The words of Anacortes Police Captain John Small in describing Sunday’s 27th Annual Oyster Run. Picture perfect weather no doubt contributed to the tremendous turnout.

My own Oyster Run experience began with breakfast at the Hometown Cafe in Sedro-Woolley. There I joined members of Star Touring & Riding Chapters 154 (Burlington) and 5103 (B.C., Canada). Combined the group numbered around 50 riders and over 40 bikes. We filled the upstairs dining room.

Full credit to the staff at the Hometown as our meals were delivered promptly and correctly. The only hiccup was checkout as the the credit card machine had some intermittent trouble that delayed the proceedings.

Filled with good food, we mounted up and divided into two groups. A round-about route to Anacortes via Edison had us joining a thickening stream of bikes headed West on Highway 20. We made the turn onto Commercial Street around 11:30. The streets North of 12th were already full of parked bikes. We threaded our way through all the way down to 2nd street where we were directed to park on one of the blocked off side streets.

After securing gear we set off in smaller groups to see the sights. We arrived a couple of blocks away just in time to see the Seattle Cossack perform their first of two demonstration shows. Every time I see these guys I am impressed. There is some serious bike-handling skill in this group.

After the show we set off in search of ride pins and t-shirts for other members of our small group. The crowded sidewalks made staying together challenging and it was not long before my son and I were separated from the rest of the group and on our own.

We walked both sides of Commercial checking out bikes and vendors. We were hoping to find some gloves for my son, but being a more sport-bike leaning youngster, we did not find the carbon-fiber-knuckled gloves that he was seeking in the seas of black leather cruiser accessories.

I did notice a large number of Christian riding groups with booths in the vendor areas. I’m not sure why there were so many, but they seemed to be at every turn. Also with a larger presence than I recall seeing were members of the Bandidos. The club had a booth and one end of one of the side streets setup as their base camp for the event. There were no problems that I observed; there just seemed to be many more out in their colors than I recall seeing in prior years.

I have learned from experience to try to get out of town by 3:00 or be stuck in a stop-and-go crawl. So we headed back to the bike around 2:30 to saddle up and move out. Bikes entering town still outnumbered those exiting and there was a great deal of congestion getting out of the parking area. I accidentally grazed another rider’s leather saddlebag with my highway peg when I was pinched by another rider who wasn’t looking. The peg folded right up and there was no harm done.

Finally reaching the highway I found myself being followed closely, too closely, by a VW minivan. I waved the driver to back off. No change in following distance. I waved again. Still no change. Finally finding room in the right lane I moved over to let the van pass and gave the universal WTF signal. The passenger in the van returned the gesture along with a dirty look. As the van passed I saw a sticker in the window: Share the road, with BICYCLES! Ah, the irony.

On the whole it was a good day. There were a few accidents and one fatality on local roads. I’m sure the business owners in Anacortes had a big day. My wife had the digital camera in Florida so did not get any pictures. Fortunately one of the Star riders posted his photos and Jeff over at the Hog Blog has some great photos and video of the event.

Crater Lake has been on my “to ride” list for quite some time. I have been waiting for a good 4-day span of weather to make the ride. Earlier this week things looked good. Of course we are talking weather and that is something no one has any control over. That said, the weather took a bit of a change and the night before we were expecting rain. We got that rain! In the morning Mr. Weatherman assured the public that the weather was in fact moving North. There would be intermittent rain showers South but nothing ugly. We were headed south so this was all in our favor.

August 1st, 9 AM. I was loading the remainder of my gear. I had most of it packed and ready to go the night before. Once Lloyd arrived we were off, heading up I-5 and then to Highway 512 to Steel Street. This is a back way to avoid all the lights on Pacific Avenue. Our first stroke of luck came in the form of a road closure that put us on to Pacific Highway. We slowly made our way to the Roy “Y” and continued left on the mountain highway. About this time we were given a nice rain shower. In fact I think the same cloud followed us all the way through La Grande, Alder and into Elbe.

We stopped at Scaleburger for lunch as the sun was trying to cut through the clouds. After a burger and a Chocolate Malt shake, we departed Elbe and rode towards Morton. As we made our way up highway 7 through Coal Canyon our friend the rain paid us yet another visit. This time the rain stuck with us through Morton, Randle and NF-25.

NF-25 is 37 miles of twists and turns that will definitely put a smile on any rider’s face. Unfortunately for us it was raining. The early sections of NF-25 were in pretty bad shape. There were a lot of deep dips and potholes. The road crew did patch some sections and improve them but it seems it just gets worse every year.

As we neared the Windy Ridge turn it was clearly posted that NF-99 up to Windy Ridge was still closed. Rumor has it the forestry service didn’t have funding to do an early plow and waited for the snow to melt. Once they got up there they found many sections of road are washed out. As of yet there is no date published for an opening. We followed NF-25 all the way to the NF-90 junction. The rain stayed with us the entire time. We have great rain gear so we didn’t get wet or cold.

We followed NF-90 enjoying some nice turns in the rain. There was a two-block section of road that had an oily residue that caused our tires to push out a bit. NF-90 is a short but sweet 9.2 miles of paved forest road with ample twists and turns. This section of road is amazing when dry. We rode NF-90 to Wind River Road. Wind River Road stretches for 27.3 miles and intersects with Highway 14. Approximately 1.5 miles down Wind River Road and we were treated to 5.7 miles of fun twisties. After that there were sweeping turns and relaxing straights until we ended up on US 14 Westbound. We followed this until the bridge crossing (50-cent toll) that would put us on the Oregon side of the Columbia River.

We rode I-84 Westbound for 19.2 miles and all of it in the sun. Yes! The sun! But it didn’t last long. When we turned off on to the Mt. Hood Highway (US 35) we were staring into some angry clouds. As we neared Mt. Hood it was as plain as the clouds that hung over the mountain that we were not going to enjoy a spectacular view, or any view for that matter, of Mt. Hood. We just blazed on by riding 39 miles on Highway 35, still enjoying the rainfall that has stuck with us like a bad cold.

None of the rain bothered me one bit as I knew we were in for a treat when we got to Crater Lake. Cresting the pass brought not only more rain but colder temperatures. I was glad when we started down the other side. The further south on US 35 the better the weather got. We were due for some sun and we got it. It went from one extreme to the other.

We soon turned on to US 26 as we ventured out into Oregon’s desert. 13 miles down US-26 we entered the Warm Springs Indian Reservation.  We came across a bunch of fire fighters battling a grass fire just off the highway. The fire was mostly contained but they had a ways to go.

As we were making our way down US 26 we came across a bridge that spanned a large canyon. We pulled over to take some photos. The view was great. The canyon was very deep and looked like a mini version of the Grand Canyon. I was impressed and started to take a liking to the terrain.

The temperatures felt like the low 80’s as we pushed on. US 26 finally brought us 39 miles across the Warm Springs Indian Reservation and to a couple of campgrounds in Deschutes Canyon. This is where we planned to try to find a camp site for the night. This was a last minute, no reservations, sleep where you can ride. I was really hoping we would get lucky and find some place to rest for the night that wasn’t roadside.

The first camp ground (Pelton Park) was full. We proceeded up the canyon road past Pelton Dam to Lake Simtustus. There was a small camp ground called Canyon Camp. As luck would have it, they had two sites left. We took the larger of the two for $25 a night.

The lake was gorgeous as was the road that twisted its way along the east canyon walls. It wasn’t the greatest camp site and the ground was not level but we had a private deck that was hanging off the side of a storage shed. We pitched our tents and set up camp. There were showers available in a single wide that was converted into a shower/restroom.

Once we had camp set up we headed back to the reservation to the only diner for miles. It was a rustic place called the Deschutes Crossing Diner. We ordered country fried steak and waited 15 minutes only to be handed menus once again. They were out of steaks! I settled for a sandwich and a cup of chowder. The chowder and sandwich were great but it took forever to get our food and our check.

Once back at the campsite the sky slowly turned dark as the sun went down behind the canyon walls. I was amazed at how the stars lit up the sky. We don’t get that in the city due to all the mercury vapor lights that wash out the sky at night. We just sat around talking and watching the sky. I was lucky and got a glimpse of a shooting star. It was short lived; maybe 2 seconds. We soon turned in.

The ground was not comfortable at all but it was a small price to pay for this kind of experience. I lay in my tent with the front open watching the sky and  wishing the ground was a little softer. I was soon treated to a glimpse of a second shooting star. It was soon after that I faded off to sleep.

Day 2

Our first night camping under the stars was a great experience. I woke around 6:30 AM, just in time to see the sun rising. The lake looked like a sheet of mirrored glass reflecting the image of the canyon walls. I took a few minutes to just look at the beautiful surroundings then decided to break down my tent. While I was doing so, Lloyd opted for a shower up at the double wide. My tent broke down fairly quickly and in no time I had it and my sleeping gear strapped to the rear seat of my Goldwing. As Lloyd returned from his shower I found my way up the path to the double wide for a shower and shave. The showers were free and clean; something you rarely find in a campground. I have to say I was pretty impressed with this little campground.

Once showered, I headed back to camp in time to watch Lloyd secure his camp gear to his bike. We were now ready to hit the road and find some breakfast.

We took a few minutes to gaze out at the canyon and lake. The sun was higher in the sky and the canyon walls were now lit up by the sun light. We warmed up the ‘Wings then made our way out of the canyon to US-26. The ride out was gorgeous as the images of canyon walls and trees reflected in the mirror like surface of Lake Simtustus.

Once on US-26, we rode 11.7 miles into the sun and on to US-97. We were now entering the town of Madras in search of breakfast. We approached a diner named The Black Bear Diner. We pulled into the lot and parked our Goldwings. The diner had customers and appeared to be very clean. Once we entered we were quickly greeted and seated. This time I got my country fried steak and eggs! The food was awesome and the orange juice was the best I have had. The prices were fair as my steak and eggs, orange juice and coffee came to a little over $11.00.

After a great meal we were heading west on US-97. 24 miles of almost straight-as-an-arrow US-97 brought us to Redmond, Oregon. This was followed by an even straighter 12 miles to Bend, OR. I was wishing that US-97 would throw us a curve or some sweepers but it just went on for another 15 miles until we came across the Newberry Volcanic Monument.

This was not on my Garmin Maps. I have placed a way point in the map file for this ride so those of you who use a Garmin will be able to find it with ease. The fee to enter the park was $2.50 per rider. We made our way up a red dirt road to the volcano’s summit. The summit (Lava Butte) is 5,020 feet above sea level and 3,600 feet above the desert floor. The last eruption was over 13,000 years ago. Every where we looked we saw lava rock and pumice. There are small trees sparsely placed growing in the crater. There wasn’t a whole lot of vegetation in the crater with the exception of the trees and some weeds. There is a small building on the rim of the crater with information. Looking north we could see the Sisters Peaks. If you wish to see the lava tube you will have to walk a trail a ways. Someone there mentioned it was the longest lava tube in the US. If you do decide to visit the tube dress warm and bring a lantern not a flash light. The lava tube is about 45 degrees and pitch black dark!. We made our way down to ground level and over to the visitor center where we looked at some of the displays and artifacts. All in all this was a great break from the very straight US-97.

Speaking of which, we were back on US-97 heading West 19 miles into La Pine. La Pine is a very small town and a place to fuel up. We decided to push on and fuel up down the road. Crescent was the next town just 17.8 miles up US-97. About 10 miles from Crescent my fuel injection light came on. Oh God! What now! The bike didn’t seem to sputter and was running smooth as glass. I kept my eye on the temp as well and all looked great.

Once in Crescent I fueled up and the darn fuel injection light went off. I called Henshaws and they recommended I take it to an authorized dealer and have it put on the computer diagnostic equipment.  That was great, but I was in the middle of nowhere. My AT&T 8525 PDA phone was getting a data signal so I used Microsoft’s “Live Search” to locate some nearby motorcycle shops. After a couple calls it was clear as day that there wasn’t one within a reasonable distance. Hey it was running fine and the light was off so I went for it!

There is not much about US-97 I can tell you other then it’s lacking in turns and it runs through the desert. We followed it another 18.7 miles to the town of Chemult. Listen closely… There is a Texaco station in this town. Fuel up there. The pumps are closed at the Mazama Camp & RV Park. Those of you who have smaller tanks and plan to ride to Crater Lake and around the crater will not have enough fuel to make it to the next station. I know of 4 Harley riders who were stuck at our campground who will back this up. If you’re planning on leaving the park and heading up Highway 138 the next fuel station is in Dixonville, 82 miles from the park entrance.

Another 9.8 miles up the road was Highway 138, also known as Diamond Lake Junction. Wouldn’t you know it? Another perfectly straight stretch of highway that took us 14.7 miles to Highway 232. This was the road that enters Crater Lake National Forest. We rode about 5 miles and came across what is known as the “Pumice Desert”.

The ground was extremely flat with very little vegetation. The wind was ripping through this area with gusts of about 25 miles per hour. We took a few photos and then rode another 4 miles to where we came across our first view point. There was a pumice covered hill we walked up and  as we crested the hill we saw the most spectacular view! The crater was incredible. The water was a very deep blue. In the crater near the west side is a small island named “Wizard Island”. Patches of snow still lay on the ground as the elevation provides for cooler temperatures. It was cooler and a bit windy but I was loving every minute of it.

We made our way back to the bikes and 8.7 up Rim Rd where we turned off on to Munsen Valley Rd. From here we followed campground signs for approximately 4 miles to where we came across the Mazama Camp & RV park. We pulled into the parking lot and dismounted the ‘Wings.

As we were taking a breather, I was approached by another biker who was with about 5 others. It turns out I had met him out on the road a year prior and he visits my site from time to time. I first met him when I was riding Hood Canal. We stopped at a park (Potlatch) on the canal and ended up chatting with a large group of riders. One of whom was Douglas; the very same guy with whom I was now shaking hands. They were not camping but passing through and visiting the crater. While I was visiting Lloyd scored us a camp site. The lady was fond of riders and gave us a RV site for $20.00. We said our goodbyes to Douglas and friends and headed for our campsite.

As we rode through the campgrounds we noticed the signs warning of bears in the campground. Once we located our site we set up camp. It didn’t take us long before we had both tents pitched and camp was set up. Nothing to do now but sightsee and find dinner.

We made our way back out of the campground and back to Rim Rd. We headed east on Rim Rd and started to make our way around the crater. It’s about 32 miles around and we were treated to a couple of waterfalls and countless scenic viewpoints that provided different views of the lake. The deep blue color of the lake still amazes me. After many stops and photos we had made our way around the crater.

We returned to the campground and stopped at the restaurant in the very same parking lot. Tonight it was pepperoni and sausage pizza. The prices were a bit spendy: for 1 large cheese pizza it was $16.00

After dinner we sat around the camp site and discussed the day’s events and whatever else spilled out of our heads. We were surrounded by trees and the crickets were pumping up the volume. Once again we were treated to a fascinating starlit sky that produced yet another shooting star. The temperature was dropping and due to the elevation we knew it would be chilly this night. It was nearing sleep time so we put all our food in the steel lock box. This is so bears can’t get the food. I was thinking, yes but they can get to us. I wandered to my tent with that thought in mind knowing the chances of that happening were slim. It obviously didn’t bother me because I didn’t lose any sleep over it.

Day 3

After a long chilly night I was glad to wake up to the sun cutting through the trees. All I could think about was “hot shower”. I gathered my toiletries and headed for the public shower. As luck would have it there was no line. This seemed too good to be true. 7 AM and no line at all. I was feeling pretty good until the meter accepted my 3 quarters and didn’t turn on the water. It also failed to give the quarters back when I pressed the coin return. I hate it when that happens!

Once back at camp Lloyd had just crawled out of his tent. He got a good laugh when I told him about the shower fiasco. He couldn’t get it to work the night before.  We decided to just break camp and get on with it. Another quick tear down of camp and we were ready to hit the road.

We made our way past Crater Lake while enjoying several spectacular views as we rode by. We each had a half tank of gas and there were about 90 miles between us and the next fuel station according to my Garmin. We made our way down Highway 232 crossing the Pumice Desert. The view was breathtaking to say the least. Highway 138 was nothing short of amazing as it fed us twists, turns and high speed sweeping turns. We made several stops for pictures.

We rode through some great countryside paralleling the Umpqua River the entire 80 miles to Dixonville. Here we finally came upon an older fuel station and store. I wasn’t sure where the next chance for gas
would be so this was it. We fueled up and I bought a Dr. Pepper for the road.

Once on the road it was a brief 6 miles to Roseburg, Oregon and Denny’s for breakfast. It was already getting warm outside and I could tell for those in these parts of Oregon it was going to be a hot day. We on the other hand, were heading to a much cooler coastal area. I had the chicken fried steak again, orange juice and coffee. Hey, it works for me!

Once watered and fed we pulled out of Denny’s and on to the on ramp to I-5. The ride up I-5 was a painless 12 miles to our next turn on to Highway 138. The terrain had gone from desert to green forest and back to dry grass lands and farm fields. Any green in this area was due to irrigation. Highway 138 took us another 24 miles and it was loaded with turns and again we rode parallel to the Umpqua River most of the way. All I kept thinking as I navigated the turns was that it just doesn’t get any better than this.

The road conditions were flawless allowing me to confidently take each corner with speed. I can’t say that about NF-25 in Washington. At the end of the 24 miles of fun we came to the Highway 38 junction. Highway 38 is a 36 mile stretch of road that intersects with US 101 on the Coast. This highway paralleled the Umpqua River as well which made for a nice ride.

As we approached the coast I could feel the wind pick up and become cooler. US 101 took us another 12 miles to the edge of the Oregon Dunes National Forest. There was a banner up in the previous town stating it was Dune Fest. I noticed on the way in there were a lot of trucks and RV’s with ATV’s and dirt bikes in tow. I couldn’t help but wonder how much fun they were having ripping up the dunes.

Soon we rounded a bend a got our first glimpse of the Ocean. This was a great opportunity to pull over and take some pictures. It felt good to get out of the saddle and stretch. Rich’s Seats here I come!

The wind was very strong and gusty. It was also a bit on the chilly side. Being an ex-boater I have a love for the water; especially saltwater.

We continued riding US 101 for another 54 miles enjoying every view of the ocean and beaches. We made several stops for photos. One of which was at a lighthouse.

We stopped in Newport for lunch and as we ate we started re-thinking our game plan. We originally were going to ride all the way up US 101 into Washington but the side winds were very strong and chilly. Instead of proceeding another 50 miles and then rolling the dice on finding lodging, we decided to take Highway 18 to Portland and then iron man it up I-5 to home.  I originally wanted to make this a three day ride anyway. After lunch we did just that.

We rode on to Highway 18 for a warmer 44.7 miles to I-5 where we fueled up. From here it was 11.7 miles and one wrong turn and we were passing through Portland. The remainder of the trip was 149 miles of I-5 and traffic going 75 mph. We made a few stops as my back side was starting to feel the 509 mile day in the saddle. As we neared Olympia the sun was going down. By the time I arrived in Tacoma the sky was a dim shade of pink. I couldn’t wait to get the shower I didn’t get at the campground. Other than that this trip was amazing!

Kai established a non-profit to handle the money, recruited volunteers to help out, gathered prizes from local sponsors, planned the route, coordinated stops at other firehouses and promoted the event within the fire service community. All of Kai’s preparations came together last Saturday morning in the parking lot of Whatcom County Fire District 4, Station 12.

I arrived early to find Kai and his parents setting up registration tables. Coffee, bottled water, doughnuts, granola bars, and bananas were available for riders. I had a chance to talk to Kai briefly and he expressed some nervousness about the day’s event going well; hoping that he had planned well. He need not have worried.

When the group gathered in front of Station 12 for a photo, there were over 40 bikes lined up and the John Nourse Cancer Fund had collected $1000. Most of the riders where active or retired fire service members. Sport bikes, cruisers, dual sports and Gold Wings had all come together for a common cause.

The route took the group to firehouses in Whatcom and Skagit County. At the after party, held at the Ferndale Bob’s Burgers and Brews, I asked Kai how he think it went. He said that he had learned a lot and that there were a few things he will do differently next year. Seeing the results of Kai’s first effort, I have no doubt that next year’s event will be bigger and better.

I left Mount Vernon at 6 am Sunday morning. The trip down was a straightforward blast down I-5. Early Sunday morning traffic was non-existent. The VTX was humming and I quickly fell into “the zone.”

The skies were overcast and the temperatures cool as I sailed through Seattle. Around Olympia the sun finally began to break through. By Centralia the sun was out in full force and I pulled over to switch gloves and lose a layer.

I arrived at my daughter’s campus at 11:00; just in time to have brunch with her in the cafeteria. It’s finals week and the cafeteria staff provided a few “stress distracter” for the students. Finals brunch karaoke and a mountain of ice cream with toppings among them.

Freshly fed we caught a shuttle bus to downtown Portland where we browsed Powell’s and did some window shopping. The sun was shining brightly and it was easily 70 degrees. Then we headed over to Portland Center Stage to see their production of Ken Kesey’s Sometimes A Great Notion. My daughter and I both rank the book among our favorites.

The production was amazing and fully captured the intensity of the book. The show runs through May 10, so there is still time to go see it. It is truly fantastic.

After the show we walked around the corner to get dinner at Thai Peacock (which we ate outdoors) and then back to Pioneer Courthouse Square to wait for the bus back to campus. She had studying to do and I was ready for a nap.

I loaded up the bike around 6 am on Monday morning and quietly motored off campus and back onto I-5. Portland traffic was non-existent at this early hour and I was back in Washington in no time. I stopped in Woodland for breakfast; choosing the restaurant on the basis of Daniel Meyer’s criteria: look for the farmer’s trucks. In this case, they were logger’s trucks but the rule still works. Rosie’s Restaurant offered great coffee and a nice breakfast special of biscuit and gravy, links and hashbrowns.

Since I had all day to get home, I decided on a different route to see some less-familiar roads and scenery. I turned off I-5 at Olympia and onto 101 North. I rode north along the western shores of Hood Canal. Savoring the smell of salt water and soaking up the sunshine.

In Union I made a visit to Gerbing’s and after spending about an hour touring their soon-to-be-former facility, more on that in a future article, I continued my journey North. The weather clouding up and temperatures dropping as I pressed on.

I left Gerbings at 11 and was hopeful of making the 12:45 ferry from Port Townsend. I knew it was going to be tight as it was 75 miles to the ferry terminal and 101 is not the road for making rapid miles. Luck was with me as I made the ferry with literally minutes to spare.

I munched on a PowerBar on the car deck during the crossing. Then it was back to familiar Whidbey Island roads. I stopped briefly at Flyer’s in Oak Harbor for a sandwich and made it home a little after 3 with 520 miles on the clock for two days.

My new highway pegs were a blessing on this trip; allowing me to stretch my legs while riding. (Thanks to Shel at Scooter Stuff for having Kuryakyn stuff in stock!) Also, my recently-modified seat, while not all-day comfortable, made 75-100 mile stints in the saddle do-able. (Mean City Cycles did the modification; the stock seat was killing me after 40-50 miles.) I feel like I finally have a set-up that will make long riding days less taxing.

The 9 of us headed North up Highway 9. We made a brief stop in Arlington to offload some coffee and 8 of us continued North through intermittent rain and drizzle. We reached Scooter Stuff around noon and enjoyed Shel’s usual great hospitality and coffee.

I split from the group when we left Scooter Stuff, heading back home. The group planned to continue on to Boomer’s in Bellingham for burgers followed by a Southbound run down Chuckanut on their way home.

The weather never really got great, but the company was excellent and it was a great ride. While it’s cushier than stock, I am still getting used to the change in riding position with the reworked seat. More on that in another post after I put a few more miles on the seat.

Next month’s SCRC ride will be to the Skagit Valley to tour the tulip fields. I’ve posted all the SCRC rides in the event calendar and if one fits your schedule, I recommend joining in.

Based on the experiences I had the previous weekend, I decided to go back down south and see if I could help out some more. I’m glad I did. While before I had seen the devastation wrought in the town of Adna, this time I saw even worse circumstances. And part of what made them “worse” was their isolation. This farm was miles from town, on a road with maybe half a dozen other farms and while I was there I saw only one other family being helped. Rebuilding your life takes a lot of work, but it goes much faster when there are more hands to share the load. I pleased to say that for another day, my hands could be counted among them.

Read the full story, with photos at DantesDame.com.

Read the rest at DantesDame.com.

Carolyn had left San Francisco with her friend Jenny on Thursday the 30th and made her way north. Meanwhile, I would leave my house on Saturday morning and meet them “in the middle”, the “middle” being La Pine, OR. It was only a 6-hour ride to La Pine from Seattle, including a boring stretch of I-5 between here and the Oregon border. I hit the road at a leisurely hour and wiled away the hours as the pavement zipped under my wheels. I was on the KLR so as to better play in the dirt of Oregon with Carolyn but the bike ran well and I had it efficiently packed with minimal gear.

I crossed the Columbia River and set about finding a motorcycle shop. My bike was running hot and having just replaced the coolant, as gasket and some hoses, I was puzzled as to what the problem could be. After finding Factory Motorsports in Oregon City, OR, I was informed that it was a lack of coolant. Apparently my previous leaks had drained out far more than I had realized. A wonderful guy named Steve came out from behind the service counter, wheeled my bike into the depths of their shop and returned it a few minutes later, completely topped off and ready to roll. At no charge. Needless to say, Steve is now in my good graces and I’ll happily recommend this shop to anyone passing through. Not to mention that they have a really nice selection of gear and sundries. I ended up buying some sunglasses there, as I had my Aria XD helmet which did not come equipped with a nifty drop down sun visor like my Caburg has.

After the bike had been healed I once again headed out, this time in a random search for a Nikwax customer whom I knew lived somewhere in the area. I took a number of back roads and doubled back only once before finding her farm and, luckily, her as well. I introduced myself and ended up spending a bit of time there, meeting her goats, chickens, calf and husband. She and her husband gave me some pointers on good roads to take over to Bend and I bid them adieu.

The route that they suggested was a good one and I found myself rolling south on the Cascade Hwy (213) to Route 22 at Stayton. From there it was an easy trip across the Santiam Pass. It is by no means a technical pass and there was a fair bit of traffic involved but it was by far better than a lot of roads I’ve been on. And as for the traffic, I kept reminding myself that this was a holiday weekend. After passing a few recreational lakes I came upon a sign declaring the possibility of smoke on the road due to a fire at Burnt Butte. This is apparently near Sisters, OR, as that’s when I could first see the huge billowing clouds of smoke rising above the mountains. The devastation was amazing, with over 7,000 acres on fire and charred trunks standing naked in the sunshine. The sun became an otherworldly red as I passed between the smoky skies and it. Unreal lighting made it seem like a fantasy world. But the miles kept passing and so did the destruction. The next thing I knew I was in Bend, a different kind of hell.

It was hot. The sun was out and I was in full gear. The road south to La Pine is completely unremarkable, save for a couple of signs indicating that something interesting was down the side road and completely out of sight. Instead I watched the clock tick by, knowing that I’d be very close to our 6 o’clock meeting time. I always get a sense of satisfaction when I can travel for hundreds of miles and still reach my destination at an appointed time. However this time it did me no good; Carolyn wasn’t there.

Not only was she not there, but she wasn’t even registered at the hotel we were to stay in. And the hotel was full, so it wasn’t like we’d just get a room when she arrived. I was wondering if I had the wrong place, as I figured that with all of the anticipation that had gone into this trip, surely she would have made a reservation!

She hadn’t. She and Jenny pulled into the parking lot 10 minutes later and I informed Carolyn of our predicament. She went inside and came back out shortly with the announcement that all of the hotels in La Pine were full. We’d go to Bend for the night.

I repeated the mundane ride, the indicated features still hidden from sight off the main road. We found a nice motel in Bend and were soon on our way to find dinner at a local Italian restaurant and then returned to our room to get a good night’s sleep.

The next morning we followed Carolyn’s GPS in pointless circles through downtown before giving up on it and finding our own way out of the city. We bombed east on some small back roads until we ran into the junction of 23, the enticingly named “Crooked River Highway”. This road swept northward along the Prineville Reservoir and true to its name, it twisted and turned as it followed the Crooked River. Many miles and smiles later the three of us were spit out into Prineville were we then picked up Hwy 26 running east towards various John Day-named places. The first one was the John Day Fossil Beds and Painted Rocks. We darted up the side road and were greeted with strikingly colored hills and valleys. A quick trip to the first scenic vista point let us take some good pictures before heading back down to the main road – and going further on it, passed the end of the pavement and into the unknown. Our goal was a dot on our maps called “Twickenham”. It looked remote and the name was inviting. What could be in Twickenham? We had to find out.

It was a lovely gravel road that led us over hills, around valleys and along cuts made into the sides of the mountains. The views were great, the weather was great and the company was great. I’d race ahead and then lay in wait to take pictures of Jenny and Carolyn as they zipped by. Then I’d pass Carolyn as she stopped to get her photos and eventually we all met up at a bridge that crossed the John Day River. The road was now paved and Twickenham was just around the corner. Or so I thought. I was surprised when we hit the junction of 23 with no town having been passed through. Apparently Twickenham no longer existed as a town. Either that, or it was the barn that was for sale a couple of miles back. Regardless, it was now time for lunch and we turned our bikes towards Fossil, OR. A quick bite later and we were ready to explore the town. We checked out the museums and a gift shop before deciding to leave the town and continue on our journey north. We were hoping to stay somewhere along the Columbia River, which was still quite a few miles away.

North on 19 and then west on 206 would be the easiest way to get there. There was slight disappointment that no dirt roads were readily available for us to continue on. Fortunately 206 was a great road through the deep valley of the John Day River, surrounded by tawny hills, windmills and volcanic cliffs. I was really wishing for a higher-powered bike at this point but the KLR still managed to pull along fairly well.

It had been a long day and as unofficial leader of the group I decided not to push for Hood River but instead we settled for a motel room in The Dalles. A long walk around town led us to the only likely-looking place for dinner, which was of course on the other side of the motel. Dinner was excellent (and huge!) and we went back to the room to plan out the next day’s attack.

Jenny had to head back to California and Carolyn and I quickly squashed her thoughts of making it to the Oregon coast and into California in one day. Instead, she agreed to ride with us through Rowena (a lovely portion of the original Hwy 30 along the Columbia River), stop for breakfast with us in Hood River and then head south to the border. Carolyn and I would cross the Columbia at Hood River and explore some forest service roads north of Trout Lake.

Breakfast was tasty and we sat by the river, watching boats and swimmers go by (there was some sort of race happening that morning). I was disappointed that our parking job had gone unappreciated: someone had parked their car across two parking spaces in an incredibly crowded lot. I might have given the guy a break if it had been some classic or exotic car, but this was a late-model Chevrolet Cobalt, for Pete’s sake! So we boxed him in with our bikes, hoping that he’d get back to his car before we finished. Alas, it was not to be and we pulled the bikes out of the way before he knew what had happened.

Jenny kept going as Carolyn and I made the perilous crossing on the steel deck, 4,400’ structure, not exactly easy to do with skinny, knobby tires. At least it wasn’t windy at this time of day! The road to Trout Lake was easy and gave us great views of a receding river and the nearing mass of Mt Adams. The snow-covered mountain kept us close company as we passed through Trout Lake and passed the “Road Closed” sign on the forest service road we’d normally take through this section. The gravel road had washed out and the unofficial detour was up a 3 mile stretch of 4×4 dirt roads. I had come this way a week before on the BMW so I knew of the way around and was excited to try it again on the smaller KLR. Sure enough, the dirt section flew by as I nosed the lighter KLR up its path, Carolyn following along behind me until we reached the gravel section of the main forest service road. From here on out it was a fast trip down good gravel roads and eventually on to smooth pavement.

I was surprised to come out of the forest at the intersection near Randle to find a line of cars, trucks and RVs waiting to merge onto 12. Apparently the end of the long weekend was nearing rapidly. Carolyn and I waited in line just long enough to cross the bridge before taking a shortcut down the shoulder to the corner, as most traffic was waiting to go left and we were going right. Right into the biggest fair I had ever seen in Packwood! Traffic crawled through this normally sleepy little town and I suggested that we stop somewhere else for lunch. Carolyn agreed and we tried to escape up Skate Creek Rd, only to find the other half of Seattle heading home from the weekend. I left Carolyn behind after passing an RV and then made a game of passing as many more as possible for the rest of this usually enjoyable and quiet stretch of twisty road.

We met up again in Ashford where we found a tasty lunch and directions to our next stretch of exploration: Forest Service Rd #92 (I think) that then turns into Scott Turner Rd. I was in some doubt about this road as there appeared to be numerous turnoffs and junctions and I wasn’t confident that we wouldn’t go astray. Normally I wouldn’t mind getting a little lost, but Carolyn had a plane to catch that night out of Seattle and it was rather important that we make it on time.

I stopped a couple of people I saw along the way to confirm that we were on the right track and with that bit of confidence we continued to climb up mountains, Mt Rainier keeping an eye on us from the east. And just as predicted by one helpful soul we passed through an open gate and into the outskirts of Eatonville.

Traffic hell awaited, punishing us I’m sure for managing to avoid so much of it thus far on our trip. A two-mile line up of cars were in front of us and there was no way around. Eventually we made it into Seattle, got her bike settled into my garage and Carolyn ready to head back home via the plane.

I look forward to the next time she needs to come to Seattle for “work” so that we can take the bikes out for a spin around the Pacific Northwest. Nothing is safe from us now!

The morning began under skies the color of oxidized aluminum. I woke early and quietly got geared up for the day. I stopped at the Chevron around the corner to fill the tank and then headed over to Jon’s. Our timing was good for as I approached the intersection near Jon’s house I saw the headlights of a motorcycle headed toward me. It was Jon. We wheeled into a gas station so he could fill up and then we were off down I-5.

Our first stop was the McDonalds in Marysville where we had a quick breakfast and met up with Gerry. We picked up Highway 2 and headed for a Park and Ride lot to gather a few more riders. A short blast down 405 brought us to Shari’s and another batch of riders. Also in the Shari’s parking lot was a group of Alfa Romeo owners meeting up for breakfast and a drive. One could almost hear the lone Ducati in our group whispering Italian to his four-wheeled brethren.

With the group finally assembled we were off. We were 12 people on 10 bikes. Five Harleys, three Yamahas, a Ducati and a Honda. A short way down the road we made a fuel stop in Black Diamond for a couple of riders. I took advantage of the opportunity to top off the VTX. Depending on riding conditions, I get 135 – 155 miles per tank and I was already 80 miles into my last fill up in Mount Vernon.

We picked up Highway 410 in Enumclaw and headed East. Somwhere along the way the sun came out and the day became dazzling. After passing through Federation Forest State Park (one of many Washington 120 Tour locations that we passed) we stopped again in Greenwater for fuel. I decided not to fuel up at this stop, knowing that we would be stopping here again on the way back. The Greenwater gas station served only 87 octane, which the VTX slurps happily, but I later heard caused some indigestion for the Ducati.

A few miles down the road we made the turnoff for Sunrise. A quick stop at the ranger station to pay our entry fee ($5 per person for motorcycles; entry good for 7 days) and we headed up the mountain. On the map this looks like an awesome motorcycle road; and it could be. It has amazing views and great twisties. It also has undulations in the pavement that will lift you off the seat, precipitous drops with no guardrails and rocks ranging in size from marbles to softballs. Keeping the speed reasonable and watching for the rocks still made for some good floorboard-dragging fun!

As we climbed the trees grew thinner until we passed the timberline and were surrounded by alpine meadows. Some of the bikes began to run funny due to the altitude. The view of the snow-covered peak loomed ahead and we pulled into the parking lot (6400 ft elevation the sign says) at the end of the road under a crystal clear blue sky. The view was breathtaking.

We spent about 30 minutes admiring the view and snapping photos before hunger urged us to head down for lunch at Crystal Mountain. the trip down was equally fun and included the benefit of being almost silent; no need to get on the power as it was all downhill.

Exiting the park we backtracked a few miles on 410 to the Crystal Mountain turnoff. This road too had some loose stuff and an uneven surface but 6 miles later we arrived at the Alpine Inn. Jon had called ahead and warned them of our arrival so they were ready for us. Still, the service was a little slow and the server downright miffed when we asked for separate checks; even though there were only two other occupied tables in the place. If we had sat at separate tables she would have had to write separate checks so what’s the big deal?

The food was good though with the BLT and the Snorting Elk deli sandwich popular selections. At the end of the meal it was noted that the gratuity had been added to the individual checks. Several folks, knowingly or not, left cash on the table as well. So I think the server made out alright for a lackluster job.

We returned the way we had come, stopping again in Greenwater for fuel where I got a surprise. The tank took only 2.5 gallons and I had 122 miles on the odo. 48.8 mpg!! The highest I’ve ever gotten. Of course, all that downhill riding had nothing to do with it, right?

As we retraced our route we stopped for a coffee somewhere around Maple Valley, after which riders began to split off from the group. After Gerry split off in Marysville Jon and I wound up as we had in the morning, droning up I-5. I arrived home almost exactly 12 hours after leaving. A little tired, but not as much as I thought I would after my longest one-day ride this year.

Over 400 riders participated in this classic Poker Run fundraiser for Wolf Haven International in Tenino, WA.  This is an increase of close to 400% compared to the 2006 ride.  Riders came from as far as Portland in the south and Everett in the north and one Arizona rider won the award for Longest Distance traveled to participate!

The ride began at Kamilche Trading Post south of Shelton and ended at The Junction Bar & Grill in Grand Mound. Both stops were sponsors and knew how to show the riders a good time. A hot breakfast, provided by Kamilche Trading Post got the ride started right and a HOG FEED BBQ started off the end of ride party at The Junction.

Live entertainment at the party was provided by The New Blues Brothers.  The bash included a 50/50 drawing which saw one lucky rider take home over $500.  The top poker hand took home $1,000, 2nd place taking $500 and 3rd taking $250.  Cash prizes were provided by sponsor Lucky Eagle Casino.

All profits from this event go directly to support the mission of Wolf Haven International, a 501(c)3 non-profit organization dedicated to the conservation of wolves.  Through education, conservation and a sanctuary for displaced wolves, they work to protect their resident wolves, along with those in the wild.