I live in Los Angeles, so I don’t have to go far to find the right kind of test riding, from purely urban to exclusively off-road riding. However, with as much experience as I have riding, it’s essentially impossible for me to get lost on a day ride from my home.
I have the street maps of Los Angeles and Orange County tattooed to my hippocampus, so virtually any major intersection is familiar, and you’re never far from one.
All the mountain roads have long since been memorized—not just the locations, but also all the corners. Part of that is so we can efficiently conduct photoshoots—you don’t want to waste the day wandering around, hoping to find the right corners or scenic outlooks.
Dirt bike riding in the desert or mountains has long been my domain. If you’re in the desert, a quick glance at the surrounding mountains instantly tells me where I am. There aren’t as many trails in the nearby National Forests as there should be, and I know them all. Editor At Large Bill Kranhold and I have scouted some trails I have never ridden, though they aren’t far from familiar locales. Associate Editor Freeman Wood and I have found some previously unridden local roads on adventure bikes. Though, as on the dirt bikes, we know where we’re at.
When we got an invite to test the new 2025 Kawasaki KLX230R dirt bike at Hollister Hills State Vehicular Recreation Area, I tagged along uninvited as Associate Editor Kelly Callan got the nod for that ride. The hotel for the event was in Santa Cruz, so I loaded a brand spanking new BMW R 12 nineT into the Average White Ultimate Motorcycling Truck (h/t Super Hunky) so I could ride some relatively unfamiliar roads in the Santa Cruz Mountains. I have ridden there a few times before, though not nearly often enough to be an expert on the area.
My ride plan was a simple one. I’d take off from Santa Cruz to lunch at Alice’s Restaurant via California State Routes 9 and 35 (Skyline Boulevard). From there, State Route 84 down to the beach and State Route 1 south back to Santa Cruz. I would guess that a decent number of people reading this have ridden all, or part of, that loop.
However, I just had to complicate things. I spotted Empire Grade, a spur from SR 9. It looked like a fun route, with plenty of stunning redwood trees. The plan was to make a right on Alba Road and return to the 9.
In my head, Empire Grade ended at a T at Alba Road. When I got there, Alba Road was just a side road. That made me think I was misremembering, which I was. So, I decided to continue on Empire Grade. That turned out great, until Empire Grade dead ended. Crestfallen, I made a U-turn and headed back toward Alba Road.
On the return, an alternative quickly made itself known—Jamison Creek Road. I vaguely remembered seeing it on a map, so down the road I went. I didn’t regret it. The road was tight, so I made use of the Street mode on the R 12 nineT, along with the heated grips—it was in the 50s this Wednesday morning, and that’s cold for me.
When I got to State Route 236 (Big Basin Way), I had to pick left or right. There was no cell service, and signage is vague at best in the Santa Cruz Mountains, so my seat-of-the-pants decision was left. Had I turned right, it would have taken me back to SR 9 and on my merry way.
Instead, I got more redwoods on a highly technical road that sometimes has less than two lanes. Naturally, the only other bikes I came across were adventure bikes, though the new nineT was a fine mount for the ride.
I finally got back to the 9. There, another left turn was executed, as I was confident that was the way to go—it was. I then made the requisite left at Skyline Boulevard to get to Alice’s Restaurant. Now on a famous sportbike road that I have ridden, I was hauling in Dynamic mode.
Unfortunately, I ran into some road construction, which included a flagman. I pulled up, with the boxer idling impatiently. He looked at me and pointed at his wrist, indicating a long wait.
As I was already behind schedule due to my self-induced detours, I headed back toward the famed State Route 17—perhaps the most infamous commuter route in the state.
Inconsistent signage put me on Black Road, yet another technical route, which dumped me off on the 17 nearly in Los Gatos. That means an adrenalin-pumping ride south to Santa Cruz on a road with some genuinely skilled local drivers. Double the speed limit was the norm rather than the exception. I was battling with Porsches and four-wheeled BMWs as the more timid cowered in the right lane in their minivans and Priuses. Everyone knows their role, and the road lived up to its reputation. When I arrived in Santa Cruz, I was tingling from the experience.
I ended up having enough time to tour around Santa Cruz. It’s a bit confusing and crowded, though the variety of people and architecture balances things out. I rode by the famed Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, checked out the iconic century-old Giant Dipper wooden roller coaster, and rode out to the end of the Santa Cruz Wharf for calamari and chips at Stagnaro Bros., a seafood staple since 1937.
With a contented stomach, I rode back to the Chaminade Resort & Spa after an unsuccessful attempt to check out historic Capitola—its wharf dates back to the 1850s! I loaded the BMW R 12 nineT in the truck and off I went to retrieve Kelly from the clutches of Kawasaki.
It has been a while since I’ve gotten lost, and it was a great experience. Admittedly, you can only get so lost in the Santa Cruz Mountains—you’re always close to either the Pacific Ocean or San Francisco Bay. Still, it was close enough for me, and I loved it—even if I didn’t get that meal at Alice’s Restaurant.
