Mid-Week Rides: Mist on Fremont Peak
Thursday, Apr 4, 2013
Six appeared for breakfast and the patchy blue sky with rainbow. Dick Zunkel, Bill Grass, Dave Emmet, Paul Hampton, Randy Hendricks and Chris Weld. All but Bill did the ‘planned ride’. There was no rain experienced between Bobbie’s and San Juan Bautista and Brother Zunkel did it in jeans. However, from downtown San Juan Bautista (proper spelling mind you…) and the 3K peak of Fremont Mountian. there were low clouds. Dick finally donned some rain gear. The countryside was beautiful though distant views were out of the question. Gravel patches en-route to the peak kept everyone alert. When all arrived at the parking lot below the peak there was no evidenced enthusiasm to climb to the top, a really steep trek to see what?
We rode down the mountain and turned for Salinas on the San Juan-Salinas Road. This road, originally concrete slab, was built circa 1920, repaved in (I’m guessing here), ‘35 and ignored ever since. At the Monterey County line the pavement became smooth asphalt. We paused along here and it was suggested a sandwich/rest stop in Correlitos was a good idea. GPS took us hinder and yon on a lot of short scenic roads before a shot into downtown Wastsonville and a turn onto Freedom Blvd for a road to Correlitos. Brother Hampton expressed a need to stop at Ted Porter’s Beemer Shop in Scotts Valley and Scotts Valley was programmed into the GPS (or so one thought!). We were directed up Brown’s Valley, onto Hazel Dell but that didn’t sit well with the GPS operator who programmed ‘Scotts Valley’. It was during this delightful ‘detour’ that the GPS was checked and found to be directing us to some coordinates for something, but not Scotts Valley. GPS was re-directed and we skirted Correlitos for CA Hwy#1 - this for Hwy#17.
Dave Emmet had previously announced he wasn’t
stopping at Porter’s Shop and left us while ‘lost’ on the big circle
around Correlitos. Randy Hendricks waved g’day in Santa Cruz and stayed
on Hwy 1. Porter found a way into Hampton’s pocket while Dick’n me
(Chris), just drooled over the farkles that adorned the walls. We all
left Porter’s shop and headed over Hwy #17, splitting up at Hwy# 85.
Great ride with a really great bunch of REAL motorcyclists.