Riding In The Shadow Of Giants On California’s Redwood Coast

[Advpulse]

With the year’s most intense heat wave looming on the horizon, the thought of escaping to California’s Redwood Coast for a weekend adventure became insatiable. There’s a unique freedom that comes with riding out of the sweltering heat, feeling the temperature drop with every mile closer to the ocean. The cool wind pushing through my gear only added to the anticipation of reaching the California Coast where crisp, refreshing air and the shade of towering redwoods would soon replace the scorching, almost desert-like environment of the Central Valley.

After hours of battling oppressive temperatures, I was grateful to find myself suddenly surrounded by epic redwoods and stunning serpentine roads. The escape to the cool Northern California coast felt surreal, as if the blazing heat wave gripping the rest of the country had no place here. Calling the 50-degree temperature swing a relief would be the understatement of the century.

After hours of battling oppressive temperatures, I was grateful to find myself suddenly surrounded by epic redwoods and stunning serpentine roads. The escape to the cool Northern California coast felt surreal, as if the blazing heat wave gripping the rest of the country had no place here. Calling the 50-degree temperature swing a relief would be the understatement of the century.

Little did I know, triple digit temps would be the least of my concern on what would have otherwise been a day whose sole purpose was to reach the “start” of a multi-day adventure ride along California’s magnificent North Coast. I often make it a point to pack everything a day or two ahead and take the bike out on a test rip just to ensure everything is dialed in but a last minute change of shoes on my Aprilia Tuareg meant I was behind schedule.

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Within the first few miles I could tell something was a bit off in my bike’s handling, but I pressed on for fear of running late, making sure to compensate with exaggerated body position to keep the bike from feeling as though it wanted to fall over mid turn. Having never ridden on these Dunlop Trailmax Raids before, I wasn’t sure how they were supposed to feel. Note to self; if you feel like something isn’t right, stop and check. I’d later realize that my hunch was dead on, and my failure to observe this “early warning” could have been a fatal mistake. 

By 9am I had largely made it to the other side of the Central Valley, but it mattered not as construction along Highway 36 meant I was doing a lot of sitting and waiting, each stop more brutal than the last as the mercury would continue to rise and I was forced to remain stationary in gear better suited for Winter riding. On our last summer adventure along this same Northern California coastline we were relentlessly drenched with rain, so trying out Leatt’s new DriTour ‘wet weather’ adventure suit seemed like a solid choice. With clear skies and the sun beating down ever harder on me, I was now starting to regret that decision.  Just as I was ready to remove my jacket in this slow moving traffic, the air mercifully began to cool.

As I reached the aptly named Pacific Crest Highway, I sent a text to those I’d be joining to see roughly where everyone was. A lack of cell signal meant we played a rather frustrating game of text tag with my riding companions ADV Pulse Editor Rob Dabney and Contributor Mike Massucco. We finally managed to converge our trajectories in the shoreline town of Crescent City for lunch.  It was there that they identified the cause of my bike’s ambiguity in the twisties. As it turned out, I had just ridden 370 miles with zero psi in my brand new front Dunlop TrailMax Raid. If that’s not a testament to a tire being stout, I’m not sure what else is. Apart from what I’m sure amounts to a smidge of premature wear, the bead remained seated and rim protected. After seeing no signs of a puncture, a splash of air had me good to go for the remainder of the trip — though I’ll admit, paranoia about a slow leak plagued me. In hindsight, I concluded that in the mad dash of prepping the night before, I blasted the tire on with the valve stem core removed to get my bead to seat, only to forget to air it back up once I reinstalled it.

In my haste to leave, I forgot to air up the new front tire I had just installed. Somehow this Dunlop Trailmax Raid held up for 370 miles with zero psi.

We shared a few laughs at my evident absent mindedness, stocked up on goods at the local grocery mart, and set off further North. Rob, who showed up on another Aprilia Tuareg 660, led the way. I also noticed he was testing Leatt’s new FlowTour mesh-paneled adventure suit, designed for warmer weather, which would have been nice during that first leg of my journey.

It wasn’t long before we were carving through a canyon shaded by towering Sequoia Sempervirens – more commonly known as Coast Redwoods. As we enjoyed leaning the bikes deep through countless s-turns, I was now finally experiencing how these Dunlops are supposed to feel. With each mile that passed driving inland though, the temperature rose by at least 3 degrees. Soon those 50° F temps on the coast were a distant memory. Suddenly I was back to feeling the heat build up inside a shell designed to keep moisture out and warmth in. Luckily, the jacket has chest vents and a large vent panel on the back that kept the air flowing at speed.

Just as we began to flirt with triple digit temperatures, our journey turned off pavement and began meandering through a dense forest of various hardwood trees. Not long after, the path looped around and revealed an absolutely stunning stretch of creek to camp alongside and cool off in — one we would have all to ourselves if not for the apparently dilapidated and abandoned RV parked further up the road. For the remainder of the evening, a few jokes passed through our camp talks regarding the deranged codger who almost certainly inhabited it, but the night revealed nothing but the soothing sound of flowing water.

This stunning stretch of creek with no one around made for the perfect campsite, if you could ignore the creepy, abandoned camper parked about 100 yards away — one that looked like it could evoke one of those “let’s go check it out” moments in an 80s horror flick.

Escape To Ship Mountain

Daybreak brought a rapid departure as we were intent on getting ahead of the heat as quick as possible. With the thought of cooler temps at higher elevation, we quickly rode from around 1000 feet to up above 5000. Numerous burn scars in the area allowed for extensive views along the ridges, but the morning pace on these fabulous gravel tracks and the impressive grip of my newly-installed tires while dirt tracking our way up the mountain quickly overshadowed any urge to stop and check out the scenery.

Though the gravel road was not technical, a few tricky spots revealed themselves on detours we explored off the main track, as well as the ascent and subsequent descent up to Ship Mountain Lookout. By far the newest lookout I’ve visited, this one offers incredible panoramic views of the region, and lucky for us we had clear weather with which to gaze out from.

As we continued back down the mountain, the track went from gravel to an old, seldomly used single lane wide paved mountain road – perfect for a bit of trail for a pair of athletic middleweight adventure bikes. Throttle tubes twisted, we meandered towards the Smith River, slowing at the end to check out a few campsites before getting back on pavement. This may have led to a Benny Hill-esque state of confusion where we went back and forth, embarrassingly trying to figure out how we lost our ride leader, which ended many miles down the road once we all acquired enough signal to communicate with one another, luckily just in time to enjoy riding dirt under awe inspiring redwoods in Jedediah Smith State Park.

The Grove Of Titans

When I first moved to California years ago, an obsession with nature led me to this mysterious place called “The Grove of Titans.” At the time, the exact location was undisclosed and all but a small group of scientists and researchers were excluded from knowing how to reach the grove. Nowadays though, a minimally intrusive path has been created by the parks service into one of the most scenic parts of this absolutely stunning redwood grove. The roughly 3-mile trail can be hiked as a loop or an out and back depending on how keen you are on trudging through the forest in riding gear, but the mild climate and the comfortable Leatt adventure boots I was wearing helped to make it an enjoyable experience.

Expect a few steep climbs, some sidestepping and crouching as you explore this grove, efforts that are rewarded by surrounding oneself with some of the largest trees in the world. The Lost Monarch, Del Norte Titan, Screaming Titans, to name just a few, are all closely towering near one another, making this one of the most accessible means of experiencing a handful of the top 10 largest redwoods that exist.

With daylight quickly waning, we sped South towards Klamath. On the way there’s a number of roadside attractions; one of the more prominent being the Trees of Mystery stop. It’s fairly obvious as they’ve got a massive animatronic Paul Bunyan standing out front beside his trusty companion Babe, the blue Ox. South of there lies the beautiful Klamath River’s mouth where we’d end up for the evening, but not before looping around Flint Ridge on the Coastal Drive trail, and then heading further South still, to Redwood National Park’s Fern Canyon.

Fern Canyon

It’s a difficult task to describe these places without comparing them to the various bits of pop culture famed for using their scenery heavily – films like the Star Wars franchise, especially when depicting Endor, for example. Fern Canyon is no exception though, given a few striking scenes in Jurassic Park. One particularly notable scene involves a group of small dinosaurs slowly picking at a character, before the camera pans away to reveal the creek turning red. Gratefully, the real thing is far less intimidating, but wow is it stunning. 

Being able to ride a couple hours from my doorstep to places like this are precisely why I adore where I live but something about the thick greenery scaling the canyon’s walls as water filters through all of the numerous fronds and patches of moss make Fern Canyon easily one of the most otherworldly places California has to offer. Weary from a long day with a handful of hikes, and lots of miles navigating back and forth, we took a short ride back North to our camp along the Klamath River for the night.

Scenes of coastal California are often noted by steep, ragged cliffs being pounded by the ocean, usually with tall redwoods nearby. One thing that isn’t often featured though, are large meadows filled with Roosevelt Elk. Lucky for us, this is exactly what greeted us at the onset of our third day on the road. Elk Prairie is worth a stop if you are passing through, as is the entirety of the Newton Drury Scenic Parkway. Arriving in the early morning hours will greatly increase the likelihood of seeing a large group of these magnificent (and potentially dangerous) animals up close too.

Having won the wildlife sighting lottery, we pulled in to find a large herd of Roosevelt Bulls grazing in the morning’s early hours. We were rewarded with this sight after stopping for brief visits to the Corkscrew Tree and aptly named Big Tree, both requiring short walks to witness first hand their magnificence.

Making good use of the last remaining part of our morning, we scooted through Orick, California and on to Bald Hills Road. This well known stretch connecting the coast to the Hoopa Valley Reservation was only recently paved, but despite this it still provides a seldomly trafficked, and entertaining way of going between the ocean and the inner part of California. The nine switchbacks down to Martins Ferry and stunning rolling hills (that are frequented by Elk) overlooking the Redwoods below are just one of many hidden gems in Northern California. 

Lady Bird Johnson Grove

A few miles into the ride, we made a stop at Lady Bird Johnson Grove though, for a more prolonged view of the Redwoods. Hiking this forest is one of the most convenient ways to experience the magnitude of these giants as the grove is large and filled with massive slabs of redwood, stemming hundreds of feet into the air. This relatively short and easy 1.5-mile loop will undoubtedly sate your appetite for tall trees, and if it doesn’t, further down the road one can detour off towards the famed “Tall Trees Grove.” While we didn’t make it there on this trip, this grove contains the tallest trees on earth, including the Hyperion Tree (380ft tall) and other super tall redwoods, though the location of those specific trees isn’t disclosed by the parks to prevent damage to the area’s sensitive ecosystem. This is probably a good time to mention that staying the trail here amongst the redwoods is the best way to ensure they endure for many lifetimes beyond our own.

With the day’s temperatures quickly increasing, we suited back up and began blasting up Bald Hills. At the summit sits a lookout tower, though each time I’ve been, the tower was closed to the public, leaving it as little more than a point of interest to be seen from afar. About 20 miles past Lady Bird Johnson Grove, we turned off onto French Camp Road. On this otherwise stunning forest road, we quickly lost 2,000 feet of elevation. By the time we reached the bottom, it was above 100° F, a temperature I had hoped I wouldn’t encounter again until my ride home, and combined with a light breakfast and some semi-technical terrain, I began to experience the early effects of heat stroke. Frustratedly, I pressed on until Rob, unfazed in his mesh gear, noticed my condition and rather forcibly insisted we take a break down in the nearby Pine Creek. At the time I simply wanted to continue on so as to escape the heat, but his insistence was for the best.

Stopping to drench myself in this ice cold ribbon of salvation was objectively the best thing I could have done at the time, and after soaking for a cool 15-20 minutes, all of the previous weight and brain fog had been lifted. We took the time to refill our water (I had gone through a couple liters already) before loading back up to continue riding the next 22 miles of track, and though the heat quickly returned, the second wind was all I needed to push through and begin enjoying this glorious stretch of gravel road.

From Pine Creek, the track quickly ascended to nearly 4,000 feet though the change in altitude, unfortunately, offered little relief from the temperatures. Still, the way up finally gave me an opportunity to become more acquainted with the TrailMax Raids. Here, over loose gravel, often covered in a thick layer of dead foliage, they worked tirelessly to put a huge grin on my face. I found the Tuareg comfortably clawing its way both up and back down the constantly changing elevations along the way, and in the still looser high speed stuff, while we raced toward freedom in the form of a paved road that would inevitably take us back to temperatures under 60° Fahrenheit along the coast.

Table Bluff

Eureka is a town that should be taken advantage of as you pass through. Given that suitable places to resupply are few and far between along this stretch of coastline, Eureka is in a perfect spot situated roughly halfway between Fort Bragg and Crescent City, and has objectively more service and amenities available to those passing through. We had one more stop after the required refueling, and that was an area just beyond the City, a stretch of park land sat right on the coast; And man was it a doozy. 

By this time my cohorts were complaining of the chill finding its way into their gear, and for once I was the one having the last laugh. It became colder still as we rode across the Table Bluff Reservation and down to the coastline. Famished from the day’s earlier riding, we decided to ride out onto the beach to enjoy a little picnic. When we arrived, we set off into the sand on the beach access route, though our progress was quickly halted by a local whose 4×4 truck was stuck attempting to come back up the tight lane between a field of massive hunks of driftwood, much of it from the neighboring Redwood groves. This was probably for the best though; the dry, bottomless sand would have been a bit more than a chore to ride up on loaded adventure bikes, so we found a few stumps to sit on and filled our faces to the sounds of the ocean, watching the waves slowly erode away the coastline.

Our progress was quickly halted by a local whose 4×4 truck got stuck while exiting the beach.

Not long after we arrived, the marine layer moved in, paired with the general weariness among us all having previously ridden through some of the hottest weather any of us had experienced in recent memory, we were tired and ready to enjoy a comfortable place to camp for the night. One difficulty that comes with these sorts of adventures is we rarely if ever known where we’ll be on any given night, making reservations pointless, so we frequently struggle at the last minute seeking out a place to set up camp. This day was no different. After deciding on taking our chances at Grizzly Creek Redwoods campground, we quickly set off. To save time, I rode ahead while the rest of the crew stocked up on supplies for the night ahead. This was a good idea as I soon discovered that Grizzly Creek Redwoods was booked up for the night. I made it back to the service station in the time it took the gents to finish their stock run in Hydesville, to break the news. This gave me an opportunity to fuel up as well, before coming up with a new plan, one that ended up being near enough to perfect.

Not Your Typical RV Park

Personally, I’m a backcountry camping sort of guy, but even I’ll admit having a shower and flush toilets from time to time is a luxury I rather enjoy. Further down 101 we stumbled upon an RV Park in the town of Stafford. Now I usually cringe at those words, but this little hovel a short drive off of 101 has easily one of the best tent camping areas I’ve seen at a private campground. We rode in following the signs to our assigned site only to find that the tent camping area was immersed into a small grove of Redwoods, completely separated from the usually bustling, noisy RV area. We had the entire tent camping area pretty much to ourselves and easily found level, soft ground to stake out our tents. Scavenging for firewood is encouraged in this park. It didn’t take long for us to hunker down for a long evening of chatter, a bit of liquid refreshment, and laughter under the glow of a warm campfire.

Waking up early to the sound of a few Stellar’s Jays screeching the dawn chorus isn’t exactly something written into story books, but it’s exactly what rose us from the depths on what would be our last day of riding. 

Our day began innocently enough, cruising down 101 — Rob and I taking advantage of the Tuareg’s cruise control, rising and falling with the huge stretches of slightly curved super slab. A couple of years ago, during a particularly soggy trip along the glorious Lost Coast, we decided to save some time by exiting the region through Humboldt Redwoods State Park.

With its massive redwoods looming over the narrow edges of Mattole Road, Humboldt Redwoods is one of those places that has to be experienced firsthand to truly appreciate. Since we were already nearby, and because Humbdolt is famed for dense redwood groves, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a brief detour.

Into The Maze

As we slowly navigated the winding road, this otherworldly place played a swan song in the form of truly mystical scenery. Grand, ancient trees stretch endlessly into the sky, their colossal trunks forming a thick, natural cathedral above. Beams of filtered light pass through to illuminate small patches of ferns, lichens, and moss that dot the forest floor with a splash of color, contrasting sharply against the reds and earthen browns that fill everything in between. It’s easy enough to experience a sensory overload with the scenery, purring engines, and strong smells of earth and pine mixing together inside your helmet. It was here that a sign for Big Trees Day-use Area caught my gaze.

The Big Trees area is a maze of trails, some crossing natural bridges formed by fallen redwoods, all of them winding through a forest of monumental trees. As we sat in awe beneath the aptly named ‘Big Tree,’ memories of our prior adventure of type-2 fun along the coast came flooding back. The contrast with that rainy trip made us feel all the more fortunate this time, despite the heat. After spending a few more moments with these ancient giants, we hiked back across Bull Creek, pausing to count small trout in the water before continuing our journey deeper into the forest.

We continued South all the way to Alderpoint Road in Garberville. This tight, winding stretch of road quickly rises out of the town where it gains 2,000 feet in just a few short miles, leaving the rider with panoramic views back down toward the valley below. There’s a few ways to go from here, but on this trip we decided to take Bell Springs, and was it worth it.

Bell Springs Road is a partly paved ridge road that connects Alderpoint to Bell Springs, two relatively forgettable places these days, though the former once served as a busy stagecoach stop in what is now nothing more than a POI on the map. Here, over a half a mile above the Pacific, the trip allowed for one last hurrah of flowy gravel track for us to enjoy. With 38 miles of perfectly graded, loose gravel roads, we were given a playground to enjoy over this remaining stretch; each bend and crest allowing for an opportunity to crack the throttle, sliding the rear end of the bike through to the next turn. You really can’t ask for better forest roads than these, especially given the epic views of California’s golden hills that met us with each corner. And just as quickly as we stumbled upon it, the gravel was gone. 

The Final Stretch

We continued on 101, backtracking slightly to reach Leggett and the famed Pacific Coast Highway. With the road between 101 and the coast freshly paved, Rob and I found ourselves enjoying a bit of a shootout as we tried to find the limits of our 40% street / 60% dirt adventure tires. As if the incredible Bell Springs road wasn’t enough of a salute, this stretch of road stood before us, descending thousands of feet to reach the ocean, and with very little traffic along the way, we were given a golden opportunity to open the bikes up one final time. 

We erased the 15-mile stretch of pavement at a rate I probably shouldn’t mention, suffice it to say that the tires did more than their fair share of work to keep us grounded, despite countless instances of scraped pegs, and unintentional power wheelies. Soon though, the thick forests give way to expansive views of the world’s largest ocean and with it, numerous coves and beaches. It was here at Blues Beach we found ourselves once again, having stopped here on our last journey to the Lost Coast.

A few years prior, I had inadvertently backed my Royal Enfield Himalayan off a rather large ledge (or small cliff) here, and since that moment, Blues Beach has been a spot I stop at every time I pass by, if for no other reason than to pay homage to the fact I managed to escape that situation unscathed apart from a large bruise on my thigh.

As we munched away on fresh sandwiches, I was reminded of just how far I’ve come along on this motorcycle journey of mine in a relatively short period of time. Two-and-a-half years prior, I was struggling to navigate these tracks on a significantly smaller motorcycle, and yet I suddenly found myself enjoying riding my fully loaded Tuareg through the beach’s deep sands, and further still into a rock garden down the beach that took me 10 minutes to free my bike from. Okay, the last part may have been a result of a miscommunication, but I still managed it well enough.

In these 5 years I’ve spent on an adventure motorcycle, much in my life has changed, but my yearning to improve, and continue to go deeper into places I’d have otherwise never been able to see grows stronger. There’s no other way to say it, motorcycles opened up a part of me that I no longer remember how to live without. And there are few places better to relish in such a thing than California’s ancient Redwood forests, along its absolutely stunning foggy shores, especially in the middle of a nationwide heat wave.

Maps and GPS Tracks

Want to do this ride? A large interactive map and downloadable GPX Tracks are available free.*

* Terms of Use: Should you decide to explore a route that is published on ADV Pulse, you assume the risk of any resulting injury, loss or damage suffered as a result. The route descriptions, maps and GPS tracks provided are simply a planning resource to be used as a point of inspiration in conjunction with your own due diligence. It is your responsibility to evaluate the route accuracy as well as the current condition of trails and roads, your vehicle readiness, personal fitness and local weather when independently determining whether to use or adapt any of the information provided here.

Photography by Ely Woody & Rob Dabney

Author: Ken Morse

While Ken’s two-wheeled exploits began only a few years ago, he’s no stranger to adventure. Since 2006, he’s been wandering all over the U.S. in various four-wheel drive toys, exploring as much hidden terrain in the backcountry as possible. Having straddled his first motorcycle in 2019, he quickly became obsessed and made the switch to two wheels. Now he spends most of his free time riding, wrenching and traveling on adventure motorcycles from his base in California’s Sierra Nevada Mountain Range.