By Ethan Wood
The summer of 2021 was a big summer for the entire world. Travel had started to open up and people were able to have summer vacation again, finally. I looked forward to my own summer trip with my dad starting early August. A 2900 mile motorcycle trip at 16 years old.
We set out from Ouray, my dad on his Triumph 1200 scrambler, and me on his BMW RnineT Urban GS scrambler. The trip would be eleven days long, through the corners of Utah and Wyoming. We would then cross Idaho and Oregon and make our way down Highways 101 and 1, ending our journey in San Marcos, California, just north of San Diego.
After a beautiful mountain pass outside of Fruita, we skimmed towards the Utah border, stopping in Dinosaur and conversing with an old man who told us about his experience riding Triumphs when he was young. Once we finally made it to Vernal, we unloaded the bikes and went to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. A torrential downpour soaked us as we rode back to the hotel.
The next destination was Pocatello, Idaho. This day was one of the most difficult days, not because of the distance but because of more weather. Heavy headwinds welcomed us on the Wyoming freeway. Then over a small mountain pass, it snowed. Hard. We then experienced ten miles of loose, muddy dirt roads. We reached Vernal cold and tired, and very, very wet.
The next day was the first that we hit our average mileage of over 300 miles per day. After making it to Ontario we started our journey across Oregon, or what I like to call “Perpetual Autumn.” After stopping in Twin Sisters, Oregon, we made our way to Corvallis where my father and I spent a full day helping my eldest sister move from one college apartment to another.
After a day or two, we crossed into cold, dark Northern California. After slow, uneventful riding through North California, we found the fun roads. We weaved our way through redwoods and drove down the Avenue of the Giants.
After driving through a redwood tree we headed down Highway 1, super winding forest roads that any motorist would be lucky to drive. We wove back and forth, changing gears and getting low to ground on each turn. It was heaven for any rider. Finally, the forest opened up and we saw the great Pacific Ocean with its soft, smooth waves rolling onto rocky beaches.
Down the 1 we drove, taking in the cool fresh ocean air and the warm sun. Winding cliff roads wound along the most beautiful terrain in the world, through small seaside towns that I had heard of. As the sun was starting to get low in the sky we crossed the Golden Gate and got ready for a colder drive to Santa Cruz. But before we could go there I told my dad we had to check something off of my bucket list: Mavericks.
Mavericks, in Half Moon Bay, is the home of one of the most dangerous surfing waves in the world. Even just seeing the infamous “Satellites” on the hill in front of the wave, knowing that Mavericks and its rocks and sharks would soon be raging just beyond… it was like being near a monster from the Odyssey. I could hardly contain my giddiness.
With the sun setting to our right, we drove through the cold dusk to Santa Cruz. We admired three choppers with very long forks as we zipped past them.
One section that I was really psyched for was riding past Big Sur; however, the marine layer (a dense mass of cool, moist air which accumulates over the surface of large bodies of water, especially oceans) was so thick that we were unable to see it. But we did hear it and got to drive through some of the most beautiful parts of California. It was just a little nippy.
One section that I was really psyched for was riding past Big Sur; however, the marine layer (a dense mass of cool, moist air which accumulates over the surface of large bodies of water, especially oceans) was so thick that we were unable to see it. But we did hear it and got to drive through some of the most beautiful parts of California. It was just a little nippy.
The final stretch was to San Marcos where my grandparents live. This day consisted of riding down through Malibu and getting coated in sod from the bed of a truck, and through Los Angeles and down the 5 towards Oceanside and Carlsbad before heading inland to San Marcos. We stopped at In and Out Burger for the first time since getting into California. (That is unheard of: my family never goes more than an hour or two in Cali without getting In and Out.)
Our trip finally came to an end after eleven days of riding. We then spent a couple of days in SoCal before driving home with my mom and sister who had met us there.
This experience brought out so many amazing feelings in my life. The feeling of winding along the warm California coast while Gretta Van Fleet blasted in my headphones. The wind flapping against my helmet as I passed lines of cars on the back roads of Oregon and Idaho, or the minor fear of lane splitting through Southern California traffic. Would I do it again? No, probably not. My butt hurt, my hands hurt, and I was windblown and exhausted.
But man, it was an amazing experience.
But man, it was an amazing experience.