The ride to Death Valley was to begin just east of Visalia, so Cathy and I made our plans to ride down Friday afternoon. Our 3:00 P.M. departure time set the pace for the rest of the weekend. Even hoofing it down I-5 it was still a bit after dark by time we got to Visalia. Fortunately the days are getting longer and so it wasn't so dark that we couldn't locate a motel. Yeah, I said motel! It's February and technically winter and I felt no guilt about motelling it and just a teensy bit like a wimp. But spotting the Oak Tree motel just off the freeway near Visalia's main drag we were unloading the bike when Max Jacobson pulled in. He had the room two doors away.
Bob Love seems to be vying with Don Allison for who can find the best breakfast places and the hints had been that Saturday morning's rendezvous was going to be a winner. That is if I could get Cathy out of bed early enough. Not normally being exposed to the finer points of motels when riding, here is a tip I was pleased to learn. The motels much prefer for you to ask them for rags rather than use their towels for cleaning your windshield - and as you know a windshield the size of mine requires a lot of cleaning. It seems that they have a supply of previously used towels that are most suitable for the purpose. And finally Cathy was awake and we were on the road - it was one chilly road at 8:00 in the A.M. We made it out to the Loading Chute restaurant in Woodlake about ten minutes before Bob announced that he was leaving.
This was a small Central Valley town establishment and fast wasn't part of their lingua. But neither could the tour captain exercise much influence over the line for the one toilet. So Cathy and I were able to order and get our breakfast in less than 15 minutes to the amazement of those who preceded us and who had waited for 4 times as long. Even so Bob was able to move the tour on down the road leaving Cathy and me to polish off our meal and push on to catch up. For such an "informal tour" - Bob's words - it was well turned out with something between 15 and 20 bikes and we caught up with the first sub group in about 30 miles.
The goal was to reach Death Valley via Lake Isabella and Walker Pass. The route was Hwy. 65 to State J22, which is a pleasantly twisty road, up to where it joins Hwy. 155, then the north side of Lake Isabella to Kernville to meet up with 178 and cross Walker Pass down to Ridgecrest before following Hwy. 178 into Death Valley National Park. That was the plan. But once again the fickle finger of fate was to intervene as Kernville was having a parade. I'm sure all of you have heard tale of the last parade a NorCal tour drove into. Unfortunately, this time we were going counter to the direction of the parade and hence weren't invited to join in. But it did result in Bob Love setting a new record for the number of u-turns, four, taken by a tour captain on a regular tour. So I gladly surrender my u-turn laurels to Bob Love.
I mentioned the "fickle finger of fate" and on this tour we did lose one rider, a first timer Uwe Stradler, to the misfortune of a rather nasty spill. Just on the east side of Greenhorn Summit, heading down toward Lake Isabella, Uwe went wide on a left hand turn, got onto the shoulder and into a small ditch. His R100GS dug down into the soft dirt and flipped him off before doing a somersault. Uwe was able to walk away from the incident and when Cathy and I came by a few minutes later Bill Jarvis, Steve Kesinger and Mark Edwards were already helping him to sort out the damage to his bike. There was some plastic damage but most concerning was that the forks were obviously awry and the front brakes were non-operational. Plans were made to call ahead to Bakersfield BMW and have a tow truck sent to retrieve the bike when Ray Hutchins and Lee Wolfe came by. Cathy and I went on ahead to tell the tour to continue while Ray and Lee lent Uwe a hand. I later understand the Uwe was able to ride the bike home even though it had only one cylinder operational and the steering was rather difficult. I'm sure we all hope that Uwe can come out and ride with us again. He seemed more distressed by missing Death Valley than anything else.
After that we were all a bit more cautious, especially through Kernville with its parade and attending CHP. By now Cathy and I were officially part of the pack, albeit at the back. Lunch was at the Central Café in Ridgecrest, a newly designated private club so that its patrons can continued their tradition of inhaling nicotine.
The final stretch into Furnace Creek Campground saw the tour split again as some of the more rugged individuals chose to take Wildrose road across Emigrant Pass while us strictly road folks took the tamer Panamint Valley road. Still with stops and all we made it into camp by 4 P.M. to find the place literally packed with motorcycles, especially BMW's as the Airheads were also camping in Furnace Creek.
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