~ Ride Free ~

The BLM Laguna Mountain, Upper Sweetwater is a great camping spot on my way to the Hollister motorcycle rally over this fourth of July weekend.  It is just north/west of Coalinga and sits on a lonely country road called Los Gatos Creek Road, and later simply Coalinga Road. 

You may see a bobcat or wild pigs in the area.  Today, there is a nice buck looking at me from the shadows of a big blue oak as I pass by.  Once near dark, a herd of wild pigs startled me around a corner, as they ran wildly passed my motorcycle.  Today, there is ample sun to get me safely to my first night camp.  In front of me, there is a potential new camp called Condon Peak.  It sits high on the mountain and the cool breeze will be a relief to the hot sun.  It is run by BLM, has a table, roof shelter, and fire pit.  There is basic restroom nearby.  This looks like a good spot, and I gather some firewood and settle into this camp.  Tomorrow, I ride by Pinnacles National Park and then onto Hollister for the rally.

There are many motorcycles that pass by and that seems odd as this is normally a pretty lonely road.  There seem to be more vehicles coming by on the Coalinga Road as well.  Must all be going to the rally I tell myself.  There is no cell reception and Denise knows by now not to worry unless she doesn't hear from me in two days, sometimes three depending upon the area.  My transistor radio picks up a nice country western station from San Jose while I rig my hammock between the two metal posts at the simple yet comfortable BLM shelter.

It is not a big fire but it is perfect to heat up my can of beef stew for dinner.  My brother Gilbert suggested that we always pack a can of stew in our saddle bags just in case.  Denise gave me some gourmet beef jerky that is very good.  I'll save most of it for later.  The three liters of water will keep me hydrated and what is left over in the morning will be used to put out my morning cooking fire.

This is a perfect time to think about my new relationship with RoadRUNNER Magazine.  They are publishing some of my stories in a chronicle called, In Pursuit of Wildness, featuring our National Parks.  My decision to move forward with RoadRUNNER was easy.  They produce a quality, professional motorcycle magazine with awesome stories.  They print a paper magazine, as well as a digital on-line version.  I am impressed with the quality of their articles, and their mantra "Read, Discover, Ride" agrees with me.  Since my adult life has revolved around the National Parks and I love to ride motorcycles, this a good fit for me.  My first article, which appears in their July/August edition, focuses on the National Park Service's 100th anniversary which is on August 25, 2016.  I am proud to be a part of these celebrations along with them.  I feel that the past 100 years of the National Park is important but the next 100 years will be most important, teaching our children the value of preserving and protecting nature, keeping our National Park alive and well, and for me, all in the pursuit of wildness. 

It was very hot when I arrived and the cool breeze felt good but now that the sun is down, there is a colder bite to the air.  Later in the night, it gets plain cold as I crawl deeper into my sleeping bag.  In the morning, my plan is to stop briefly at Pinnacles National Park and get a campsite, before riding past Paicines, Tres Pinos, and then San Benito Street for the annual Hollister Rally.

Bikers on Highway 25 heading towards Pinnacles National Park and Hollister, CA

The ranger at the Pinnacles National Park tells me that all the campsites are full.  There is smoke in the air and she tells me that Highway 25 and 198 are closed due to a large, uncontained fire.  That is my usual route which explains why I saw so many motorcycles and cars taking the slow short cut road called the Los Gatos Creek/Coalinga Road.  I was planning to return home that way but that will change.

The peaceful road from Pinnacles National Park to Hollister is so enjoyable.  There are horses and cows grazing in the fields and wave from a rancher tending cattle on his ATV tells me that I'm home.  There must be a small airport near Tres Pinos because directly above me is a hang-glider making big turns in the sky.  There are now many bikers in the area.  Tres Pinos which is a dot on the map has bikers at every establishment, and there aren't many.  The number of bikers increases as I approach Hollister.  Off to my right is Hazel Hawkins Hospital where our son, Keith was born; now that brings back a flood of memories.

San Benito Street is closed to cars and lined with thousands of motorcycles packed tightly like sardines.  There is every type of motorcycle here and finding a spot to park is a challenge.  I make a few turns off the main drag, find a side street, park my bike, and walk to the center of town.


There is music, barbecues, and all sorts of vendors.  This year I buy a simple t-shirt that catches my attention.  The GEICO booth is handing out free stuff, so I get a pair of sunglasses, chap stick, and a handkerchief.   All useful items when riding a motorcycle.  It is fun to people watch and I suspect that most of the bikers are on a day ride as I do not see any camping gear strapped on their bikes.

Everyone seems to be in good spirits and there is an ample presence of security.

Johnny's is a central point and on the outside wall is a large mural with Marlon Brando and two easy riders from the past.  It is a popular spot and many are getting their picture taken.  

I do the same and then a group of bikers stands in front of the wall for their picture.  They are members of a motorcycle club called the Buffalo MC Soldiers.  The Buffalo Soldiers played an important role in the care of Sequoia National Park in its early years.  These riders proudly display their vests and I like that they chose this way to honor these early American heroes.

Some cool looking bikers in front of Johnny's ~ Buffalo MC Soldiers

There is an Indian dealership on the north end of town that I want to visit.  I did not know it earlier but they are offering free test rides on any of their Indian and Victory motorcycles.  "How is this done," I ask.  "Just provide your driver's license, sign a waiver, and place your helmet on the bike you want to ride."  He continues, "There will be a lead rider in the front and a chaser rider in the back that will take you and four or five others on a five-mile ride."  They are organized and made this a highlight of my trip.  I chose to ride the 2016 Indian Springfield and we rode in a safe, staggered formation.  Half joking, I tell one of the organizers as I pull up, "Sure would be nice to ride this home, thanks, that was fun."  He nods, likely having heard the comment before.  There was absolutely no sales pitch, they offered free water, and the opportunity to ride any other motorcycle as many times as we wanted.  Impressive.

Test riding a 2016 Indian Springfield

In the excitement of riding the Indian motorcycle, I forgot about lunch and it is almost dinner time.  On one of those side streets, I remember seeing a Mexican restaurant so I return and have some Chile Verde and tasty posole. 

It is much cooler now and my decision is to head back to Three Rivers via Highway 152.  There is a large highway marquee ahead - "severe winds over Pacheco Pass."  The wind will be blowing against my back and that will be a relief.  Any biker knows riding into a strong wind is work and a drain on fuel economy.  Even with the wind at my back, I brace myself around turns taking nothing for granted.  Almost as soon as I reach the bottom of the pass, the coolness is replaced by the valley heat.  I stop for some water to cool me down.  There are many bikers on this road as well.  At times, I'm riding alone and then a group of bikers catches up to me and I tag along.  American flags are waving wildly on many of the motorcycles as they pass by.

Again on this fourth of July, my American flag waves on my motorcycle too.  

This ride, for me, is special.  It was only 399.7 miles but I get some quality time, returning to Pinnacles National Park and Hollister to celebrate our Nation's Independence. 

Happy 4th of July America

~ Willow Creek Cemetery ~

“I went to the wilderness to confront the basic of life to be sure that when I died I would not regret living” ~ Henry David Thoreau.

This old cemetery was established in 1877.

It has such a Western sound to its name, a fitting resting place for a good friend.

The historic Willow Creek Cemetery is located a hundred yards off the Airline Highway, Route 25.  

I must have gone by the Willow Creek Road a thousand times and never known the cemetery existed until today.  The cemetery, established in 1877, is about 5 miles south of Paicines, California.

The weather lately has been spring-like and perfect for riding a motorcycle.  But today, the rain clouds have moved back into California, and my rain gear is on me even before I leave the house. 

The ceremonies start at 1 p.m., and the Pinnacles are a good 4 hours from Three Rivers.  

Normally, my ride takes me on scenic Highway 198, past Coalinga, and then north on Highway 25 to the Pinnacles.  I stop for gas at Harris Ranch, and because of the steady rain, decide to take Interstate 5 heading north.  "It will save you some time," I tell him.  Years ago, I left Paicines on a remote country road called Little Panoche Road, which connects to Interstate 5.  Yep, this is the route I'll take.  It will save me 30 minutes, and I must arrive at the cemetery by 1 p.m.

The rain is fierce, and the traffic seems to be going 100 mph despite the downpour.  There ahead of me is a motor home going slower.  I figure it is safer behind a slower vehicle, even if I catch more rain.  A few times, my bike hydroplanes, which is so nerve-wracking.  Finally, the off-ramp for Little Panoche Road is up ahead.  It will take me to Paicines.  The rain is still coming down, but this country road is heaven in comparison to the insane interstate.  The cows are everywhere, eating tall green grass.  I do not see another vehicle on this isolated road.

The rain has stopped.  I'm about two miles from Paicines, and the brief sun will help dry me out.  The Willow Creek Cemetery isn't far, a bit further south, and I'll be there in time.  The easy-going woodland hillsides, cows, and open land agree with me. 

A bit more relaxed, I reminisce.

We both worked early in our careers for the National Park Service at a little place called Pinnacles National Monument.  He was in Maintenance, and I was in Administration, but at a little place like Pinnacles, organizational lines are easily blurred.  Everyone did everything.  Your first job is always important, memory-wise.  But the group of people there becomes lifelong friends. 

When I first met him, I liked him.  

He was a cowboy at heart, a hard worker, an excellent hunter, and loved to barbeque.  

"Bob, have you ever eaten wild boar?" he asked.  "Come by the house and have some."  He lived in a small house, just off San Benito Lateral.  It was a beautiful area, and just a bit further down the road was the Bar SZ Ranch, where hundreds of horses grazed.  His good friend Jim Shields lived nearby on his ranch.  

"I got this pig, just up that canyon," he points with his hand.  Denise and I loved the meal, the setting, and his company.  Later, he would invite me to a cattle branding on John Shields' ranch, a neighbor, and Jim's dad.  He was very good on a horse, and I helped them where I could.

His career with the National Park Service would take him to Everglades National Park where I heard he did a great job.  "The mosquitoes were unreal," he once told me "so I had to look elsewhere for work."  That elsewhere became Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks where we met up again.  Now, he wasn't riding horses much but Harley-Davidson motorcycles.  Eventually, he bought a house in Three Rivers and lived less than 1/2 mile from us.

"Retirement is great, Bob, you're going to love it."  Although we never did ride motorcycles together, he was one of the first to see my new Yamaha Road Star.  He rode his bike to Sturgis one year, and with some help, he pointed me there well.  

Oh yes, a cowboy, a hard worker, a hunter, a great cook, and a biker.  There is one more thing to add, a rock climber.  You'd never know, but he helped our Mountain Climbing Search and Rescue Team at Pinnacles and successfully climbed the Elephant.

That's what I'm thinking about as I approach the Willow Creek Cemetery. 

His daughter Mary welcomes me.  I tell her that your mom and dad took us to dinner in Tres Pinos when we first got to Pinnacles in 1971.  She was about 1 year old at the time.  It is 12:30 p.m., so my decision to take the Panoche Road worked.

Friends, Willow Creek Cemetery.

There are many local people here today, as well as some retired National Park Service employees.  Many wear cowboy hats, boots, looking like they had just come from working in the fields.  

I am impressed with the words spoken, first by his daughter Mary, and then by his younger brother Richard, and then older brother Ken. 

Mary was emotional, but her words came out nonetheless.  "In the final days of his life, he requested two things," she said tearfully.  

"Bury me next to my friend, Jim Shields."

"First, he wanted me to see if he could be buried at the Willow Creek Cemetery.  And second, if permission was granted, he asked to be buried next to his friend, Jim Shields."  

Mary approached the Willow Creek Cemetery Caretaker with his sincere request.  

Approved.  

She then told her dad that his requests had been granted.  "That put a big smile on his face," Mary said. 

The ceremony was simple yet powerful.

Mary continued.  "Once he knew where he would rest," he said, "Have several bottles of my fine whiskey, pour everyone a shot, and have a toast."

With our shots in hand, one cowboy asked if he could make the toast, and his words tearfully faded ... 

"To our good friend Gary Bornholdt"

Gary J. Bornholdt 
July 29, 1942 - May 28, 2015.

Peaceful, Willow Creek Cemetery in the foothills.

My iron horse is approaching the Willow Creek Cemetery.
I stopped to say a silent prayer.

Pinnacles National Park.
When we worked there, it was Pinnacles National Monument.

High Peaks Trail ~ Pinnacles National Park.
Gary hiked these trails frequently.