunity to jump on your bike and go.  You never know what the future will throw at you.

I am surprised at the negative reports on Shinko tires.  I had used the Tourmasters on my K75RT and always got at least 9,000 miles on a rear and 11,000 on a front.  The cost per mile was was significantly better than any other tire that fit my bike.

It's a place I recommend any rider from the rest of North America who needs a dose of third world, but with the usual amenities of comfort (food, fuel, accommodation) right close to home.

The heavily-armed Federales are everywhere in Baja, a visual deterrent at best, as they have been for some time on the mainland. The cartels have moved in to the more remote reaches of the Baja peninsula as well. This is my fourth fifth ride (one drive in my Toyota pickup in early 2005) down there, starting in 2003, 2004, twice in '05 and again in 2006 before returning to Australia for five or six years. I could take a month off from work so I'd go in November. I did briefly flash through the top of Baja heading east towards Arizona back in November of 2017. I did ride through to central America on my old Airhead back in '96, but that was on the mainland all of the way.

The Shinkos you've used are a more traditional bias ply touring tyre, and likely a harder, more durable compound. The Verge 016 2X is a modern radial, but is generally too soft for touring bikes like the 288 kilo/634 lb K1300GT. I knew that. They'd almost go better on the 100 lb less K1200R. I had them already, and thought "Go new, instead of half-worn." I might likely have gone as far on the two other sets of other brand tyres (and wheels) I had available in my garage that were already used. To be fair, I asked a lot of them. 

Days before I left I scored a set of fresh Metzeler Roadtec 01, my favourite heavy weight Metzeler tyre, from my old workplace. They were on the close-out rack because the new parts manager doesn't know Metz and is pushing Dunlop and Michelin. I paid only a few bucks more for them than I did the Shinkos last year. The Shinks were already mounted and balanced. So, on the Metzelers will go. Don't cry for me, Argentina.

Rick G wrote:When I bought the K1200 a new set of tyres came with it and they were Shinkos. I got 6000km from the rear and a few hundred more from the front. They were the worst tyres I have ever had on a motorcycle. I fitted a set of Pilot Road and the transformation was staggering.

The front Shinko has maybe a thousand miles left, the rear is done because it's punctured and plugged, but flattened off. It has 500 miles to go at best. I went over 4,300 miles/6,900 kilometres on this trip. It was never a good handling tyre, tho' once turning it would track beautifully. It just didn't agree to turn in quickly like that bike is capable off with Michelin, Metzeler, Dunlop or the Continentals I've ridden with on it.

caveman wrote:Heading back to the barn is always bittersweet for me. After a few thousand miles on the bike, driving a car or truck seems so strange when back home. I’m surprised the Shinto’s made it. 5,000 miles is the most I’ve got out of them.

I am very glad to be home next to the radiant heat of my woodstove, and home cooking, as the weather turns to a near freezing rain and snow mix for the next several days. A far cry from the near 80 degree (F) down in the lower Baja state.

I love to travel, no doubt, but there's a sweet feeling pulling into my familiar neighbourhood, popping up the garage door and seeing the other bikes all lined up under their covers, waiting for their turn.

I won't buy Shinkos again. I can get nearly twice that distance (on US roads, at least) on Metzeler Roadtec 01, or Michelin Road 5 or Road 6, as well as the excellent but overlooked Dunlop Roadsmart II, III and now IV.

bad boy wrote:Thank you for having us with you and sharing all these pictures.
This way, I could see and read about places completely unknown to me.

I'm very glad you've taken the time to read, enjoyed it, and thanks for responding as well.

davidaryun wrote:Thanks a lot for sharing your ride with us! I looked forward to the updates. Sounds like a great time.

You're most welKcome. I am already planning a return ride for next Winter. Tho' travelling lighter, and on a different bike.

Home a day now, fed and rested, so time to reflect on the trip stats. I checked the mileage on the GPS against the odometre(s) on the bike. That issue with the BMW/Garmin Navigator V recording higher speeds than I thought I'd gone...It never reared its head once again. I did a quick uphill overtake of a queue of slow-moving caravans and semis on I-5 in California that briefly took me to 121 mph and it's there, having wiped out the previous 114 mph pass in central Oregon on the 1st day out. I passed through several tunnels and watched the GPS' potential reactions to losing then regaining a signal. It never wavered. I reckon I just do some mighty overtakes befitting a silken <170 HP, 98 ft/lb, 1293cc road eater. 


The trip riding total was 4198 miles/6756 kilometres, over 17 days. The low temp was 1C/34F, while the high was a comfortable 27C/81F. I recorded a freak peak high of 44 mpg (US 4 quart gallon) and a one-off low of 35, averaging 39 to 41 mpg, mainly. Fuel prices ranged from $4.19 in Washington and Oregon for 91 AKI octane (95 RON octane). California saw $5.79 for a high, then dropped to as low as $5.09 in the southern part. Mexican stations are more than the state owned Pemex nowadays, so VP fuels, Conoco, and the occasional Chevron station have sprung up. But their prices are anywhere from 24.5 pesos to 26.5 per litre. It was something on the order of $5.75 per gallon equivalent, so a bit higher than average Calithumpian prices. One time I had a distance of 198.5 miles between stations. It's not too much of a concern, however, because inevitably in those longish stretches, Enrique or Juan are selling 87 AKI octane 'regular' out of clean, white plastic containers stored in the bed of their pickup trucks at roadside - "Gasolina" signs in small pueblos indicate where. I had to add barely 10 litres of 87 octane only once between San Ignacio and Santa Rosalia to mix with the remaining 2 gallons of 91, enough to get me to the next station selling premium fuel. The peso hovered between 17.05 to 17.17 to the greenback while there. I once turned in $400 US dollars and got back 6,600 pesos. 

I topped the engine oil off only once, buying a sweet Motul-brand multigrade MA2 (wet clutch) in of all places, an Autozone in Santa Rosalia BCS, for the peso equivalent of about US$12.00...that'd be closer to $18.00 in the States around my neighbourhood. I used barely 1/3 of the bottle. I still have the rest and it doesn't need a top off now that I'm home - phenomenal, after the paces I put it through! 

I'll change the engine oil and the oil filter, drain and refill the final drive gear oil, and clean out the stowaway Mexican 'insectos' and road dust in the air filter, tomorrow.

I got no velocity awards from US coppers or the Federales. Aside from the flat tyre, easily repaired - but frustrating that I did not take along my solid old air pump - I blew both tail light bulbs, sorted out at a combination hardware and auto parts store in San Ignacio, I had no other issues with the bike. The ESA suspension worked well in all situations. The tall, clear touring screen that I have went on before the trip because the dark tint, sport screen is too low/narrow, even in its highest position. My arse took a long distance stretch of 189 miles/304 kilometres without a stop. I was usually travelling 140 to 160 miles before filling up and taking a water/rest break. I took along all of my miniaturised camping gear and used it just once. I will not take it along again on future rides in Baja. It added 25+ lbs out back and up high. Accommodation is easily found each night. I did not fully plan my stops, making the quick search for a suitable bed a part of the fun of the road trip each afternoon. I chose poorly only once, paying more than I should for a deluxe room in a good hotel when there were several much better priced, comfortable places in that pueblo. I stayed in them the next night, and often again upon the return ride.

Be prepared for a lot of wind and dust, mammoth potholes, torn up tarmac, oddly irregular speed limits, "topes" (speed bumps on the main highways), almost never a highway shoulder for a quick exit off the tarmac in emergencies, aggressive drivers when out on the open highway, but especially in busy towns. Tail-gators abound down there. I often would just open my left palm wide and hold it towards the back and most of them would back away significantly. I reckoned it was a forgetful inconsideration on their part more than a driving tactic.

As a firm part of North America, often misunderstood, and with often poor media coverage in the US about our large and relatively prosperous southern neighbour, they get a bad rap. Some of it is fair. I learnt from many conversations that in order to finish up that concrete block house for 'la familia' one needed to pay off the next official inspector after the last inspector had taken what the homebuilder had left. You will see unfinished houses out in barren fields by the thousands as you pass, rebar pointing skyward and weeds growing all round, no roof completed, indicating another dream yet unrealised.

Mexicans are open, generally warm, curious people, who ask questions, and offer 'ayuda' (help) readily. I struck up many conversations in my mangled Spanglish, which improved dramatically after the time spent there. I learnt to first apologise for my 'mal' language skill. I lived in New Mexico for five years in the '90s so I knew more than just a bit, and taking Spanish lessons for about six weeks prior on the Duolingo app, and a translator on my phone, made me feel comfortable enough to always give it a go. If you make an effort it is almost always returned. I can't recall anyone being surly or insulting. Sure, there's indifference, but I do not have any expectation that this travelling gringo is going to be regaled and catered for with my pass-through visit.

I figure the coming November, but this time on the K1200R, will be the next chance I get to have another go.

Thanks TWB…I enjoyed your ride and eloquent style of writing. Glad it was a successful, relatively trouble free and enjoyable road trip for you.