Ride report: Day 2, The Big Trees

When I left Coos Bay it was clear, sunny, and pleasant. Not too warm out, not too cold, either. I had little traffic heading south on 101. I gassed up in Bandon and continued on, seeing more motorcycles this time, all cruisers. Even the scary bearded hard-core Harley guy waved back. I stopped waving at cows, though, because they never waved back. Jerks.

My lunch destination was a cafe in Brookings. When I got there the sign on the bank said it was 62 degrees already, at 10:45 in the morning. The Pacific was almost dead calm, too. The cafe had changed names but I went in anyway. I was the only customer and got great service, with some good conversation with the owner to go with my grilled turkey sandwich and outstanding homemade clam chowder.

It didn't take long to cross the border into California. Just after crossing the Klamath River, I pulled off onto the "Coast Road", the detour a local V-Strom rider showed me the previous year. Part of the road is gravel and I hit a wicked pothole but apparently my bike suffered no damage from it. Just after the gravel road turns back into pavement again, I was amidst the Tall Trees.

I flipped up my helmet, put it in second, and slowly cruised amidst the giants. The smell was incredible, and my neck was beginning to ache from looking up so much. Even though I had been on that same road a year earlier, I was amazed at how massive those trees really are. It's difficult to describe and photos don't do it justice. It's like the difference between telling someone an AC/DC concert is loud and actually being in the audience.

Cal Barrel road came up and I turned left only to discover that the road had been gated. There was a small hiking path that curved around the left side of the gate so I took a chance and creeped my bike around it. Fortunately I made it without damaging my side cases or falling over. I rode the quarter mile up to the Remembrance Grove and parked my bike amidst the giants.

Within a minute or two of dismounting and getting my helmet and jacket off I heard voices. Coming down the road were two guys, hiking back down the hill. They glanced at me but didn't seem to care if I was there or not. Apparently their conversation was more engrossing than an imposing "Spaceman Spiff" figure on a street bike up a closed dirt road in the middle of the redwood forest.

I took a few pictures and laid down on the bench there for a few minutes, just soaking it all in. It really feels like some sort of cathedral of nature. I was also amazed at how straight the trees are. I saw a few with burls on this trip and was blown away at how big they were. Those things could be the size of a VW Bug!

Eventually it was time to leave. I crept my way back around the gate and continued down the road until I met back up with hwy 101 south. Soon after I saw a herd of elk on the side of the road. I stopped to take a quick picture. Most were scraggly yet tall cows, with maybe two bulls mixed in. Their antlers were new, maybe a foot long, and covered in velvet.

Just south of Crescent City is a fast stretch of 35-45 mph curves through some really big trees. I pulled over and strapped a special video camera onto the top of my right side case and hit the record button. I zoomed through the turns fairly quickly, capturing the entire sequence in video. The video is here on YouTube. Once out of the trees I got stuck behind a string of very slow cars, led by a CHP patrol car. I pulled over and stopped recording, putting my camera away. I never recorded any more footage the rest of the trip, mostly because I didn't have anywhere to put it.

I pulled into Eureka at 2:30 PM and lower 70 degree temps. This time I stayed at the Super 8 rather than the very scary Motel 6 on the other end of town. The rooms were cheap, and worth it. A scary looking blonde lady kept smoking cigarettes on the balcony above my room them tossing them down onto the pavement next to my bike, without even snuffing them out first!

Dinner was a 7-block walk down to the Lost Coast Brewery. It's a rowdy place and I like their beer. The sandwich I had was heavy on the bread and light on the fillings. I bought a hat for my wife and I as souvenirs.

At 2:30 AM that night I awoke to what sounded like a race riot about to begin outside my door. Apparently a small group of black guys were picking a fight with a small group of white guys. Looking out the little security hole in my door I could see them clustered around my bike. They really wanted to fight but apparently none had the stomach to actually go through with it. After much wailing and gnashing of teeth they eventually cooled off and went into their separate rooms -- on either side of me! From what I could hear they knew each other. Bizarre.

Ride report: Boogie to the Redwoods, Day 1

Watching the weather forecast is something I do a lot of in the spring. We've had such crazy winter-like weather here in Oregon the past few months that chances to ride have been few and far between. When I saw the 7-day forecast showing several nice days in a row, I sprung into action by making some reservations, booking a few days off of work, and planned an impromptu trip down to the redwoods of northern California.

(The reason for this particular destination is that it doesn't involve crossing any mountain passes where snow is likely to linger well into May this year.)

It was raining lightly when I left the house at my usual 8:30 AM departure time. I gassed up in Eagle Creek and headed through Estacada and Molalla before turning south. It rained off and on all the way to Marcola, just outside of Springfield, my first stop of the day. I visited with my in-laws and ate lunch, gassed up again and got onto I-5 southbound. The rain had stopped and it was now mostly sunny, so the riding experience was much nicer.

Leaving I-5, I took highway 38 westbound through Drain and Elkton. Just outside of Reedsport, along the Umpqua River, is a series of large fields where elk usually congregate. They were there but weren't in a place where I could pull over safely so I had to ride past, pictureless. So far I had only seen two other motorcyclists, and they were heading northbound on I-5 around Cottage Grove.

I got to Coos Bay around 4:20 PM and checked into the Red Lion. My room was nice and a fairly good value for the price. It wasn't cheap, but when it comes to motels, you really do get what you pay for. Dinner was a shrimp salad in the non-smoking sports bar. I slept well that night, knowing the weather would be even nicer the next day.

The Rider's Itch

It's late March and we have a forecast of snow tonight and tomorrow night. It rains six days out of seven and the one day a week it's sunny, or at least dry, I'm mowing the lawn or tackling other chores. Getting out on two wheels is difficult.

I feel like those two kids in Cat In The Hat.

The urge to get out on a multi-day trip is driving me crazy. I spend more time than I should in Google Maps planning out possible routes, paying special attention to trips that don't require riding over mountain -- snow-covered -- passes. The idea of taking the same trips as last year occurred to me, but with the twist of riding them in reverse order.

I'm really itching to ride.

The other side of a classic river

I live in Oregon. When I need to travel along the Columbia River I do so on Interstate 84. It's fast, and less boring than most interstate freeways. But there's another side to that mighty river that doesn't get the respect it deserves.

Washington state road 14 (SR14) follows the Columbia River from Vancouver on the west to it's junction with Highway 395 to the east, which lies just north of Hermiston and Umatilla, Oregon. The road is in great shape and offers a diverse range of scenery and terrain.

This past weekend I rode my V-Strom to visit my Dad at his home in Hermiston. I decided to take SR14 the whole way. From where I work in Gresham I backtracked west to I-205 and crossed the Columbia there. Then I got on SR14 and rode East. The road winds up and down several cliffs above the river, offering some fantastic viewpoints. The road is two lanes the entire way but has narrow shoulders in many places. The road surface is in great shape, however. Sometimes slow cagers can get in your way and it's important to keep and eye out for John Q. Law, but other than that it's a great run.

From Vancouver to the junction with Higway 97, just north of Biggs, Oregon and just south of Goldendale, Washington several towns are found at seemingly evenly spaced intervals. Gas and food are both available at most of them. Once you pass east of 97, however, it's 82 miles of nothing. Absolutely nothing. No gas, no food, nothing. Because the bridge to Biggs is closed, the last gas available is a quarter mile north on 97 at a Shell station/minit-mart.

The views to the Oregon side of the Columbia River Gorge are amazing. The cliffs and hillsides are rugged and majestic and as good, if not better, than most other terrain features I've seen all over the entire Western U.S., including the run up to Lolo Pass in Idaho. The Gorge is in my own backyard so to speak and I have taken this route for granted by sticking to I-84.

Once past Dallesport, however, the terrain flattens and becomes more arid but no less dramatic. It's not until you go east beyond the junction with 97 that things get boring. Even then, however, it's more exciting than the Oregon side of the river.

The trip from Gresham, across 205, and east on SR14 to Hermiston took 4.5 hours with several small stops.

Another Sunday down the Valley

It was another sunny Sunday and the smell of menudo cooking drove me out of the house and out on two wheels. I headed south through my usual off-season route to Silverton. But instead of stopping for lunch I continued on until I reached the tiny town of Scio.

There were a lot of riders out but not a single V-Strom could be found other than my own. The more miles I put on this bike (I'm at 10,000 now) the more I love it. It's performance and comfort far exceed it's very meager cost. Every time I go on a day ride like today's I yearn for my first big trip of the year. I'm not sure where I'm going on the first trip, but I'd imagine it will be the southern Oregon and northern California coast. The redwoods are fantastic and I don't have to ride over any mountain passes to get there. Other than a very high likelihood of rain I don't anticipate weather being a factor.

Astoria and Jewel Elk

Mike and I spent Saturday on a loop trip to Astoria and back.

It was clear but cool when I left my house in Sandy at 7:40AM. I got to Mike's house in Scappoose an hour and 10 minutes later. We checked out his new bike, a 2005 Suzuki M50, dubbed "Big Red", then headed over to the gas station to fuel up. Because it was still cold and we were leery of hitting icy spots, we decided to take Hwy 30 up the Columbia to Astoria, then loop back through the coast range through Jewel and Mist instead of the other way around.

Within 20 miles of Astoria we hit some drizzle but it wasn't much to worry about. Mike and I pulled into a small state park overlooking the river for a bio break. We were getting hungry and lunch time was approaching so we decided to stop in Astoria for some grub.

Stephanie's wasn't too busy when we parked our bikes and headed inside. Astoria was overcast and there was an occasional mist in the air. Mike ate a Reuben sandwich and I ordered biscuits and gravy. The food was adequate but not overwhelming. Our waitress looked like Laverne's friend, Shirley, and the other waitress was probably a meth head based on the fact that we couldn't understand a single word she said, and everything she said was funny enough (to her) to warrant laughing out loud.

Two older guys came out of the restaurant as we were gearing up to head out and chatted with us quite a while about our bikes. One made the audacious claim that he had recently purchased a 1994 BMW RS1100 in excellent shape for a mere $1,000. If that was true I wonder if he could get me a good deal on some beach-front property in Aspen.

We had more mist on our face shields as we turned inland and headed into the coast range. Highway 202 was very bumpy and rough, with lots of gravel in the roadway. The damage from recent storms was evident everywhere. We could see where creeks had risen above their banks and flooded surrounding areas. The riding was slow because of the road conditions but we took our time and maintained a good pace.

Eventually we made it to the Jewel elk viewing area and were not disappointed. There were probably 50-60 elk in the field, half bulls in the velvet and the other half cows. We snapped several pictures, then continued eastward.

By the time we got back to Scappoose we had dry pavement and clearing skies. Mike's fuel light came on and I was getting tired, so we parted ways after a handshake and a "Great ride!" His loop was roughly 180 miles and mine was approximately 275 by the time the day was done.

Riding in the Valley of the Sun

I just returned from a short vacation to Phoenix. The contrast is dramatic between the mid 70's and sunshine found in the Valley of the Sun and the gray rain of my home turf east of Portland, Oregon. I saw many motorcycles out and about in Arizona, with quite a lot of Gold Wings on the back roads, even a couple traversing the somewhat treacherous Apache Trail (188) -- 22 miles of steep washboard gravel road.

Apparently Arizona doesn't require riders to wear helmets. The first indication I had of this legal status was a guy on a black cruiser, running his fingers through his movie star hair at a stop light -- with a full-face helmet bungied to his pillion seat. I just shook my head in wonder. After experiencing the crazy cagers on Phoenix freeways my opinion of helmet-less riders migrated to "those people are 100% insane". Phoenix drivers are fast and seemingly incapable of staying in their own lane.

The weather there is great in the off season, of course, and there are numerous excellent riding roads outside the Phoenix metro area. I wouldn't want to be on two wheels during the summer, though. I'd rather ride in 40 degree rain than 100+ heat, dry or not.

Besides lots of cruisers and Gold Wings, and two sport bikes, I never saw a single V-Strom. Needless to say, I could hardly wait to get home and ride. I was on two wheels the very next morning after my return, headed to work.