Hood Canal ride, July 3, 2004

Posted July 4, 2004

See the gallery for all the pictures taken on this trip.

In the week leading up to the July 4th weekend, I was coming off a very heavy work and theatre schedule, having had basically no free time for nearly a month. Finally, on the weekend of the 4th, I had some time, and contacted my friend Jesse to see if he wanted to go for a ride.

He did, and we scheduled this last Saturday as the time. We didn't really have a place in mind, so I opened up my copy of Destination Highways and poked through. I found the answer on Page 99, "DH22 Hoodsport - Quilcene." Basically, it describes a ride down Highway 101 from Hoodsport (near the south end of the Hood Canal) to Quilcene, near the Hood Canal Bridge.

The Planned Route

I decided that the logical way to ride it was the other way 'round, and so that's how we planned it. I made up a map in Garmin MapSource so that we could load up our GPSs with the route.

We would take the Edmonds ferry over to Kingston, and ride up Highway 104, and over the Hood Canal bridge, to meet up with Highway 101. We would take 101 south to Hamma Hamma Road, and turn east into the mountains to find the Lena Creek Campground, and eat lunch there. After lunch, we'd continue south on 101, past Hoodsport, and meet up with Highway 106 in the Skokomish Indian Reservation. We'd take 106 to Highway 3 past Bremerton, and then hop on 16 and 160 to get over to the Southworth ferry. That would take us back to West Seattle, and we'd head home from there.

Because I had a show that night, I needed to be back in Seattle by 6. The GPS claimed that the route I'd set up would take just under 3 hours to ride at an average speed of 50 MPH. I figured that between ferries, rest stops and lunch it would take us 5 or 6 hours to do the trip. I told Jesse to meet me at my house at 9:30, which should put us well in line to catch the 10:45 ferry (possibly even the 10:10, although we weren't going to spaz trying to catch that one) at Edmonds.

The Day Dawns Overcast

As agreed, Jesse met me at my house around 9:30. He needed to pump up the rear tire on his CBR600, which was down to 10 PSI! We wielded the compressor and got his tire back up to a sane pressure. I needed to go to the bank for a bit of cash, and to the gas station for some go-juice for the Le Mans. We performed those tasks fairly quickly, and were on the road for Edmonds by 9:55.

The weather forecast was for "mostly cloudy with afternoon cloudbreaks, and highs in the 70s." I couldn't quite decide what that meant, so I decided to wear the Aerostich rather than the mesh riding gear. Jesse was in his new Alpinestars mesh jacket, but it had a waterproof (and therefore somewhat windproof) liner. When we departed, it was under 60° F, and heavily overcast.

We reached the ferry with time to spare, cruising by a 3/4 mile long line of cars parked in the waiting lanes. It's very satisfying cruising right to the very head of the line and getting on the boat first.

We were on the 10:45 ferry with no trouble, and took some time to plan out the rest of our trip in more detail. We decided to stop in Kingston and pick up lunch food, which we would take to the campground. Jesse read the entry in the book. I took pictures.

On the Penninsula

We got off the ferry on the Penninsula side to the accompaniment of yet more heavy overcast and cool temperatures. We got ourselves set up with some lunchy food at the Thriftway near the ferry terminal, and got on the road.

Highway 104 is the main route away from the ferry, so every time a ferry comes in, there's a sudden traffic jam for the next mile or two on 104. We managed to miss it by being first off the boat and into the Thriftway parking lot, and basically waiting it out by getting food. By the time we got back on the road, there was no more than the normal amount of traffic.

Several turns later (104 kind of wanders), we were crossing the Hood Canal bridge. The bridge is fairly impressive, spanning quite a distance on floats -- I think it's one of the longest floating bridges in the world. We were fortunate that it wasn't a windy day -- the side winds can get strong enough to topple RVs, and that combined with wet steel grating would have made the bridge basically impassable for motorcycles.

The rest of 104 after the bridge is fairly unremarkable. It's basically straight, and most of it has a 50 MPH speed limit. There's always more traffic than you want. Before too long, we were at the Highway 101 interchange.

Waiting at the 101 interchange, I asked Jesse if he was doing alright. I was concerned because I was kind of cold, and I was wearing much more substantial clothing than he was. He said he wanted to stop soon and change into his solid riding pants. We stopped a mile or two down the road at a wide shoulder, and he took a moment to change into his non-ventilated pants. I'm guessing he was pretty happy to do that, too, as the clouds were doing this weird mist-cum-rain trick that was getting us quite damp.

Better clothed, we continued down 101. The road was pretty good, with decent pavement, and good curves and hills. Of course, there was a fair share of traffic, and all of it seemed to want to go slower than us. We weren't even especially speeding, as the GPS was only reading at or 1-2 MPH above the speed limit when we were overtaking traffic.

Ian Takes a Diversion

We rode past an interesting looking viewpoint, and I resolved to take the next viewpoint we could find. We passed a sign for one, and I signaled and turned when we found it. It was a left turn (thus uphill, where we were, north of Quilcene) onto a gravel road. I looked at Jesse and said, "what do you think? I figured as long as we're here..." He said, "sure, why not?" and we slowly made our way up the road.

The weather was still quite damp, and so was the road. We were both in first gear, cruising under 20 MPH up this gravel road on our road bikes. I was hoping it'd pop out soon and we'd have a fabulous view under the clouds. 15 minutes up the road (or so it felt), we hadn't found the viewpoint, and we were actually ascending into the cloud layer. I stopped and said, "I don't think we're going to find anything too thrilling ahead." Jesse agreed with me, and we turned around to head back down.

I have to say, riding on gravel was very interesting. I felt like my bike was going to fall over a lot of the time, although it never did. Jesse told me later that he had the same feeling, and he attributed it to the relatively leaned-over position of the road bikes.

Ok, Back on 101

We got back on 101 southbound, and I started keeping an eye out for Hamma Hamma Rd. This was one of those moments where I was very happy for the GPS on my handlebars, as it gave me a readout of how many minutes until I could expect to intercept the turnoff. I was concerned mostly because I had no idea how well-marked the road would be, and it might be quite easy to blow right past it.

A number of fun swooping curves later, we came upon the Hamma Hamma Rd turn off, and turned up the hill.

Hamma Hamma You Say?

As we turned onto Hamma Hamma, I thought I caught a glimpse of a car just ahead of us around a curve. Sure enough, we were following a small pickup truck which was going Not Fast. There wasn't ever a spot to pass it safely, so we ended up going nearly the whole distance to the campground at Disturbingly Safe Speeds.

Hamma Hamma was clearly a fun road. There was some great pavement, and some excellent turns. Except for this damned truck in front of us, we would have been having a fabulous time. As it was, we had a nice preview of the return trip, which looked to be very nice (and I was quietly resolving to myself that we'd pass anyone who got in our way this time).

Along the sides of Hamma Hamma Road, there was a surprising abundance of small Alder trees, giving the impression of riding through a giant chlorophyll-green carwash. Most of them grew out over the road by half a foot, so that the outermost edge of the road was green with moss where cars feared to tread.

Eventually, we arrived at the Lena Creek Campground, and located a suitable spot. The campground was less than half full, so I didn't feel too bad about taking up a spot for 45 minutes while we ate.

Lena Creek, and the Sounds of Silence

As we parked our bikes, and got partially out of our riding gear (it was still fairly chilly), it struck me how beautifully silent the area was. There was a creek nearby, and birds chirping in the trees, but that was it. No traffic sounds. Practically no human sounds at all. No airplanes flying overhead. It was beautiful.

We were in the heart of the Olympic rain forest, so the vegetation was lush and plentiful. It looked a little bit like Dagobah, Yoda's home in Star Wars. Not so dim and murky, but there was a similar air of overarching plant life. The clouds butting up against the mountains reminded me strongly of the TV show, "Twin Peaks" from the early 90's

Lunch was excellent, greatly enhanced by our surroundings. Jesse and I discussed a variety of topics, including our ride so far, the sound of silence, etc. Except for the mosquitoes, everything was perfect with me.

Back Down Hamma Hamma

Knowing that we had more riding to do, we clambered back into our riding gear, and got back on the road. This time, our trip down Hamma Hamma Road was completely unencumbered by traffic. I think we only averaged about 40-45 MPH the whole way, but it was so much fun. We were in control of our own destinies this time, not being hampered by someone else whose goals didn't mesh with our own.

Unfortunately, Hamma Hamma road is only about 8 miles long, so just as we were really getting into it, it was over. As we sat at the intersection with 101, Jesse and I looked at each other and said, "now that was fun!"

What's Up with Hoodsport?

My trip odometer was upwards of 100 miles, which on the Le Mans means it's pretty much time to start looking for a gas station. We did eventually find one, in the small town of Hoodsport. Apparently there was some little festival going on that day, and so there was a short wait to get through town southbound. Soon enough, we were back in the clear, and the 76 station coming up had attractive prices ($1.95 per gallon for cheap unleaded, as I recall -- cheap for the time of this writing). I filled up my thirsty beast, and Jesse followed suit, since we probably wouldn't want to stop again before home.

Gas successfully acquired, we headed back out on the southbound side of 101. That traffic I mentioned earlier? Northbound was much worse. As we got moving, we saw stopped cars curving around the bend in the northbound direction, and I was quietly thankful that we weren't headed that way.

However, as we kept on, the stopped cars didn't end. Every curve we went around, I was expecting to see the end of the line, but it just didn't happen. I neglected to actually note the distance when we did finally find the end of the road, but it was after we'd passed the "Entering Potlatch" sign for the next small town down the road. I would guess it was around 2 miles. Two miles! of stopped cars, inching forward one clutch-melting foot at a time. I can't imagine a more foul way to spend a Saturday.

Good Thing We Escaped That Mess

Finally, we got past the evil northbound traffic at Hoodsport, but by that time, we were basically to the turnoff to Highway 106 at the south end of the Canal. We turned on 106, which received a tepid review (at best) in Destination Highways, and headed back north.

As predicted, 106 was really nothing to write home about. Low speed limits, lots of houses and development, heavier traffic, poor pavement -- all these things conspired to make 106 by far the worst segment of the ride. Once again, we were following a pickup truck which was absolutely intent on driving exactly the speed limit. Jesse and I both remarked on the ferry afterward that 106 was the part of the ride where we were suddenly very aware of every ache and pain.

106 mercifully ended, but nowhere near soon enough. Then we were onto Highway 3, which goes up past the Bremerton airport, and into the south end of Bremerton. Before we actually hit town, we turned onto Highway 16, which runs "east" (according to the sign) or "south" (according to a compass) until it eventually crosses the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. We turned east on 160 well before the bridge, though, and headed for the Southworth ferry.

Next time, I'll definitely be avoiding 106.

Southworth, and Nearly Home

The ferry crossing from Southworth to Fauntleroy only takes 35 minutes. We discussed the ride so far, emphatically agreeing that Hamma Hamma Road was the best part of it. We both really liked the isolation of the campground as a lunch spot, and the ride down Hamma Hamma was definitely the most "motorcycle friendly" and fun part.

Then, before we knew it, Fauntleroy was looming large, and it was time to put our gear back on and head for home. The ride through West Seattle was uneventful, landing us on I-5, where we parted company at the express lanes.

This Time, the Timing Was Right

On the Leavenworth ride, I only just made it to my show on time, and the latter half or even 2/3 of the ride was just drudgery, trying to make a distance that was impractical for the amount of time we had. This time, I'd planned carefully to avoid the same thing happening again, and it paid off. I was home by 6:00 PM (exactly as I had hoped I'd be), and arrived at the show when I was supposed to be there, instead of 15 minutes before it went on.

Stats

According to the GPS:

Distance travelled: 167 mi
Time enroute: 4:04:24
Average speed: 41.1 MPH
Top speed: 89.4 MPH
Fuel efficiency: 36.3 MPG

Lessons Learned

Planning is good. I took the time to really plan out this ride, and do some research on it. That paid off in being able to take a relaxed pace and enjoy the trip. If I'd really been on the ball, I would have realized that this was the Independence Day weekend, and thought about looking for potential traffic problems like we narrowly avoided in Hoodsport.

Weather remains unpredictable. Despite the forecasts, Jesse and I were both cold until about 4 pm, when it finally started warming up as we passed Bremerton. Jesse probably would have been happier with solid gear instead of his mesh gear, and I wished I had just one more layer of warm clothing on. I was extremely glad I hadn't worn my mesh gear, as I would have been freezing (since mine doesn't have clever waterproof liners and such).

Even a custom seat doesn't prevent monkey-butt. The Rich's seat, while nicely shaped and generally much more comfortable than stock, still didn't prevent my butt from getting sore near the end of the trip. I don't know that anything will, so I just need to plan on being uncomfortable by the time I've ridden 150 miles. I'm sure that goes away with practice and more time riding, but I don't seem to find myself on long rides very often.

Created by Ian Johnston. Questions? Please mail me at reaper at obairlann dot net.