I finished my paltry 4 miles along the coast despite passing blackberry bushes. It was one of those "now I remember why I lived here, what would it take to move back?" moments. A shower, a breakfast, goodbyes and we went south on 101 in the cool fog.
In Eureka we split ways. The Thor's went directly to the campground in Fortuna. Chuck and I went east on 299 to Weaverville, through the Shasta/Trinity national forests. The highway follows the river canyon and is perfectly banked. Not twenty miles from the coast the temperatures had risen significantly and we stopped for a break at a rest area. We chatted with another rider, on a zx10, who was going to Willow Creek for lunch.
Whenever we got on the tail of a car it pulled over to let us pass. Oh why can't all drivers be as courteous? This is a behavior we see all the time in California, sometimes in Oregon and Washington, and never in the midwest.
By the time we reached Weaverville the temperature had climbed to 97F and we stopped to remove layers and rehydrate.
From Weaverville we rode south on 3 to Hayfork. Where 299 was a busy road composed chiefly of sweepers along a river, 3 was a 20 mile stretch of 25mph corners with little traffic, going over a mountan pass. Left right left right left right left right left right left right left right etc... The only drawback was the pavement. It had been recently resurfaced and I didn't entirely trust it and thus took it a slower than usual. Every so often I would see what looked like some leftover gravel in the middle of the lane, but the bike never slipped. This entire area is "twisty mecca". Every car we got behind pulled over to let us pass.
Hwy 36 was going to take us back to Fortuna. More corners... sweepers, tight turns, etc abound as the 70ish mile road follows the Mad River. The western end is a very tight and technical 1.5 lane wide road with no markings. We waited for some construction and a cbr250 pulled in behind us. He got a smoke from the car behind us, demonstrating his death wish. Once past the construction the the cars in front used the turnouts to let us pass and the road went into the coastal redwoods. We increased our pace, yet could not shake the little cbr. Or the car behind him. Or the big ass monster truck hauling an atv. Damn these guys are fast, so we used a turn out to let them pass. The cbr and following car used another pullout to let the truck pass, and that was the last we saw of the truck, as it skittered bounced and swayed through a corner on its oversized balloon tires. Crazy.
California, and to a lessor extent Oregon and Washington, do not drop the speed limits when roads get curvy. They will post recommended speeds, I.e. the yellow 35 or 25 mph signs, but the legal speed limit remains 55 or 65. That means we are maintaining a legal speed most of the time.
It got cold again as we approached the coast so we stopped to add layers. We were getting tired and it was getting dark, requiring us to slow down. We reached the campsite to find my dad and brother and went to the nearby Eel River brewpub for some brews. Their saison was excellent, the ipa not hoppy enough (it was an english style), the porter a little thin, they were out of nitro for the imperial stout, and the old english ale was rich and complex. It was like drinking and old leather couch. It was a great end to a great day!
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