Two Up And Away

Last Saturday I decided to get out for a much needed ride after a particularly disastrous week at work. The weather was right and I had finally talked my wife into joining me on this trek. We had arranged to meet up with a few friends that morning and follow them up to a quaint little place called the Mountain House Cafe in the middle of nowhere. We left around 9:30am and headed north to our rendevoux point (a fill up station) where we could top off the fuel tank before really setting out.

It was a beautiful day out and I quickly found my cares of the previous week melting away. The KTM Superduke is normally such a nimble bike but riding two up proved to be a real chore. My wife is an experienced passenger but even so, I felt like I was riding with an elephant on my back. I was fascinated by how much the characteristics of a motorcycle change as the weight on the frame increases. Everything becomes very diliberate and planned; not at all like usual where a turn feels like it just almost happens on it's own. Now then, my wife is a light weight and I've ridden two up before (many times in fact) and always noticed the difference but never quite so much as on the Superduke; it's really in your face. The day ahead proved to be more challenging than I had planned or even imagined.

After fueling up, we headed north up Highway 245 into and out of the town of Woodlake. It's a small farming community (as are most of the towns around here) and is probably most famous for it's annual rodeo. Highway 245 is one mile after another with very few if any straight lines and is locally known as one of the best roads to ride if you're looking for a challenge that'll drop you into some of the most beautiful scenery that can be found in central California. Heading into my first tight turn I soon realized I hadn't fully adjusted for the extra weight and ended up just outside my lane and was instantly angry with myself for having done so. A total rookie mistake and no amount of additional lean was going to correct it. That was a harsh reminder of how prepared a rider always needs to be. I wasn't planning, I was sight seeing which can be ok if you're taking a leisurely jaunt but that day was more about exercising my demons from the previous week. I was reminded of how my mother used to tell me to put my thinking cap on and coming out of that turn, I did just that.

We rode for about 30 miles or so before arriving at destination número UNO: the Mountain House Cafe. There were about ten other bikes (no cars) already parked outside. Walking in through the door, I was greeted by a long narrow dining room with a bar on the left and tall tables on the right. A very nostalgic place indeed and almost certainly designed with it's biker clientele in mind. Walking through to the rear we passed through a room with pool tables on our way out to the patio area. Good music was playing and the smell of bacon and sizzling beef was in the air. Service seemed unusually slow and the iced tea was about seven days past it's due date but they quickly rectified that and served up one of the best bacon cheeseburgers I'd had in a long time. The four of us sat, talked, and enjoyed the weather, food, and a really cool dog named Harold that stopped by to say hi.

Some ninety minutes later, we were back at it and heading still farther north to Highway 180 where we would turn east in search of Kings Canyon national park. It wasn't long before we were winding our way through the park; our excitement and momentum occasionally spoiled by the random looky-loo out sight seeing for the day. We in fact could have been accused of such at one point when off to the right of us in a meadow, we caught a glimpse of a black bear rooting around in a hollowed out tree trunk. We stopped near the crest of the canyon to grab some hot chocolate and a long sleeved shirt. There was still a fair amount of snow on the ground and seeing as how I had zipped my jacket liner out that morning, I was getting a little chilly from the 40 degree air slicing through my mesh riding jacket. Another sixty minutes spent jawing on about this and that and we were back at it.

Taking the turn off to Highway 198, we were soon greeted by a long wait at a light. Apparently, the majority of the highway was under construction and was down to one lane. Not only that, once traffic actually did start moving, it was near torture trying to negotiate through sand, gravel, potholes, and frequent ruts while keeping it to barely over five miles per hour. Quite literally the longest ten miles of my life. It was no fun at all with the bike flexing and sputtering, engine getting hot, and the additional weight, it all had me working much harder than I would have liked but I learned a great deal through it all. It tested skills I hadn't used in a while and forced me out of my comfort zone several times. I wrapped up that journey with a renewed commitment to practice the hard stuff more often.

Finally down the southeast side of the canyon, the weather had turned warm. We stopped for a quick breather before heading down into the little town of Three Rivers. A great little place on Highway 198 that offers some flavor as well as a great candy and ice cream shop. We stopped and talked to a few gents out for a ride on a quest for ice cream. They hailed from farther west than us but it didn't matter. That day we were friends with motorcycles in common. The day was coming to a close as the sun was now setting ahead of us. We decided to part company and go our respective ways but not before carving up the last of the twisties highway 198 had to offer. It was a fantastic day with good friends new and old and a lot a interesting characters along the way and I was a better rider for having done it.