Newcomb’s Ranch
It was hot as stink in the Los Angeles basin so I took a ride up to
Newcomb’s Ranch on the Angeles Crest Highway. I went up Route 2 past the
La Canada Flintridge Country Club and on up into the San Gabriel
Mountains. After making the climb I drove on past the Mount Wilson
Observatory road towards Newcomb’s, about 10 miles beyond. Newcomb’s
Ranch is a little jewel of a place surrounded by the Angeles National
Forest. The temperature was 97 degrees as my car pulled in to the lot,
too hot for a lot of people to be gathered at this watering hole famous
for the eclectic mix of bikers who frequent it. It is a common
destination for 2 wheelers throughout the southland, and it is not
uncommon to see everything from the high-end technical team crotch
rocket to the tricked out custom hog, and everything in between. And
today would be no different.
I asked the bartender, Darrin, what the elevation
was. He replied that the barstool I was sitting on was 5380 feet above
sea level. You heard it here. I ordered a couple of O’Douls, and they
arrived ice-cold. It seemed to be a pretty common order for the riding
set as I saw trays of them whisked outside to the picnic tables. Darrin
said that the temperature reached triple-digits for a few hours
yesterday, and that is damn hot up here.
I had a sandwich in the relative coolness of the bar. It was quiet; people were lounging around inside and out. It was too hot for much talk. A couple of riders pulled up on two powerful and beautiful Ducatis, they wore professional Team Ducati leathers that must have been hot.
I finished and went outside to the benches in the shade. A couple of riders were enjoying cigars and talking quietly. The smoke smelled fine and I told them so. They nodded in appreciation. I nodded off as the hot weather post-meal nap came over me in the shade. People came and went; I was oblivious to it all. After an hour or so Ie got up and stretched, it was time to go. It was nice to see that even on a hot day like this, Newcomb’s was still Newcomb’s.
