Rider magazine's first issue in 1974 had an article called "highway 1, you ultimate one..." about the PCH between Cambria and Carmel. It was some 3000 miles away from this Jersey boy, but over a million miles away in my dreams that I would ever ride it. But dreams do come true, so do miracles, and less than 18 months later I was to take the first of many trips on the this ultimate road. In fact so many times that I became "Highway 1'ed out," and the road had lost a lot of its appeal. But the love is alive again, and here are some trips that made it special. With my trip last week in the truck with Theresa flooding my soul with precious memories. It is always more fun travelling with your best friend.
It was August of 1975, and John from Jersey, whom I had met in Santa Monica was riding back home with me. Everything to him was "outrageous," and so was Highway 1. The road never seemed to end, and although we were to go to Yosemite, Grand Canyon, and Carlsbad Caverns in the next few days, none would have the affect on me the coast road would. And still does today, I found out 37 years later.
My first motorcycle ride up Highway 1 was with Rex in 1982. We weren't sure where it began, so from San Diego up to Cambria, any sign that said 1 we got off on, and wasted a lot of time. Ignorance will dot hat to you. But when we finally got to the road, we were disappointed to find it closed-a huge landslide had closed the road to all but local traffic, some 32 miles north of Cambria. Our dream ride over, or so we thought. So spending the night in the Piedra Blancas Motel, we listened to the rain and wind howl, bummed out. Two riders, two friends, who made a pact that night that if anything ever was to happen to me, Rex would take care of Theresa and Christopher-no Andrew yet. Then it dawned on us-if the road was closed, that meant no traffic, and a 64 mile round trip with the road to ourselves. So the next day, we awoke excited, it was cold but sunny, and we raced up and down that section 3 or 4 times, as fast as we could, using both lanes as there was no traffic to deal with. Better than any dream I could have ever dreamed. Sadly this was the last ride Rex would ever take, as he died less than a week later. And I had to find it out from reading it in the obituaries. I'll never forget that night, or that day. And I still miss Rex. Maybe Highway 1 is the ultimate, the last ride. It was for Rex.
Don Short and I made the same trip next March. He was on his new Interceptor, and we were both riding too fast-stupid fast. The road was clear, but cold, and we were shivering, but pressing on. Suddenly we came around a corner, and leaning against the cliff wall was a Suzuki, that had been down. Like a warning sign for us, we both slowed down the pace, but not the fun. That vision still stands out in my head, and I ride smarter today thinking of it.
We were going to meet Brett and Jeff and then the 8 of us would go to San Francisco, then down the coast. It was cold, and in Coulterville Milt and Jackie had split off from us-the seat of his V-Max threatening to end his marriage. But the rest of us carried on, and raced down Highway 1 at ridiculous speeds. In very cold, rainy, and dark weather. We were to spend the night in Santa Barbara, and I called ahead because we were running late. No problem, the owner left the key under the mats for the rooms, and we got in way after midnight. Again Highway 1 tempting and testing us, but all of rising to the occasion and beating her once again. My first north to south ride. Six friends, 4 bikes, one road. And one way cool motel owner.
Highway 1 in so many ways is the ultimate road. But just prior to my first ride in 1975, I met the ultimate one, Jesus Christ. And I need to testify that being on the road with Him is the ultimate ride. I have never seen Highway 1 without Him, so I cannot compare the beauty before I met Him. But I do know this, any road with Him is much better than the same road without Him. Jesus Christ makes the difference. He is more than the bike, the road, or the company you ride with. He is with you, all the time. And for me, He points out such beauties, lets us have divine interventions that others call luck, and has given me life. Life I didn't know I didn't have. And it continues just as fresh today as it did 37 years ago.
Stopping in Gorda last week, I talked with an old local, who had seen so much of Highway 1 and those who fall in love with it. When I mentioned the landslide in 1983, his face it up. He remembered it too, and without many words shared, we both went back to our landslide trips in 1983. Roads will change us, and Highway 1 did in ways I didn't know. And sharing the ride with Theresa last week brought many back-and invigorated new ones. For as beautiful as the road is, it comes alive with someone you love to share it with.
Just like life. Share your life with Jesus. Enjoy the trip, and as the memories grow, and as you change, enjoy the fellowship with Him. Only heaven will be better, but for now the roads we travel here will have to do. Just make sure your road leads to Him, so that it leads to heaven. Jesus Christ-the ultimate one, who gave it all. Who makes any road I travel with Him the ultimate road because He is with me. It had been too many years between trips up the 1, don't let any more time slip away from you and Jesus. When you find that ultimate road, don't stray from it. You never know what is around the next corner, it is so reassuring to ride with someone who does.
That's my story. What's yours? Stop and thank Jesus now. And let the good times roll...and ride!
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com