My 2014 CB1100 - Ride Report

I took the day off and decided to take the CB out for another ride through the mountains. With most people at work, I had many of the roads to myself - a rarity in Southern California. The weather was perfect - mid-70's at the start and just a bit cooler at the top. I rode at a relaxed, comfortable pace with no worries about having to be anywhere or see anyone. It was fantastic.

Highway 94 has great corners as it winds its way east towards the foothills. The CB turns in so easily and feels so well planted. I'm starting to think these Dunlop's are actually pretty good. Within half an hour of riding, I had horses on one side, cows on the other. Large plots of open land with small farms separated by mom and pop stores selling feed, coffee and pulled pork sandwiches on either side of the nicely paved two-lane road.

At the one hour mark, I make it to the base of Sunrise Highway and Mt. Laguna. Just a couple of cars in front of me but they politely use the turnouts and allow me to pass. The turns on the ride up tend to be wider. You get to hold a nice lean for an extended period of time. Sweeping right, rolling on the throttle, picking her up and then dropping in to a smooth, long left-hander. The CB just doing everything I ask of it wonderfully. What an amazing motorcycle.

To the east of Mt. Laguna lies the Anza Borrego Desert. The view is beautiful at times with the steep sides of the mountain dropping down to the edge of the desert. In the past, I've seen hang gliders riding the thermals coming up off the desert floor and up the side of the mountain. But not today. I stopped at one of the turnouts and took a couple pics of the bike. I tried to capture the desert but my camera just couldn't do the landscape justice. It's something you just have to see in person.

The descent down the opposite side of the mountain is a little faster. The corners are a bit tighter. As I near the bottom, a little more traffic. Still, nothing to complain about. Other people like me, taking advantage of the weather and lack of crowds. Most of them in cars but every now and then, two or three motorcycles pass going the opposite way. We wave at each other and know how good we have it.

At the second hour mark, I roll into Julian with thoughts of apple pie. But it's really crowded. A high school cheer team is walking down the road, the eagle mascot in front, holding the large eagle head under her arm. Two teenage skateboarders with no shirts and long blond hair, looking like they're straight out of the 70's, ride past the cheerleaders and pat each on the head as they pass. Some of the girls laugh. Some of them yell. I'm tempted to pat them on the head as I ride past too. But I don't.

Just off the main street is a gathering of about a dozen sport bikes. All parked in a row. Looking fast even at a stand still. The riders in a variety of leather mingle by the edge of the road. They seem to talk as fast as they ride. Every one of them seems happy. I decide against the apple pie. The road turns west and I follow it. Even HD riders tend to wave in the mountains. I know that won't be the case when I make it back to the coast. I wave at all of them. Except the guy on the Can-Am Spyder with the cute girl behind him. I don't know why I didn't wave to him. I decide that in the future, if the person is wearing a helmet, I'll wave. Maybe not a bicycle helmet but definitely a NASCAR helmet or even a Viking helmet.

Three hours into the ride and I'm close to my neighborhood. I stop at the gas station and fill up. When I get the urge to hit the road again, I'll be ready. I hit the garage door opener inside my chest pocket and pull up next to my lovely, neglected, VFR800. I pop the CB up onto its center stand, take off my gloves, unzip my jacket, undo my chin strap and lift off my helmet. I remove my ear plugs and hear the tink, ping, tink of the engine as she starts to cool. A spray of Plexus and a microfiber towel wipes what remains of a few bugs from the paint and from my helmet.

Before walking into the house I stop and look back at my motorcycles. I stand there for a moment. Not sure what I was thinking. Feeling more than anything. What a great day. Going to get cleaned up and hang out with my son. I need to take Fridays off more often.

 

Sounds like almost as much fun as doing the ride on a VFR.

 

Ha! I suspect you're right.

 

Great write up- thanks!

(I was wondering if anyone used earplugs)