Bass Lake Quickie

I had been wanting to make this run for a couple of years now; heck, since I got back on a bike in ’07 – it’s a ride I’d done several times on my old Honda CB500. Bass Lake is where my mom was raised and where our family had spent many wonderful vacations at all times of the year. I rode up to visit my grandparents and my cousin Lee’s family a few times and a couple of other times rode up to visit my mom during a Junior High Summer Camp that she advised. We had great fun loading the kids on the back of the bike with my too-large-for-them helmet and riding them around the camp. I can imagine trying that in today’s litigious environment; I would never get it by the Session (ruling body) at LCPC.

I had a small window of opportunity for this ride with my daughter’s family getting a cabin at the lake for a couple of days and I took it. The ride up on Friday the 15^th was most remarkable for smells; first the freshening air going up the grade to the Tejon Pass, then out along Hwy 99 and through the fertile valley where I passed the onion truck and dodged the skins flying off, same for the load of hay, and then there was the dairy farm with its pungent array fertilizer and methane. It was nothing like riding by Harris Ranch on Hwy 5 but still, it’s a dairy and there is no way except by holding your breath to hide from odors while riding.

With my 6a.m. KSU departure I made it in plenty of time to enjoy a low-traffic Friday and Hwy 41 and the roads leading into the lake  were traffic light so that I only “had” to pass a couple of cars. I had 23 hours with Matt, Ashley, and my grandkids, Teya and little JJ. Jeremiah took a nasty tumble down the stairs while I was getting out of my riding gear and sported a half a hardboiled egg sized knot for rest of their mini-vacation – tough kid though as it did not deter him from trying to head butt me off the swimming dock later that day. We had a two-hour putt around the drought depleted lake on a 50hp pontoon boat for fun and then an easy and laid back dinner.

I had the kickstand up at 10 a.m. the next morning and did my traditional ride around the lake for a photo op on the dam. The ride home was more hectic with people trying to get home after their week away and everybody kept a frenetic pace until it was stop-and-go up the grade from Santa Clarita to San Fernando due to an accident. Even so, I made it home in a little less than 5.5 hours with a longish lunch stop.

It is not worth 11 hours of riding for a 23 hour visit, including sleep time, with your grandkids…said no biker ever. I had nice ride on a great bike to see one of my very favorite places with family. Can’t beat that.

For a fun little challenge, post your own “said no biker ever” quote, either your own or one you “borrow” from someone. Post it either as a comment to the blog or on the FB page.

Directly across from the Marina where we stayed.

This is Thanksgiving time level for the lake

Y’all keep the iron side up.

A Not So Subtle Reminder

It was a stark reminder; nothing subtle about it. There were some harbingers that things weren’t right on the road ahead; the L.A. City fire hook and ladder that had made the turn from Foothill Blvd. on to Oro Vista just before me and two sport bike riders stopping to talk with them and pointing back the way they’d come, the way I was headed, and then the group of a dozen or so sport riders coming down Big Tujunga Canyon Road and giving me the slow down signal. I had just passed the Vogel Flat Road turn-off and came around the last passable turn heading up to the Angeles Forest Highway where I was stopped by a yellow-slickered Cal Fire man with his stop sign and he had me pull over on to the shoulder. There were already 10 or so sport bikes on the left shoulder with two or three on my side of the road. The CDF truck blocking the lane was one of six or eight emergency vehicles representing at least three agencies. Search and Rescue would soon join them as the LA County Sherrifs' rescue helicopter circled above looking for the closest landing zone. A couple of hundred yards up from us was a rider on the ground surrounded by trained personnel administering first aid and stabilizing the rider. His bike was a few yards up totaled by the impact with the guardrail, one that I’d seen being replaced back in 2009 after the Station Fire had burned out every wood supported rail for mile after mile of forest roadways.

Down Rider and Bike

On the way down the hill...

...and on by the onlookers

The scene in front of me was forthright – vigilance always; know the road, your bike, and your capabilities. To quote Dirty Harry, “A man’s got to know his limitations.” The rider had lost it on a curve, not blind but with an open view of the whole turn leading into the next one. No one around me knew if he hit something and lost it or what really happened. Some things are just unavoidable, indescribable.

I could have walked up to get a closer look but 200 yards away was as close to a looky-loo as I wanted to be. It wasn’t too long and they had the man lifted into the back of the search and rescue pick-up and passed by the growing and waiting crowd and out of sight where they met up with the helicopter which soon rose up and flew over us up the canyon and then over Mt. Lukens to head to a local hospital; maybe Verdugo Hills but likely either Glendale or Huntington Memorial.

Rescue Helicopter at its base

Again at the base in 2009

I had stood around mostly apart from the other riders but within earshot as they spoke to each other about their own incidents, about how they handle things, and about their safety gear. By the time the last EMT had picked up his paraphernalia I had geared back up, rolled my bike off the dirt turn out (not favorite thing on a cruiser) and headed back down the eight or nine miles to Foothill and over to my remote office to write this up. My enjoyment for the ride up to Angeles Forest Highway, over to and then down Angeles Crest Highway and a writing session on another project had disappeared with the rescue helicopter.

I said a few prayers for the downed rider and his friends and here’s one for my readers: “May God watch over you each day, around each bend in the road, and through every intersection. May he guide your path and keep you vigilant. May the Lord keep your eyes open to the road and all it brings your way. May he help you every day to keep the iron side up.”