I’ve previously posted about taking a long trip on the motorcycle. I figure that the week immediately following my upcoming half-marathon would probably be the week, if any, that I could do such a thing this summer. The rest of the weeks would be full of running nonsense that would make the trip untenable. Angie, not being one to pass up an adventure, also wants to participate on the trip. After our day ride to Eugene and back it was clear to me that she wouldn’t be making the trip on the motorcycle with me for various reasons; pain being the most vibrant of them. With both of us on the bike there are a limited number of positions to ride in. All of which, after three plus hours, result in pain. So we decided that on upcoming long trips that she’d travel separately. Currently that means she’ll be following in the car, or SAG wagon as I like to call it.
On May 7th through May 9th, we decided to test the plan. The route (linked here) would take us into parts of Oregon and Washington that we hadn’t explored yet.
Friday, May 7th:
We both started the day at our respective offices. At 3:00 we headed out and met up at a convenient Chipotle in Tualatin along I-5. After our early dinner we headed out stopping in Salem for gasoline. Originally I hadn’t planned on stopping in Salem for gas based on a recommendation from a co-worker, but Angie’s tank was near dry so there really wasn’t a choice. Good thing we did because as we zipped through the town suggested by the co-worker nary a gas station was in site.
The day was gorgeous and I didn’t need to don the rain gear (to cut down wind chill) for some time. It wasn’t until we started getting into altitude that the temperature started to dip from the high 60’s. I threw on my rain pants on the shoulder near a dam along state route 22 when the temperature hit 60. It’s a good thing that I did stop because shortly after that the shoulder disappeared and the temperature dropped into the 50’s. I’m not sure which pass in the Cascade Mountain range we went through, but it was amazing. Just before the pass there was still snow on the ground continuing all the way through, which I had been expecting based off of trips to Mt. St. Helens. The roads were clear with the exception of the red pumice that they use to help prevent slipping. By this time the temperature was in the mid-40’s. I rode on through the spooky silence that I’ve come to associate with mountains and altitude.
As we descended the other side of the mountain the temperature started to go up again. It’s still neat with change temperatures like that due to altitude. I’m sure someday after the Illinois flatlander training wears off it’ll be old hat, but for now it is cool.
As I rode passed out of Sisters I encountered my first animal, of many in this trip, in the road. What I suppose was a female deer and young deer were hanging out in the road. The largest of them was in the oncoming lane. I slowed and we gave each other the evil eye. It turned and walked back onto the shoulder. Without re-telling the whole thing, a story about a fellow rider who met a donkey on the road while in Mexico came to mind. His story didn’t end so brightly, and I wasn’t about to take a chance.
We drove through high desert, and what a difference to the West side of the Cascades. Scrub brushes all around. Little ground cover except for the cattle farms which had imported grass that was barely hanging on to life. I would like to spend some more time, on a future ride, exploring that environment.
We powered on into Bend, arriving somewhere around 7:00-ish. After getting squared away in the Red Lion in Bend we went on the search for a snack. We ended up at Deschutes Public House. There we had some yummy appetizers and I had two big beers.
Saturday, May 8th:
The day started with complementary breakfast at the hotel. Wow, what a mistake. While it was free, the scrambled eggs could have bounced higher than the building. Putting my culinary sensitivities aside I reminded myself that it still tasted better than some of the camp food we’d tested recently. Seeing the hotel in the light of day it made me think of the motel from National Lampoons Vacation — specifically the one scene where Chevy Chase starts to hook up with the blond (who’s name escapes me) in the pool before his kids break in on the scene. Again, I remind myself that the room is warmer than a campsite, and less expensive than some of the other options in town — we’re not there to be comfortable, but to have a heater.
After waiting for the temperature to get above 45 we head out on a run. Unfortunately we didn’t get too far due to Angie’s shin pains, forcing us to limp back to the hotel and finish the run in their work out room located in the dungeon. The work out room had equipment from the early 1990’s, and a TV set whose volume you couldn’t raise high enough to hear over the pounding of my feet on the treadmill. So we watched Empire Records in near silence making up our own dialogue for the movie as the scenes unfolded. If my IT career ever fails I may be able to locate work as a screen writer.
We took the car into the heart of Bend for lunch. Eating at Bend Brewing Company we had some yummy brews. After that we headed over to the Deschutes Brewery on the West end of town for the brewery tour. That is one great tour. If you’re in Bend, and like beer, go. Don’t ask, just go.
After the brewery tour we wandered around town, via car, to see what there was to be seen. We drove up Pilot Butte Park. Originally I’d had it on our running route. Well, it turns out that it is a small hill, about 200 feet, above the rest of the town. After having seen that I’m glad that we spent the time in the dungeon. My stubbornness would have driven me up and down the hill. However, I would have crashed for the rest of the day at the hotel with various expressions of pain ruling my body. The top of the hill is cool. You can see all the mountains and the surrounding desolation. Very different from the urban sprawl of my youth, and the mini-urban sprawl of the Portland area. Bend really is in the middle of nothing.
Sunday, May 9th:
Another disappointing complementary breakfast awaited. Again I told myself that it was free, better than the camping food, and would do the trick for a long ride. Afterward forcing it down we headed back to the room to pack up and call our Mother’s and wish them a happy Mother’s Day. After the wishing of happiness we started on our way.
Heading North out of Bend we rode up and down and up and down hills as we followed US route 97, looking for state route 293. We pulled over and consulted the almighty iPhone map when we were within a city limits (otherwise we had no service) and found that we were still on course.
Never let it be said that the state of Oregon is not thrifty when it comes to signage, nor that it dislikes surprises. Approaching a fork in the road I see a sign pointing to the right for various towns and things. As I’m passing the fork at about 60 MPH I see the state route 293 sign down other road a ways. I slam on my breaks and make the turn. Luckily Angie was paying attention and didn’t run over me. That would have been an interesting story for our insurance agent had something happened.
Once on state route 293, and heading East, the land began to change. Gone were the hills, and here were the twist-ies. Left, right, left, right, left, right. Hello technical riding. Absolutely amazing scenery. Valleys to the left, hills to the right. Words simply don’t do justice. It was hard to keep my eyes on the road as we weaved through. Then came state route 218.
On route 218 Oregon decided to reduce the use of guard rails on the cliff sides of the road to nil. Not a guard rail in sight, yet sheer cliffs in abundance. I had no trouble keeping my eyes on the road for this part. Not having done so would have lead to instant death. We were now in the Eastern low desert. The temperature was decidedly warmer than the previous two days, foliage sparser, and the critters much different.
Cue the next animal in the road. At first I thought it was a leaf, but then realized that it was scurrying into the wind. I thought it must be a ground squirrel or something. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, and I’m fairly certain my rear tire ended the poor things life abruptly. Then came the next animal. This time it was a herding dog. It was in the road, but then hopped down the embankment after a little boy it was hanging out with. As I approached it bounded back up the embankment and watched from the opposite shoulder and I slowly passed by with the chasing dog avoidance technique running through my head.
We stopped at the John Day Fossil Bed to stretch our legs. There I saw a relative of the unknown critter that may have met my tire in an unpleasant fashion. It was a little lizard, about four inches long. Probably a cute little thing if you’re into lizards, but I’m not. While stretching our legs there I learned something new: there are rattle snakes in Eastern Oregon. It makes sense, but it was the first time I’d ever seen warning signs regarding rattle snakes anywhere. Back on the bike, and the journey continued.
On the way to Fossil I was attacked by birds. Likely due to the amount of chicken I eat, it was time for some revenge. In my lane as I rounded a corner a wild turkey was staring me down. It got out of the way as I quickly decelerated. No sooner had I evaded the wild turkey a short time later a hawk of some sort dove out of the sky at me. It was either trying to freak me out, or decided that I didn’t quite look like the squirrel that it had thought I was at several hundred feet in the air. It swerved off, but not before I had started to come up with an evasive maneuver. Let it be known that motorcycle classes do no prepare you for dive bomb attacks.
Fossil is a quaint little town where you can dig for fossils on the far side of the high school’s football field. After eating lunch at the Big Timber diner we headed over and tried our luck at fossil digging. Pretty much each rock you’d pull out of the ground had a fossil cast (impression) in it. Mostly leaves and some trace fossils (worm burrows). I would have had more fun and gotten into it had I not been thinking of the long ride ahead of me.
We headed North out of Fossil and split off to the West at state route 206. This took us through windmill territory. Again we were in the sizable hills (mountains to flatlanders). It was really neat as you’d be riding up this hill, seeing the crest I’d start getting ready for a turn, but then this huge windmill blade would travel up and over the horizon and back down. There were a lot of windmills, but that sight never got old. Especially considering that they stand several stories in the air, to see the top of the blade come over the horizon is neat.
We made it to the Oregon/Washington border and crossed over. Taking state route 14 west we headed back towards Portland. Unlike I-84 in Oregon which is lower and closer to the Columbia River, route 14 runs along the top of the Columbia River valley on the Washington side. It seemed that once I crossed over that the temperature first jumped up to 70, then to nearly 80 degrees, from the mid-60’s it had been in Oregon. At the first chance, the rain pants came off along with the long sleeve shirt I’d been wearing under my jacket. The other side of the river was interesting. We’d never been over there and saw a lot of things that we’ll probably travel back to see.
I liked the rural aspect of traveling on route 14, but I can’t help but wonder how much time we would have saved if we’d used I-84 as I had originally planned when I laid out the trip. We rolled into Vancouver around 6:00 PM for a bite to eat at Chipotle. Totally unplanned, but Chipotle bookended our trip. By this point the weather was starting to turn so back on went the rain pants and off we went. We rode through Vancouver to get to I-5 instead of taking I-205. Probably extended our trip time wise, but by that time I didn’t want to deviate from the plan since I was becoming tired and didn’t want to think about new directions in addition to keeping the bike on its wheels.
No sooner had I gotten to the bottom of the ramp leading onto I-5, but my second favorite warning light came on. My oil level was low and needed replenishing. Having experienced this light before when in Eugene a couple of weeks earlier I was prepared. I pulled over to the shoulder of I-5 and started to take my motorcycle apart. To get oil into the engine, there is a special key that lives in the tool pouch, that resides under my seat. Off came the seat, out came the tool pouch, out came the key, up on the center stand the bike went, and in went the remainder of the quart of oil from Eugene. I’ve read online that eating oil is a normal thing for an engine like mine to do, but I do want to check with the dealer just to make sure. Once topped off, back went the key, the tool pouch, the seat, and off I went.
Pulling into Forest Grove around 7:15 PM it was clear that there had been quite a rain shower as everything was drenched. While I wouldn’t have minded the rain, luckily I never encountered more than a few drops. After having spent nearly eleven hours on the road I was wiped out. Sleep came easily.
Trip Summary:
It was a really fun trip. I saw things that I’d like to go back and explore more. I want to spend some more time in Eastern Oregon exploring the desert. Angie did a pretty good job of following me. Although when in the urban environment of Vancouver I thought that she could have followed closer because I had to slam on my brakes a couple of times as to not be separated at traffic signals. As always her company did make the trip much more enjoyable than if I had done it on my own. Best of all, based off of my experiences I think I’ll be able to plan a much more reasonable and enjoyable trip in June.
Pictures:
Click here (picture link) to see some pictures from the trip.