Route Not Found

You know, I really am grateful that, so far, none of the cars have — you know what? I’m not gonna finish that thought. Just in case.

The first winding segment of the day, Highway 1 through the Tamalipas Valley outside Sausalito to the Muir Beach back at the coast. 

Many thanks to Adam and Andrea for putting us up and showing us around in San Francisco! We packed up this morning, fetched the vehicles from the garage, and promptly got stuck in traffic. Without admitting to any weakness on my part, we had planned our route out of San Francisco to take the Embarcadero not only because it is iconic, but mainly because it is flat. Unfortunately, even by its usual congested standards, it was a mess today. After what seemed like hours, we finally rejoined the 101 and crossed the Golden Gate Bridge as a team.

When we landed on the other side in Sausalito, we followed Highway 1 as it split off, back to the coast over the windiest road we’ve seen yet. Little did we know, this would be the theme for today.

After the first several beaches, traffic thinned out. The rest of the day was spent speeding along this narrow, twisted ribbon of spectacular nature. Sometimes less than a quarter mile divided forest mountains from sandy beaches. The smells of seasalt air, cattle herds, and eucalyptus trees mixed together as wind rushed through the truck cab. A very strange combination.

We stopped for a brief lunch and fuel near Bodega Bay and watched the windsurfers and sailboats fly around the choppy inlet. We again feasted on great seafood, and I fed the truck the first serving of the injector cleaner. It’s running smoother today; the idling issues have smoothed out, and the Service light went off! I still leave a burst of white exhaust on a cold start, though, but it hasn’t gotten any worse…

From Bodega Bay, we followed the 1 around to the Russian Gulch State Park near Mendocino for another round of photos and some wandering.

The park runs beneath yet another impressive bridge on this adventure.

(Yes, I’ll clean my lenses tonight. Yikes!)

Then Highway 1 treated us to the most spectacular sunset I’ve ever seen. The sun set over the water, lighting the ocean on fire, while we swerved around the banked road high above the beach at speeds unapproved by our mothers.

Just as the sun set and twilight turned the sky a deep blue, Highway 1 plunged deep into a hilly forest of trees so tall, the tops weren’t even visible. Evan thinks they were mostly eucalyptus, and that we’ll see the redwoods tomorrow. We each put our vehicles to quite the handling test, as the cornering got increasingly aggressive. It was easily the most challenging part of today’s drive, and we did it mostly in the dark.

When we emerged out the other side, as Highway 1 joins back up with US 101 in Legett, we looked up at a breathtakingly clear and star-filled night sky. Even the Milky Way was clearly visible.

A treacherously steep driveway at the south end of the Avenue of the Giants led us up to our cabin motel, the Madrona Motor Court. We unloaded and quickly ran across the street to a nearby bar, probably the only one around. Home to people no less than thirty years our senior with a jukebox that began with Mercy, Mercy Me and continued with Desperado, this little mountain establishment seems to host quite the local color. We toasted the awesomeness of our three vehicles and called it a night.

Today was our longest drive so far, and we hit one thousand miles this afternoon. (George’s Cabriolet hit 180k, too, which we celebrated.) Tomorrow will be nearly as long, taking us out of California and into Coos Bay, Oregon, which is good because the truck’s registration expired yesterday…

One! Thousand! Miles!

Y’all, my Service Engine light turned off!

And now I’ve managed to make myself very carsick…

And I thought Big Sur was a fun drive! I’ve seen deserts, mountains, beaches, ranches, farms, marshes, forests, and small towns before, but never all at once.

All the way over the Golden Gate Bridge. We got separated in the tunnel, but got back in formation by the end to land on the other side as a team.

I got bitched out by some granola lady in a Nissan Leaf

I think the thing that has surprised us the most about each city we visit is how little time we have there. San Francisco is no exception. I travel here for work occasionally, and I love this place. One day just isn’t enough.

We had to start the morning by rescuing our cars from the sketchy overnight garage. This morning’s attendant was much more talkative and friendly. He did not, however, care to look at the claim checks. We should have done some shopping.

First he rescued the truck, which he could only barely bring to life, and brought it sputtering to the entrance. “Yo, it always do that?” Then the Cabriolet, which he seemed to find just as amusing as Evan and I do. And finally, when he broke out the Alfa, he had a huge grin on his face. “Man, these some pretty old cars.” Indeed, and all likely older than you, sir.

From there, it was a “quick” drive to the next garage. Unfortunately, not having actually driven in this city before, I did not realize how stupid Google Navigation’s advice truly was before it was too late: Turn right onto Market Street.

Past due for starvation prevention, we started wandering and found ourselves at a sushi place just south of the Castro that had pretty killer lunch specials. I could eat fish from San Francisco for the rest of my life and be quite happy about it.

Then we spent the afternoon in the Golden Gate Park on the west side of the city. With such tall trees, it’s surprisingly easy to feel like you’ve left the city for a quiet, green paradise.

Here, we confronted an uncomfortable possibility: the truck may have a cracked head gasket. On a cold start, the exhaust is white, but the sputtering in the garage held still long enough to realize it smells sweet, which indicates coolant. However, there’s no oil floating on the coolant in the radiator, and the oil on the dipstick isn’t milky, so if we’re right, it’s minor and my donkey has plenty of miles left in him. But it does explain why the fan clutch, fan, and water pump were so new: Jaime had an overheating problem. I’ve decided to believe that he thought he fixed it. And in truth, the exhaust issue wasn’t apparent until we encountered cooler weather in Paso Robles.

We’re hoping that the idling issue may be the sign of some partially clogged injectors. After reading yesterday’s post and coming to the same conclusion, Chris Devidal, a coworker at Four Kitchens, proposed his favorite brand of injector cleaner, so after the park, we made a quick stop at AutoZone for two bottles!

Not to go too long without demonstrating that this journey is, in fact, all about food, I split off from the group to meet another coworker, Jon Peck, his wife Sarah, and their baby Genevieve for dinner at a gastropub in SoMa. I haven’t seen that baby since she was a month old, so she was much bigger than last I saw. She kept looking at me and smiling and waving. And she kept trying to reach for the fancy beer. But she still didn’t make much noise. She will absolutely be the coolest kid ever. If I’d been thinking, I would have suggested walking over to the garage to get a picture of baby driving the truck, since all I have is pictures of her hangin’ out with the cool kids in pubs or at tech conferences.

Tomorrow we’ll head out to Phillipsville via the 101, which takes us over the Golden Gate Bridge and up into the redwoods along the Avenue of the Giants. I’m excited!