Day 1: Escondido to Mammoth Lakes
I rolled out of my driveway in Escondido at 5:30 AM. I needed to clear the desert before the heat became unbearable. By 7:00 AM, I was pulling into Adelanto as things started warming up. I stripped off my heavy morning layers, filled up the gas tank, and kept moving north on highway 395.
I really enjoy this early stretch of the 395. It’s wide-open desert, and I know I have the Eastern Sierras to look forward to. I’ve done this drive and ride many times now.
Once you get past the main junctions onto the two-lane stretch of the 395, the ride gets a lot easier. Having passing lanes means you can just twist the throttle, get past the slow trucks, and not have to constantly mirror-watch for tailgaters or cars trying to squeeze into your lane.
I made it to Lone Pine by 10:00 AM, and the heat wall hit immediately, after a 45 minute break I headed out. The stretch from Lone Pine to Bishop was brutal, but once I started climbing elevation out of Bishop toward Mammoth, the temperature finally dropped into something comfortable.
First stop in town was Distant Brewing for a much-needed break. I had their signature hazy IPA and a veggie sandwich, which was honestly really good.
Sitting at Distant Brewing, I realized I completely forgot the book I wanted to read, Steinbeck’s Tortilla Flat. I walked across the street to the bookstore next to Annie and I’s Vons to find a replacement. Walking past that Vons brought back a lot of memories. Annie and I stopped at this exact Vons practically every single day during our motorcycle trip here two years ago. That was my first ever big motorcycle trip, back when I was riding the Kawasaki Versys. That was also the trip where the bike broke down and got me stranded in Lone Pine on the way back. Honestly, out of the next 150 miles of open desert, Lone Pine was the best possible place to get stuck.
I couldn’t find Tortilla Flat at the bookstore, so I picked up a different Steinbeck: Travels with Charley. It’s a bit denser, hopefully not too hard to read.
After an hour of resting at the brewery, I headed up to the lakes of Mammoth Lakes. I found a great spot right next to a rushing waterfall that completely drowned out any car or people sounds. I threw up my hammock, kicked back, and just enjoyed the cool mountain air. It felt right.
My body was a little sore and hurting from the long first day, but I knew staying hydrated and resting was better than pushing any further. I ended up finding a campsite a quarter-mile up a dusty dirt forest road just off the Mammoth Scenic Drive. The wind picked up and it got chilly fast. I was wearing my new thin Ketl shirt, which is great for airflow while riding in the heat, but does absolutely nothing to keep you warm once the sun starts going down in the mountains.
I set up my bed, got the hammock up between some big pines (probably Jeffrey pines), and demolished a bag of freeze-dried mac and cheese. The elevation was getting to me a bit, so I made sure to track my hydration, hit the electrolytes, and took some vitamins to head off any altitude issues early.
Right as I was turning in, I checked a side compartment in my bag and found the copy of Tortilla Flat I thought I’d forgotten. I had put it in a “safe” spot and completely tricked myself into thinking it was left at home. I was tired in a good way, ready to sleep, and looking forward to tackling Sonora Pass the next morning. It’s a great little campsite—definitely a spot I want to bring the Subaru back to with Annie and Lexi in the future.
Day 2: Mammoth Lakes to Sonora
I woke up at 5:45 AM to a crisp morning. It wasn’t freezing, which made packing up camp a lot easier. There’s always a specific kind of fun to starting your morning on a dirt road, forces you to be extra alert as soon as you start the bike. A heavy loaded up bike isn’t all that fun in dirt.
Today was all about Sonora Pass. I’ve ridden Tioga and Ebbets before, but I think Sonora might officially be my favorite now. The scenery through the snow-crested mountains is stunning, and the road gets incredibly steep with tight, sharp turns. The bike handled it beautifully. It just chugs along in third gear; whether you’re dropping down to 15 mph for a hair-pin or opening it up to 45 mph, third gear is completely comfortable.
360° photo sphere (interactive): Open the Sonora Pass viewpoint
I stopped at Donnell Vista to stretch and look down at the dam.
I read a sign there explaining how the canyon was carved out by moving glaciers, leaving ancient lava flow rocks sitting on the very tops of the hills where the ice couldn’t reach them. It’s wild to think that all that rich, nutrient-heavy soil carved out of these mountains over the millennia is exactly what ended up washing down to create the entire California Central Valley agricultural layout.
As beautiful as the pass was, dropping down the west side into the city of Sonora brought me right back into a wall of intense heat. I rolled into town around 11:00 AM, starving and baking. I found a coffee shop, grabbed a veggie panini, and just stayed there for two hours reading Tortilla Flat and waiting for my body to cool down. Extreme heat just wipes you out on the motorcycle.
Realizing it wasn’t going to get any cooler outside, I decided to just lay low. I checked into the local heritage inn to get into a cold room, walked to a store for a cold Cherry Coke, and ordered some Chinese food, spicy eggplant and chow mein. It was a short riding day, maybe 150 to 180 miles total, but escaping the sun to recharge was the right call. My plan was to wake up early tomorrow and haul ass to the coast where the weather is actually bearable for the rest of the ride.
Day 3: Sonora to Fort Bragg
I started early again to beat the heat, rolling out for breakfast at 6:00 AM. I didn’t even need a my fleece liner or heavier gloves; at dawn, it was already in the high 60s and felt warm.
The first half of the ride across the Central Valley farmland was surprisingly enjoyable. Some riders find the flat valley miles boring, but it was entirely new territory for me, and I liked the open scale of it.
I rode through Napa Valley for the first time, cruising until I hit Oakville. I stopped at the Oakville Grocery, which has been running since 1881. It’s a cool historic spot. I grabbed a sandwich, a glass bottle of Dr. Pepper made with cane sugar, and hung out for an hour and a half reading a few chapters of my book in the shade.
The second half of the day got hot and rough. I took a turn past Calistoga up into the hills toward Clear Lake because the map labeled it as a top-tier, twisty motorcycle road. That turned out to be a mistake. I hit Bottle Rock Road, and it was horribly maintained. It was just an hour of low-speed, technical frustration, heavy potholes, and uneven pavement. I would have vastly preferred a straight, smooth road over that.
Once I cleared that mess, I hopped onto the 101 through Ukiah to Willits. Willits was still baking at around 90 degrees, but then I took Highway 20 straight to Fort Bragg.
That stretch of Highway 20 is incredible. You watch the environment completely shift from dry, oak-shrub grasslands into deep, shaded redwood forest as you descend toward the ocean. The temperature plummeted into total comfort, and I finally popped out into the cool, overcast coastal air of Fort Bragg.
I checked into the motel, packed light, and walked out to Compass Point on the Fort Bragg bluffs. Standing there listening to the waves crash against the rocks in the overcast air was a massive relief. I threw on my jacket and a beanie, sat on a bench, and just read my book. At one point, I thought I saw a whale breaching far out, but it might have just been the coastal rocks catching the surf. Either way, it was a beautiful spot to unwind after a long, hot day of pavement. I was happy to be cold.
Day 4: Fort Bragg to Eureka
I took a slow morning in Fort Bragg, sleeping in and eating my leftover pizza from the night before for breakfast. I finally rolled out around 8:00 AM, heading up the winding stretch of Highway 1 toward the 101.
It was a beautiful, clear (for the coast) day, but the best part was being completely cloaked in deep shade underneath the giant redwoods and pines. Riding through that canopy is incredible, and the twisties on this section are actually fun—you can lean into the turns and hit the gas a bit on the short straightaways without fighting the road. I even spotted a few deer hanging out right by the shoulder.
I took the scenic detour through the Avenue of the Giants. This is my third or fourth time driving through it, so I didn’t stop much, but that 30-mile stretch under the giant trees and ferns feels like an entirely different ecological system. It’s a stunning place to ride through.
I made it up to Trinidad for lunch, stopping at the exact same state park overlook where Annie and I had lunch three years ago. I bought some hummus from Murphy’s Market and found a nice wooden bench overlooking the ocean. The sound of the water roaring against the rocks is incredibly relaxing. The weather up there was doing that classic coastal thing—warm breeze in the sun, but the second you step into the shade, you immediately need a jacket and a beanie. While sitting there, I noticed an orange-breasted bird nearby, pulled out my California Wildlife Pocket Guide, and confirmed it was an American Robin.
After lunch, I rode into town. I hit up a local gear shop where I found a pair of Teva’s on sale for 50% off, scored them for 45 bucks! My last pair of Teva’s I bought in Eureka, I guess that’s a new tradition. We spent the evening eating Indian food, watching Law & Order: SVU, and hanging out with the dogs, Stella and Hank. It was a solid, lower-mileage day of riding.
Day 5: Eureka (The Zero Day)
Today was a pure rest day. No riding, no packing gear, no rushing around. I just laid in bed, messed around on my phone, and gave my back and body a much-needed break after four straight days in the saddle.
The main event of the day was heading out to the Van Dusen River. We went to a spot called Swimmer’s Delight off Highway 36, the same highway I rode two years ago on the Versys heading to Red Bluff. Pashnit has a great write-up on highway 36. We found a little spot by the water and jumped off a 10-foot rock into the river. The only downside was the massive walls of poison oak everywhere. Charlie was terrified of it. I’m still not entirely sure if I’m immune to it or not, and I definitely wasn’t going to test it on purpose, so I just watched my step.
We spent the rest of the day just chilling out, talking about Charlie’s upcoming move down to San Diego, and catching up. Later, we grabbed some local ice cream in Eureka, finished off the leftover Indian food, and played 10,000, a classic dice game that’s mostly pure luck with a tiny bit of strategy. It’s wild to think this is my fourth year in a row visiting Eureka. It was a perfectly relaxed, night of catching up with good friends.
Day 6: Eureka to Bodega Bay
Leaving Charlie, Vail, and the dogs in the morning brought on a real wave of sadness. It’s always tough to say goodbye to good friends when you’ve had a great couple of days together, but I had to get the bike back on the road and continue the adventure south toward home.
Of course I couldn’t not stop at the Peg House “Never Don’t Stop”. I got one of their 1 pound breakfast burritos to fuel me for the day.
I took the 101 down to the Highway 1 transition, and from there, I was locked onto the coast. The Shoreline Highway down this stretch is beautiful but intense. You are carving right along the edge of the world, miles of tight, winding turns on hundreds of feet of sheer cliff dropping straight into the Pacific, often with absolutely zero guardrails. One wrong move and you’re flying.
About 30 minutes after hopping onto Highway 1, I passed a massive convoy of vintage motorcycles from the 60s, 70s, and 80s heading north toward Leggett. Seeing all those old Nortons and Hondas with their dim yellow headlights, ridden by a bunch of older, incredibly happy folks, was a very cool sight.
I pulled into Bodega Bay and set up camp at Doran Regional Park, a county campground right on the water. It’s a decent little beach spot, though it cost $51 total for the reservation, and then they hit you with a $2 charge in quarters for a 5-minute shower, which is always annoying.
For dinner, I stopped by The Fishtarian and grabbed a veggie sandwich, a small $13 bag of “heirloom” potato chips, and a $7 chocolate chip cookie. The sandwich was great, and the cookie was actually worth the price.
While I was hanging out on the beach reading, a thick, moist coastal fog rolled in, dropping a steady drizzle. That immediately killed my plan to sleep in the hammock, I didn’t want to wake up soaked. I headed back to camp and pitched my brand new tent, the Nemo Hornet OSMO 2-person.
Even though I had never unboxed or pitched this tent before, the old Eagle Scout in me kicked in. I just sorted out the poles and had it up in a couple of minutes without looking at a single instruction. My review of the Nemo Hornet 2P: it is absolutely not a two-person tent. It is a perfect 1.5-person tent, just enough room for one guy and a pile of motorcycle gear, which is exactly what I wanted for moto-camping. I crawled inside and fell asleep to the heavy sound of the waves and a repetitive foghorn blaring out in the bay.
Day 7: Bodega Bay to Santa Cruz
The foghorn kept me up half the night, every time it went off, it sounded exactly like my phone vibrating on the tent floor. I woke up at 5:30 AM to a completely wet, sandy morning. Luckily it wasn’t thick mud, but packing up a wet tent in a steady drizzle is a miserable way to start the day. I didn’t bother relaxing; I just shoved the soaked tent into a plastic bag, geared up, and got out of there.
The first hour and a half of riding through the drizzle from Bodega Bay down toward Mount Tamalpais was stressful. The roads were slick, visibility was low, and I was navigating deer-heavy zones while completely damp. I stopped at a local natural grocery store just north of San Francisco to dry off and grabbed a phenomenal spinach, mushroom, onion, and mozzarella calzone for breakfast, which I ate outside in the rain.
Honestly, I did not enjoy today’s ride. Once I got past San Francisco, hitting places like Half Moon Bay took forever because the traffic was just packed. Navigating heavy, slow-moving coastal crowds while you’re wet completely saps the fun out of a ride. I like motorcycling when it’s just me and the road, not when I’m constantly fighting stop-and-go traffic. I had ambitious plans of pushing all the way to Cambria to camp near Hearst Castle, but by the time I hit Santa Cruz, I just wasn’t feeling it. I was tired, annoyed, and done.
I pulled over at a cliffside lookout, but instead of enjoying the view, I spent the whole time on my phone searching for a place to stay. I decided to call it early. I used some hotel points to score a nice room in Santa Cruz, which saved me from paying the ridiculous $230 weekend rates the local motels were charging.
Once I dropped my gear at the room, my mindset shifted. I walked down to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk to check out the classic roller coaster, and then walked out onto the municipal pier. The pier had partially collapsed a couple of years ago, but it’s fully back up and running now. The underside of the timbers was packed with sea lions barking and carrying on.
Getting out of the rain, eating a real dinner, and watching some TV in a dry room was exactly what I needed. I realized that tomorrow’s run down Big Sur was going to be busy too, but I needed to change my mindset. It’s busy because it’s beautiful, and everyone has a right to be there to see it. Tomorrow, instead of rushing to make miles, I promised myself I’d be intentional, if I get stuck behind a slow car, I’ll just pull over, sit on my camp chair, and enjoy the view.
Day 8: Santa Cruz to Lebec
I rolled out of Santa Cruz and made my first stop in Monterey. I sat down and read a chapter of Steinbeck’s Tortilla Flat right in the town it was written about. It felt like a necessary salute to the author. It’s fun to read the book in the place the characters get into trouble.
From Monterey, I passed the endless artichoke fields of Castroville and Moss Landing, which were packed with coastal birds, and then I finally hit Big Sur.
My mindset shift from yesterday worked perfectly. Big Sur wasn’t even as crowded as I feared, and the ride was absolute perfection. The cliffs are massive, rugged, and honestly a little terrifying on a bike, you can’t go fast because if you blow a turn, you are dropping thousands of feet straight into the ocean. I just took it slow and soaked it in. The coast is lined with these insane, beautiful homes tucked into the cliffs, and I spent a while just stopping at turnouts, watching otters float in the surf below. I even passed a roadside sign advertising “miniature donkey cuddling,” which I noted down because Annie would absolutely love that.
Further down the coast near Cambria, the distinct smell hit me before I even saw them, the massive elephant seal colonies spread out across the beaches. Just past that, near the hills of Hearst Castle, I looked out across the fields next to the highway and spotted a herd of their famous resident zebras in the grass. Seeing wild zebras on a California coastal highway is a trip.
By the time I hit Morro Bay, I had officially ridden the entire premier stretch of Highway 1 from Leggett all the way down to San Luis Obispo. I didn’t need to push into the ugly LA traffic sections of the 1, so I cut inland on Highway 166.
The 166 is a fast, wide-open, completely empty road that lets you just open the throttle and drop some major miles down.
I followed the 166 to Hudson Road and pushed up into Frazier Park, finally pulling into the Vagabond Inn in Lebec. I celebrated my last full night on the road the right way: eating gas-station pizza in my room. Looking back on the week while sitting there, the sheer breadth of the landscapes I covered is mind-blowing. In just eight days, I’ve ridden through high deserts, snow-capped alpine passes, flat inland plains, dense redwood forests, wild rivers, and rugged ocean cliffs. It feels like a lifetime ago that I was sitting in a cold room in Sonora drinking a Cherry Coke. I was tired, sore, and ready to be home with my wife and dog, but incredibly glad I had the opportunity to do this ride.
Day 9: Lebec to Escondido
The final stretch home. I left Lebec and took the I-5 down to Highway 138, cutting east through Big Pines and Little Rock along the back edge of the San Gabriel Mountains. The first 10 miles out of Lebec on the N2 were an unmaintained, rough disaster of a road that wasn’t worth the hassle, but once past that, the asphalt opened up into a beautiful, empty, sweeping high-desert ride.
Right as I was cruising along at 60 mph, a huge hawk on the side of the road got startled by the bike and took off right into my path. It happened in a split second, he flew directly into my leg, and I accidentally kicked him right in the head with my heavy riding boot. I looked in my rearview mirror panicked, but I watched him successfully recover from the daze, catch the air, and fly off into the desert.
Just outside of Little Rock, I pulled over at a roadside stand in the middle of nowhere and bought a fresh fruit cup covered in chamoy and tajín. It was cold, spicy, and easily one of the most satisfying things I ate the entire trip.
The final leg of the trip was a hot, uninspiring sprint down the 15 freeway through San Bernardino and Riverside. A massive wildfire had broken out in the valley near the Redlands area, filling the entire basin with a thick, heavy layer of smoke. I couldn’t see the flames, but the air was dense with ash as I made the final push south.
I pulled into my driveway in Escondido, not exactly thrilled to unpack, but excited to see Annie and get greeted by Lexi. I looked down at my odometer to check the final damage: 2,011 miles total.
The bike ran perfectly the entire time, outside of a few minor scratches I got to do what I bought the bike to do. Ride. It was a long, adventurous, grueling at times, and incredibly successful trip. I got to see old friends, conquer the best roads in California, and clear my head.