Tour de California 2002

From NSX-Wiki

[edit] 2002 Tour de California

[edit] by MYF16

Well, it's that time of year again, folks. I'm taking two long weekends to put a couple thousand miles on my NSX, roughly half its annual mileage.

Day One

This year, my Tour had an unconventional start: in bed. No, I'm not beginning a career writing trashy novels. It's just that on my scheduled starting day I found myself totally exhausted from extensive business travel and in no shape to drive. So at 12:30 PM with almost all the preparations complete, I simply had to get some sleep. A man's got to know his limitations.

I figured that I would begin my drive the next morning, but at 2:30 PM I awoke completely rejuvenated and eager to go. I gathered the remaining necessary items and I was off at 3:20 PM.

My route for this tour was similar to the one I drove on my first Tour in 1999. (See http://www.geocities.com/myfsixteen but be aware that you may be locked out temporarily if too many people have been downloading those large map files.) My objective was to reach Ponderosa campground on Nacimiento Road before dark. I figured I was good for about 4 hours of driving, which should be sufficient. I tuned in the Lehrer News Hour on 88.5 FM until it ended at 4 PM.

My air conditioner was weak, but working acceptably well. I had managed to transfer some refrigerant from my 1989 Hyundai Sonata which has a date with the wrecking yard this summer due to a combination of leaking exhaust, faulty crank angle sensor, and oxidized and peeling paint. It was a great car for worry-free parking at the airport. I connected the high-pressure side of the Hyundai and the low-pressure side of the NSX to my two-gauge setup, terminating the yellow center hose on a plug. A fellow on the cartalk.cars.com board helped me with some great information on how to do this. With the two valves I could control the flow, which turned out to be very, very slow even with both air conditioning systems running. I stopped after almost an hour even though the NSX still had plenty of foam in its sight glass. Re-using is better than recycling any day.

This fall I will have to get the NSX's slow refrigerant leak repaired, now that my Freon detector has found it in the neighborhood of the evaporator. That's a very expensive neighborhood.

As I approached Livermore, I hit rush hour traffic in earnest. I decided to conserve both driving energy and time by sticking with the freeway out of town rather than my 1999 route via Mines Road and Del Puerto Canyon Road. I can drive those roads any time I want, but the Tour comes only once per year. By 4:10 PM, traffic thinned out nicely at the Altamont Pass, and I was off toward Interstate 5.

The amplifier module in my left door had started buzzing the previous weekend on the Autozotica drive, so I was expecting only to have the music of the engine. (Doug Hayashi will tell you that it's a bad idea to tear apart your car right before an important event. So I'll fix this in September.) I discovered that if I turned the balance control full right and turned the bass all the way down, the left side amplifier would stay cool enough to prevent the buzzing. Lousy audio was definitely better than no audio.

On I-5, I passed an RV towing a Saturn, and remarked to myself that I, too, was driving a recreational vehicle, but one of an entirely different sort.

At 5:20 PM, 125 miles from home, Little Panoche Road marked the real start of this Tour. I wasted no time picking up the pace to an indicated 92 mph. (I try not to speed much on freeways, which is probably why I have gotten zero tickets in the 6 years I've owned the NSX.) I was expecting to refuel here, but the gas station I remembered is at Panoche Road, several miles south. The eastern section of Little Panoche Road is flat and relatively straight, and of course it's empty. Then it winds over some hills and down into a large valley with a 2-mile straightaway. Too bad the pavement is so rough there. The rough pavement doesn't discourage the local residents in their pickup trucks from attaining frightening speeds as they pass you in the opposite lane.

As you may know, I fly Southwest Airlines between Los Angeles and Oakland almost every week. On the northbound trips, if I have a window seat, I attempt to identify the back roads north of Coalinga and west of I-5. They are difficult to identify, but it's rewarding when I do. For example, San Antonio Valley Road is visible as the only road east of Mt. Hamilton (identified by the white observatory on top), and the high valley is the only grazing land with oak trees for over 10 miles in any direction. Back roads tend to follow the deepest valleys, which are relatively easy to identify from the air.

I made a mental note of the configuration of Little Panoche Road as it joined Panoche Road in the large, dry valley. Maybe I'll spot it on my next Southwest flight. If I'd had extra time, I'd probably have taken this opportunity to explore the south section of Panoche Road, which is a dead end at New Idria as far as pavement is concerned. Instead, I turned north. The next winding section on Panoche Road is an entertaining traverse of another set of hills, and is followed by an outstanding wide, resurfaced section down the west side. (This section is 10 miles east of Highway 25.) As you approach Highway 25, there are a few straight-aways on which you can safely try to max out 3rd or 4th gear, if you are so inclined. I was taking things easy, at 7/10th or so. It took me nearly an hour to cover the 45 miles to Highway 25.

Highway 25 was more beautiful, fast, and smooth than I remembered. Next time I won't wait 2 years between visits. Traffic was very light, with only a few civilian vehicles and no patrol cars. This area is seeing some noticeable development, with some new vineyards and a gigantic white house on the east side of the valley, visible only from the north, about 25 miles south of Panoche Road. I saw several quail near the road, and one deer that turned his head for me but was otherwise unperturbed. Probably never saw an NSX before...

The turn for King City arrived all too quickly. I had covered 34 miles of Highway 25 in 29 minutes. This turn is marked only by a small King City sign; there is no Bitterwater Road sign to mark the road which enters at a sharp angle. As Bitterwater Road crosses the ridge, westbound drivers are treated to a panoramic view of the expansive Salinas River Valley and the coastal hills beyond. I sped down the hill into King City and the gas station at the bottom of Bitterwater Road. By the time I got there, the low fuel light was on.

A long train was passing, blocking the road into town, so it was just as well that I needed gas. I added some air to the tires, and used their surprisingly clean bathroom. Then the train was gone and so was I.

A short blast down scenic Jolon Road (county road G14) brought me to the entrance of Fort Hunter Liggett. In 1999 and 2000 this had been an unattended guard shack. No longer. Now there are cement barriers to divert vehicles away from the shack, and the guard checks your ID and issues a one-day pass.

My Valentine One detected a radar unit on Mission Road, but before I reached the source, I turned west onto Nacimiento Road and found myself behind a pickup truck. When he crossed the bridge, I took the shortcut over the cement tank bridge, which was dry due to the lack of rain. The guy probably never figured out how I got past him. (Somebody has a photo of my car crossing this bridge a few years ago through 2 inches of water, which made quite a splash.)

Several civilian vehicles were stopped along Nacimiento Road enjoying the beautiful pre-sunset scenery. I snapped a few photos before noticing that my camera was giving an error message. So I opened it and checked that the film was feeding, then went back and re-shot my three photos. The error message persisted. Oh, well, I certainly can't complain about having to drive what is arguably the most pastoral scenery in the state twice.

Ascending Nacimiento Road the low sun projected a shadow of the car onto the canyon wall. I stopped for a photo, but no matter where I stopped the image was just no good. Only in motion do the uneven rocks allow a smooth image of the car to appear.

At almost 8:00PM, 267 miles from home, I reached Ponderosa campground, seven miles east of the summit near Nacimiento Road. I chatted with the park attendant, paid him my $15, sprayed on some bug repellant, and set up my tent. Then I quickly washed and covered the car. (Ponderosa has no flush toilets, but it does have the essential: car-washing water!)

A few more campers arrived, but they set up far away and quieted down promptly. There is little or no traffic on the road at night. Soon I could hear only the stream (Nacimiento Creek), and then I was asleep. The night was cool, about 50 degrees: the perfect temperature for camping.

Day Two

In the morning it seemed that the sun was taking its time rising, because the pre-dawn light didn't seem to increase. Then I opened my eyes to look, and it was the moon shining through my tent window. D'oh! When the real sunlight woke me, it was just after 6:00 AM, which was perfect. The weather was still cool enough to keep the bugs away while I packed up, and I was on the road at 6:50 AM.

I thought to myself that not many married guys are able to go driving and camping alone. Fortunately for me, my wife likes to take our children to visit her parents in France every summer, leaving me alone to play. I'm such a lucky guy. I'll go see all of them next week, then I will return to finish my Tour.

A propos of nothing, I suddenly thought of a technique that ancient scientists could have used to prove that the Earth is either curved or finite. You simply set up an observation post on a peak and verify that the sunrise and sunset are both slightly below horizontal. If the Earth were infinite and flat, this would not be possible. See: I can drive and think at the same time. :-)

The western side of Nacimiento Road always seems to be teeming with wildlife. This time it was a group of quail and a large rabbit, the first one I can recall seeing in California outside of desert areas. As I started down the mountain, the coast appeared to be fogged in with a very low cloud layer hugging the ocean. But by the time I got to the cloud layer and passed through it, I realized that it was 400 feet or so above the ocean. So I had good visibility for my coastal drive.

Highway 1 was not deserted, but I had little trouble getting past the few cars traveling my way (southbound). Almost everyone pulls over for a red NSX, although I also credit my technique, which is to approach at full speed then brake aggressively to avoid coming any closer than a safe following distance. This is intended to make the point that I would like to go faster but I do not intend to endanger anyone, for example by tailgating.

Highway 1 was as much fun as ever, and totally free of patrol cars. I reached San Simeon before I knew it. After that, the road got a little crowded. I pulled over to check my maps, which I had neglected to do the night before. Meaning that I had no idea which road I would take after reaching Cambria. I had a faint memory that Old Creek Road was good and a strong memory that Santa Rosa Creek Road was narrow and rough, so I chose the former over the alternatives, which included Highways 46 and 41.

Old Creek Road proved to be an excellent choice. The one civilian vehicle let me past, and I had a wide, smooth, and winding road all to myself. Due to the camera problem, I did not stop to take a photo of the gigantic cypress tree that towers over the road mid-way. All too soon I reached Highway 46. (Either time passes more quickly as I get older or I'm driving faster, because these drives just don't seem very long any more.)

I decided to detour through the countryside along Vineyard Road, and for the first time I explored Klau Mine Road and Chimney Rock Road to their respective ends. Other a rusting 1957 Studebaker Lark in a front yard, there was nothing to write home about, so you can safely skip those dead-end sections. On Vineyard Road, I saw a clean 1956 Lincoln and a fawn stranded on the wrong side of the fence. The old and the new. On those rare occasions when there is no traffic, Vineyard Road is superb for driving. It's so pretty that I would buy some real estate there if I were inclined to own investment property.

Adelaida Road had a brand new coat of pavement. Other than the fact that the shoulders had not been filled, making for sharp dropoffs on the edges, the surface was race-track perfect. So I raced on over to Paso Robles, where I filled the tank.

At Paso Robles, I carefully studied my San Luis Obispo county map and chose a new route, Niblick/Linne Road. It turned out to be acceptable, but inferior to the usual El Pomar Road through Templeton. At Highway 41, I jogged west 0.2 miles to Highway 229 south.

Highway 229 is not to be missed. Much of it is single-lane (no stripe), and it goes up and down almost as much as it goes side to side. Don't try this if you have a passenger but no airsickness bag. It was a total blast.

Highway 229 ends at Highway 58, which is itself a premier driver's route. With a nearly full tank I turned east, encountering a large burned area on the north side of the road. A hilly, winding section gives way to a large, flat valley north of Soda Lake where you can reach high speeds if you like. Toward the east side of the valley, the road remains straight but becomes playful with abrupt rises and drops, plus some sharp 90-degree turns.

Highway 58 climbs out of the valley with more up and down and side to side motion. About 1.5 miles east of Seven Mile Road is a small bump that will launch your car quite well if you drive it westbound at high speed.

The descent on the eastern side (or conversely the initial ascent out of the Central Valley) is a one of the finest sections of high-speed mountain road anywhere. My stock brakes, with PowerSlot rotors, Dali deflectors, and removed splash guards, held up well on the fast descent with occasional hairpin turns.

East of McKittrick, I explored Reward Road, but found it inferior to Highway 58, so don't bother with it. The scenery would only be attractive to a petroleum engineer. At Taft, on Highway 33, I stopped for gas. As I started fueling, a very attractive lady asked me what kind of car it was. She said she knew what a Viper looked like, and this was not a Viper. Some of you guys might have offered her a ride, but my wife has a strict "one strike' policy regarding such matters. Come to think of it, so do I. Paradoxically, this is liberating, in that I can flirt all I want since I know that nothing serious is going to follow. (No need to be nervous about rejection when you're not even going to make the attempt.)

As it turned out, the lady in question was the passenger in a large Dodge Ram pickup, which followed me out of the gas station and south on Highway 33. As we left town, I rapidly accelerated to 100 mph or so and left them behind.

Highway 33 is heavily patrolled, but feeling invincible I climbed the long hill at 80 to 90 mph, blowing by a car or two in sweeping curves in the passing lane section. What fun! The nice thing about the NSX is that if you can do it, the car can.

At the top of the hill is the inconspicuous left turn onto Cerro Noroeste Road. Cerro Noroeste was nicer than I remembered, fast, scenic, and empty. I drove Cerro Noroeste at my maximum safe speed, which was fast indeed: just ask Kirby about the previous weekend�s Autozotica drive. Anyone in the Los Angeles area really should get out and drive this road, perhaps via Ojai and Highway 33.

Past Mt. Pinos Road the local traffic increases, eventually preventing rapid progress. At Highway 5 I drove Gorman Post Road down to Highway 138 to N2 to Pine Canyon Road. Pine Canyon Road had new pavement, and was therefore a much better drive than I remembered. Then I was ready for my own mini-Canyonball run.

From Three Points Road, I drove Lake Hughes Road to Santa Clarita. At one point I spotted some minor crash debris, mostly bumper and turn signal plastic. About 1/4 mile later I saw the BMW 3-series convertible that it came from: much more crunched than I had expected. Good thing he didn't flip.

On the open and fast road, I had another random thought. This one is bound to be more controversial: I suspect that belief in God (or some higher power) is a primitive function of the brain, rather than an advanced one. In fact, I surmise that what we call animals' instinct is experienced by them as being given a hint or a command from an unknown source, which is how humans often perceive God. The great thing about this hypothesis is that nobody can disprove it. :-)

What will be proven, I am confident, is that animals are conscious, and almost certainly self-aware. Otherwise how could predators and prey be so clever when hunting and evading? It's hard to imagine how any being without consciousness could accomplish the feats that they do. There are countless stories of how domestic dogs have exhibited intelligence, and wild dogs and wolves are known to be even more clever. All of which does not make me a vegetarian any more than the wolf.

Speaking of animals, I appear to be working on a new Tour de California record: zero road kills so far.

Once I reached Santa Clarita, I had quite a bit of trouble finding San Francisquito Canyon Road. As I learned, you have to turn left onto Seco Canyon Road, then left onto Copper Hill Road before you turn right onto San Francisquito Canyon Road. I let a Z3 lead the way at high speed through the rocky canyon and up to 4000 feet or so. I could gain some ground on him in the turns, but not much. I waved goodbye as I turned right onto Spunky Canyon Road.

Next on the menu was the winding Bouquet Canyon Road, which provided welcome shade to give the air conditioner a break. The 55 mph limit was just about perfect, at least for this downhill run. A left on Vasquez took me past an oncoming pristine 1963 Corvette convertible with roll bar, fender flares, and super-wide tires. A right on Sierra and a quick left onto Sand Canyon Road took me over to Little Tujunga Road, which was and is the best of these canyon roads. After that it was freeway traffic, including the dreaded 405 South, totally jammed from north of the Getty Museum all the way to LAX. Now *there* is a hazardous road!

After a total of 479 miles and 10.5 hours, I reached my father's house in Redondo Beach. That was a long day's drive. I sat down at the computer and spent some time booking reservations using Southwest's amazing $29+tax fares between Oakland and Los Angeles before I went to sleep.

Day Three

The next morning, I dropped my film for developing and drove to the Petersen Auto Museum (http://www.petersen.org), where the CHP 11-99 Foundation was holding a special event. The Chippies, ex-Chippies, and other members were displaying their "other rides", some of which I was sure would be quite interesting. I was not disappointed.

American muscle cars were well represented, including some GTOs, a Charger, and several Mustangs. One fellow had a photo display showing the rusting hulk of a GT350H that he bought for $400 before spending almost a year restoring it to pristine condition. Scary, that was.

A Modena Spyder carried the California plate "CHP 1199", and there was even a CHP helicopter parked right in the middle of everything. There were two vintage (1950s) CHP patrol cars and several other odds and ends: about 70 cars in all. My NSX was still unwashed, so I parked it discreetly on a lower floor.

I took several photos (the new roll of film still had the same error message) and left without entering the museum, since the current exhibit runs through January. Next stop: Palomar!

Sunday morning traffic was not heavy, and I was able to pick my way through the freeway traffic. A fellow in a Volvo convertible was changing lanes 2 or 3 times more frequently than I. I enjoyed leaving him behind by making superior choices. Just like the stock market, you need to go with the long-term trend (left lane is fastest) unless there is a clear contrary short-term trend (a truly wide open lane to the right).

Highway 76 to Palomar was jammed, but I managed to pass all the cars except one in two or three passing zones. The last guy was going 30 mph in a 55 mph zone up a hill. When he didn't take the turnout on a long left-hand sweeper, I did. I zipped around him easily (which I couldn't have done if he had not been going so slowly), passing on the outside with the NSX at its maximum (for me) safe speed and high lateral acceleration. It was a thing of beauty. And by the way, it was legal, since in California sharing a lane is allowed as long as it's safe.

When I reached Palomar Road, I slowed down to open a gap in front of me before heading up the mountain. At the first hairpin, I sped up and charged more than half way up before I had to slow for a moment for another vehicle. I got past that vehicle and then one other promptly, then slowed as I came up on two vehicles very near the top at the 5000-foot elevation mark. The temperature gauge never budged, meaning that my StoneShield (protective screen for the radiator) was allowing sufficient air flow for this heavy use.

The advantage of driving Palomar Road uphill is that gravity mitigates any minor mistakes you make. If you need to stop for an obstacle, gravity adds its force to any braking force you apply. Going downhill, gravity lengthens stopping distance and amplifies your mistakes, which can lead to disaster.

At the junction (which is not really the top of Palomar, just the top of the fun part), I turned right on East Grade Road and had clear sailing. The views descending this road are spectacular, especially the wide-open expanse including the shallow lake to the east. I turned east on Highway 76.

At Center Loop Road there were well over 100 motorcycles (the chrome shiny kind, not sport bikes) parked at what appeared to be a biker's bar. It was very well located, right at the beginning of the beautiful Mesa Grande Road. That road winds up a hill, then levels out but keeps on winding its way through the trees, then fields. It is not to be missed if you are in the area. I waved to all the oncoming bikers scattered here and there along the route.

A quick few miles north on Highway 79 brought me to county road S2. I avoided Julian, to the south, which tends to clog up with bikers and tourists. The northern section of S2 has some great high-speed sweepers and some fun humps that can send your NSX airborne if you have the guts to top 130 or so. At least that's what I've been told, since I'm afraid to try it myself.

As I slowed for the turn east onto S22 I spotted an oncoming patrol pickup. Good thing I had not encountered him one minute earlier. He spotted me too, and turned to follow me at 55 mph for a few miles. But what the heck, I needed a rest and I hadn�t tested the cruise control in quite a while. He turned off at Ranchita and I resumed manual cruise control. :-)

The road down to Borrego Springs is long and fast. Just when you think the descent is over, a panorama appears with the town still 1500 feet or so below. It's not for acrophobes. At 1:45 PM I stopped at the grocery store in Borrego Springs, having only eaten a banana all day. Driving hard suppresses the appetite, but I was getting hungry.

Borrego Springs is so primitive that it doesn't have any Diet Dr. Pepper. But the grocery store had some intriguing bags of "Mexican Pastry" in the bread section. There were several different varieties, none of which I recognized. Since taking a road trip is all about trying new things, I bought one that looked vaguely like a French brioche. It turned out to taste quite a bit like one, too.

I tried to locate the mini-oasis with the palm trees west of Borrego Springs. I think I spotted it, but it would have required a 1/2-mile walk each way in 95-degree heat and parking the NSX at the end of a deserted road. Besides that, I was late for my appointment with Mark Johnson in San Diego, so I made a mental note to try some other time and some other season.

As I started the climb back up S22 out Borrego Springs I passed a bicyclist. Wow, he must have some real stamina.

Partway up the hill, I spotted an unusual rock formation, looking like a huge stone bowling ball balanced on a peak, and made a U-turn for a photo. As I parked, 3 wild-looking cars came up the hill: a sedan followed by 2 sports cars. The sedan had an unusual grill with sideways D-shaped chrome sections joined at the centerline. Kind of like you took a BMW kidney grill and turn each half 90 degrees. The sports cars looked like Panozes. I took my photo, hopped in the car, and zoomed up the hill, passing all three cars at about 100 mph in a very long passing zone. (They were traveling at 65 mph or so.) At the top of the hill I stopped for another rock photo, and this time a total of 8 cars came by, including an S2000, a 5-series BMW, and a BMW Z8, the first I've ever seen on the road. All or most of them had their halogen headlights on. Clearly, something was afoot: a car club event, or a magazine test or something. And since I was several miles up the hill, these guys must have been going almost as fast as I on the physics-limited section.

The sports cars looked sort of like S2000s from the back, but they had round tail lights. At least one of them had a BMW emblem on the side. At the next passing zone, I was able to pass 4 of the cars, but there were still 4 in front of me, with the S2000 directly in front. That turned out to be the last passing zone on S22, and these guys were locked in at 65 mph. Bummer. Or should I say, Bimmer. Actually, 6 Bimmers, one Honda, and one UberHonda (that would be me).

They turned south on S2, which was my direction too. A couple miles later, as I was resigning myself to the 65 mph pace, my Valentine One signalled a laser detection and the Z8 passed me. Almost immediately, the Valentine detected laser again, and then the whole group then pulled off at a small building that appeared to be a bar or store or something. I waved and accelerated to my normal speed.

Then I got to thinking: Laser hits? Right near the stop? With no police anywhere? Maybe they were infra-red range-finders for a photo shoot, which I had messed up by my presence. (Yes, an NSX makes a nice photo, but it was red, not blue like the other cars, and I was carrying 600+ miles of dirt.) Damn. Of course, they could have let me by at any point, but perhaps they didn't have sufficient radio communication.

The next day, I did a web search and discovered that the mystery sports cars were BMW Z4s, not yet officially announced but not super-secret either. The mystery sedan turned out to be the new 745. I figured it was the Roundel magazine folks and I attempted to email them an apology. No response yet. I suppose it could have been BMW of North America giving a comparison drive to various magazine writers. But except for the uphill section from Borrego Springs, 65 mph was too slow for any evaluation of the cars' capabilities.

Anyway, back on the Tour, I discovered that a safety feature had been added to county road S2. Its southern section crosses some very hot desert, and you could be in danger of dehydration if your car broke down. So at 1-mile intervals, the authorities have installed blue plastic barrels, presumably containing water, each marked with a large blue flag. Very thoughtful. Probably helps the illegal immigrants too. [Turns out these are primarily for the illegals, wouldn�t you know...]

S2 is a long, long ride, one of the few roads on this Tour that did not end too soon. When I entered Interstate 8 westbound, I momentarily forgot that I once again had to pay attention to the speed limit. Time to switch context. I-8 climbs over a pass of about 3000 feet, and the NSX had the power to pass all the other vehicles at 80+ mph up the hill. Past the top, it was back to normal freeway driving.

I located Mark Johnson's place and picked up a part that he had for me, then I was off to fight Sunday evening traffic on I-5 north. That's the most hazardous kind of driving, and I try to avoid it on the Tour, but this time it was a price worth paying.

In real estate there is a concept called "highest and best use", meaning the use of the property which creates the highest value. In my opinion, the Tour de California is the highest and best use of an NSX: combining its advantages of performance, comfort, and reliability.

The developed film was blank, due to film jam. Time to buy a new camera.

Cumulative statistics: 3 days, 1203 miles, 0 tickets, 0 road kills, and 1 defective camera

Day Four

My Tour de California occurs at the same time of year as the Tour de France, and the route similarly varies from year to year. Like the planners of the Tour de France, I seek out lightly traveled and scenic roads, with emphasis on hilly terrain.

After driving 65 miles in Los Angeles in the preceding week demonstrating the car to co-workers, I pulled out of the garage in Redondo Beach at 5:15 AM into a light Saturday morning drizzle. This was my earliest start ever on a Tour de California day. I had carefully preserved my jet lag since returning from France on Monday, so waking up at 4 AM was no problem. I had attempted to add some Freon to my barely functioning air conditioning system, but my puncture valve did not mate to the can of Freon I had with me. I suppose that if things got desperate, I could pay an air conditioning shop to add my Freon to the system, but I'd rather save it for after the leak is repaired.

My other preparation was to mount the videocamera and load it with a 2-hour tape to record some of the best parts of the drive home.

Even without detailed maps I managed to find Big Tujunga Road near Sunland at about 6 AM. The initially poor road surface turned nearly perfect a little over a mile later. Lots of sweeping curves on about 10 miles of ascent. As I gained altitude, the skies cleared.

I continued north on N3, the Angeles Forest Highway. This is a superb high-speed road, with no traffic going north at this time of day. There were quite a few southbound vehicles, probably commuting to work on this Saturday morning. Fortunately, they stayed on their side of the road. Angeles Forest Highway was great fun at high speed. In contrast, the curves on Big Tujunga were too tight for high speed but not tight enough to be a slalom-like challenge.

Once I neared Palmdale, I doubled back to try Alviso Canyon Road, which has some expensive homes at its north end and has some fun driving for the rest of its length. Watch out for curves following the blind rises.

Mt. Emma Road reminded me of Lake Hughes Road near Santa Clarita. Cheesboro Road crossed over the California Aqueduct, which looks much bigger when you're sitting on top of it. As the sun rose, I turned on the air conditioner. It was blowing hot on the left and cold on the right, a sure sign of very low refrigerant. I drove Barrel Springs Road, but it's nothing special.

Re-entering civilization, I momentarily forgot that the roads now had speed limits. Oops, that could earn me a ticket. Actually, I have earned many tickets. It's just that I haven't actually received any since buying my NSX 6 years ago.

-P

After a short run up the freeway (California 14), I exited at Backus Road west to Tehachapi-Willow Springs Road, which is an excellent 2-lane highway. On the first very long uphill straight, I passed the only other northbound vehicle and reached 135 mph before slowing for oncoming traffic. The road then curves through the mountain pass, where huge windmills over 100 feet high tower on both sides, the shadows of the blades slicing across the pavement. In a scant 12 minutes and 15 miles, the fun was over. But I had discovered another fine back road. It's these discoveries that make the Tour worthwhile.

At this point, the driver's side amplifier decided to fail even with the controls set at minimum bass and full right balance. The loud cracking noise probably risked damage to the speaker cone. So, no more tunes, not even tinny ones.

I entered Highway 58 westbound, paralleling a train track over the pass. The track passes through several short, closely spaced tunnels which show heavy soot deposits from the oil-burning engine exhaust. If you got lucky, you could shoot an unusual photo of a train snaking through two tunnels at the same time.

As I proceeded toward Bakersfield, someone in a bronze Nissan 240SX blocked my progress by passing a truck at a mere 60 mph. I got past and resumed my 75 to 80 mph cruise. Two minutes later, this same person came zooming up at 90 mph and stopped in my blind spot, matching speeds. Then he backed off to 60 mph again. Pretty odd behavior. I figured he might be an off-duty or self-appointed enforcement type with a cell phone. What to do? I slowed, and he slowed too. Most annoying. I wasn't seriously worried, but I slowed down behind a truck until he passed me. Gotta humor those nut cases by letting them think they won.

While driving slowly, I took the opportunity to check my map, and I realized that I had missed a chance to check out a parallel road. So at the next opportunity, I turned back to satisfy my curiosity and simultaneously avoid any future encounters with the 240SX guy or his friends.

Although the southern section of Caliente-Bodfish Road which parallels 58 to the north and cuts over to Bena Roed was totally unsuitable due to resurfacing work in progress, I was able to access Bena Road from the south side of 58. It parallels a train line, with decent, wide pavement and no traffic. It's a worthy alternative to the freeway.

I turned north on Comanche Road, intending to take Breckenridge up the hill. After a gas stop on Highway 178 (expensive, but no price for gas is too high on the Tour), I retraced to Breckenridge, where after about 2 miles the road surface suddenly turned to a tar- and gravel-laden mess. On the Tour, you win some and you lose some. Time to re-route.

I decided to go up Highway 178 in place of Breckenridge. This highway might be fun very, very early in the morning, but at close to 10 AM I got stuck behind 30 mph traffic in the narrow but scenic Kern River canyon. This was the antithesis of a proper Tour. It lasted about 15 minutes, then the "passing lane" turned out to be the start of a 4-lane freeway section. Free at last! When traffic gets held back that long, you have miles and miles of clear sailing ahead. This is exactly when you can get a really big speeding ticket. But my luck held for the few miles to my turnoff at Bodfish (population 1600, but it looks bigger).

The climb south out of Bodfish is a single-lane road with switchbacks. I had driven this road around 1993 in my 1987 MR2, after I managed to coax the route information out of a staffer at Car and Driver. Dodging one driver who was not keeping to his side, I made it to the top very quickly. Except for a few blind turns, the visibility ahead on this road is excellent, due to the lack of vegetation.

I turned left 15 miles from Bodfish at a road labeled Wasler, which is the first paved turn to the east. Continuing straight at the next intersection put me on Walker Basin Road. A few miles later I found the blind rise mentioned at http://www.mr2.com/TEXT/NSXvsMR2.html which I wrote about 6 years ago. My memory had imperfectly captured just how close the turn was to top of the rise, and how closely the cattle guard followed the turn. I was amazed that I had managed to navigate this turn.

Continuing on, the road become Caliente Creek Road, which crosses the stream bed repeatedly. It probably floods quite a bit in winter. The road surface is erratic, and the radius of the curves is unpredictable, so you really need to be careful and assume that every blind turn will have a decreasing radius.

Since I still had plenty of gas, I turned right on Caliente-Bodfish Road, which goes up and over the hill that Caliente Creek Road went around. This is a nearly continuous set of switchbacks. 13 miles later, I was back at the point where I had turned off Caliente-Bodfish road on the way down.

This was a serious workout in a car without power steering or a reasonably functional air conditioner. I kept the windows up since the AC was giving me about a 5-degree reduction from the outside temperature, which was approaching 100 degrees F.

I turned left, back up the hill toward Bodfish. I took a minute to check out the upper part of Breckenridge Road, which was more like a paved driveway than a real road. Certainly not Tour material, so I was probably fortunate that the lower portion had been unusable. The biggest danger on those narrow one-lane roads is fast oncoming traffic, and it would have been a nerve-wracking hour or more up that road.

As you descend into Bodfish, the absence of vegetation near the road gives an unobstructed view of the valley far, far below. My Valentine 1 briefly detected a K-band radar, which must have been on the freeway 5 miles or so dead ahead and about 2000 feet down. That's impressive range.

Since it was noon, I grabbed a burger at Bodfish (plus a compliment on the car from the drive-though gal), and continued west on highway 155. Crossing over 178 I saw several emergency vehicles and people working on a severe crash: a sedan had somehow left the elevated portion of the eastbound on-ramp and flipped the car, whose roof was partially caved in. Ouch. It looked pretty bad, and the paramedics were hard at work. Since the ramp was totally straight, it's hard to imagine what could have caused the car to go off. Maybe unruly children or some other driver distraction; you'd have to be looking in some other direction than you're driving to leave the road there.

The heavy haze that I had seen ever since Palmdale became much thicker now, and was obviously smoke from the Sequoia National Forest fire. Turning left (no stop sign and minimal markings) I headed out of the Lake Isabella area on highway 155 westbound. If it weren't for the smoke, the scenery would have been fabulous, with megaboulder-strewn hillsides dotted with live oak trees. If you drove through enough of this scenery, you could begin to take it for granite.

-)

Highway 155 was every bit as good as they said at pashnit.com. It was a endless string of tight curves. Slalom city.

My arms began to get tired after all the work they had been doing. I actually began to approach an overdose of roadus serpentinus (that's Wile E. Coyote-speak), something which just DOES NOT HAPPEN to me.

The one factor that keeps highway 155 from being a perfect road is that many of the curves have decreasing radius and are unmarked. Therefore you must keep some braking in reserve for the 10% to 20% of the curves which require it. This disrupts the flow of an otherwise fine road, making the drive more of a contest than a partnership. Caliente Creek Road is also in this category. That's why the Car and Driver folks call the Caliente Loop the Lion's Trail.

Highway 155 passes some sequoias (the ones with the orangish bark) before descending into the drier chaparral. Farther down, 155 opens up and becomes less mentally taxing. I went all the way down to the flatlands, where I turned left onto Highway 65. There was some serious traffic on this road, but "objects in mirror become smaller rapidly".

After gassing up north of Bakersfield, I began my third ascent of the day, this time up Bakersfield-Glenville Road. (Yes, I really did plan this circuitous routing.) This road is good (a solid 8 of 10 versus 9.5 for highway 155), but the scenery is a mere 2. Round Mountain Road looked excellent, but it was not on my way for this Tour, so I turned left onto the slightly rougher Woody Road. Although the scenery got better and better, Woody Road won't give you one. I took a photo of a rock formation here. If you are afraid of stopping on the road to take photos, just tell yourself to be boulder. Must be the heat getting to me...

Some miscreant left a broken bottle at the apex of a turn, and I ran over it. You can't do much to avoid a road hazard right at the apex. My right rear tire seemed to survive the encounter, fortunately. Damn, it was getting hot outside.

Half a mile before the town of Woody, I spotted a large vulture on a fence post. But when I backed up to take a photo, he left. Too bad. By the way, I was using a different camera, having discarded the broken one that caused me to lose all my Day 1, 2, and 3 photos.

As planned, I made a U-turn and backtracked one mile to what my map says is Woody Granite Road. Actually, there is no road sign, but I just decided to take it for, well, never mind... Whatever the road is, it's very, very scenic.

7 miles later I turned left (east) on Granite Road. This road is a true wonder, with one of the best combinations of scenery and road surface that you will see in the whole state. Unfortunately there is some traffic, but once I got past, it was a superb drive. Get out there early in the day and have fun. Granite Road rocks!

A loop including Granite Road and Highway 155 would be hard to beat. Trouble is there may not be any NSX owners in Bakersfield to enjoy it. The local folks look at the car like it's a UFO. Even though mine is clearly labeled as an F-16.

At Glenville, I turned north on Jack Ranch Road, then turned right on Old Stage Road. I made a ring around the Posey area, but the pavement and the puns ran out (as I knew they would) and I backtracked west on Old Stage Road. A local fellow at Poso Park told me that Portugese Pass to the east is dirt for a mile or two, even if it weren't closed due to the McNally fire (which it was). Anyway, the road to Poso Park, including the road to Sugarloaf, is nothing terribly special, but I had a vague recollection of reading about it in a car magazine, so I had to check it out.

Old Stage Road has only an average road surface except for a brand new section begining about 7 miles west of Jack Ranch Road (and west from there). The scenery along Old Stage Road is excellent.

Reaching Fountain Springs about 3:30PM, there was no fountain or spring. There was, however, a Saloon. One equipped with all the best drinks, in this case a Diet Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator. Refreshed and with my internal temperature reduced somewhat, I turned east on M-56, which proved to be a very good road. Having seen one excellent road after another, I remarked to myself how surprising it was that something approaching driving heaven could be found near a place as unappealing as Bakersfield.

M-56 ends in a T into M-60, where I turned left (north) and immediately stopped at the Hot Springs Ranger Station. I always stop at a ranger station before camping if I arrive before closing time (generally 4:30PM). The people there know the best camp sites and can tell you what not to miss seeing.

Those of you who are single may wish to stop by this particular station and chat with the cute 28ish lady who works there. She was apparently single, but that bit of information has no practical application for me. Still, a cute gal behind the counter is a sure cure for direction asking deficiency syndrome. I don't know if she even saw the car, but she was intrigued that I was driving such long distances.

Farther up M-60 (which at some point becomes California highway 190) I encountered some free-roaming cattle near the apex of a curve, which is a bad place to stare down a large animal. Not to mention the possibility of a cow pie-initiated slide.

One of them stared at me with about as much awareness as a cow can muster, which isn't much. Like the deer on Day One, I guess he'd never seen an NSX before.

Just as the ranger lady promised, several miles up the road (and higher in altitude) the temperature cooled sufficiently to allow me to open the windows. Finally!

I walked the short "Trail of 100 Giants", took some photos of as much of the tall trees as I could fit in the frame, and set up my tent at the nearby Redwood Meadow campground. Some people drive so they can camp, but I camp so I can drive.

My tent, sleeping bag, and all the other gear was very hot to the touch, almost as if it had been touching the muffler rather than separated by an air space and metal wall. This was not an "ice cream in the trunk" trip, for sure. I washed the car and covered it.

I chose a site that had a beautifully leveled tent area (thanks to the prior occupants), and I didn't even need a sleeping pad. The camp attendant was a car nut, and he chatted with me for a while about the 1964 Mustang that he bought for $300. (I told him about the guy at the Petersen Museum's 11-99 show who had paid $400 for the rotting hulk of a 350GT-H.) He found a matching 289 engine from a junkyard Falcon pickup and had it blueprinted. Then he did something truly incomprehensible and gave it to his teenaged son.

He told me that the car cover was a good idea, because he had found out with the Mustang that the trees drop powdery dried sap onto anything underneath them.

After all the car talk, just before moving on to the next camper, the guy asked me whether I had any food. I said no (I had already eaten it). He said that was good, because a bear paid them a visit last night and raided the garbage cans. Oh.

Since the park guy didn't seem overly concerned, I didn't really worry about it much. I didn't think the car would smell like food, but there was always the chance that a bear would break a window or worse. Maybe less of a chance with the car cover on. Mostly I wondered whether a bear would try to break into my tent. Let's see: a multi-hundred pound animal with razor-sharp claws against single-ply nylon. I think the bear would win that one. I put the camera next to my sleeping bag, figuring that if a bear showed up I would at least get a good photo and at best scare him away with the flash.

As I took a few minutes to plan the next day's route in the waning daylight, a breeze picked up and cooled the air to 72 degrees or so. Wonderful. When my new Sequoia National Forest map was a little hard to fold, I noticed that it was printed on plastic, not paper, for maximum durability. Like the NSX's aluminum body, this was a creative and superior use of advanced materials.

The other campers were quiet as mice, and road traffic was practically nonexistent. As the temperature dropped further, I got in the sleeping bag and zipped it up. With my jet lag, I easily fell asleep when it got dark around 7:30 PM.

An unknown time later I awoke to a loud crashing that sounded exactly like the world's most inept garbage collection crew, tossing garbage cans around to and fro. A few minutes later, the same noise, but much further away. I went back to sleep.

Much later I was treated to another round of garbage can noise. This time I prepared the camera and shone my powerful flashlight briefly toward the garbage cans, which were about 25 yards away. Some trees blocked my view, so I couldn't tell what was making the noise, but I was pretty sure it was the bear. The light didn't discourage him, and no raccoon can bang cans that hard. I waited a while for my confrontation/photo opportunity, but it never came. Who knows whether I would have been brave enough to actually shoot the photo? I went back to sleep, this time for the rest of the night.

Day Five

The pre-dawn light woke me at 5:40AM, about 2 hours later than I had been waking up all week. I had successfully played my jet lag trump card, good for an extra 2 hours of sleep on the Tour.

I took my time packing up, making sure to get a photo of the scattered garbage. I left the campground at 6:40 AM, heading north on M-60/ Highway 190. Naturally, I had the road entirely to myself. The major landmark on this road, the town of Ponderosa, consisted of exactly one general store with a gas pump. The Quaking Aspen campground, which the ranger station lady also recommended to me, looked even a bit nicer than Redwood Meadow. More importantly, its garbage cans were unmolested. Next time I'll camp there.

Highway 190 north of Quaking Aspen was truly remarkable. It's a twisting descent that goes on and on and on and on. Some of the turns are decreasing radius, which requires extra care. But this road definitely qualifies for the Tour's hit parade. Especially at 7:20AM when there's nobody there but you heading down the hill from 7000 feet, and a scant few cars heading up. Going downhill I had the sun behind me, but uphill drivers would be heading into the sun on a road with no passing zones whatsoever. The Tule River canyon narrows near the bottom of the hill, and you have a spectacular view of the gorge as you descend from the east. Too bad about the fire smoke.

If you get a chance to stop at Lower Coffee Camp on the Tule River, do it! It's your classic giant boulder-strewn swimming hole, just 15 steps from the very small parking lot. Show up early with $5 for your parking space, and bring a swim suit, towel, and picnic lunch. Even at 7:51 AM it had already attracted a family with 2 boys. The water is not ice cold, but quite reasonable for swimming. I'll bet the lot is full by 10 AM on weekends. I took a few photos and continued on my way.

Near Springville, I turned north on J37, Balch Park Road. It's a wide road through a farming valley, with a significant amount of local traffic. I mused that the density of farms was less than one sees in France, which I attribute to the fact that California was settled much more recently than Europe. The area of a farm was presumably the amount of land that one family could successfully plant and harvest, which of course is a function of the available technology. With modern machinery, one family can work a much larger farm, and consolidation occurs as sons and daughters seek other occupations.

I could not resist exploring Bear Creek Road, which starts out as a great 2-laner but narrows to one lane after the turnoff for the Gill School of Science and Conservation. This must be a different kind of conservation than that practiced at the Mountain Home Conservation Camp, which is a state prison. That's where, presumably facing may more miles of hazardous single-lane road with the occasional rapidly oncoming vehicle, I gave up and returned to Balch Park Road rather than attempting to complete the loop. With all the cows next to the road, I was grateful that grass does not grow on asphalt: those dumb animals would be right in the middle of the road.

At the Y, I turned left, or west, onto Yokohl Valley Road, which was not very memorable. I turned northeast on Highway 198 and stopped for gas at Lemon Cove.

Dry Creek Road looked promising on the map, but contrarily to its name the creek contained plenty of water, even in August, at least for the first few miles. Dry Creek Road is empty and extremely scenic. It's like a small-scale version of Highway 25, and it reminds me of county road 306 west of Orland. As the valley narrows, the road does too, becoming a one-laner resembling Calaveras Road north of Fremont or Los Gatos Road northwest from Coalinga.

Next, I turned west on Highway 245, which is a great 2-lane road winding down the hill. I briefly checked out Drum Valley Road and found it unsuitable for serious driving. After several more fun miles on 245, I turned right on Boyd Road.

Boyd is scenic and fun, with a bonus: at the western end it descends sharply along a relatively straight canyon wall down to the valley floor. There is absolutely no railing or anything else blocking the view (or your car) downward on the left side of the road. I felt like a real F-16 pilot coming in for a landing.

In order to avoid the traffic from Kings Canyon National Park, I took Highway 63 north. It's straight and dull, then suddenly ascends out of the valley in a series of high-speed curves. Fortunately I was able to quickly pass a pickup towing a horse trailer at a 15 mph crawl.

I jogged east on 180 then continued north on Elwood Road, which passes through an open valley with farms. As the valley narrows down, a Rough Road sign warned of... a perfect new coat of asphalt with a dashed yellow stripe down the center! It was just like a racetrack. My tax dollars at work.

Shortly after the new pavement ended, there was another one of those moments of discovery when I topped a blind crest to see another large valley suddenly appear ahead. Exhilarating.

There's an attractive park next to Kings River, apparently a popular spot for fishing. I crossed the bridge here and turned east on Trimmer Springs Road. Luck was with me, and I had five traffic-free miles going up the hill. When I finally saw Pine Flat reservoir, it was drawn down to more than 100 feet below its full level. Wow, that's a big reservoir basin.

I turned northwest on Maxson Road, a scenic one-laner similar to the narrow section of Calaveras Road.

Watts Road to the north is a 2-lane road, wider and safer. I would have been better off to take Watts Valley Road all the way from the central valley, rather than Trimmer Springs Road and Maxson. Next time.

I caught myself admiring the dash layout of the NSX. On empty country roads, I mostly look at the tachometer, only checking the speedometer when I what to see how far above the advisory speed I am negotiating a curve. It's a nearly perfect layout.

A few miles from Maxson, Watts Valley Road becomes Burrough Valley Road. At that junction was the inviting, very wide, 2-lane Sycamore Road. The sign said No Outlet, as if that could stop me from exploring it. A mile up Sycamore, extensive tire marks gave proof that others had had the same idea. I made a U-turn at the speed bump, which I took as a hint to leave.

Burrough Valley Road terminates at Tollhouse Road. Continuing north, the road changes to Lodge Road. Crossing 168 put me on the very crowded Auberry Road. But I was going someplace that was worth this price of admission. I turned left on Power House Road, following the sign toward North Fork. These roads are as nice as the ones in Tulare County, but the difference is that people live here, and they have the temerity to actually use their roads.

Before heading southeast out of North Fork, I stopped to get gas and a sandwich, and to phone my family in France a few hours before they were to begin their return trip. Four miles later, an ordinary-looking left turn put me on the extraordinary Mammoth Pool Road, also known as Sierra National Forest Road 81.

There were several oncoming vehicles coming down the mountain, but almost nobody going up. Imagine the best fast country road you know, with no other cars and no side roads, continuing for a full 48 miles. It's almost more fun than you can stand.

It was a slight strain for the NSX as well. Although I have Dali Racing's StoneShield which slightly impedes flow through the radiator, near the top of this road was only the second time I have ever seen the temperature gauge move above its normal rock-steady mid-range reading. Both times I had kept the rpms above 5000 in second gear for 20 minutes straight, climbing continuously into the mountains. And like the last time (at the 2000 Canyonball), all I had to do was shift to third gear and back off the throttle a bit, and the temperature returned to normal almost immediately.

I used up the rest of my videotape ascending Mammoth Pool Road. The road reaches 6900 feet elevation, and viewpoints offer vistas of the Minarets and other eastern Sierra peaks over 20 miles across the roadless valley of the Ansel Adams Wilderness, home to the headwaters of the San Joaquin River.

At the top, I started down Forest Road 7, a rough, narrow, single-lane road. When I met the first oncoming pickup truck almost immediately, I decided that a choice between this road and the beautiful Mammoth Pool Road was no choice at all. I made the U-turn and headed back down Mammoth Pool Road. But first I stopped to change into a fresh T-shirt. The old one was soaking wet with sweat over every square inch where my back touched the seat. But the NSX had made the drive reasonably comfortable in spite of the heat.

Resuming the drive, I took a more relaxed pace down the mountain. I thought about my luck in avoiding running over any animals so far. I think the sound of the engine scares the animals into running in random directions, and then they dash away from the car at the last instant. What seems to work well is to anticipate that dash by (generally) moving to the far side of the road to give the animal a chance to dash to its near side.

Sixteen miles down from the top, I turned north toward Beashore Meadows. The road is 6S71 changing to 6S01, but I don't think it's labeled anywhere but on the Sierra National Forest map. Too bad I didn't save any video for this part; this road is quite a roller coaster. Its builders didn't waste any effort to flatten it out. They just paved over every little rise and dip. If you have any tendency to get motion sick, this road will do the job for you. There is hardly a moment that the car isn't accelerating up or down or left or right, and usually it's two of them at once.

The problem is that the road is narrow. There is oncoming traffic, but in most places you have to slow to about 10 mph to safely pass by. With numerous blind turns and some fast-moving pickups, some with trailers, this is a hazardous place to be. But it's a helluva lot of fun. The bumps launch the car in the air as much as you like.

The only other time I drove this road, it was a little too early in the season. Icy drifted snow covered sections of the road, and I was nearly unable to get back out after I finally wised up and turned around. With the temperature this time, some snow would have been welcome.

As I drove the full length of the road, I saw steeply sloped areas where there would have been very large snow drifts on that earlier day, had I proceeded that far. There was nothing but trees o the downhill side to stop a car that left a slippery road surface. Ouch!

This one-lane road is just over 12 miles long, but it seems far longer, with the mental strain of watching intently for oncoming traffic at every blind curve. Still, it's a fun way to complete your Mammoth Pool loop.

At the Forest Road 7 junction I turned left, down the hill. Here, Forest Road 7 has two lanes and is great for driving. The AAA map shows a wide line here and a narrow line beginning just a few miles up from this junction. So it's the upper part of Forest Road 7 that you have to avoid. The lower part follows a river valley, with pine trees on both sides.

The whole loop took me exactly 2 hours to complete. A very entertaining 2 hours. It's right up there with my personal favorite: Highway 1 and Nacimiento Road from Carmel to King City at 7 AM.

At some point, unknown to me at the time, the road changed to Forest Road 10. (The map shows that Forest Road 7 continues to the left.) So I ended up driving back toward North Fork confused as to which road was which. Bass Lake was packed with jet skis, swimmers, and boaters. The surrounding roads were equally packed. If I'd known where I was, I could have headed straight south to Oakhurst from to bottom of Forest Road 10.

After a soda stop and another quick T-shirt change at Oakhurst I took Highway 49 north. Four miles later, I turned left on Road 600. Once the local traffic split off for home, I had this scenic road (good, but not great road surface) to myself. When I saw about a dozen oncoming Harleys, I knew I was on the right road.

From Road 600, I took the excellent Road 415 west to Raymond, then Road 613 north, which is the equal of or better than Road 600. I had intended to continue west on Preston Road, but it proved to be unpaved. Ben Hur Road was a detour, but a superb one. Its southern section is practically a race track, with excellent visibility. The northern section needs resurfacing, but it's empty and fun.

I descended to the Central Valley on California 140 and headed north to Atwater, home of the superb Castle Air Museum. Then I crossed westward on Westside Road and River Road (County Road J18). I made a few mistakes trying to follow the many right-angle turns of River Road, but eventually I reached Patterson, my jumping off point for Del Puerto Canyon Road. Before I did that, I had a little more exploration to do, but I'm keeping that discovery quiet for now. [It was the brand-new access road for Diablo Grande developmnet. See http://www.diablogrande.com

I grabbed a sandwich and gassed up near the intersection of I-5 and Del Puerto Canyon Road about 10 miles after the fuel light went on. It was at this stop that I checked my tires and found that the right rear was severely corded on the inside. Uh, oh.

I had a spare rear tire in the trunk, but it was already 6 PM on a Sunday. Not a good time to find a no-touch machine to mount a tire. I decided to press on, taking it especially easy on right turns. As long as I stayed on the pavement, everything should be OK, even if I had to use the spare tire after a blowout.

I had a different kind of drive on Del Puerto Canyon Road, cruising slowly enough to see all the scenery. It was a quiet way to end my Tour. As I glided through the winding turns near the north end of Mines Road, a perfect red sun hung low in the hazy sky straight ahead, guiding me home.

Post Script and Air Tour

2483 miles in 4.5 days with zero tickets, zero accidents, and zero road kill. A trifecta. My fourth successful Tour de California, exactly matching Lance Armstrong's four successful Tours de France over the same four years.

On the plane trip from LAX to Oakland several days later, I managed to snag a window seat on the left side through a bit of luck: the Southwest Airlines employee occupying it had to move to a jump seat when the 137th passenger showed up. I eagerly surveyed the roads from the air, spotting the awesome Cerro Noroeste for the first time, and seeing that it winds along a ridgeline which descends from the flanks of Mt. Pinos to the flatlands near Taft. You can see many of its curves from the air.

The flight path followed I-5 and the California Aqueduct north over the Central Valley. Highway 58 was too far away to see, but I did spot Highway 46. We passed directly over Coalinga, then I identified Panoche Road and the nearly invisible Little Panoche Road. The San Luis Reservoir was easy to spot as we curved east over I-5. Wispy fog filled some of the valleys toward the Bay.

We turned westward and I spotted two dead-end roads, one of which I have driven and the other not, followed by Del Puerto Canyon Road, which unmistakably follows a river. The backcountry here has many dirt roads and ranches, which are miles from pavement. The flight path passed right over the north end of Mines Road, Lake Del Valle and the San Antonio Reservoir.