While riding up to Laguna Seca for the MotoGP races, I wrote a touring story highlighting the Pacific Coast Highway in California and the journalists that ride it’s winding asphalt. RoadBike Magazine featured it this year before this year’s race weekend. Here’s an except:
Amidst the hullabaloo and heat of summertime vacationing traffic there’s a migration happening, a two-wheeled caravan travelling half a state a way, sometimes more. Each July, these motor heads turn a wheel towards the California Coast not to traverse the scenic beauty of the Pacific Coast Highway, nor the ocean-dipped setting sun, but to watch the faster of their breed ride, nay, race at the first of two GP stops in America, Laguna Seca!
Every year, like clockwork (for the last 8 or 9 years for me anyway) I load up this year’s press-pool stallion with camera and camping supplies and join the usual band of journalistic mutts and their satellite friends for the 350-mile straight-line journey from Southern California to the Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca. Of course we do it in our own special kind of way by piling that 350-mile line of asphalt into a plate of spaghetti nearly 450 miles long. Our privileged pack of pressmen (and occasionally women) race pylons North to meet up with the grandest collection of sportbikes-carrying-sleeping-bags this side of the Mississippi.