Welcome to Big Sur

The next leg focused on one of the great US motorcycle rides:  Big Sur.  I left San Simeon in the morning after a questionable Motel 6 Breakfast Buffet.  You can be jealous about the trip, but that breakfast was truly awful.  There is always a price, people!  I passed beaches full of Elephant Seals as I cruised north from San Simeon.  There were just piles of them on the beach.  The road is pleasant - lots of rolling hills and gentle curves.  This changes when you hit Ragged Point.  You climb into the bluffs and it is steep grades, hairpin turns and epic cliff faces.

Welcome indeed

Ragged Point is the semi-official beginning of the Big Sur region.  They even have a sign!  There is one gas pump running $5.50 a gallon, a small convenience store and a lodge.  It is a great place to stop and the LAST place to get gas for about 90 miles.  Watch out for the 'mileage until the next town' signs - they are bald faced lies.  Ragged Point is listed at 12 miles from San Simeon and by my odometer was closer to 25.  I picked up a snack, Red Bull and $11 worth of gas.  Gotta love that!  

Riding on the knife's edge of the world

The skies were clear right up until Ragged Point and you rode right into the mist.  It was absolutely beautiful.  The mist was light enough that it didn't inhibit visibility, but gave everything a very eerie sheen.  When you rode above the bluffs it felt as though you were riding on the edge of the world.  Surprisingly, traffic was very light.  The Big Sur area is about 90-100 miles in length and I had open road for about 30 miles of that.  

The road wound up and down the bluffs and as the day progressed the mist burned off and it turned into a gorgeous, sunny day.

The view down the bluffs

The surroundings were almost overwhelming.  What do you stop to take pictures of when everything is deserving?  Even the highway was deserving of attention.  Whatever you have to say about California, they take very good care of the roads.  There was perfect, unblemished asphalt nearly the entire length of the state.  And then I hit Oregon.  Oregon sucks.

Just another immaculate view

After Big Sur I cruised through Monterey on the way to see my old friend Caroline!  It had been about five years since we last connected and it was great to catch up.  Caroline is in Gilroy, the Garlic Capitol of the World.  Which is also near the Artichoke Capitol of the World.  I have now seen an artichoke growing.  It is pretty nifty looking.

When asked what there is to do in Gilroy, Caroline replied "Well, there is the Garlic Festival.  But it isn't happening now."  End of conversation.  It was very hot in town, but I was impressed with Gilroy.  On this ride there are so many small towns that are failing or turning into McTown.  Gilroy has its share of Corporate Entities (Outlet Malls, anyone?) but at the same time, it has a fairly thriving downtown filled with locally owned businesses.  How many agricultural towns can you think of with a Main Street area with more real estate full than empty?

See?  Even the road is pretty!

Even more importantly than being a thriving bastion of agricultural bliss, Gilroy has an In and Out Burger.  Somehow I managed to stop in the only towns in California that don't have an In and Out.  It is a curse.  "Aren't there In and Outs in San Diego?" you ask?  Well, I cooked a couple of nights, Liz cooked a couple of nights, we had fish tacos a couple of nights, and all of a sudden I didn't go to In and Out.  Trust me, I would rather have Chicken Paprikash with Dumplings than In and Out.  It is that good.

Caroline was kind enough to take me to the In and Out in Gilroy.  She was shocked that I didn't have more than one burger, but I finished my fries and her fries, so don't feel too bad for me.  I did not get a Strawberry Shake though.  I watched the Shake Machine blow up while I was in line and there was no saving that thing.  I tried to order one anyway, but no dice.  The whole time I was inhaling food Caroline was trying to convince me that In and Out isn't THAT good.  Well you know what Caroline, you have one and I don't.  You are spoiled.  That's like me whining about the beach because it is too windy.  Which I do.  Spoiled.

Mine.  Get your own.