Elegant
Seclusion
When choosing a resort, Mike and I agree hands down on what we require: an
incomparable spa, privacy, fine linens, superior concierge service and a
welcoming pet policy. The secluded and verdant Rancho Valencia Spa and Resort
nestled in the coastal foothills not only fulfilled our desires, but assured
easy access to great rides for Mike as well as plenty of girlie activities for
me—not to mention great walks for Hank, our furry-faced family member.
 Rancho Valencia is comprised of 49 luxury casitas, many
overlooking the 18 tennis courts, surrounded by lush foliage and an orange grove
that only Southern California can boast. The ultra-comfortable king-sized bed,
cozy fireplace, flat-screen TV, wet bar, and secluded terrace with a four-person
Jacuzzi may well keep you pajama-clad for the length of your stay. Certainly,
the oversized bathroom’s billowing Mr. Steam-equipped shower claimed much of
Mike’s post-ride evening. Had it not been for the opulent spa and inviting
restaurant steps from our casita, there was a chance that room service might be
our only contact with the outside world.
 HIS RIDING STYLE
Helmet: Shoei RJ Platinum R; Eyewear: Harley-Davidson Profile Jacket: Schott One Star Perfecto; Gloves: Star Basic Leather Pants: Levi Strauss Signature; Boots: Wesco Boss
HER RIDING STYLE
Helmet: Scorpion Solid 700; Jacket: Lost World Easy Ryder Gloves: Shift Dynasty; Pants: Lucky Brand Jeans Easy Rider; Boots: Taryn Rose Quincy Riding Boots.
Photograph by Tony Aguirre. (Click image to enlarge)
The next morning, after relaxing over breakfast on our terrace
in Frette bathrobes, venturing outside proved rewarding. Strolling around the
fragrant and flourishing grounds, we discovered hidden garden nooks with quaint
benches while Hank uncovered errant tennis balls. After our stroll I enjoyed a
Vichy treatment, a full body hydrotherapy shower and body scrub followed by a
90-minute massage, while Mike explored backroads near the resort. Later, we
reconvened fireside for a champagne recap. Mike was soon whisked away to a
treatment room for some post-ride untangling, while I returned to the room to
dress for dinner. Our concierge had booked us a table at perhaps North County’s
finest restaurant, Market, in nearby Del Mar.
 Photograph by Gary Payne. (Click image to enlarge)
At the warm hued, mid-century-styled bistro, we were treated to
chef Carl Schroeder’s tasting menu, which included a delicious avocado soup with
goat cheese, potato cakes with delicate, crispy salmon, and impossibly tender
cabernet braised beef ribs with whipped sweet onion potatoes and glazed
cipollini onions. Each morning, Schroeder selects his produce from nearby Chino
Farms and designs his menu around the best of the day’s yield. The result is a
dining experience bursting with rich, local flavors and unique combinations.
Dessert is a thoughtful chocolate tasting of soufflé tart, a tiny bittersweet
mint shake and a lovely French macaroon.
Somewhere between contentment and delirium, we returned to the
Ranch
for one final night and a reluctant farewell, although not before phoning
our attorney to inquire about squatter’s rights.
Fresh Horses, and
Pie
After two breezy days spent patrolling the coast on the Moto
Guzzi, I hankered for some homegrown Milwaukee growl and crisp mountain air.
While Holly spent the afternoon by the pool and took care of our checkout, I
swapped the retro-Carabinieri mount for a Harley-Davidson Road King Classic and
beat it eastward towards the piney gold rush town of Julian, taking Highway 67,
which transitions into Highway 78 just beyond the rugged low-mountain town of
Ramona.
 Photograph by Tony Aguirre. (Click image to enlarge)
The classically chromed Road King ate up the rolling
chaparral’s gentle curves with surprising athleticism. Traffic was light for a
state highway, making the uphill romp all the more gratifying. Leaning the
whitewalls over as the scrub whisked by had me gleefully gulping bugs for miles.
The Twin-Cam 96 mustered plenty of torquey midrange to propel the 760-pounder up
the through the sweepers toward Santa Ysabel, where rock- and tree-lined canyon
curves give way to expansive vistas of Oak dotted hills and undulating
valleys.
The old mining town of Julian is a celebrated destination for
motorcyclists. Known more today for its ambrosial apple crop and the Harleys
lining Main Street than for its Gold Rush heritage, Julian is an ideally rustic
pit stop to divide a day of mountain touring—a place where cowboy hats outnumber
ball caps, and even the grocery store looks like a saloon.
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