Highway To Heaven – Drive

7/24/16

I guess I don’t need to say it again, but I just can’t help myself.  The drive yesterday was heavenly.  After an unexpected cleaning of my windows and a shake of my head at the ash and soot coating my car, I left the house and headed towards Topanga Canyon, where I would exit and get on to Mulholland Highway.  The drive to Topanga was uneventful, but I did notice that the temperature was unusually hot.  As I crested Mulholland on the 405 at 6:45 in the morning, it was already over 80 degrees.

Heading out on Mulholland, I saw an even more unusual sight.  The smoke from the Sand Canyon fire near Agua Dulce had blown out over West LA and Malibu.  The effect was somewhat surreal, and the sun was an unusual color of red.  The drive up Mulholland was great.  No cars were out and I opted to stop at the top of the snake to take a couple of pictures of the smoke on the horizon.

After that I took Kanan back to the 101 North and headed for Ventura.  Despite my best intentions, I was a little later than I planned and pushed the pace a little on the way to breakfast.  I arrived in Ventura and stopped to get gas right next to the restaurant where we were meeting.  No gas station ever looked better, as at least three Porsches were getting gas at the same time, two of them Caymans.

I ate a quick breakfast with Bob and his wife, Gail, and then went outside for the drivers’ meeting.  We had  26 Porsches on the drive, so the organizers decided we would split into two groups, leaving about 15 to 20 minutes apart.  This decision was not made because 26 cars in a line is impossible to maintain, because it is, but because it would minimize the impact on the staff at the restaurant where we were stopping for lunch.

I went in the second group.  While waiting to leave I took a few pictures and played with the walkie talkie.  We were split up at the outset, but our run group met at the base of Highway 33 just past the stop sign in Ojai to reform.  From there, we tore up the highway to heaven, stopping at the scenic lookout near the Pine Mountain turnoff.  This segment comprised about one third of the pre-lunch drive, but it is my favorite part, as we climb about 4,000 feet up to the lookout, negotiating an endless series of gentle inclines (at least in a car) and sweeping turns that bring out the best in my Cayman.

At the outlook, we stopped for a few minutes, took some pictures, and just gawked at the beauty of the view.  The Cayman sounds great in the city.  Out on the open road, with the sport exhaust on and the PKD in manual mode with the engine revving between 4,000 and 6,000 rpm, the exhaust note is just amazing.  Even from Porsche owners, the car gets a lot of compliments on its sound.  Yesterday was no exception.

From there we got back on the 33 and headed out towards Lockwood Valley Road, where we exited to the right and towards Frazier Park.  The Lockwood Valley Road has very little in common with Highway 33.  It passes through rugged, backwoods country.  It has many 10 MPH corners.  It has a roller coaster like feel, traversing several washes, where runoff water frequently flows, Porsches bottom out, and motorcycles catch serious air.  It takes lots of energy and serious attention to drive on this road at speed.  At one point going across a flat section, I slowed down and just looked around at the scenery.  When I looked back up all the Porsches in front of me were gone.  I mean they just vanished.  I was actually the last in line at this point, as the cars behind me had fallen way back.  I couldn’t believe it.  I was alone.  I knew where I was going and I have the route right next to me on the seat and I had the walkie talkie, but none of that mattered.  I was alone.  I had lost the others.  I was stunned.  I had not even noticed that they sped up or I slowed down.  I mean it was not gradual.  I was not lagging behind.  I looked up and they were just gone.  Unbelievable.  The reality was that they were about 20 to 30 seconds ahead of me, but for all intents and purposes, they were gone.

I kept driving, assuming I would see them eventually.  Finally, I a high point in the road and could see them in the distance.  Unfortunately for me, two cars turned onto the road ahead of me and slowed me down further.  I passed them when I had the chance, but by then it was too late.  I would have to meet up with the rest of the group at lunch, which I did about 10 minutes later.

Lunch was very nice, and soon we were back on the road to head towards home.  A few of us needed gas, so we invaded a gas station alongside Interstate 5.  The station was huge, but when about 13 Porsches parked around the pumps the excess space disappeared in a hurry.  We received some interesting looks from the other patrons while we waited.

We got on Interstate 5 for a couple of miles and exited at Gorman.  We then got on Gorman Post Road for a little bit before turning left onto Lancaster Highway and then right onto Old Ridge Road.  The unmaintained, historic road was THE ONLY way to get from Los Angeles to Bakersfield in decades past.  It has not been maintained for some time, but we were able to drive down to Lake Hughes Road on it.  That portion was unbelievably fun and even more unbelievably scary.  The road has no lane markings.  The road has no signs alerting the driver to the radius of the upcoming turns.  The road has no lane line markings.  The road is just about wide enough for two cars to pass by each other at slow rates of speed, something we were not doing, as we flew down it.  The road has no lane markings.  Thankfully, the road had no traffic.

Eventually we turned onto Lake Hughes Road, drove a few miles and stopped at the Ostrich Farm, which was really cool, despite the 105+ degrees of heat.  After a small donation to the ostriches and a chance to feel the heft of an ostrich egg, I headed down Lake Hughes Road to Castaic Lake.  Lake Hughes Road holds a special place in my heart and a not so special place in my stomach.  The last time I was carsick, 36 years ago, was while Pam and I were going up Lake Hughes Road.  I do not get carsick.  Pam was driving, AS much as I would like to blame her driving for my issues, I just can’t.  She is partially at fault, though, as my issues were a direct result of drinking too much the night before at my bachelor party.

On the way down, I am pretty sure I saw the exact place I asked her to pull over.  I really had no business being on a windy road that day, but Pam and I were picking out our puppy at the breeder who had a place off the Lake Hughes Road, leaving me little choice.

The ride home was pretty awful.  It was 110 degrees at Castaic, and the smoke from the Sand Canyon fire, while not exactly over the road, was just off to the east.  I was in the left lane driving down the 5.  I could not help looking at the smoke.  I was amazed at the amount of smoke in the sky.  I was amazed at how dark it was at 3 pm in the afternoon.  I was amazed that fire fighters would venture deep into the fire and risk their lives to save lives and property of others.  I knew I needed to memorialize this.  So I turned on my camera, lowered my window, aimed my camera out the window, and without looking snapped a few pcitures of the scene playing out to my left.  I could not believe just how hot the cabin got in just a few seconds.  Despite the heat, I felt a chill as I headed home.