Category Archives: USA

national park, roadtrip, travel, USA, vehicles

Redwoods

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Leaving Sacramento on another fine day, we headed north on the Five through many miles of cropping land – even saw quite a bit of rice, which was surprising. Getting off the interstate & driving west we were quickly up in the hills & going past Clearlake. There was still quite a bit more time at the wheel before getting to the Redwood Highway. I must have been getting tired as I drove straight in to a really big tree. It was just as well that we came out the other side relatively unscathed.

As we approached this tree that you could drive through, a bit of a queue was forming as some complete muppet was trying to get a big Dodge Ram (that’s a very large pickup) through the hole. He was pretty stuck & holding everyone up. Somehow, I think with quite a bit of panel compression, he eventually got out the other side & everyone else could stop laughing & drive through. Most amazingly, that tree with the big tunnel through it is still growing strongly – incredible trees.

Further north we dived off the 101 & took the much more scenic Avenue of the Giants (the old 101). There were plenty of opportunities to stop & wander around various groves of the Californian Redwoods – well, those groves that remain after extensive logging in the late 1800s & early 1900s. Having grown up near & spent so much time hiking & biking around the Redwood Grove in Rotorua, NZ, this was really special to see the originals in their natural environment so close to the coast. (The Rotorua ones were planted during the Great Depression, along with many other species, to see what grew well in the area. That grove is still doing well & a very pleasant place to stroll or ride – some of the best trailpark riding in NZ is close by.) Able to grow well over 100m tall & for a couple or three thousand years – these are definitely the tallest living things on earth. To see so many of them was just fantastic. As I mentioned before, they can still continue to grow well despite scarring, holes & hollows in the base of the trunk. It was a little weird standing in the center of the base of a still living hundred metre tall tree.

Needless to say we spend a lot of time wandering around with crooked necks & jaws dropped. It was so nice & cool down on the ground & quite dark too. With light poking through the canopy & my snapshot-only photo ability, it’s rather difficult to get the proper impression of just how tall these trees are. But here’s a few token pictures to satisfy those who can’t abide all my words (not that such people are still reading).

A fallen giant – as the wood decomposes so slowly, dead trees can stick around for hundreds of years providing shelter for all sorts of plants & animals.

For some reason I’d decided on three nights in Eureka – which is not really all that big of a town. It had clouded over nicely by the time we arrived & the wind had picked up making it hardly attractive. Still we have a room & the historic downtown which I discovered this afternoon is quite nice (although with a strange lack of red, white & blue for the upcoming holiday weekend). Today we had a pretty lazy day, driving north to Redwood National & State Parks. I was feeling rather lethargic (I think excusable after two months on the road), so didn’t go for a ride (it would have mostly ended up being on the road). We walked through a few more groves (the Lady Bird Johnson Grove was particularly good) & marvelled at the magnificent trees a bit more.

(Because these trees are so old & so weathered being near the coast, their bark is grey-brown. If you want to see red Redwoods – go to Rotorua.

Taken for the meadow – not any Redwoods

family, history, roadtrip, travel, USA, vehicles

Sacramento

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Our first morning in Sacramento dawned a lot drier than it had been when we drove in to town the afternoon before. As it was Valerie’s birthday, we had a day off from driving & biking – instead we walked a short distance along the river to Old Sacramento. There’s still quite a few of the old buildings left around this part of the riverside & it was a pleasant walk around them & by the vessels docked. What was billed as North America’s best railroad museum was also in the vicinity so we popped in there to have a look.

The museum did a really good job of covering how the expansion of the railroad helped the nation to mature. There were also, of course, many big shiny old locomotives & carriages. Most of the wood-burning steam locos were quite small (4-4-0), but beautifully presented.

In this case, not so beautifully photographed

The biggest steam loco was one of the last built for Southern Pacific (in the 1940s). A cab-forward design (the locos were getting so big all the steam & so on was getting to be a problem in tunnels on cab-rear designs) it was a hulking great big thing with sixteen drive wheels (4-8-8-4). Unfortunately, it was only in service for twelve years as it was superceded by diesel. Another highlight was finally getting to go on a Pullman car – this one a sleeper.

Strolling for fifteen minutes or so after lunch in to downtown Sacramento, we reached the Capitol. With extensive gardens around it, the building itself is also impressive. We wandered around a bit looking at various displays before getting our now weary legs back to the motel.

Valerie’s birthday dinner was on the Delta King – a old paddlewheel boat moored in Old Sacramento that we’d seen earlier in the day.

I’m convinced that whoever was building that pyramid across the river got bored & gave up


It was by far the fanciest meal we’d had in a long time – it was great to have a break from over-enthusiastic & overbearing waitresses. As we were walking around the deck at the end of the meal we saw Tower Bridge lift its deck for a launch & as we got back on dry land I saw my first skunk (thankfully from a distance). But that sighting didn’t sour my impressions of Sacramento – the small part of what we saw (all downtown) was really nice, & we had two great meals to boot.

bikes, GPS, MTB, roadtrip, travel, USA

Downieville – another snow-ride

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Falling victim to the “I’m only here once, I had better do this ride” mentality again, I threw caution to the snow & decided to ride as much of the classic Downieville rides that I could. Valerie shuttled me to the top & there was so much more snow at 2100m than there was in Tahoe at 2500m. This is the as far up the road as they had cleared & one of the smaller snowbanks at what would normally be the trailhead.

For the first mile or so, everything was still hardpacked snow ranging from one to three metres deep. I expect the trail down is normally a nice gentle traverse to start with, but all the snow has taken any definition out of the slope – leaving it one really steep hill. I slowly made my way down, most of the time walking backwards kicking my toes in (studs in the front of my riding shoes may have been useful). I only had one slip & slid down a few metres & thankfully landed in a nice big tree well without hitting the tree. The first mile took me one hour as I vaguely followed the track on my GPS picking the easiest path I could see across & down the slope.

The next hour I managed to double my speed – I covered two whole miles! The snow had started to thin a bit, so there were brief patches of riding interspersed with more pushing, & wading through very cold & high running streams. I had long been tempted to put the rogue pair of toe-warmers left in my Camelbak from ski season in my shoes, but it wasn’t that bad.


After two hours I was surprised to come across a guy wandering up the trail with a couple of shovels. The local trail care association & some Forestry Service people have been clearing & tidying the trail from below. Apparently I wasn’t the only nutter out doing such things – fifty or sixty people had rode the trail over the weekend. This boded well – it must be a good trail. Apparently the snow is melting fast, just a few days ago I was told there was almost twice as much snow around! I could hardly believe that, considering how much I’d just seen. Shortly after, at around 1700m the snow was pretty much done with & I could get on with riding singletrack.

The trail crew had done a magnificent job & the trail was an absolute delight. Threading through the never-ending North Californian forest on a mostly dirt trail descending at a gentle, but good, rate was pure bliss. It was easily the best groomed trail I’ve been on during this trip, possibly in North America. The setting & the trail condition reminded me so much of the smooth, fun trails back home in Rotorua. Finishing Butcher’s trail (the one I’d supposedly been on from the start) & crossing the river there was a nasty shock of a climb (not bad, but definitely not going downhill) & I found the start of the Third Divide Trail at the top of the ridge.

Third Divide was more of the same – simply sublime riding in beautiful forest.

About halfway down it started to get a little more rocky & technical, but nothing much to slow one down. Although, I was taking it pretty easy after the morning’s snow trials. Near the end of the trail, with a big grin on my face, I met the only other rider I saw that day & we swapped notes of which trails to ride where around the west-USA. A brief stretch on gravel road & I was on First Divide into Downieville itself. This mostly followed the rivers down the valley & was slightly more exposed than the previous trails.

It was also flatter & had more rocks to deal with on the trail. Not quite as fun, it was still a very good trail in the scheme of things to get into town.

Just as I did make it into town the clouds that had been threatening to make my ride more trying started to send a little rain down – but it was none too bad. With the snow, it was the hardest ride of the trip, but with that came the rewards – definitely the best downhill section I’ve done.  If you get the chance, ride it – just wait a couple of weeks until there is no snow left.  Packing up, eating lunch & noticing more & more July 4 bunting coming out of the closet we headed south towards Sacramento.

city, roadtrip, travel, USA, vehicles

A Tale of Small “Cities”

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I woke too tired & sore to be bothered getting in a quick shuttle run up to Armstrong Connector, Sidewinder & Corral before leaving Tahoe.  Pleased to be leaving all the traffic behind, it did feel like I was leaving with unfinished business.  Maybe if I ever return the higher long trails will be clear to ride.  On the other hand, maybe it’ll be the middle of winter & I’ll be skiing.  Pipe-dreams.

We hit only the second state capital of the entire trip (the first being Helena, Montana, right at the start) in Carson City, Nevada.  We didn’t bother stopping on our way to the trio of old mining towns – Silver City, Gold Hill & Virginia City.  It’s always a little incredible how quickly dropping elevation changes you from the alpine of the Sierras to the Nevada desert landscape.  There wasn’t reason to stop in Silver City, but I did spy an old steam locomotive sitting on a siding near the top of Gold Hill.

As I was poking around looking at it (it was in pretty good condition) some guy appeared from I’m not sure where – probably checking I wasn’t trying to put it in my back pocket.  He was part of the historical society that has been restoring the loco & old freight depot adjacent to it.  He was only too happy to talk about the projects & the mining history & answer my questions – which was great.

Virginia City was only a mile up the road – Valerie came here on Saturday while I was playing in the snow & didn’t realize Gold Hill was so close.  The main street of Virginia City stretches & stretches and is most definitely the best preserved western-style street we’ve seen so far on our travels.  There were plenty of saloons, museums & of course, being Nevada, places to see your money disappear in to machines with flashing lights & irritating tunes.  The site of the Comstock Lode in the nineteenth century, this place was booming on the back of all the silver & gold being pulled out of the hills.  A couple of interesting snippets – the name Mark Twain was first used from here, as Samuel Clemens wrote for the local newspaper & George Hearst (of the Hearst Castle, which we visited almost two weeks ago, family) made one of his fortunes here.

We drove “all the way to Reno”, not much to see there – it’s like a little, tame version of Vegas in parts.   Rancho San Rafael on the northwest of town was a very pleasant spot for lunch; interestingly I could have kissed a Blarney stone.  Reminding me of “how would you like to play a central park in Newark?” (Flight of the Conchords, before you ask, Mum), for some reason there was a stone from Blarney Castle in the garden.  Continuing north we were soon going through the Californian border check as we then headed up & west into the Sierra Valley.  I was surprised that it was so wide & flat.  They obviously have plenty of water as the cropping & livestock herds gave evidence of.  Climbing out of the valley, as we pressed on east, was once again stunning, very beautiful forest as we reached Sierra City (another large village with “City” tacked on the end of its name).  Eventually we found a couple of beds at Kokanee Kabins.  Nestled in the woods, it’s great to have the birds chirping away over the steady stream of all that snowmelt running down the river.