Highway 93 2024
  
 

Day 09

June 25

  
     
   
  Since I determined there are not many options for breakfast, I finish off my leftovers from supper last night.  
   
  Today is sort of a 'detour' over to toward Shasta Lake and Russell Cycle Products as I will be leaving Highway 93 until I get done with that. I'll be back in a couple of days and I will be staying at this same place to resume my ride up Highway 93.  
   
  As I pull out of Ely and head west the streets are pretty empty.  
   
  My old friend Highway 50 is my companion for about half of my ride today. I don't really mind it as I sort of know what to expect as far as temps and availability of fuel will be.  
   
  I pass an old abandoned school house and it makes me ponder what has happened to our public education system. When I was in school, you were taught how to think but now I fear children are taught what to think. And if they don't 'toe the line', they are criticized and ostracized. Just as this building has been a long time abandoned, so have the basic principles of education in this country.  
   
  Highway 50 through these parts carries the moniker of 'The Loneliest Road In America'. There is a good reason for that as right now it's just me and my shadow and it will be that way for quite a while.  
   
  I pass another abandoned home place and I muse - as I often do - on how did that come to be. It appears to built very substantially out of stone to last for the long haul. Who knows what battles the last occupants went through until they finally gave up.  
   
  Highway 50 does through in the occasional bend that rescues you from the straight monotony.  
   
  But the it's back to the 'straight and narrow' way for long periods.  
   
  It takes you across several passes whose elevations range from 4,000+ to ....  
   
  7,000+ feet. For a frame of reference the highest point on the Blue Ridge Parkway back east is 6,053 feet.  
   
  As I enter the city of Eureka I spot this general store that probably used to be a very busy place in its day. It doesn't look like it's been in use for a long, long time.  
   
  The downtown area of Eureka looks very worn down from time, heat and a poor economy. Most of the local businesses that occupied these buildings appear to have been shuttered for a while.  
   
  But soon I am back to splendid solitude of Highway 50 which gives me a nice uninterrupted time to noodle away on some things.  
   
  As I come into Austin the road takes on a reddish hue which reminds me of what I encountered back in 2023 on Highway 12, the road that crosses Lola Pass.  
   
  One thing I quickly realize is, just like on Highway 12, this stuff is slicker than fresh snot on a door knob. Then I realize it is a plague of crickets and their remains that are providing a slippery coating on the road.  
   
  I notice that they are everywhere in thick abundance as I stop for fuel in Austin.  
   
  It makes me think of the plague of locusts that Moses put on the nation of Egypt when they refused to yield to God. There's a Goldwing rider who has also stopped and we talk about how strange that is. He is returning from a rally and is actually headed fairly close to where I am. I wish him safe travels and figure we will cross paths again today.  
   
  But it's back to chasing the ever disappearing highway and fortunately leaving the cricket plague behind.  
   
  My mind kind of wonders how the clouds in a nearly cloudless sky can casts shadows on the mountains. I'm sure some smart physics or math professor can explain it but it still is an interesting visual to see. Some things don't have to be explained to enjoy them as often the explanation takes the joy out of it.  
   
  I remember these white flats from my previous rides through here. It appears to be a local custom to gather black rocks and spell out messages along the road in this area.  
   
  As I pass through Fallon I remember the lovely Robert L. Douglass House built in 1904. It is an outstanding example of the Queen Anne architecture.  
   
  It's time for me and for BlueBelle to get some fuel. There's a Love's handy so it will do nicely. I find that Love's generally has fresh food, good gas, and clean restrooms and this one is no exception.  
   
  My friend on the blue Goldwing in Austin pulls in and we greet each other. At this point our routes diverge so again I wish him safe travels to his home.  
   
  I left Highway 50 a little ways back for I80 to Reno. Then out of Reno I'm on Highway 395 til I almost get to Susanville, California. On long runs like this one, I like to keep the number of highways I'm running as low in quantity as practical though it might be a little farther in miles.  
   
  Highway 395 takes me right by the shores of White Lake, located just east of the California border in Nevada.  
   
  Then I'm into California, the last state for the day.  
   
  Not very far in, I come to another inspection station but they wave me on through without me really coming to a stop.  
   
  Next I pass by beautiful Honey Lake in the distance. It's just a mind twister to see these large lakes in the midst of all the dry and arid land. They almost seem like a contradiction by their mutual existence.  
   
  Soon I'm in Susanville where I leave Highway 395 for lovely Highway 44 which will take me into Redding, my stop for the evening.  
   
  As I make my way through the town, I spot this neat old house sort of 'guarding' the roadway.  
   
 

As I climb higher and higher, the temps get more pleasant and more pleasant. When I pass through here, the chorus of an old country song pops into my head -

In the pines, in the pines
Where the sun never shines
And we shiver when the cold wind blows

 

  
   
  I am quickly knocked out of my pleasant reverie by a major construction zone. It's pretty nasty and I am stuck following a pilot vehicle. The issue is that it is moving so slow I almost lose the bike when I get into the muck and in the mire. In those situations the only thing you can do is get on the throttle and hang on. I manage to recover but I have to almost run over the pilot car to do it. I make myself a mental a note to see if I can route around this area on the way back.  
   
  There's another construction zone but fortunately no pilot car and no slick stuff. There's a prolong wait at both places so I really need to plot an alternate course when I return this way. But soon I leave all that behind as the road stretches out uninterrupted before me.  
   
  And I get a good glimpse of a true snow capped mountain much to my delight.  
   
  But then I remember my previous descent into Redding out of the elevations. It's a lot like slowly lowering yourself into a tub of hot boiling water.  
   
  By the time I get to the LaQuinta where I will be staying for a couple of days, I feel like I've been run through one of those old timey wringer washers. Except it ain't squeezed all all the sweat off me by the time I arrive..  
   
  Fortunately right next door is a excellent steakhouse in easy walking distance. I get the road stink washed off once again, get on my walking shoes and get a nice air conditioned booth inside.  
   
  From the salad to the steak it is absolutely outstanding and I have a great server also.  
   
  With enough meat in my belly to turn out my lights, it's a slow waddle back to my room. But it's a quick walk to the place of slumber as the skin over my stomach pulls down the skin over my eyes.