Lassen and Shasta. The Pacific Ring Of Fire - Part 1.

What drives my fascination with volcanoes? It's not the danger or the peril. On a day to day basis, those are practically non-existent for volcanoes which lay dormant for decades if not centuries. Yet, being fickle, mysterious monoliths, often shrouded in the mist - volcanoes permeate mystical in our legends and our psyche. We are drawn to them, like the one ring destined to return to it's fiery origins in the depths of Mt. Doom - volcanoes exert an inexplicable pull on the strings of my heart and my mind.    

When Europeans settled the West-unknown,  in some instances they were undoubtedly drawn to settle in the stunningly gorgeous and fertile shadow of these sleeping beasts. Unaware of their history, or the fire which churned in their cores. The natives who roamed the land before the Europeans arrived, had no written history, only legends passed on through word-of-mouth, of the explosive battle between the gods of the sky and the earth, atop these mountain peaks. It's easy to theorize that when the West was conquered, the victors paid little attention to these fairy tales from the natives. 

It had been a long 4 years since I toured these volcanoes in the Cascade range. July of 2012 was the first time ever, that I had strung together a vacation ride through the Cascades. At the end of that trip, I had vowed to return again within the next couple of years. Although, as most resolutions often do, it fell victim to life, work and responsibilities galore. So it was to be 4 years - almost to the day, and countless invitations later, when I embarked once again stringing together volcanoes along the way from Lassen to Rainer, with the goal of seeing and spending some quality time visiting my very dear friends Lisa and Tobie, who have a mountain cabin near Rainier.  

Archiving the memories of the first portion of the trip in this post, taking some time here and there to do so. Hopefully, I don't run out of time, or steam in it's midst .. it might happen. Ride more, write less.. sigh.. :)

The Mystical Mt. Shasta.

I have been making this pilgrimage for over 8 years now. My adopted family lives here, in this mystical place. This place seems to exist at the confluence of the natural and the metaphysical. It has for millennia inspired lore, legend, and spirituality - from the times when native tribes roamed the land to the present day. 

One such folklore about the origins of the mountain has stuck with me, and I will share it here.

Some time ago in the very distant past - this land was populated by an ancient tribe, which migrated seasonally between the coastal mountains of California, and the great plains which once existed here. 
They were led by a much loved and revered chieftain, who guided them in their passages for many years. There came a time, however, when the ravages of old age had made the chief too frail, and too feeble to make the trek through the coastal mountains. Yet, the chief longed to see the ocean one last time. 
It was unlikely that he would have survived the treacherous journey to the ocean one last time, but his people loved him so much, they embarked on an undertaking which would change the landscape forever. 
If the tribe couldn't get their chief to the ocean, they were going to build him a pedestal so high, that he could see the ocean from atop it. So, they labored - far and wide, and day and night, and they terraformed, carving out earth from the far reaches and building a colossus underneath their beloved chief. 
Thus, the mountain rose, higher and higher into the heavens, until finally - the chief could once again see the ocean, from up among the clouds. His dying wish gratified, he immediately asked his people to stop building. When they stopped, they dropped the rest of the earth they had collected at their feet, where they stood - giving rise to the lesser mountains and hills which surround Mt. Shasta. :) 

I hope you enjoy the pictures which follow! 

Running dry for a lack of rain. A natural spring also feeds this lake, albeit now, a bit feebly.

Touring the Golden State in their Golden Years - Lassen, Shasta and Crater Lake. (Not a Ride Report)

It has been a while since I have updated the blog, the back log is now a few months long. I have been in a time crunch all year, which has shown no signs of relenting. Nevertheless, I wanted to try at the very least to continue and finish the story of my parents' grand tour of California during their visit here this summer. Once again, as is evident from the post title, this is not motorcycling content. It appears it will be 2015 before any motorcycle content appears again on this blog, it has been that kind of a year. The readers of this blog primarily being of the motorcycling community, I am not sure if they are following along, and if they are, then I thank them for their understanding and patience. I must finish what I started, but it is not just that, needless to say I am taking great pleasure reminiscing on this blog, about the time I spent with my family this summer. So be forewarned, pictures of my family have replaced the usual pictures of my motorcycle juxtaposed against grand vistas. :)

After our return from Yosemite, our sights had shifted north for another great outdoors expedition to the volcanoes of northern California and southern Oregon. Our first stop was Lassen National Park. This park has the southernmost active volcanoes in the Cascade Range, part of the 'Pacific Ring of Fire'. This is an active geological area with boiling mud pots, smoking fumaroles and churning hot springs. In the picture below, you can see a smoking fumarole in the background.

Peaks and Falls - Another Anti Ride Report.

I apologize for the non-motorcycle content as of late. I would have liked to figure out a way for these non-motorcycle related posts to appear else-where, rather than the main motorcycle ride archives, which still remains the main driving force for creating this blog, but I confess, I haven't spent much time at all trying to make it happen, so please bear with me.

Motorcycling and photography continue to be my two true loves and passions, but how do you motorcycle when your trusty steed has been rendered not so trusty anymore? There is no point and no sense in not being outdoors enjoying all the sights that traveling has to offer, while you await a remedy to all that ails your two-wheeled companion. That means falling back to my backup transportation, which is no slug by comparison, even if it has 4 wheels, it still has bigger Brembo ABS brakes, traction control, and a 6 speed transmission as a conduit to a snarling motor which (through some modifications) churns out 300+ HP at the wheels. Not bad, not bad at all.. :)

What follows is another collection of photographs from a spontaneous and unplanned excursion into Northern California, to see some sights, enjoy some hikes and visit with some of my favorite people in this world. Unlike my motorcycling posts, this blog post, will be far less effusive. Writing about non-motorcycle trips doesn't quite inspire prose which bubbles from my heart and tingles my fingertips to dance on the keyboard. So like the blog post preceding this one, I will keep banter to a minimum and let the beauty of Northern California speak in it's stead. I hope you enjoy the view! :)

My favorite mountain hide-away. Mt. Shasta in a veil of silk.

Wandering the Cowboy Country of the Western U.S. - Chapter 3: The Mountain Hideaway.

The culminating Chapter, of the journey from Chapter 1, and Chapter 2.

I love Mountain hideaways. They are amazing not only for hiding out from the Zombie Apocalypse, but pretty much for hiding away from almost everything including all those worries, chores, stresses and the busy-bee activities of your day to day life. It's the perfect hideaway from the Zombie that one becomes in real day to day life! 

Stanley is one such hideaway, I have come here twice now and have loved it both times. Although, this time the weather was starkly different from last, but it just added a different element to the appeal of this place. This morning the sunrise was greeted by moody skies, still lingering after last night's storm. The previous evening, I had enjoyed hearing the moo'ing of the cows right up to sunset. They had moved on this morning or had been herded back to where ever they rest for the night. 

A Weekend To Celebrate.

A story told in reverse chronological order. The pictures were taken on my return journey. I had come home safely from a celebration weekend under the gaze of an imposing mountain. Getting home safe from a motorcycle adventure is always worth a toast. We don't like surprise endings in motorcycle stories, the cliche and boring "Home safe and sound" ending never gets old in our world. 

It had been a great ride, astride my fire breathing monster of a steed. Fire breathing both literally as in it was a 100+ degrees outside and the heat from this 1298 cc engine between my knees was roasting my ... ahem ... nuts, and figuratively as in some scorching performance on the winding roads of the Sierra mountains.

It's not unlike the well muscled and sculpted steed of this Pony Express rider, whose statue stands (gallops?) in Old Sacramento, where I stopped for a few minutes on my way home, but the monster of an FJR doesn't need a whip to goad it to go where I point it to, and go there fast, it just needs a gentle roll of the right wrist..

Mt. Rainier and the ride home - Getting your money's worth!

The Final and the longest chapter of the Ring of Fire tour of the Pacific North West, covering July 7th, 8th and 9th, 2012.

Get your money's worth. At least in pictures, all 39 of them! Fair Warning! ;)

July 7th, 2012.

The beginning of this chapter overlaps the penultimate chapter. I felt that the story flowed better, if I separated the two evenings of festivities at the cabin in Packwood from the riding adventures of the day in between. Brian and I took some time in the morning after we arrived at the cabin to go explore Rainier National Park. Tobie had given us some very helpful ride suggestions and points of interests the night before and laid out several options. We chose not to ride the longer routes and decided to forego riding some tempting roads in the vicinity, so we could spend more time visiting with friends who had rode in from all around North America.
With an eye to a lunchtime return to the cabin, we got ourselves an early start and headed towards the East entrance of Rainier National Park and Stevens Canyon Road. The picture below is of Brian riding sweep on Stevens Canyon Road. Even though it was not a super early start, we found not many people were heading this direction.

Deliciously Twisted - A Celebration of Independence.

The story here is the first chapter of the Ring of Fire tour of the Pacific Northwest enroute to the RTE (Ride to Eat) in Packwood, WA.

July 3rd & 4th, 2012.

The feeling of being free, unchained from the control, influence and obligations to another (in this case my employer), it had been a while since I had enjoyed what it felt like, for a short period of time otherwise known as a vacation. A vacation which almost didn't realize. Just as it is always darkest before the dawn, the laws of the universe dictate that things at work almost always blow up just before you are supposed to run free.

Embark on my celebration of independence, however, I did! A much needed one. I hadn't wandered anywhere fun on my motorcycle for what was beginning to feel like an eternity. I would have been damned if I wasn't going to overdose on some very delectable morsels on this trip.

A couple hours after my garage door closed, I was enjoying my first serving of the delicious "twisted-ness" that Hwy 162 serves up with nary a break. One of my favorite love at first ride roads in the 'Moto Mecca' of northern California.