Andrzej
Sightings

Riding with Redbeard & Other Tall Tales

Bay Area, May 1996

Arrival...

Monday, I flew into San Francisco from Toronto, arriving rather tired from the early start and 5 hours in the air and decended on the (in)famous Redbeard himself (aka: John Herrel) at his desmenes at around 1:00 pm. Redbeard, being the perfect host, or having a raging thirst (the latter being the more likely), popped a few brews while we caught up on news, not having seen each other since the previous year. We called Willie LaLa and gave him a hard time about wanting to leave for a ride el pronto and caused him to get all hyper (gotta get a sense of humour there Will!)..sheesh...we hadn't even dented our brews at that point.

Once we had consumed a few cold ones and Will had arrived (finally ;-) )...Redbeard was most gracious in lending me a bike. Now given that I had just flown a few thousand miles to visit this old coot, you think he would have offered me the Dresser...but no....as we decended the stairs, he grunted, tossed me some grimy keys and pointed at a beat-up, rusty and dusty Yamahaha. Being the courteous guest that I am, I forced a wide smile of gratitude. She started hard, that little Yamahaha...but Redbeard assured me that it wasn't because the tank was full of nothing but fumes and definitely it had nothing to do with the fact that it hadn't been ridden in a few centuries or so....Anyhow...I was happy to be on two wheels rather than in a rented cage (Many thanks John...the favour will not be forgotten!) as we wound our way out past the GoldenGate park panhandle and picked up highway #1 down the coast. I could see that Redbeard on his Dresser with the stereo cranked (loud Jazz saves lives ya know!) and Willie on his Road Toad were having much fun at my expense...my lanky frame contorted to fit a bike designed for vertically challenged riders and the whine of the engine a sore contrast to the rumble of the two Harleys flanking me. Their mirth as I repeatedly stalled out the Yammie at lights was more than apparent (turns out ya gotta wind the sucker out to rather high revs before letting out the clutch...not much low end torque on this bike, unlike my Wide Glide back home....oh how I was missing my real ride.....).

Riding with Will and Redbeard on the coast

The day was sunny if a bit cool and the unique fishy smell of the ocean enveloped me as we three muskateers ran down to Pescadero along the coast. Did I care that I was on a Jap bike? Not a bit...it was super just to be on two wheels, the sun sparkling on the ocean, two good buddies at my side riding formation and providing the Harley rumble (albeit a bit second hand). I was back in LaLa Land....California( for the story of how I met Redbeard check out the LaLa Land Chronicles)...where Men are...well....ya never know what men are in the San Fran area, now do you? We stopped at a kewl bar for a brew and a bowl of chowder (the Campbell's canned stuff just don't taste the same back home for some strange reason), and to my embarassment, a grizzled hard-core-looking biker mentioned that the headlight was still burning on the Yamaha outside. Of course I had forgotten to switch it off. Seeing the serious leathers on this dude, I dreaded glimpsing his ride....a hot Ness bar-hopper? A chopped rat bike festooned with HA stickers? A nice Wide Glide (the choice of riders with serious taste and aesthetics)? Nope....it was a beater Jap bike that made the Yammie look like it had just come off the showroom floor. Many larfs as a result of that little escapade...but the road called, the battery was still up to the task of turning over the sewing machine powerplant, and so we beetled our way down the back routes over to pick up Skyline road. The ultimate biker road...twisties upon twisties. So here I am on a light 750 Virago....think I could keep up to that bloated, Queen Mary of a bike dresser that Redbeard was piloting through the curves? Not a chance in hell (I plead that I was on a strange bike in a cramped position...that's my story and I'm sticking to it!). Damn, that Redbeard can throw that ElectraGlide throught the curves!

After the joys of Skyline, we left Will to head off to another engagement leaving me to the evil ways of the Redbeard, who decided that my ride would not be complete without a 70 mph run up #280 into ferocious headwinds and blowing sand. I barely kept close enough, the poor Yamahaha engine whining a high pitch trying to make headway into the wind, to see John look back once in a while with a maniacal grin splattered all over his face...probably due to my predicament. Soon the torture ended and we pulled up to Calzones in the North Beach area where we met Cap'n Xaos (aka: Gary Weinekie). Turns out that Gary was there to celebrate Soraya's (his wife) birthday that day with a few martini's or more (she was not there for some reason...pity....she is much better looking that the Cap'n!). Gary proceeded to regale us with some gut-splittingly funny stories about how his Grandma had kept a whole LA SWAT team at bay one day with her trusty .357 Magnum. Guess the old gal wanted to make some noise and ruffled the feathers of the neighbours (but gee...she only put holes in the walls of her own place? Life's just not fair!). When the men in black finally broke down the door, they were greeted by the sight of Granny, asleep in her rocker, swaddled in a blanket with her curlers in her hair and pink fuzzy slippers on her feet. Quite the picture of a dangerous felon. Gotta hand it to her, she refused to tell 'em where she had hidden her revolver. Thank God for the 2nd Ammendment, eh? (huh? for you Yanquee's that don't understand Canuck-speak). We had a super time listening to Cap'n Xaos' outlandish stories, and then bid him farewell as we headed back to the Sunset district for a few more beers.

We ended up at a local Thai restaurant (must be one that Redbeard had not frequented recently as they provided us with a rather cordial reception), and quickly ordered as the kitchen was closing. The invisible Connie (Redbeards ATM Filler-Upper and long-suffering wife) joined us, having caught the bus from slaving late at the orifice (obviously to earn enough to pay for John's frivolous lifestyle). I swear that her face matched the red hue of Redbeard's Dresser when I asked her if she was responsible for all of the grey hair in John's unkempt beard. Guess I didn't upset her enough as she still paid the restaurant bill with a smile. Back to Johns, jetlagged, tired, and dusty he forced me to watch Letterman till late in the evening, his excuse being that Dave was broadcasting from somewhere in the Bay area, till finally he took pity on me and allowed me to hit the sack. (or maybe it was that I was falling asleep on the couch?).

Napa Nappies

Redbeard on the Golden Gate Bridge

A raging bellow to roust myself got me up at 9am...Redbeard was anxious to ride and terrorize some more innocents on the road. We crossed over the Golden Gate bridge (such a thrill every time...the locals just don't appreciate the romance of doing that) and we found the dreaded abode of Jon Marchand, despited Jon's best efforts to lead us astray with his directions. We could see the look of craven fear in Jon's eyes as he noticed us giving Jenny (his sweetie of an SO...how he attracted her I'll never know....maybe he offered her a house at a discount??) the once over....but we didn't stop at just once...she was too pretty for that! Unlike Jon, Jenny was a most gracious hostess, offering us coffee and cakes for which I was most grateful, since Redbeard did not think breakfast was the "real biker" thing to do that morn...the view was especially tantalizing every time she leaned over to fill our coffee cups (we drank lots and quickly at that....no fools these two!) garnering rather ominous looks from the man in the cast. We figured the cast on Jon's leg was just an elaborate ruse so that he would not have to admit to us that he really never rode his Geezer Glide when we asked him if he wanted to join our rape and pillage ride of that day. (Check out Jon's fearful rantings as a result of our visit at: the Original Andrzej Sighting). After and wink and a pinch to Jenny, we bid Jon farewell (much to his obvious relief) and continued our foray up the coast.

Lunch at Jerry's in Guerneville

The winding road past the beach was all fogged in, but cleared a bit further north as we rode up my favorite piece of coast up past Bodega Bay (the curse was lifted...we made it past the dreaded gas station without mishap this time) and turned inland at Jenner. It was so wonderful to again see the crashing surf, high cliffs and ride the twisty blacktop along that route. Running in the valley amongst the tall inland trees, we stopped at a place in Guerneville for a good lunch (hey...the beers were $1.50.....that's great in my books) before decending some long sweeping curves down into the Napa Valley. Zipping past the rather ostentateous Opus 1 Winery, sun beating down, my chilled body started to finally thaw from the cool coastal run (the Yammie had no windshield.....meanwhile Redbeard didn't ruffle a one of his Emeritus beard locks behind his monster fairing....wimp!). At John's urging, despite protestations that he never frequented Yuppie places of this nature (the maitre 'd called him by hame, albeit with a wince on his face...), we stopped at a roadside cafe for some real biker food: Creme Brule with Chardonay and Champagne Sabayon with a red desert wine. He may be biker scum, but that Redbeard sure knows where to find the good food and wine in Napa!

Arbor Riding with Redbeard in Napa

With our cholesterol levels replenished, we ran hard (against those damned headwinds again) back to SF and rolled into Dudley Perkin's HD just as the Fog Hog Dinner ride pulled out. Not being the shy types, we goosed the bikes, got in the front of the pack and made it a parade (we knew they had posted lookouts around the corner so that we could do this....). If you're gonna get run out of town, get in front, right? The restaurant was rather a Yuppie hangout, but the food was good and it was super visiting with my old Fog Hawg friends over a great meal. Unfortunately, no-one knew anything about the Stockton Poker run for the following day (organized group, eh?) and Boom-Boom was not to be seen anywhere (guess she was still at the Washbag). John and I finally straggled into the house sometime during the wee hours where I quickly packed my stuff and then we convoyed out to Santa Clara where I was due to help present some stuff at a software conference (this being a business trip....at least that was the excuse to get the expenses paid!). Really appreciated the company on the ride down as it was a long day and I really had no clue where I was going (what else is new?).

In trying to keep up to Redbeard on the Yamahaha I noticed a few things:

1) A squealing front brake can make you crazy real fast

2) The bike had funny knobbed grips. Very uncomfortable. I can only think that this is a San Fran thing...y'all need a lip on the end to keep your hand from slipping off at speed!

3) Those ricers get blown around a lot (not be be confused with being blown a lot on a Harley)

4) Very embarassing to rev the thing like a sewing machine so you don't stall when slipping the clutch. No low-end grunt to these beasts. But not as embarassing a stalling it in front of some CYT's!

5) Never thought I would call a 750 a "small" bike....

Redbeard in his glory

Bidding Redbeard farewell, I garnered some rather strange looks in the lobby of the conference centre.....wonder if it was the black leathers from head to toe? Not quite the image of a software consultant I suppose. One of my business colleagues was quite amazed to enter the room we were sharing to find my leathers, helmet and riding gear all strewn over the bed...they couldn't figure out if I had ridden in from Toronto or not. What followed where three intense days of software fixes, demos and schmoozing so I'll spare you the details and fast forward to the fun stuff....

Ciao Baby!

JW Jammin with friends

Called Becky Fenton at lunch and she mentioned that the famous JW (John Willie) was having a jam session athe the Cafe Ciao that night, so I packed the Yamahaha, ran back to SF to dump my stuff at Redbeard's, took Blitz (John's husky) for a walk in the panhandle (he was missing Redbeard and I was missing my huskies too.....besides, huskies are better "babe-magnets" than a Ricer any day!) and then went all the way back to Santa Clara. Followed Becky's directions to the letter, but should have know that Left is Right and vice versa in LaLa Land....finally asked some bouncers at a bar with a few Harleys parked out front and they directed me to the Cafe, where I had the dubious pleasure of finally meeting Becky, JW, Carl, Bob Creasy, Dr. Steve et al. Good music....that JW can really strum a guitar, but I have it on good authority that he has a PeeWee Herman brush cut under that wig of long locks.

Becky and I at Cafe Ciao

The tunes were super, with Bob's wife's guitar work exceeded only by her prettiness. No Alanis to be heard, but there was some Joan Osborne to make up for that lack. Grabbing a few beers and a cigar at the bar next door we yattered till well past midnight, making the ride back to SF a cold and dark one, to crash at Redbeard's house. Redbeard had made up some cockamamie story about having (just HAVING) to fly to Maui with Connie...something about needing some more greys in the beard he said, if I recall, so had left me the keys to his place. I would have rather joined them in Maui...but a place to sleep for the night was not to be sneezed at.

Murphy was an Optimist

Stockton HD

After receiving an early call from Will (huh....hello....do you know what TIME IT IS!), I was prevented from sleeping in and so got back on the road down to Denny's in Westborough. Only found a small group, including Annette, Mel and Ron ready to head out for the Stockton Poker Run and run to Murphy in the gold country. Down the highway a bit, on a brilliantly sunny day, we met up with Steve, Will and a bunch more for the ride out. a dozen gleaming, throaty Harleys and a Yamahaha. Talk about an inferiority complex! ;-) After a few mega-latte's to keep up our "Real Biker" image and to get the caffeine blast we needed to wake up a few distraught brain cells, we were off to Stockton for the official start of the run. Pulled in to the HD dealership there where I bought a few T's (gotta bring something back for the Danamania or I'm toast!) and registered for the Poker run. The day was getting positively hot and it felt wonderful to be able to ride in just a t-shirt for a change. I had hooked my RAD cap on the mirror....but the snap gave way and the last I saw of my hat, it was fluttering it's way across 6 lanes of interstate...damn....without the fur up top (being somewhat follically challenged...God made handsome men...and the rest he covered with hair!) I was dreading a bad Canuck burn on the ole' noggin before the day was done. Riding in perfect formation (a rare thing for may Hog chapters) we ran through the poker run checkpoints.

Good technique

Being a good visitor I thought we were supposed to drink lots of beer (the piss-weak 'mercain stuff) but the group I was with seemed more interested in lemonade...the ribs at one stop were just grand...sitting in the sun on the grass with greasy ribs in one hand and a cold brew in another. After borrowing some sunscreen and a bandana to keep the head from frying, we rolled into the picturesque town of Murphy.where hundreds of bikes lined the roads. Guess they knew I was coming and wanted to make a good impression on a furriner. We played tourist, watching the weinie bite (was that mustard or Dijon ketchup?), checked out the gift shops and finally ended up in a Taste of Paradise for lunch.

Murphy

Great burgs and super yoghurt drinks...highly recommended. The others made me share my drink with them.....very hospitable of them! We watched the testosterone displays ride by on outlandish customs with ear-shattering pipes for a while then wandered back down the street and sat admiring an old Indian with a suicide shift. Kewl bike. The group in the bandshell launched into a rather good rendition of Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water", topping off the afternoon perfectly (even if all the young riders though it was a new track). Will seemed occupied in taking innumerable photos of wimmin at the rally, but I can't say that Steve and I approved of his choices of photographic material...then again, he does ride a Toad King, so maybe that explains it.

Will, Steve, Moi and Annetta

Later in the afternoon, we wound our way out of town, through some great twisties that were much too short till we hit the plains, riding face-on into the heat of the setting sun. I could feel my skin starting to crisp from all the exposure to the California sun as we rode through the heat-haze towards San Fran. I signalled Will that I was running rather low on gas....but not a gas station was to be seen. 21 miles later, on reserve the whole way, the bike was starting to backfire as we finally found a station, none too soon. Much speculation ensued about the size of the Yammie tank as it had taken 3.12 gallons to fill it up. Will was certain it was a 4 gallon tank. (I checked in the manual when I got back to Redbeards...it was a 3.1...talk about running on fumes!). We told Annetta all about the Internet as it was a foreign concept to her and then got back on the road. Annetta peeled off after the Bay Bridge, where the cool air felt soothing on sun and windburned skin. The sun made a molten silver river that wove it's way under the GoldenGate bridge. At my behest, we ended up at Kam's for a serious feed of Gourment Chicken. Yum! Fellow pigs at the feast included Steve, Will and Chuck & Henry (who had joined us in town)...all washed down with gallons of green tea. Henry got me on the right road back towards Redbeard's place with the fog settling in and dropping the temperature substantially. Back at the house, I topped off the perfect day with a screening of the classic Easyriders movie till past midnight, at which time unconsciusness took over.

Bikin' with Becky

How I made it up at 8am I'll never know, but it took a long shower to finally peel the eyes open. Gave Becky a quick call to find that her 7 year old was "making her day" on Mommie's Day...ugh! The morning ride down 101 was relazing, crossing the Dunbarton Bridge past the salt marshes and the smell of brine in the air. Guess I've done all of the Bay Bridges on two wheels now...do I get a prize? This time, Becky figured she would give me good directions (unlike those to Ciao's) so finding her house was easy. Nice place. Terry's Shovel was a trick bike...burgundy/cream paint with a haunted solenoid. I passed around some pics of my place back home and my huskies. Becky's 3 year old asked "What's that mom?", pointing at one of the photos, to which Becky replied, "That's SNOW dear!". ROTFLMAO about that one still! And you say this ain't called LaLaLand! <grins>.

Becky on Mother's Day

I felt guilty for dragging Becky away from her family on Mother's Day to tour a crazy Canuck around her neck of the woods but she took it all with good graces (and I think she appreciated the day off to ride since Terry had offered to stay with the kiddies)...so off we went down the striking Canyon road. At one point I stopped in amazement...it was SNOWING! In May in California....but then realized it was the Dogwood trees shedding....what a gorgeous sight that was. It was a lovely day, and riding with Becky (she was on her Sporty and a nice one at that), was great.....decided lack of testosterone so I could play tourist and enjoy the delightful scenery as it slipped by us. Stopped by Dorothy's, an old time biker bar, where lots of colours were in evidence, helping reset up the bar after some earlier troubles. Great chatting with the boys, before we scooted uo the hills. I tried to take a shot of Becky in the lead, but the batteries fell out of the camera into my lap (youza...serious power...they were energizers...not that I need 'em you understand). How I didn't lose the batteries I'll never know. We rounded some wide swooping turns where I got some good action pics of Becky, out past Livermore Labs. Didn't see any electrons being smashed though. Pity.

Windmills

The wind generators I had seen so oftern on 580 the previous year were actually spinning so of course we had to stop for the requisit photo op. We took a loop that was strewn with gravel and potholes. A Honda Goldwing was all over the road in front of us....definitely an inexperienced rider (we figured he'ld be road kill pretty soon riding like that) so we passed at the first safe opportunity past the Mountain Bar...oooops....had to turn around and go back. Can't pass a biker bar without paying your respects...it just wouldn't look good. A couple of cold beer went down real smooth as we chatted with some folks in the garden area, where I showed off my pics of Pepper riding my Harley back home. Husky Power!

Moi at the Mountain House Bar

We were running rather late (Becky was having a BBQ party at her place) and we didn't want to impose on Terry's goodwill overly much so we opted to boot back on 580 rather than take a slower scenic route. Part way home, we spotted a 4cylinder Honda broken down on the road so we stopped to render assistance. Bike was dead and wouldn't start, so I called a buddy of the riders to come and get him (cell phones can be useful....guess he didn't mind the yuppie rider that stopped to help) and made sure he would be OK before resuming the ride home. Guess I scored a few points with the biker Gods for that one.....Ducking through town, I was unable to convince Becky that we should stop for one last beer <sigh>....just cause it was 3:30pm and her party was due to start at 3pm was not a good reason to forgo the neat bars.....I tried to reassure her that all would be under control by the time we would arrive (and that way she would excape the duty of setting up the food too!), but to no avail. Then I mentioned that her chain was making a terrible racket....running way too loose, and that maybe we should stop and check it out and have a drink too while we where there. But my thirsty pleas fell on deaf ears.

Ellen, George, Cuda, Terry, Moi, Becky, Carl, JW, Mike

As I had thought, we pulled in to find a full crowd, the party already in full swing. Cuda was there with her hubby Mike Menard (I like Vicki despite the fact that her hair is the same brilliant red that my ex's was.....scary thought that! ;-) ) along with JW, Carl, Ken, George and Ellen, and Scottie (with his wet-T winning friend.....who declined to do an instant replay for us for some unknown reason...could it be the drool on our chins...naw....couldn't have been that). The ribs were delicious and I swear they were cut from a Brontosaurus they were so huge. The wiener dog limped by dragging a bone that was bigger than he was. Passed around some of my MITM photos and pics of the Danamania (for those that were curious) and alas it was soon time for me to leave. Good people and a great party. I shall always be grateful for the Mother's Day ride that Becky too me on that day. Reluctantly, I saddled up, started up the sewing machine motor and ran back across the bridge with more dogwood "snow" drifting in the late afternoon sun and foam splashing up on the beach. The sunset ride back to SF was stunning, but I had to boogie to get ready to catch my plane. Grabbed my stuff at Redbeards....watered the plants and animals...walked Blitz and put the bike back in the garage before catching a shuttle back to the airport. Gave my Mom a call to wish her a happy Mother's Day to find that it was freezing in Toronto with a few snow flurries! Ugh! I wanna stay in LaLa Land.....Waaaaahhhhhhhh!

At the airport bar, waiting for the flight, I reminised over a pint of Anchor Steam draft...about friends old and new...some great rides and warm sunshine and looked forward to doing it all again later this summer on my own Dyna en route from Sturgis.....but then again...that is another ride and another story of 10,000 miles and 4 weeks on a Harley....

Thanks to all for a great visit, but especially to Redbeard for lending me his spare bike and house and Becky for Mother's Day!

Return to Sightings Home

Last modified on October 24, 2001

The use of any e-mail addresses contained within this site for the purposes of sending unsolicited advertising of any form is specifically prohibited. Receipt of such e-mail will be billed to the sender at Chaeron's then prevailing rate, and receipt of such e-mail will consitute unconditional acceptance of these terms and financial liabilities by the sender. The inclusion of any e-mail addresses contained in this site in mailing lists without the express approval, in writing, of Chaeron Consulting Corporation is also prohibited. Violators of these terms will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.