Day 3, 5/20/06: Fortuna, CA to Fortuna, CA
290 miles
Click here for the route map.
or start with Day 1 here.

The previous night, before heading to bed, Colleen had suggested that if I get a chance, I should make sure to check out Hwy 36 for a day-ride today. At breakfast I attached myself to a small group that was heading out for a ride along a fairly short loop including Hwy 36. The riders were Jim (TheExplorer) on a Yamaha FZ1, Cynthia (KitKite) on a tiny Honda Interceptor 250, Mitchell (Endo), and his son Devon, whose rides I've forgotten. Cynthia's daughter Gabie also came along, riding pillion behind Jim, as I guess the FZ1 has about a hundred horsepower more than the Interceptor.

(and as long as I'm posting horrible headshots of everyone I ride with, here's one of your humble narrator that was taken on this trip. Enjoy.)

We set out immediately after breakfast, which for me consisted of a package of horrible chocolate donuts from an AM/PM, since I missed the crowd at Denny's. Hwy 36 joins the 101 just south of Fortuna, and almost instantly gets interesting. At first it's a fairly slow jaunt through a couple of little towns, but then the road dips down into the redwood forests and the turns start coming thick and fast. Big trees literally sit right on the shoulder of the road, and the air is thick with the scent of wilderness, wet loam and moss and pine needles. The road is pretty empty, and our group immediately started to spread out. I generally found my comfortable spot to be third, behind Jim and Devon, who rides with the easy confidence of youth and insisted on tossing little power wheelies in on a regular basis. The pace was great.

In short, Hwy 36 is the best proof I've yet seen that there is a God and he wants us to be happy. Apparently, he wants us to earn it, though. As you head east on Hwy 36, the road gets more and more technical, rising up out of the lowland redwoods and into more hilly country. There are sections of this road where it falls to a single lane, twisting maddeningly around blind corners, and a number of times I'd come out of a corner to find an SUV bearing down on me, smack in the middle of the road, or a collection of fist-sized rocks from the latest slide spread across my line. Hwy 36 leaves no time for a wandering mind.

One of the pucker-moments on this trip came today, and surprisingly it had nothing to do with what I've mentioned above. It was early in the day, in the western section of 36; I got momentarily distracted entering a turn by the rider behind me, who was closer than I remembered although certainly not dangerously so, and I braked too little and too late for my comfort. I'm sure that I could have pulled through the turn if I'd really leaned through it, but for whatever reason, I lost my nerve completely, stood the bike up and braked hard, down to some stupidly low speed. I'd looked through my line first, and I knew I had space to stand up and brake, but all the same it ruined the flow of the curves, and if the rider behind hadn't been on top of his game, there could have been a real problem. A good illustration of the dangers of group riding. I need to be very clear, here, that I place no blame on anyone but myself; I made a stupid mistake, and I was lucky that it didn't bite me in the ass.

Jim, Devon, and my bikes on Hwy 36:

Zoë at the highest point on western Hwy 36:

Lunch was at a hole-in-the-wall restaraunt called The Nugget, in Weaverville, and it wasn't great, but there's something about riding that's similar to backpacking in this regard: less-than-stellar food tastes better than it would if you've just cruised up in your car. I guess it's because you've a feeling that you've somehow earned it. In any case, we finished this ride up by returning to Hwy 299 via Hwy 3, and then back into Fortuna the same way I'd come yesterday. It rained most of the day, of course; I was soaked through, so I stopped by Dr. Gil's to put my one pair of pants in the dryer for an hour and give my lovely fiance a call. Then it was back to the brewery for more beer and burgers, followed by another restful night on Dr. Gil's guest cot.