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Guzzis on Mt. Baker Sunday


Greg Field

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Sunday, me and my buddies Steakdaddy and Pedro and Easy all decided to take advantage of what could easily be the last gloriously sunny Sunday before the Seattle perma-gloom season settles in for the winter and headed up from Seattle to Mt. Baker, one of the "big" peaks that stretch along the Cascade range, in the same size range as Rainier, St. Helens, Adams, Hood, and so on down into California. A beautiful road twists all the way up one flank of Mt. Baker and ends at a spot that bears the evocative name of Artist's Point.

 

Steakdaddy, Easy, and I met up at my place. The plan was to meet Pedro in the little town of Sedro-Wooley, conveniently located where the North Cascades Highway crosses our route up there: Hwy. 9. We got a late start, plus we were all more'n a little hungover from Saturday night Bacchanals, so we blasted the first 40 or so miles on freeway to get to Hwy. 9. Nine twists north through farms and lakes and river valleys and gets better and better with each mile. It's one of those rare roads that is just scenic enough and just twisty enough that it is fun at any speed, yet gets increasingly more fun the faster you go. I just keep it set at 85 and only have to slow down for three or four 15- and 20-mph corners and a few small towns. It's about 40 miles of heaven.

 

At Sedro-Wooley, we gassed up and all headed straight for the Red Bull. I even bought some aspirin to try to counter the effects of red wine that had gotten the better of me at a wedding the night before. It hurt to even think. I was riding pretty well, though, and riding took the edge off the headache far more than did the aspirin. At the station, a lady named Michelle asked if she could join us for the ride. Sure, why not? So we headed north again on Hwy 9. Everybody rode their own ride, yet when we hit the intersection at the end of 9, we didn't have to wait long even for Easy on his Eldo. The Sportster-riding lady that hooked up with us earlier was another matter.

 

Up near the Canadian border, Hwy. 9 connected us with Hwy 542, which took us north and east into the river valley on the north side of Mt. Baker. This is classic western Washington terrain. Always wet from heavy dew or rain, except where sunlight can penetrate the firs and hemlocks and cedars to reach the road. Moss hanging like a lion's mane from every tree branch. Clouds of bugs at every river crossing. Snail tracks across the road that are so wide you can actually see them while heeled over going around a curve at 85 mph. Were these slime trails any bigger, they'd dump you on your ass. Hit one of the foot-long slugs that make them, and you may well go down . . . Fortunately, they're bright yellow and easy to see. Plus, they move so slowly that they ain't never going to just jump out in front of you the way a deer or elk can. If Sasquatch really exists, he lives here. Don't you doubt it.

 

Again, like 9, 542 is a fast and fun romp up a sparsely populated valley until you get into the Mt. Baker National Forest, where it gets steeper and tighter with each turn. Before long, every turn is a switchback marked at 15 or 20 mph and the motor moans deeply while conquering the grade. On the way up, we pass two Guzzis coming down: first a black Quota and then a black V11 Sport, two-up. That makes at least six Guzzis then on the mountain.

 

I got to the top first and was greeted with this view of one of the minor peaks to the northeast of Baker, burning through the cold, clear air:

 

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I walked over to the bathroom, opened the door, and was struck by a wall of stench that burned my nose and set my guts to tumbling. "I don't have to pee that badly," I thought and walked back toward the bike. By this time I could hear the bellowing of Steak's exhaust as he barreled up the last of the grade to Artist's Point. Before long, the rest showed up, too, save for the Sportster lady. She must've turned around and gone home because we looked for her on the way down and back but never saw her again.

 

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Four of the six Guzzis then on the mountain take a quick rest while their pilots take a walk about. Shown are my Billy Bob, Steakdaddy's Aluminium, Easy's Eldo, and Pedro's Quota.

 

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Here's Steakdaddy and Easy. Don't they look, um, "happy" together? I can tell you their faces didn't look so happy when they each walked out of that bathroom. It was funny to just stand 10 yards away and watch people's reactions when they opened that door. I didn't see anyone actually puke, but there definitely was some retching going on.

 

Here's a view down one side of the grade we had just come up:

 

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Here's another bit of the road and view. Pretty country.

 

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The ride down was great. As I pulled through the little town of Maple Something, there was the black V11 Sport I'd seen earlier, parked in front of a coffee shop. I didn't recognize the helmeted rider standing next to it, so I waved and kept going. Ten miles later, I stopped at a gas station and was filling up when I heard the bellow of that Sport chasing after me down the valley. A minute later, he skidded to a halt in front of me, and pulled of his helmet. It was Mark from Anacortes, out for a day ride with his girlfriend Anne. We chatted as the rest of the group trailed in. . .

 

. . . Except for Easy. We waited and waited and waited, and just when I was going to go back and look for him, he came blasting by. We yelled and waved, but he just looked straight ahead and kept going. So we took of after him. He was pushing hard to catch up to us. By the time we got our helmets and gloves on and mounted, he was far ahead. We had to push it to catch him. By then, it was getting dark, and we were in deer heaven. Nevertheless, we had a great, but cold, ride home, followed by some awesome enchiladas cooked by Steak's wife Rose. Thanks again, Rose! They were delicious.

 

Another great day of Guzziness in the Pacific Northwest.

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Mt. Baker is a blast. GuzziBob and I did it during MGNOC National Rally at Mt. Vernon in 2003. I also did Crater Lake (Mt. Mazama), Mt. St Helens, Mt. Ranier, Mt. Shasta and Mt. Lassen during that trip. I missed a few of the other volcanoes. You have to save something for later or the old lady will never let you go!

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Carl: I remember talking to you nd Bob afterwards. Glad you liked it.

 

Steakdaddy just sent me the following photo taken by some lady who was up there that day. She got his email address and sent it to him, saying it reminded her of the cover of the Beatles' "Abbey Road" album.

 

The way Steak (in the lead) appears to be zipping up his pants, it reminds me more of the cover of The Who's "Who's Next?" album . . .

 

MtBaker.jpg

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That looks like a real blast of a ride! I live in Ohio so its unlikely I'll get to see those mountains anytime soon. Someday though I want to take the desert route to California & go up the pch to Canada & then head east back home. What I really want to see the most of anything is the Redwood trees.

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That looks like a real blast of a ride! I live in Ohio so its unlikely I'll get to see those mountains anytime soon. Someday though I want to take the desert route to California & go up the pch to Canada & then head east back home. What I really want to see the most of anything is the Redwood trees.

Yes, the Redwoods in and around Garberville CA are cool.

Head up just north of Blaine Wahington, and I'll show you the only stand of Giant Redwoods north of the 49th parallel, 5 miles from where I live.

Ciao, Steve

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:D:D:D man i like those coppas. have only but sat on one. and yet i love them. i have ridden scura and RM. but they don't have the visual appeal of the CI. IMO. but 27k aus dollars. was ridiculous. that looks an ausome ride. ''ride on'' ciao gazza.
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Yes, the Redwoods in and around Garberville CA are cool.

Head up just north of Blaine Wahington, and I'll show you the only stand of Giant Redwoods north of the 49th parallel, 5 miles from where I live.

Ciao, Steve

 

Steve:

 

Are these old redwoods, or recent plants?

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