I set off late in the day, probably right before noon, aiming for the Mendocino National Forest, where I'd been before for truck camping. Crossing the Richmond Bridge, and as you can see, fully prepared for riding through Richmond.
I took the 101 straight up and finally approached the forest in the afternoon.
I made camp at Lake Pillsbury. When I pulled up to my site, I found a vulture sitting on the wood fence, giving no fuck about anything at all. I wondered if this was some kind of omen, whether I should challenge him to a game of chess or something to buy time in this mortal realm. As it turns out, right around 5:30PM the wind picks up over the lake and as soon as the trees started moving he was up in the air trying to catch an updraft. Laziest portent of death ever.
The view out over the lake was kinda nice, and with a broad shore there was plenty of wildlife. My neighbors were very loud at the campground, playing country music over their car speakers until 2am.
Lake Pillsbury to Howard Lake, North Mendocino NF
I rolled out of there a bit after noon, and headed up over the M1, the main gravel fire road through the forest. I wasn't sure if the M1 was passable. The rangers said not, but a guy on an ATV who ran off the trail and needed a boost to get out told me that it was, and they'd come from there. I had gas to backtrack so I didn't worry too much either way. I took some pictures looking back, from the south/east flank of Hull Mountain.
The M1 was not passable, so I rerouted via the M6.
The M6 connects back to the M1 (out to Covelo) via the M61. The M61 had only recently become passable to 4x4s and clearly hadn't seen much motorcycle traffic.
Descending down toward Covelo.
Covelo was a small run-down town, a mix of rural decay and new pot money. The newest shop in town is the grow supply place, catering to all the growers hidden out in the forest. Odd mix of people. I met a fellow outside the gas station, he was physically fit with enormous forearms but his face and neck and teeth showed his true age (~50) and then some. He asked where I was from and where I was going, I said I'm heading north and I'm from San Francisco. He smiled and intoned, "You're in gun country now." I ignored the remark, but it struck me as odd, a sort of warning or threat. I felt it was meant more to test whether I was going to take the bait or flinch than anything malicious. I guess if I see a guy from the Midwest in San Francisco I'll need to tell him he's in buttsecks country and see what happens. We talked about his Harley, and how he knew a guy who rode one around the world, and the man wished me well and drove off in his black Escalade.
I got campsite suggestions at the NF ranger station outside Covelo; he recommended Howard Lake, and muttered that I ought to be able to cross the creek on my bike. I didn't put two and two together, but here I was preparing for my first water crossing. I was very cautious and removed all of my luggage and hefted across the 12" deep stream by foot. Glad I had my ventilated Merrell hikers.
The crossing itself was anticlimactic in the extreme. The campground was guarded by a direwolf.
I met an Italian organic chemistry professor/researcher who was visiting because he loved the country in the US, and had gotten his first taste while studying in Berkeley in the 1980s. We shared salami, parmesan, bread, tomatoes, and tequila while discussing various topics.
There were only a few people at the lake, but I had very loud neighbors who lived in a large rock nearby. Lizard and Lizardwife made a huge racket running through the dry leaves, sounding more like small cats as they rustled around. They were quite active, staying warm from the heat stored in the rock.
Howard Lake to Van Duzen County Park, Humboldt
Breaking camp in the morning I discovered new features to my setup.
I followed Mina Rd out of Covelo, a well-graded but fairly slick gravel road. It turned into pavement after about 20 miles, and was a nice trip all-around. I got a bit lost along the way, but that road too was quite nice. The environment was cooler and more alpine than down in Mendocino, but there were areas of high meadow, not sure if they were natural or from cutting. I made camp down by the river rather than in the tall redwoods, to be more secluded. This was a mistake as the river was very loud. A squirrel came in the night at ate all my trail mix then shat it out into my saddlebags.
Van Duzen to Mill Creek, Redwoods State Park
This was a simple shot from Humboldt up 101 to a campground just out Crescent City. It was very expensive, but there were hot showers and I spent some time talking with guys in the California Conservation Corps. It's an outdoors public works type gig for young guys that pays minimum wage, but they were all happy to be doing hard productive work. It was very damp out here. With my roomy Big Agnes 0-deg Whisky Park synthetic bag I was very cold. It was resting on the wall of the tent and got wet too, so I decided to send it home and get something more snug.
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