Sat. May 30 - 2:53 PM - Klamath Falls, OR - Maverick Motel
It's warm and muggy here in Klamath Falls. But, let's start at the beginning...
6:24 AM - My cat thought it was a work day and meowed a lot, wondering why I wasn't awake yet. I went downstairs and got a pot of coffee brewing, then turned on the news to catch the weather forecast. Within minutes I could feel an occular migraine coming on so I took my meds, poured a cup of coffee, and watched some TV.
After a small breakfast, my headache had diminished. I showered and began loading my luggage onto the bike. I rolled out at 8:25 AM under sunny skies and 64 degrees, heading east on Hwy 26.
The pass at Government Camp wasn't very chilly and by the time I crossed into the Warm Springs Indian Reservation I had to pull over and get into my warm-weather gear (jeans and no jacket liner). The high desert north of Madras smelled like onions, wet juniper and sage, from thunder showers the night before. Traffic was light and I followed two other motorcycles all the way into Bend. On the south side of town I pulled off the bypass and stopped at Shari's for a late breakfast. After getting some bisquits and gravy, I crossed the street to the Chevron and fueled up. I was back on the road a few minutes past noon.
Anyone that has traveled on Hwy 97 south of Bend knows how long, straight and boring it is. Thankfully I had earphones with some good tunes playing on my iPod. I also broke up the monotony by weaving side to side in my lane. Corny but it helps. Large clouds were forming in the skies to the south and west, and I had a dozen fat rain drops on my windshield just north of Chemult. I was expecting to have to pull over and suit back up for rain but the offending clouds veered to the west and left me alone.
The temperature was getting warmer so I pulled into the Collier State logging museum and took off the bandana under my helmet. This allows more air to flow onto my head through my helmet vents. Klamath Lake was fragrant and calm and traffic around its eastern shore was incidental. On the north side of town I pulled into a Chevron to top off my tank in preparation for tomorrow's ride but there was a long line of cars and only two pumps working. I got back onto the highway and headed on to my motel.
The Maverick Motel is on Main Street in old town Klamath Falls. It also shares the parking lot with a brew-pub, so you can guess where I'll be having dinner tonight. My room is tiny, maybe 10' x 11', and upstairs -- I requested a ground floor room -- but it's clean. There is no wi-fi Internet access, howevever, so I'll have to post this at my next stop.
6:02 PM
Dinner was at the Klamath Basin Brewery next door. Taco salad and a fairly decent IPA. After the IPA, however, I could barely taste their '8-second' lager; it was like water. IPA's do that to your taste buds.
The service was good as was the conversation with the two owners, one of whom just got his motorcycle endorsement last August via the Team Oregon MSF course. He rides a Kawasaki Ninja 250. Based on his short stature, his bike choice was excellent. They mentioned they have free wi-fi so I'm going to let my dinner settle then go back over for another pint and take PeeWee (my Asus eeePC netbook) to post today's entries to my blog.
There are ominous thunder clouds to the west, the direction I'm headed tomorrow. Other than a few miles of I-5 from Ashland to Grants Pass, it should be a day of nothing but twisty back roads, some barely as wide as a car: destination, Yreka, California.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Dinner ride to Tippy Canoe
My wife and I rode to the recently renovated (new owner) Tippy Canoe bar and grill on the Old Columbia River Highway, along the banks of the Sandy River near Troutdale. It has a new owner and received a very expensive renovation so we decided to give it a try.
We got there at 6pm on a Sunday evening and less than 20% of the tables were occupied. That was our first clue that something was not quite right. When we got our menus we understood why right away. The prices were outrageous! Most entrees were $25 or more, even the salads were close to $20 each. We immediately asked to see a lunch menu. I ordered a grilled chicken salad, which should have cost $9, but instead was charged $17. The salad itself was unremarkable. My wife ordered a crab salad and it too was nothing to write home about.
For two salads, an iced tea, and a slice of carrot cake for dessert, we were charged $54.
The ride there and back was fantastic, but the Tippy Canoe Bar and Grill will not get any more of our business, that's for sure.
We got there at 6pm on a Sunday evening and less than 20% of the tables were occupied. That was our first clue that something was not quite right. When we got our menus we understood why right away. The prices were outrageous! Most entrees were $25 or more, even the salads were close to $20 each. We immediately asked to see a lunch menu. I ordered a grilled chicken salad, which should have cost $9, but instead was charged $17. The salad itself was unremarkable. My wife ordered a crab salad and it too was nothing to write home about.
For two salads, an iced tea, and a slice of carrot cake for dessert, we were charged $54.
The ride there and back was fantastic, but the Tippy Canoe Bar and Grill will not get any more of our business, that's for sure.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Review: Draggin Jeans from Fast Company
I recently purchased a pair of Draggin Jeans from Fast Company. The style I purchased are called 'utility' jeans, which are basically cargo pants with a relaxed fit. I paid $120 after shipping and received them about 10 days after I placed my order.
[caption id="attachment_363" align="alignright" width="139" caption="Utility Draggin Jeans"]
[/caption]These denim jeans are lined with Kevlar for abbrasion resistance in a crash. Armor is optional. I opted for the unarmored version.
My first impression was that they are longer than I anticipated. I normally wear 32 waist and 34 inseam in Levis and these seemed like they are at least 2" longer than that. When standing in my bare feet they are too long. But when wearing boots they stack nicely and the extra length makes a lot of sense when sitting on the bike.
They are also heavier than normal jeans of the same size. The denim is fairly thick and the Kevlar adds weight, presumably. They are very comfortable, however, and feel as if they've already been washed 20 times. Speaking of washing, they can be washed and dried just like regular jeans -- just make sure bleach, color-safe or otherwise, never touches them; it destroys the Kevlar.
I'm learning that 70 degrees is my cut-off point when I want to get out of my armored Fieldsheer Mercury riding pants and into something cooler. That's where the Draggin Jeans come in. I've ridden 200 miles in them so far and they have proven to be very comfortable and much cooler than the Mercury pants I normally wear. That was the whole point.
I'll probably buy another pair but will get the relaxed style rather than the cargo-pant version. These pants are not cheap but they are worth the price. The next pair I get will have armor, just because that's the kind of guy I am. Safe.
[caption id="attachment_363" align="alignright" width="139" caption="Utility Draggin Jeans"]
[/caption]These denim jeans are lined with Kevlar for abbrasion resistance in a crash. Armor is optional. I opted for the unarmored version.My first impression was that they are longer than I anticipated. I normally wear 32 waist and 34 inseam in Levis and these seemed like they are at least 2" longer than that. When standing in my bare feet they are too long. But when wearing boots they stack nicely and the extra length makes a lot of sense when sitting on the bike.
They are also heavier than normal jeans of the same size. The denim is fairly thick and the Kevlar adds weight, presumably. They are very comfortable, however, and feel as if they've already been washed 20 times. Speaking of washing, they can be washed and dried just like regular jeans -- just make sure bleach, color-safe or otherwise, never touches them; it destroys the Kevlar.
I'm learning that 70 degrees is my cut-off point when I want to get out of my armored Fieldsheer Mercury riding pants and into something cooler. That's where the Draggin Jeans come in. I've ridden 200 miles in them so far and they have proven to be very comfortable and much cooler than the Mercury pants I normally wear. That was the whole point.
I'll probably buy another pair but will get the relaxed style rather than the cargo-pant version. These pants are not cheap but they are worth the price. The next pair I get will have armor, just because that's the kind of guy I am. Safe.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Larch Mountain and Columbia Overlook
Sunday was a fantastic Spring riding day. It was a pleasant temperature, without being too hot or too cool, and there was a slight hazy overcast to the sky that kept it from being too bright. I have several riding options near my home that offer a great bang-for-the-mile value -- lots of scenery, very few stop signs or stop lights, and close enough I don't have to ride an hour just to get to the fun stuff.
I descended down Ten Eyke Road into the Bull Run valley below Sandy and wound my way through Aimes, down Gordon Creek Road, and up Evans into Corbett. I turned east and headed up Larch Mountain Road behind a series of slow cars. Everyone and their brother was out sight-seeing. I had to pass several cars, some of which were courteous enough to pull over and let me by.
The road to Larch Mountain has several stretches through timber that remind me of photographs and video I've seen of the Black Forest in Germany. Tangentially I've heard some speculate that the road up the Clackamas River from Estacada to Ripplebrook is equal to Lolo Pass in Idaho. The parallels of scenery between area routes and those found in more exotic and well-known locations are intriguing.
For whatever reason, perhaps state budget cuts, the gate to Larch Mountain was still shut due to snow -- what snow? -- so I had to turn around and head back down. There was easily a dozen cars parked at the gate, presumably hiking nearby trails.
[caption id="attachment_354" align="alignright" width="380" caption="Crown Point overlook"]
[/caption]
I stopped at the Portland Woman's Forum overlook, which gives a great view of the Crown Point Overlook just upstream. I dismounted, drank some water, took some photos, gave another motorcyclist directions, then headed back the way I came.
[caption id="attachment_355" align="alignleft" width="320" caption="Blind motorcyclist"]
[/caption]
I took a photo of myself before departing, then realized afterward that I look like a blind man with my dark sunglasses.
I descended down Ten Eyke Road into the Bull Run valley below Sandy and wound my way through Aimes, down Gordon Creek Road, and up Evans into Corbett. I turned east and headed up Larch Mountain Road behind a series of slow cars. Everyone and their brother was out sight-seeing. I had to pass several cars, some of which were courteous enough to pull over and let me by.
The road to Larch Mountain has several stretches through timber that remind me of photographs and video I've seen of the Black Forest in Germany. Tangentially I've heard some speculate that the road up the Clackamas River from Estacada to Ripplebrook is equal to Lolo Pass in Idaho. The parallels of scenery between area routes and those found in more exotic and well-known locations are intriguing.
For whatever reason, perhaps state budget cuts, the gate to Larch Mountain was still shut due to snow -- what snow? -- so I had to turn around and head back down. There was easily a dozen cars parked at the gate, presumably hiking nearby trails.
[caption id="attachment_354" align="alignright" width="380" caption="Crown Point overlook"]
[/caption]I stopped at the Portland Woman's Forum overlook, which gives a great view of the Crown Point Overlook just upstream. I dismounted, drank some water, took some photos, gave another motorcyclist directions, then headed back the way I came.
[caption id="attachment_355" align="alignleft" width="320" caption="Blind motorcyclist"]
[/caption]I took a photo of myself before departing, then realized afterward that I look like a blind man with my dark sunglasses.
Friday, May 8, 2009
V-Strom reliability
I purchased my Suzuki V-Strom in February, 2007 new from a local dealer (Action Motorsports in Fairview, Oregon). It currently has nearly 22,000 miles. I have changed the oil every 3,000 miles and had the throttle bodies synced twice, although both times the service guy said it wasn't needed. I'm on my second chain and third set of tires (Metzler Tourance).
Other than the regular maintenance mentioned above the bike has been rock solid without a single problem or even the slightest annoyance. The fuel consumption has seen a low of 49 mpg and a high of 54, with a solid 53 mpg average. I use regular unleaded, 87 octane. The oil I use is Castrol Actevo 10-40w, non-synthetic. It's still running with the original air filter.
This bike has been a fantastic performer and has been 100% reliable, doing everything I've asked of it and ready for more.
Other than the regular maintenance mentioned above the bike has been rock solid without a single problem or even the slightest annoyance. The fuel consumption has seen a low of 49 mpg and a high of 54, with a solid 53 mpg average. I use regular unleaded, 87 octane. The oil I use is Castrol Actevo 10-40w, non-synthetic. It's still running with the original air filter.
This bike has been a fantastic performer and has been 100% reliable, doing everything I've asked of it and ready for more.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The Gorge and Mt. Hood
It turned out to be a loop day. My ride began heading west through town and onto I-84, then over the Columbia River via the I-205 bridge. There were a lot of people out and about. Once in Washington, I headed east on SR-14 and followed the Columbia upstream. Unfortunately it must have been a rally day for the Anti-Destination League as driving 10 mph under the limit seemed to be the goal of every cager.
There were large numbers of motorcyclists on the road as well, and I saw several V-Stroms mixed in with a couple BMW's and more cruisers than I could count. Passing opportunities were few and far between. I pulled into the Chevron at North Bonneville, fueled up the bike and myself as well with a breakfast burrito and a frappucino.
There was no wind in the Gorge, a rare thing indeed. Several various county law enforcement officers were seen heading in the opposite direction, but I never had a chance to go more than 5 mph over the limit (I seldom go more than 10 over) so speeding tickets were definitely not an issue. I crossed back over the Columbia via the toll bridge at Hood River with climbing temperatures and headed south on highway 35.
The highway around the back side of Mt. Hood had significantly less traffic and I only had to pass two slow cagers.
The cool temps past Mt. Hood Meadows felt refreshing and the massive piles of snow on the road side demonstrates just how much snow the Oregon Cascades can receive each winter.
I stopped briefly at Government Camp to drink some water and wave at a toddler in the rest area showing obvious fascination by the two-wheeled astronaut stopped nearby. For the first time in a long time I was able to ride unhindered down the road from Government Camp all the way to Rhododendron, without any trains of slow cars to follow.
By the time I got home the temperature was already in the mid 70's. The total loop covered 160 miles and took close to four hours.
There were large numbers of motorcyclists on the road as well, and I saw several V-Stroms mixed in with a couple BMW's and more cruisers than I could count. Passing opportunities were few and far between. I pulled into the Chevron at North Bonneville, fueled up the bike and myself as well with a breakfast burrito and a frappucino.There was no wind in the Gorge, a rare thing indeed. Several various county law enforcement officers were seen heading in the opposite direction, but I never had a chance to go more than 5 mph over the limit (I seldom go more than 10 over) so speeding tickets were definitely not an issue. I crossed back over the Columbia via the toll bridge at Hood River with climbing temperatures and headed south on highway 35.
The highway around the back side of Mt. Hood had significantly less traffic and I only had to pass two slow cagers.
The cool temps past Mt. Hood Meadows felt refreshing and the massive piles of snow on the road side demonstrates just how much snow the Oregon Cascades can receive each winter.I stopped briefly at Government Camp to drink some water and wave at a toddler in the rest area showing obvious fascination by the two-wheeled astronaut stopped nearby. For the first time in a long time I was able to ride unhindered down the road from Government Camp all the way to Rhododendron, without any trains of slow cars to follow.
By the time I got home the temperature was already in the mid 70's. The total loop covered 160 miles and took close to four hours.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Before, during, or after?
It's a difficult proposition deciding what's more enjoyable: the planning, the ride, or it's memory?
Unlike those in more northern latitudes, I ride all year. Granted, I'm on two wheels less often when there's 23" inches of snow on the ground, but I do what I can. The longest stretch I've gone without riding was three weeks and a record-breaking snowstorm was the cause. When I'm not riding I'm thinking about it.
I spend a great deal of time in Google Maps (http://maps.google.com/) playing what-if with possible routes and destinations. It's even useful for finding accommodations and places to eat, sites to see. I've often said that I'm very spontaneous as long as I know all the plans ahead of time, and online tools like Google allow me to plan my trips, both real and imaginary, many times over well in advance of departure.
Sometimes I think my over-planning can lead to somewhat anti-climactic results when it comes time to actually hit the road. Perhaps my coldly charted arrival times and reservations have been handled so deftly that it leads to a noticeable lack of adventure. However, another philosophy might best be summed up by quoting something I told my employer the day after I got hired, "If you find yourself wondering what I do all day, why I'm so quiet, that's confirmation I'm doing my job correctly." (I work in IT and I was referring to a lack of system crashes and fire to be extinguished.)
But I think the planning and preparation of a trip is a great deal of the fun.
During rides it's comforting to know I have a place to stay when I reach each day's destination. It's not uncommon for me to have my dining options already scoped out, although I've yet to make reservations in advance. Perhaps part of the reason is because 71% of the time I'm dining on a weeknight and tend to avoid larger urban areas.
The rides themselves are gratifying for their own set of reasons. Despite my propensity to plan, I've yet to obtain the ability to control the weather, although I was friends with a guy in college that could (true story). God created the scenery, all I do is pick the route. Sometimes I'm tired, most of the time I'm exhilarated. On occasion I'll listen to music while I ride but seldom for more than an hour or so before switching to the inner solitude afforded me by old fashioned foam earplugs. Call me anti-social, but I've learned that the three of us -- me, myself, and I -- get along swimmingly, and my own thoughts have proven more than adequate as companionship for the road.
When I get to the day's destination a different rhythm sets in. Check in at the motel's front desk, weary and thankful for another safe ride. Find my room and unload the bike. Lay down on the bed and basically pass out for about an hour. Shower, then head to whatever restaurant is on my dinner list for the evening. I usually pick a restaurant within walking distance. Depending on the city and the dining destination I may take a local cab, but I never ride my bike to dinner. I often enjoy a cocktail of some kind with my evening meal and never drink and ride. That is one zero-tolerance policy I adhere to on a strict basis.
The rest of the evening is spent watching the Weather Channel and whatever movie might be on. I also spend some time writing in my journal, describing the day's events.
It's difficult to describe which phase of a trip is the most enjoyable. Ask a parent to pick a favorite child to get a sense for what I'm talking about. Each is different yet equally enjoyable. Perhaps that's why it doesn't get old. I can take a 10 day trip covering 2,400 miles, get home and want to head right back out the very next day.
Call me anti-social but there's something magical about spending that time alone on two wheels.
Unlike those in more northern latitudes, I ride all year. Granted, I'm on two wheels less often when there's 23" inches of snow on the ground, but I do what I can. The longest stretch I've gone without riding was three weeks and a record-breaking snowstorm was the cause. When I'm not riding I'm thinking about it.
I spend a great deal of time in Google Maps (http://maps.google.com/) playing what-if with possible routes and destinations. It's even useful for finding accommodations and places to eat, sites to see. I've often said that I'm very spontaneous as long as I know all the plans ahead of time, and online tools like Google allow me to plan my trips, both real and imaginary, many times over well in advance of departure.
Sometimes I think my over-planning can lead to somewhat anti-climactic results when it comes time to actually hit the road. Perhaps my coldly charted arrival times and reservations have been handled so deftly that it leads to a noticeable lack of adventure. However, another philosophy might best be summed up by quoting something I told my employer the day after I got hired, "If you find yourself wondering what I do all day, why I'm so quiet, that's confirmation I'm doing my job correctly." (I work in IT and I was referring to a lack of system crashes and fire to be extinguished.)
But I think the planning and preparation of a trip is a great deal of the fun.
During rides it's comforting to know I have a place to stay when I reach each day's destination. It's not uncommon for me to have my dining options already scoped out, although I've yet to make reservations in advance. Perhaps part of the reason is because 71% of the time I'm dining on a weeknight and tend to avoid larger urban areas.
The rides themselves are gratifying for their own set of reasons. Despite my propensity to plan, I've yet to obtain the ability to control the weather, although I was friends with a guy in college that could (true story). God created the scenery, all I do is pick the route. Sometimes I'm tired, most of the time I'm exhilarated. On occasion I'll listen to music while I ride but seldom for more than an hour or so before switching to the inner solitude afforded me by old fashioned foam earplugs. Call me anti-social, but I've learned that the three of us -- me, myself, and I -- get along swimmingly, and my own thoughts have proven more than adequate as companionship for the road.
When I get to the day's destination a different rhythm sets in. Check in at the motel's front desk, weary and thankful for another safe ride. Find my room and unload the bike. Lay down on the bed and basically pass out for about an hour. Shower, then head to whatever restaurant is on my dinner list for the evening. I usually pick a restaurant within walking distance. Depending on the city and the dining destination I may take a local cab, but I never ride my bike to dinner. I often enjoy a cocktail of some kind with my evening meal and never drink and ride. That is one zero-tolerance policy I adhere to on a strict basis.
The rest of the evening is spent watching the Weather Channel and whatever movie might be on. I also spend some time writing in my journal, describing the day's events.
It's difficult to describe which phase of a trip is the most enjoyable. Ask a parent to pick a favorite child to get a sense for what I'm talking about. Each is different yet equally enjoyable. Perhaps that's why it doesn't get old. I can take a 10 day trip covering 2,400 miles, get home and want to head right back out the very next day.
Call me anti-social but there's something magical about spending that time alone on two wheels.
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