Revisiting The Original Wild Ones - The Story

DAY 13
Placerville, CA to Hollister, CA

There are Mondays, and then there are Mondays... This Monday was definitely the latter... When I left the house at the crack ass of dawn, we were in the midst of a torrential downpour and the temperature was about 42 degrees. The pits! My dogs wouldn't even go out in these miserable conditions! They stood in the garage with a look of, "I know you're not serious. We'll crap in the house before we'll walk in the mess..." Of course they went, but it wasn't before a stern talking to and the promise of a treat...

Despite the miserable weather, traffic was only fairly heavy. This is a term not usually associated with Washington DC area traffic. Regardless, I made it to work without incident. As for the work day itself, it turned out to be a good one... Got a ton done, talked to a dude who spotted a couple of riding pictures on my desk about Harleys and of course, the ride, and ultimately left the office on a high note having booked a nice piece of business... In my profession, what Scotty would call a "Snake Oil Salesman", closing business is a seldom occurance... But any dedicated sales guy would tell you that... Whatever it takes to keep the bike on the road!

Still though, the highlight of the day were the pictures I received from Rigid and Overtime; the two posing outside of Johnny's Bar in famed Hollister, CA!

For those of you who don't know, this place is largely considered the birthplace of the modern day biker. Over the July 4th weekend in 1947, motorcyclists from near and far converged on this tiny town in Central California and, according to local law enforcement and creative journalists, "trashed the place". Hardly the case as told by the many attendees of the Hollister "Riots"... Never the less, for reasons I won't go into, Hollister is a place sacred to me and many of my riding Brothers and Sisters on the road today...

With that, I give you Scotty and Rigid's accounts of the days ride down the California hill country into the famous one horse town of Hollister, CA.

As always, a slide show follows the entry... Enjoy!

"Sunday (Mother’s Day) May 11, 2008
Placerville CA to Hollister CA.
Only 261 miles.
Total: 4978 miles

A ride I'm calling the Hadj to Hollister and the rest of the dragon.

>>"Hadj" - The fifth pillar of the Boozefighters Motorcycle Club is a pilgrimage to Hollister. At least once in a lifetime a Boozefighter is expected to make a journey to Hollister and Johnny’s Bar. For a Boozefighter the hadj is the ultimate journey/destination.

>>"The Tail of the Dragon” – a motorcycle ride stretching from Deals Gap, TN into NC with 318 turns in 11 miles.

OK, OK, it might not be politically, historically, or grammatically correct, but it does have a ring to it. Apologies to anyone who might be offended by the paraphrase.
Highway 49 South out of Placerville is a rider’s ride. Scenic in its own right with nice twisting roads through the foothills of the Sierras, lined with over-hanging live oaks and vistas of the ranching country of middle CA.
We passed through Calaveras County of Mark Twain fame, just one week before the famous "Jumping Frog Jubilee". Local rumor has it, at the post frog jumping contest awards banquet where the main course is – you guessed it – fried frog legs, the only frog present is actually the winner. The losers are nowhere to be found.
Around Moccasin CA, about 40 miles south of Placerville - HOLY SHIT! What the #!%@&*^&<^ ??????????
It seems we inadvertently stumbled upon the left coast's missing body parts of The Tail of the Dragon; head, neck, tongue, teeth, toes, torso, legs, pelvis, and all of its ancestors, aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces, brothers, sisters, and illegitimate offspring. OH MY GAWD!

For the next 36 miles we were never out of first or second gear (except for a couple of short straights where we got into third gear, only to dive into a 5mph right 170 degree turn followed by a blind climbing 179 degree turn to the left – you get the idea). Elevations varied +/- 2000’ with vertical cliffs on one side and severe drop offs on the other – and no shoulders. Not to mention 1 ton dually trucks pulling horse/cattle trailers coming from the opposite direction. They took up both lanes on the inside corners, but at least we could see them coming. We (at least I) was thinking of how to turn around, but there was simply no safe place to do so. We were committed! Near the end (near Bear Springs, which we didn’t know at the time), at the first available turn out, where we had pulled over for a sanity check, we ran across a local who told us we were basically finished. We were mentally and physically exhausted from horsing those top heavy Harley’s around.
Hands were cramped and shoulders were aching. But no love bugs.
It just doesn’t get any better. Maybe that explains the long day/short miles thing.

But wait! There’s more.
After descending into the valley (San Fernando or Joaquin?) and intercepting Highway 140, we made it to Merced which apparently is known for the city with the most unsynchronized stoplights per capita.

Also, it seems Katrina made a stop here and swiped all of the Hwy. 140 signs.
During the impromptu tour, I noticed an inordinate number of grown men riding children’s bicycles – very weird. Maybe something Stephen King should look into.
Just outside Merced (finally) – wait for it, here it comes. You guessed it – WIND like we had not experienced to date. Not to mention that there are approximately 2 trees in a 50 mile radius around Merced to serve as wind blocks.

The local economy is centered on farming and the raising of cows/pigs/horses/goats/sheep/chickens – all of which produce some form of by-products, one of which is methane. When the collective aromas of these by-products and that of the fertilizer necessary for the feed crops is gathered by said wind and focused on itinerant biker scum, the eyes start to water, the nose runs, and a gag reflex kicks in.

Picking up route 156 into Hollister (4 lanes, divided, thank God), the wind was so bad that we had to slow in order to allow all the others vehicles pass as we were frequently being blown across two lanes of traffic by extremely strong gusts – not fun. Additionally the temperature started another nose dive into the long underwear zone.
Arriving in Hollister, we searched for the city limits sign under which we hoped to take some pictures, but apparently Katrina made a swing through here also.
Next stop, the biker’s Holy Grail, Johnny’s Bar, the birthplace of the American bike culture.
Of course, it was closed.
Tomorrow; Breakfast at Johnny’s (yes, they do advertise that they are open for breakfast) and then, who knows.
Our goal is to get to Drew’s no later than Tuesday afternoon.
We might have to alter that plan to arrive sooner if Drew or Jen are unable to meet the delivery of Shane and Nelson’s bikes, which is scheduled for either Monday or Tuesday."