Sunday, August 28, 2011
Home
Home again, without any drama. Photos have been uploaded to the Photo Bucket link on the right.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Stupid Wind
730 am we were on the road. It was cool, but the wind frome the west warm so we prepared for a warm day.
Not much to write about. Colorado interstates have crappy pavement. Avan from Florida blew past us going about 90 in a 75 and was promptly pulled over. Nebraska had better roads, but more wind. That sucked too, but at least it was a constant wind, I.e. not gusts.
Bugs. Lotsa bugs. Had to clean visor at every stop.
Left lane speed enforcers.
we decided it wuld best to be east of Omaha to avoid that mess in the morning, so we ended up in Council Bluffs at dusk, with signs for campgrounds leading nowhere. $70 super 8 it is.
Brother and dad got the new chain installed and were on the road by 1pm, ending up in north platte, they made good time. They will bead north to Tracy tomorrow.
Not much to write about. Colorado interstates have crappy pavement. Avan from Florida blew past us going about 90 in a 75 and was promptly pulled over. Nebraska had better roads, but more wind. That sucked too, but at least it was a constant wind, I.e. not gusts.
Bugs. Lotsa bugs. Had to clean visor at every stop.
Left lane speed enforcers.
we decided it wuld best to be east of Omaha to avoid that mess in the morning, so we ended up in Council Bluffs at dusk, with signs for campgrounds leading nowhere. $70 super 8 it is.
Brother and dad got the new chain installed and were on the road by 1pm, ending up in north platte, they made good time. They will bead north to Tracy tomorrow.
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$44 for a clean Motel 6 next to a decent restaurant. Not bad, considering that we have paid more for a campsite.
Dad's chain is starting to go. It has tight spots and is lengthening daily. It is a little worrying, we have 1200 miles to go. Øyvind's chain was inexplicably tighter all around but otherwise in good shape. So we loosening one and tightened the other. If a chain breaks it can spit the whole thing out the back or get shoved into the transfer case, potentially ruining the engine. Worse, if it gets caught in the rear axle it can lock up the rear tire and cause a crash. This is important stuff.
Back on the road temps climbed again, into the 90's. The interstate went through some interesting canyons but Colorado is one of those states which drops the speed limit for the lowest common denominator.
In Glenwood Springs we had a great sandwich at Chomp's. The baguette was the best! However, the bad news is my dad's chain. He mentioned that a couple miles ago it started making a clicking sound, so we looked at it... and found that sometimes it tries to ride up on the rear sprocket. That is an indication that some links have worn enough to space the rollers out far enough that they don't fit correctly between the sprocket teeth.
So we had a choice... chance it and ride the remaining 1200 miles home, ruining the sprocket and risking a breakdown iin the middle of nowhere, or get it fixed here. Dad decided to get it fixed. We found a bike shop willing to fix it today but they had no chain, so they ordered one from Denver, for delivery the next day. Dad suggested we ride on without him since we were close to home and his bike wouldn't be ready until tomorrow afternoon. Øyvind stayed with Dad, and Chuck and I rode on over the mountians.
Went went east on I-70 through Vail, Dillon, etc and crossed some high altitude passes. The thin air left the FJR weak and accelerating required a downshift. Again, the speed limits were quite low. Instead of putting up signs suggesting lower speeds in the corners, the statutory limit was reduced. This removes much of the joy of motorcycling in Colorado and reduces the trip to mere sightseeing, and explains why Colorado is not considered a good motorcycling destination unless you are willing to egregiously break the law. For instance, corners which in California would have a 65mph limit and 45mph advisory speed would have a 35 mph limit here. Wewere often stuck behind cars from flat states who abided by these limits, but most Coloradoan's appeared to disregard them and exceeded the limit by 20mph or more. Thus, my recommendation is to save Colorado for the family cruiser vacation.
Not having a GPS, and thanks to poor signage on the part of Colorado's DOT, Chuck and I had a hard time finding our way to Hwy 72, also known as the Peak to Peak Highway. Center City was the worst. But eventually we got on it, and enjoyed the slow ride through national forests and spectacular mountain views. As dusk we found a campsite, cooled our beer in the adjacent river, and made a tuna sandwich for dinner.
Dad's chain is starting to go. It has tight spots and is lengthening daily. It is a little worrying, we have 1200 miles to go. Øyvind's chain was inexplicably tighter all around but otherwise in good shape. So we loosening one and tightened the other. If a chain breaks it can spit the whole thing out the back or get shoved into the transfer case, potentially ruining the engine. Worse, if it gets caught in the rear axle it can lock up the rear tire and cause a crash. This is important stuff.
Back on the road temps climbed again, into the 90's. The interstate went through some interesting canyons but Colorado is one of those states which drops the speed limit for the lowest common denominator.
In Glenwood Springs we had a great sandwich at Chomp's. The baguette was the best! However, the bad news is my dad's chain. He mentioned that a couple miles ago it started making a clicking sound, so we looked at it... and found that sometimes it tries to ride up on the rear sprocket. That is an indication that some links have worn enough to space the rollers out far enough that they don't fit correctly between the sprocket teeth.
So we had a choice... chance it and ride the remaining 1200 miles home, ruining the sprocket and risking a breakdown iin the middle of nowhere, or get it fixed here. Dad decided to get it fixed. We found a bike shop willing to fix it today but they had no chain, so they ordered one from Denver, for delivery the next day. Dad suggested we ride on without him since we were close to home and his bike wouldn't be ready until tomorrow afternoon. Øyvind stayed with Dad, and Chuck and I rode on over the mountians.
Went went east on I-70 through Vail, Dillon, etc and crossed some high altitude passes. The thin air left the FJR weak and accelerating required a downshift. Again, the speed limits were quite low. Instead of putting up signs suggesting lower speeds in the corners, the statutory limit was reduced. This removes much of the joy of motorcycling in Colorado and reduces the trip to mere sightseeing, and explains why Colorado is not considered a good motorcycling destination unless you are willing to egregiously break the law. For instance, corners which in California would have a 65mph limit and 45mph advisory speed would have a 35 mph limit here. Wewere often stuck behind cars from flat states who abided by these limits, but most Coloradoan's appeared to disregard them and exceeded the limit by 20mph or more. Thus, my recommendation is to save Colorado for the family cruiser vacation.
Not having a GPS, and thanks to poor signage on the part of Colorado's DOT, Chuck and I had a hard time finding our way to Hwy 72, also known as the Peak to Peak Highway. Center City was the worst. But eventually we got on it, and enjoyed the slow ride through national forests and spectacular mountain views. As dusk we found a campsite, cooled our beer in the adjacent river, and made a tuna sandwich for dinner.
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Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Hidden Beer
After a day in Vegas at 110 F we took off for home. We wated an early start to beat the heat, but decided that might put usin traffic so we delayed until 9am. That gave me time for a run.
Leaving Las Vegas was easy. Getting out of Nevada required more mettle. The dash temp gauge registered 105 F before we got to Utah, where it vacillated between 104 and 91, with a dip to 79 as we crossed a mountain range. But overall it was a hot ride and every hour I refilled my Camelbak.
I got stung by something in my side, probably a wasp. Could not find the stinger or the culprit, but it hurt like a mofo.
Since we are looking to make up time after spending extra time in Vegas and California we are slabbing it. I-15 to I-70 ad stuff.
The desert is, well, a desert. The Virgin River Gorge was nice. Utah is full of great canyons.
We got a cheap room at the Motel 6 ad Chuck and Øyvind went to get beer. Being Utah, the visible beer is only 4% Abv, so they had to ask the locals where the good stuff is. Turns out they have to hide it in the gift shop of the restaurant at the truck stop. Something about the liquor control board being run by Mormons.
Leaving Las Vegas was easy. Getting out of Nevada required more mettle. The dash temp gauge registered 105 F before we got to Utah, where it vacillated between 104 and 91, with a dip to 79 as we crossed a mountain range. But overall it was a hot ride and every hour I refilled my Camelbak.
I got stung by something in my side, probably a wasp. Could not find the stinger or the culprit, but it hurt like a mofo.
Since we are looking to make up time after spending extra time in Vegas and California we are slabbing it. I-15 to I-70 ad stuff.
The desert is, well, a desert. The Virgin River Gorge was nice. Utah is full of great canyons.
We got a cheap room at the Motel 6 ad Chuck and Øyvind went to get beer. Being Utah, the visible beer is only 4% Abv, so they had to ask the locals where the good stuff is. Turns out they have to hide it in the gift shop of the restaurant at the truck stop. Something about the liquor control board being run by Mormons.
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Monday, August 22, 2011
Over the Mountains
It was cool in the morning. I tried to run but after struggling for two miles I gave. I am guessing I am not used to such exercise at 7am. But it was better than nothing.
The Sonora Pass, hwy 108, was a beauty. The pavement was near perfect as it climbed from 3000 feet up to 9600 and overlooked a dam and reservoir (I think it was the Hetch Hetchy) and temperatures stayed cool. However, as we dropped into the eastern desert the temperatures climbed into the 90's.
Going south on 395 throught Lee Vining (and lunch) offers fabulous views of the eastern side of he Sierra mountains. In Big Pine we took the scenic, twisty, high-elevation roller-coaster Hwt 168 to the straight and fast 266. Interestingly, the desert brown was interrupted by a green corridor along the road. I wonder if the little rain that falls on the road is concentrated into the ditches?
We dropped back down to the desert floor and temps went up. The road wa straight. We rode straight for hundreds of miles, got gas in Beatty, rode the last 115 miles to vegas in the dark in 97 F.
Once in Vegas we stayed with a friend of my brothers. Here we are taking a rest day before slabbing it the remaining 1700 miles home the rest of the week.
The Sonora Pass, hwy 108, was a beauty. The pavement was near perfect as it climbed from 3000 feet up to 9600 and overlooked a dam and reservoir (I think it was the Hetch Hetchy) and temperatures stayed cool. However, as we dropped into the eastern desert the temperatures climbed into the 90's.
Going south on 395 throught Lee Vining (and lunch) offers fabulous views of the eastern side of he Sierra mountains. In Big Pine we took the scenic, twisty, high-elevation roller-coaster Hwt 168 to the straight and fast 266. Interestingly, the desert brown was interrupted by a green corridor along the road. I wonder if the little rain that falls on the road is concentrated into the ditches?
We dropped back down to the desert floor and temps went up. The road wa straight. We rode straight for hundreds of miles, got gas in Beatty, rode the last 115 miles to vegas in the dark in 97 F.
Once in Vegas we stayed with a friend of my brothers. Here we are taking a rest day before slabbing it the remaining 1700 miles home the rest of the week.
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Frustration
Another cold foggy morning. We ate our oatmeal and watched our pot-smoking neighbors from Pennsylvania cram themselves into an old crappy van.
Today we were going to ride the pacific coast highway. The road from Leggett to the coast is nice and twisty but from the coast to Fort Bragg it is a straight and boring stretch so we didn't do that. Instead we decided to ride 101 to Willits, then take Hwy 20 to Fort Bragg.
But first the Avenue of Giants. Dwarfed by 250 foot tall (and 15 feet in diameter) redwoods we rode through the groves in awe.
In Willits we had a sammich then got Hwy 20. Once again traffic pulled over for us. We got behind the green van from Pennsylvania, and after a couple minutes driving like a turd (crossing the center line in corners to straighten the road, etc) even they used a turneout to let pass. Then we go behind a Honda Odessy with Consul plates, who was behind two other vehicles. Those two pulled off to let the Honda and I pass. Then the Honda proceeded to go 40mph for the remaining parts of the good twisties. What a total jerk. Perhaps the jackass couldn't read the "use turnouts to let traffic pass" signs. Maybe the idiot didn't understand why others let them pass. "Ooooh we are diplomats, they know we are special and thus let us pass". Yeah, short bus special. They should be diplomats in Chicago where they will fit in perfectly.
In Fort Bragg we gassed up then went south on Hwy 1. This was. Letdown. The cold fog let up for a short time in Port Arena, but then blanketed the coast. Towards Jenner we got a few glimpses of the cliffs but that was all. We hightailed it to Santa Rosa's very clean Travelodge and walked to the Russian River brewpub. Here they serve up incredible ales, fermented with wild yeasts and aged in oak barrels. They are pioneers, and exceed even the belgians in their craft. Apparently many others feel the same way, as it was packed and noisy. This was truly a high point of the trip for me.
Once back in the Travelodge I was quickly asleep.
Today we were going to ride the pacific coast highway. The road from Leggett to the coast is nice and twisty but from the coast to Fort Bragg it is a straight and boring stretch so we didn't do that. Instead we decided to ride 101 to Willits, then take Hwy 20 to Fort Bragg.
But first the Avenue of Giants. Dwarfed by 250 foot tall (and 15 feet in diameter) redwoods we rode through the groves in awe.
In Willits we had a sammich then got Hwy 20. Once again traffic pulled over for us. We got behind the green van from Pennsylvania, and after a couple minutes driving like a turd (crossing the center line in corners to straighten the road, etc) even they used a turneout to let pass. Then we go behind a Honda Odessy with Consul plates, who was behind two other vehicles. Those two pulled off to let the Honda and I pass. Then the Honda proceeded to go 40mph for the remaining parts of the good twisties. What a total jerk. Perhaps the jackass couldn't read the "use turnouts to let traffic pass" signs. Maybe the idiot didn't understand why others let them pass. "Ooooh we are diplomats, they know we are special and thus let us pass". Yeah, short bus special. They should be diplomats in Chicago where they will fit in perfectly.
In Fort Bragg we gassed up then went south on Hwy 1. This was. Letdown. The cold fog let up for a short time in Port Arena, but then blanketed the coast. Towards Jenner we got a few glimpses of the cliffs but that was all. We hightailed it to Santa Rosa's very clean Travelodge and walked to the Russian River brewpub. Here they serve up incredible ales, fermented with wild yeasts and aged in oak barrels. They are pioneers, and exceed even the belgians in their craft. Apparently many others feel the same way, as it was packed and noisy. This was truly a high point of the trip for me.
Once back in the Travelodge I was quickly asleep.
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Frustration
Another cold foggy morning. We ate our oatmeal and watched our pot-smoking neighbors from Pennsylvania cram themselves into an old crappy van.
Today we were going to ride the pacific coast highway. The road from Leggett to the coast is nice and twisty but from the coast to Fort Bragg it is a straight and boring stretch so we didn't do that. Instead we decided to ride 101 to Willits, then take Hwy 20 to Fort Bragg.
But first the Avenue of Giants. Dwarfed by 250 foot tall (and 15 feet in diameter) redwoods we rode through the groves in awe.
In Willits we had a sammich then got Hwy 20. Once again traffic pulled over for us. We got behind the green van from Pennsylvania, and after a couple minutes driving like a turd (crossing the center line in corners to straighten the road, etc) even they used a turneout to let pass. Then we go behind a Honda Odessy with Consul plates, who was behind two other vehicles. Those two pulled off to let the Honda and I pass. Then the Honda proceeded to go 40mph for the remaining parts of the good twisties. What a total jerk. Perhaps the jackass couldn't read the "use turnouts to let traffic pass" signs. Maybe the idiot didn't understand why others let them pass. "Ooooh we are diplomats, they know we are special and thus let us pass". Yeah, short bus special. They should be diplomats in Chicago where they will fit in perfectly.
In Fort Bragg we gassed up then went south on Hwy 1. This was. Letdown. The cold fog let up for a short time in Port Arena, but then blanketed the coast. Towards Jenner we got a few glimpses of the cliffs but that was all. We hightailed it to Santa Rosa's very clean Travelodge and walked to the Russian River brewpub. Here they serve up incredible ales, fermented with wild yeasts and aged in oak barrels. They are pioneers, and exceed even the belgians in their craft. Apparently many others feel the same way, as it was packed and noisy. This was truly a high point of the trip for me.
Once back in the Travelodge I was quickly asleep.
Today we were going to ride the pacific coast highway. The road from Leggett to the coast is nice and twisty but from the coast to Fort Bragg it is a straight and boring stretch so we didn't do that. Instead we decided to ride 101 to Willits, then take Hwy 20 to Fort Bragg.
But first the Avenue of Giants. Dwarfed by 250 foot tall (and 15 feet in diameter) redwoods we rode through the groves in awe.
In Willits we had a sammich then got Hwy 20. Once again traffic pulled over for us. We got behind the green van from Pennsylvania, and after a couple minutes driving like a turd (crossing the center line in corners to straighten the road, etc) even they used a turneout to let pass. Then we go behind a Honda Odessy with Consul plates, who was behind two other vehicles. Those two pulled off to let the Honda and I pass. Then the Honda proceeded to go 40mph for the remaining parts of the good twisties. What a total jerk. Perhaps the jackass couldn't read the "use turnouts to let traffic pass" signs. Maybe the idiot didn't understand why others let them pass. "Ooooh we are diplomats, they know we are special and thus let us pass". Yeah, short bus special. They should be diplomats in Chicago where they will fit in perfectly.
In Fort Bragg we gassed up then went south on Hwy 1. This was. Letdown. The cold fog let up for a short time in Port Arena, but then blanketed the coast. Towards Jenner we got a few glimpses of the cliffs but that was all. We hightailed it to Santa Rosa's very clean Travelodge and walked to the Russian River brewpub. Here they serve up incredible ales, fermented with wild yeasts and aged in oak barrels. They are pioneers, and exceed even the belgians in their craft. Apparently many others feel the same way, as it was packed and noisy. This was truly a high point of the trip for me.
Once back in the Travelodge I was quickly asleep.
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I Wish They All Could Be California... drivers!
Cool and foggy was the morning on the coast. As I ran along I. found various trails that skirted the ocean. Another runner, about 65, stopped and we exchanged some words. In particular, he had mentioned running a marathon around Crater Lake yesterday... now THAT would be spectacular!
I finished my paltry 4 miles along the coast despite passing blackberry bushes. It was one of those "now I remember why I lived here, what would it take to move back?" moments. A shower, a breakfast, goodbyes and we went south on 101 in the cool fog.
In Eureka we split ways. The Thor's went directly to the campground in Fortuna. Chuck and I went east on 299 to Weaverville, through the Shasta/Trinity national forests. The highway follows the river canyon and is perfectly banked. Not twenty miles from the coast the temperatures had risen significantly and we stopped for a break at a rest area. We chatted with another rider, on a zx10, who was going to Willow Creek for lunch.
Whenever we got on the tail of a car it pulled over to let us pass. Oh why can't all drivers be as courteous? This is a behavior we see all the time in California, sometimes in Oregon and Washington, and never in the midwest.
By the time we reached Weaverville the temperature had climbed to 97F and we stopped to remove layers and rehydrate.
From Weaverville we rode south on 3 to Hayfork. Where 299 was a busy road composed chiefly of sweepers along a river, 3 was a 20 mile stretch of 25mph corners with little traffic, going over a mountan pass. Left right left right left right left right left right left right left right etc... The only drawback was the pavement. It had been recently resurfaced and I didn't entirely trust it and thus took it a slower than usual. Every so often I would see what looked like some leftover gravel in the middle of the lane, but the bike never slipped. This entire area is "twisty mecca". Every car we got behind pulled over to let us pass.
Hwy 36 was going to take us back to Fortuna. More corners... sweepers, tight turns, etc abound as the 70ish mile road follows the Mad River. The western end is a very tight and technical 1.5 lane wide road with no markings. We waited for some construction and a cbr250 pulled in behind us. He got a smoke from the car behind us, demonstrating his death wish. Once past the construction the the cars in front used the turnouts to let us pass and the road went into the coastal redwoods. We increased our pace, yet could not shake the little cbr. Or the car behind him. Or the big ass monster truck hauling an atv. Damn these guys are fast, so we used a turn out to let them pass. The cbr and following car used another pullout to let the truck pass, and that was the last we saw of the truck, as it skittered bounced and swayed through a corner on its oversized balloon tires. Crazy.
California, and to a lessor extent Oregon and Washington, do not drop the speed limits when roads get curvy. They will post recommended speeds, I.e. the yellow 35 or 25 mph signs, but the legal speed limit remains 55 or 65. That means we are maintaining a legal speed most of the time.
It got cold again as we approached the coast so we stopped to add layers. We were getting tired and it was getting dark, requiring us to slow down. We reached the campsite to find my dad and brother and went to the nearby Eel River brewpub for some brews. Their saison was excellent, the ipa not hoppy enough (it was an english style), the porter a little thin, they were out of nitro for the imperial stout, and the old english ale was rich and complex. It was like drinking and old leather couch. It was a great end to a great day!
I finished my paltry 4 miles along the coast despite passing blackberry bushes. It was one of those "now I remember why I lived here, what would it take to move back?" moments. A shower, a breakfast, goodbyes and we went south on 101 in the cool fog.
In Eureka we split ways. The Thor's went directly to the campground in Fortuna. Chuck and I went east on 299 to Weaverville, through the Shasta/Trinity national forests. The highway follows the river canyon and is perfectly banked. Not twenty miles from the coast the temperatures had risen significantly and we stopped for a break at a rest area. We chatted with another rider, on a zx10, who was going to Willow Creek for lunch.
Whenever we got on the tail of a car it pulled over to let us pass. Oh why can't all drivers be as courteous? This is a behavior we see all the time in California, sometimes in Oregon and Washington, and never in the midwest.
By the time we reached Weaverville the temperature had climbed to 97F and we stopped to remove layers and rehydrate.
From Weaverville we rode south on 3 to Hayfork. Where 299 was a busy road composed chiefly of sweepers along a river, 3 was a 20 mile stretch of 25mph corners with little traffic, going over a mountan pass. Left right left right left right left right left right left right left right etc... The only drawback was the pavement. It had been recently resurfaced and I didn't entirely trust it and thus took it a slower than usual. Every so often I would see what looked like some leftover gravel in the middle of the lane, but the bike never slipped. This entire area is "twisty mecca". Every car we got behind pulled over to let us pass.
Hwy 36 was going to take us back to Fortuna. More corners... sweepers, tight turns, etc abound as the 70ish mile road follows the Mad River. The western end is a very tight and technical 1.5 lane wide road with no markings. We waited for some construction and a cbr250 pulled in behind us. He got a smoke from the car behind us, demonstrating his death wish. Once past the construction the the cars in front used the turnouts to let us pass and the road went into the coastal redwoods. We increased our pace, yet could not shake the little cbr. Or the car behind him. Or the big ass monster truck hauling an atv. Damn these guys are fast, so we used a turn out to let them pass. The cbr and following car used another pullout to let the truck pass, and that was the last we saw of the truck, as it skittered bounced and swayed through a corner on its oversized balloon tires. Crazy.
California, and to a lessor extent Oregon and Washington, do not drop the speed limits when roads get curvy. They will post recommended speeds, I.e. the yellow 35 or 25 mph signs, but the legal speed limit remains 55 or 65. That means we are maintaining a legal speed most of the time.
It got cold again as we approached the coast so we stopped to add layers. We were getting tired and it was getting dark, requiring us to slow down. We reached the campsite to find my dad and brother and went to the nearby Eel River brewpub for some brews. Their saison was excellent, the ipa not hoppy enough (it was an english style), the porter a little thin, they were out of nitro for the imperial stout, and the old english ale was rich and complex. It was like drinking and old leather couch. It was a great end to a great day!
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Oregon's Beauty
It was a cool morning in the mountains, so much so that those with inferior gear needed an upgrade. But before we left we stopped by the camp host and got a partial refund since I had overpaid. I had originally assumed that the campsite price included one vehicle, but it included 4 motocycles! Then we forgot to apply my dad's Golden Age discount, total cost was only $6 for the night. Funny thing was that the host though Chuck was my partner. Um... no......
The ride out of the mountains was uneventful and it brought us back to civilization. First town was Prineville, where Facebook has their new data center. Then in Bend we stopped at Target and Outdoor Outfitters, until we got to the McMenamin's and had lunch with Jenn's cousin, Mike. We had a great time catching.
From Bend we rode south on 97 with the stratovolcanoes as a backdrop. Not a cloud in the sky, the air was clear and the three sisters and the bachelor stood out in all their snowcapped glory.
Mike had suggested that we secure a campsite before we got to Crater Lake so we did just that, at Farewell Bend. The Good: It was another $8 site and right on the Rogue river. The Bad: it was close to the road and no showers. After setting up our tents we jumped on the bikes and rode up to Crater Lake with enough light left to enjoy it. It is truly the 'Jewel of the national parks'.
Dinner was simple: Oreo's and beer. After a big lunch we weren't in the mood for a large meal. As the temp's in the mountains dropped we crawled into our tents to rest for the next day.
The ride out of the mountains was uneventful and it brought us back to civilization. First town was Prineville, where Facebook has their new data center. Then in Bend we stopped at Target and Outdoor Outfitters, until we got to the McMenamin's and had lunch with Jenn's cousin, Mike. We had a great time catching.
From Bend we rode south on 97 with the stratovolcanoes as a backdrop. Not a cloud in the sky, the air was clear and the three sisters and the bachelor stood out in all their snowcapped glory.
Mike had suggested that we secure a campsite before we got to Crater Lake so we did just that, at Farewell Bend. The Good: It was another $8 site and right on the Rogue river. The Bad: it was close to the road and no showers. After setting up our tents we jumped on the bikes and rode up to Crater Lake with enough light left to enjoy it. It is truly the 'Jewel of the national parks'.
Dinner was simple: Oreo's and beer. After a big lunch we weren't in the mood for a large meal. As the temp's in the mountains dropped we crawled into our tents to rest for the next day.
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Coast and strange people
Once we reached Prospect, Oregon we had cell service and were able to reach sme relatives in Brookings. We also stopped for breakfast, but as it was lunch time we had to convince the chef to make breakfast for. This was at the Prospect Grill and Trophy Room. The prices were a little on the high side, and the coffee blah, but the portions were twice what they should have been and the food was incredible. This was the best damn french toast I had ever had.
With a full belly we passed through Grants Pass and the boring ride past Cave Junction onto 199 into California. The bug patrol waved us past. 199 is a great road but it has lots of traffic. Fortunately drivers here are very courteous and pull off the road to let us pass. There is none of ego we see in Minnesota, or the "I have to be in front" or "I will enforce what I think is safe" which is so prevalent in the midwest. I had forgotten how nice drivers are here.
We stopped at a rest stop and watched the strange people around us. Homeless, yuppies, rednecks. We must be in California!
As the road approached the coast the heat dissipated but it remained clear. The short ride up to Brookings brought with it more traffic, but also wonderful hospitality from our hosts. We had a nice evening of chatting and homebrew.
With a full belly we passed through Grants Pass and the boring ride past Cave Junction onto 199 into California. The bug patrol waved us past. 199 is a great road but it has lots of traffic. Fortunately drivers here are very courteous and pull off the road to let us pass. There is none of ego we see in Minnesota, or the "I have to be in front" or "I will enforce what I think is safe" which is so prevalent in the midwest. I had forgotten how nice drivers are here.
We stopped at a rest stop and watched the strange people around us. Homeless, yuppies, rednecks. We must be in California!
As the road approached the coast the heat dissipated but it remained clear. The short ride up to Brookings brought with it more traffic, but also wonderful hospitality from our hosts. We had a nice evening of chatting and homebrew.
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Volcanoes
There are seeral volcanoes in Oregon, and much of the landscape is formed by volcanic activity. Today we got to see some.
We awoke in the Ochoco Mountains determined that the next night will be in a hotel room with a shower. Going on two days now, and my feet are getting pretty ripe. Fortunately my boots lock odors in as well as they keep moisture out. Without shower facilities I am not contemplating going for a run or getting any exercise.
Riding from our campsite in the Ochoco mountians was a breeze, past Facebook's data centers in Prineville and on to Bend. Traffic was definitely more dense here as we rode to the McMenamins Old St Francis School for lunch with Mike, a good friend and Jennifer's cousin.
During lunch we discussed our plans for the rest of the day. Should we stay in Bend and overpay for a room? Push on to Crater Lake and overpay for a room there? In the end we decided to stay at a campground again... it is hard to argue with $8 night. As this is tourist season in Oregon we decided to secure a site first, then see Crater Lake.
There are no good routes from Bend to Crate Lake. They are straight and their only redeeming qualities are expedience and views of volcanoes. From north to south we could see Jefferson, McKenzie, the three Sisters, Broken Top , Bachelor and Thielsen. We. Passed the Lava Lands cindercone and lava fields. These are part of the eastern edge of the Ring Of Fire.
Once around Crater Lakie we secured a spot at Farewell Bend (on the Rogue river) for $8. After I paid I realized there was no shower. Argh! Three days! We quickly erected our tents and rode off to see Crater Lake.
I won't try to describe the lake. You either know what it is or you don't. You have to see it in person to appreciate it. Besides, my thumbs are getting sore.
After the lake returning to our campsite with beer we washed our stinky feet in the numbingly cold river, drank the beer, and went to sleep.
We awoke in the Ochoco Mountains determined that the next night will be in a hotel room with a shower. Going on two days now, and my feet are getting pretty ripe. Fortunately my boots lock odors in as well as they keep moisture out. Without shower facilities I am not contemplating going for a run or getting any exercise.
Riding from our campsite in the Ochoco mountians was a breeze, past Facebook's data centers in Prineville and on to Bend. Traffic was definitely more dense here as we rode to the McMenamins Old St Francis School for lunch with Mike, a good friend and Jennifer's cousin.
During lunch we discussed our plans for the rest of the day. Should we stay in Bend and overpay for a room? Push on to Crater Lake and overpay for a room there? In the end we decided to stay at a campground again... it is hard to argue with $8 night. As this is tourist season in Oregon we decided to secure a site first, then see Crater Lake.
There are no good routes from Bend to Crate Lake. They are straight and their only redeeming qualities are expedience and views of volcanoes. From north to south we could see Jefferson, McKenzie, the three Sisters, Broken Top , Bachelor and Thielsen. We. Passed the Lava Lands cindercone and lava fields. These are part of the eastern edge of the Ring Of Fire.
Once around Crater Lakie we secured a spot at Farewell Bend (on the Rogue river) for $8. After I paid I realized there was no shower. Argh! Three days! We quickly erected our tents and rode off to see Crater Lake.
I won't try to describe the lake. You either know what it is or you don't. You have to see it in person to appreciate it. Besides, my thumbs are getting sore.
After the lake returning to our campsite with beer we washed our stinky feet in the numbingly cold river, drank the beer, and went to sleep.
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Equipment Failure
On our trips we rely on lots of equipment: motorcycles, protective gear, electronics, etc. Today we encountered a couple failures.
The first was fairly simple, and happened to both my brother and dad. Paul's dad experienced the same failure. It is simply being warm enough at night.
Camping in the mountains is very different from camping in the midwest. The higher altitudes alone will be enough to drop overnight lows to the 30's, and this means that fleece blankets or lightweight sleeping bag just won't cut it. When we camped in the Ochoco mountains last night the temps dropped down to the 30's. Both my dad and brother's sleeping gear was insufficient, thus they had to stop and get additional sleeping bags. Now they both have two small lightweight sleeping bags, which isn't a bad solution. They will be warm enough on cold nights, have the option of using one on warm nights, and it is easier to pack to small sacks than one large one.
Another failure on this trip was my GPS, a Garmin Zumo 550. The digitizer (the layer on the screen which detects finger presses) went haywire, sending random inputs to the unit. this renders the unit useless. The fix is to order a new screen and digitizer from Hong Kong for $50, but won't help me now. I considered simply purchasing a new motorcycle-specific GPS but they cost upwards of $600 (besides being waterproof, they have lots of bells and whistles like bluetooth, cell phone headset passthrough, bike mounts, multi-step routing, mp3 players, etc). But for the rest of this trip we will rely on my brothers unit. So far this is working out ok.
Yesterday morning I experienced a failure in my earbuds. On this trip I am using etymotic er6i buds with Sebote hearing aid tips glued to them. This $90 solution blocks nearly all road and wind noise while comfortably delivering crisp and clear sound. They sit deep in my ear canals. Once before, when removing them, the tip remained in my ear. Paul managed to extract it with a Leatherman tool and since them I have used glue to hold the tips on. Well... yesterday when I tried to remove them, the glue on both of them gave up. This time it was Chuck working a leatherman who extracted them. In leiu of anything better, I resorted to using a pair of MeeTek earbuds designed for use under helmets which a friend gave me. They worked ok for a short period. They blocked enough wind noise such that I could ride 65 mph. Any faster and the wind noise was painful. And the audio quality sucked. This was definitely not a workable solution. So once back at the campsite I dug out the original etymotic tips and used those. They are nowhere near as comfortable as the Sebotek tips and we will see how long I can last with them. One tip came of in my ear again, wich was surprising as these are the tips made for these units. I have since superglued them on. We will see how well this works... for now it looks like I will have to save up and buy custom molded earbuds over the winter.... $400....
For now, let's hope that is the extent of our equipment failures...
The first was fairly simple, and happened to both my brother and dad. Paul's dad experienced the same failure. It is simply being warm enough at night.
Camping in the mountains is very different from camping in the midwest. The higher altitudes alone will be enough to drop overnight lows to the 30's, and this means that fleece blankets or lightweight sleeping bag just won't cut it. When we camped in the Ochoco mountains last night the temps dropped down to the 30's. Both my dad and brother's sleeping gear was insufficient, thus they had to stop and get additional sleeping bags. Now they both have two small lightweight sleeping bags, which isn't a bad solution. They will be warm enough on cold nights, have the option of using one on warm nights, and it is easier to pack to small sacks than one large one.
Another failure on this trip was my GPS, a Garmin Zumo 550. The digitizer (the layer on the screen which detects finger presses) went haywire, sending random inputs to the unit. this renders the unit useless. The fix is to order a new screen and digitizer from Hong Kong for $50, but won't help me now. I considered simply purchasing a new motorcycle-specific GPS but they cost upwards of $600 (besides being waterproof, they have lots of bells and whistles like bluetooth, cell phone headset passthrough, bike mounts, multi-step routing, mp3 players, etc). But for the rest of this trip we will rely on my brothers unit. So far this is working out ok.
Yesterday morning I experienced a failure in my earbuds. On this trip I am using etymotic er6i buds with Sebote hearing aid tips glued to them. This $90 solution blocks nearly all road and wind noise while comfortably delivering crisp and clear sound. They sit deep in my ear canals. Once before, when removing them, the tip remained in my ear. Paul managed to extract it with a Leatherman tool and since them I have used glue to hold the tips on. Well... yesterday when I tried to remove them, the glue on both of them gave up. This time it was Chuck working a leatherman who extracted them. In leiu of anything better, I resorted to using a pair of MeeTek earbuds designed for use under helmets which a friend gave me. They worked ok for a short period. They blocked enough wind noise such that I could ride 65 mph. Any faster and the wind noise was painful. And the audio quality sucked. This was definitely not a workable solution. So once back at the campsite I dug out the original etymotic tips and used those. They are nowhere near as comfortable as the Sebotek tips and we will see how long I can last with them. One tip came of in my ear again, wich was surprising as these are the tips made for these units. I have since superglued them on. We will see how well this works... for now it looks like I will have to save up and buy custom molded earbuds over the winter.... $400....
For now, let's hope that is the extent of our equipment failures...
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Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Eastern Oregon
Shortly after leaving our campsite we encountered more curves. For several miles they switched back and forth down to the Grande Ronde river. Then we leaned our way back up more twisties up to the plateau, 4000 above sea level, overlooking the chief joseph valley.
There isn't much to write about today. We had a good run through the river valleys making our way west. We were hoping to get to Bend but by Mitchel it was getting late. However the cafes in town were closed so we grabbed some cans of soup and found a campsite in the Ochoco mountains.
There isn't much to write about today. We had a good run through the river valleys making our way west. We were hoping to get to Bend but by Mitchel it was getting late. However the cafes in town were closed so we grabbed some cans of soup and found a campsite in the Ochoco mountains.
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Friday, August 12, 2011
Rest Day
Friday was a rest day. A day to get some oil changed, headlight bulbs fixed, drink some coffee and decide where to go. And attempt to fix a broken GPS.
Looking at the weather for going north, it appeared we would have a nice weekend then a couple crappy weeks. Therefore we made the decision to head south. We will probably angle down across Oregon to Brookings, ride in northern California, and then along the Pacific Coast Highway. We are also thinking about the Grand Canyon... who knows?
Looking at the weather for going north, it appeared we would have a nice weekend then a couple crappy weeks. Therefore we made the decision to head south. We will probably angle down across Oregon to Brookings, ride in northern California, and then along the Pacific Coast Highway. We are also thinking about the Grand Canyon... who knows?
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Montana!
It was a cold morning outside Cody, and the thunder rumbled in the distance. That did not bode well. Our plan was to ride over Beartooth Pass. At 11000 feet it is cold up there and it will snow more likely than hail.
The KOA offered crappy free pancakes with corn syrup and meats for sale. We chatted with a family from Holland about their trip to Yellowstone. Now back to the pancakes.. they certainly didn't like them but were also forcing them down with butter (no corn syrup). And no meats. Looks like the family of six just got pancakes.
After breakfast we packed our tents and hit the road. Chief Joseph Scenic Highway was first and it was excellent. The weather cooperated beautifully, traffic was light and what little there was we passed easily. This is a road we'll suited for spirited riding.
Beartooth Pass follows naturally. The road is tighter, much higher in elevation and lots more traffic. It did not disappoint. The weather was a cool 52F with scattered clouds, and at one point we looked back down one valley we had climbed out of and saw it was raining there. What luck!
From Red Lodge to Columbus we made quick work of the perfect pavement and smoth sweepers of 78. But the ride from Columbus to Bozeman sucked. Strong gusts of sidewinds made it a miserable ride. At least our reward was a Pickel Barrel sandwich!
Next stop was Wheat Montana the a final stretch of broken pavement to Helena. Whew. Tired and beat we arrived at 8pm and met Chuck and his mother, Abby.
Chuck had ridden in from Oregon and brought with him a bottle of Deschutes Abyss, 2009 vintage. He had also stopped at Moose Drool in Missoula and picked up a growler, which was much roastier than the bottled stuff we get in Minnesota. We had a good night of chatting before we retired. As usual, Chuck and I slept out on the deck.
The KOA offered crappy free pancakes with corn syrup and meats for sale. We chatted with a family from Holland about their trip to Yellowstone. Now back to the pancakes.. they certainly didn't like them but were also forcing them down with butter (no corn syrup). And no meats. Looks like the family of six just got pancakes.
After breakfast we packed our tents and hit the road. Chief Joseph Scenic Highway was first and it was excellent. The weather cooperated beautifully, traffic was light and what little there was we passed easily. This is a road we'll suited for spirited riding.
Beartooth Pass follows naturally. The road is tighter, much higher in elevation and lots more traffic. It did not disappoint. The weather was a cool 52F with scattered clouds, and at one point we looked back down one valley we had climbed out of and saw it was raining there. What luck!
From Red Lodge to Columbus we made quick work of the perfect pavement and smoth sweepers of 78. But the ride from Columbus to Bozeman sucked. Strong gusts of sidewinds made it a miserable ride. At least our reward was a Pickel Barrel sandwich!
Next stop was Wheat Montana the a final stretch of broken pavement to Helena. Whew. Tired and beat we arrived at 8pm and met Chuck and his mother, Abby.
Chuck had ridden in from Oregon and brought with him a bottle of Deschutes Abyss, 2009 vintage. He had also stopped at Moose Drool in Missoula and picked up a growler, which was much roastier than the bottled stuff we get in Minnesota. We had a good night of chatting before we retired. As usual, Chuck and I slept out on the deck.
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Thursday, August 11, 2011
Flashback ?
Today was a repeat of last years' ride, and the year before, andthe year before that. Why change something that just plain works?
Since we got in late we decided to stay in bed a little later, especially as we had decent hotel beds. Dad and I were still up 8 though.... so we did some parking lot maneuvers, made coffee, lubed chains, coordinated with Ron, planned the day and left a message for Chuck. By 11 we were on the road.
We left Gillette, then rode to Sheridan via Spotted Horse and had lunch. We ate lunch and got gas in Dayton and checked tire pressures and proceeded to enter the Bighorns behind some really slow poeple. It was raining anyway so we took it easy on those awesome roads. We didn't even hit construction.
As we climbed from 3000 to 9000 feet the temps dropped from upper 80's to upper 50's. A quick coffee break at an alpine lake refreshed us and we continued on across the Bighorns.
The trip remained uneventful... we checked into the Cody KOA, found dinner and went to sleep. The End for Wednesday.
Since we got in late we decided to stay in bed a little later, especially as we had decent hotel beds. Dad and I were still up 8 though.... so we did some parking lot maneuvers, made coffee, lubed chains, coordinated with Ron, planned the day and left a message for Chuck. By 11 we were on the road.
We left Gillette, then rode to Sheridan via Spotted Horse and had lunch. We ate lunch and got gas in Dayton and checked tire pressures and proceeded to enter the Bighorns behind some really slow poeple. It was raining anyway so we took it easy on those awesome roads. We didn't even hit construction.
As we climbed from 3000 to 9000 feet the temps dropped from upper 80's to upper 50's. A quick coffee break at an alpine lake refreshed us and we continued on across the Bighorns.
The trip remained uneventful... we checked into the Cody KOA, found dinner and went to sleep. The End for Wednesday.
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Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Are they effin stooopid?!?!?
We were up at daybreak and rode out early from Øyvind's house in Tracy. It was a cool ride to Sioux Falls where we tried to find a local diner called Marlins but we failed in that endeavor and settled for Perkins. Eh. It is sustenance. It felt good to get 90 miles out of the way before breakfast!
One we got on I-90 we got down to the task of covering distance. Crossing South Dakota is work. It is usually hot, wet, lightningy, sometimes haily, and always windy. Today it was just a windy 73 degrees with fluffly white clouds floating in a deep blue sky. We stopped every 75 miles for either a break, fuel, or both. Other than spending some at a rest stop bantering with church ladies offering cookies and coffee for donations, it was uneventful.
The Sturgis Motorcycle Rally was under way and means finding lodging anywhere within 100 miles of Sturgis was going to be difficult to find and expensive. The problem is that we hit Sturgis at 6pm. It would be too early to stop sooner, and it will be very late to stop later. Thus, we decided to have dinner there then stay in a hotel in Gillette, WY (we made reservations).
Just before Rapid City we got some rain. It was a short burst of medium intensity rain. As most cruiser riders shun protection and dress for the herd they were ill prepared for the rain. Some pulled onto the shoulder to don raingear as soon as any drops fell. Others waited until they were soaked before doing the same. They all crowded under overpasses, which resulted in all traffic slowing down and changing lanes to give them a wide berth. And that's where I saw one of the most dangerous, stupid things I have ever seen.
There were maybe 15 bikes under that specifc overpass, spilling out in front of and behind the covered area. But one idiot had stopped in the lane of traffic. Just stopped. No hazards, nothing. Ok.. maybe he had a lapse of reasoning. He was pulling a trailer, so he wasn't exactly a newbie. There had to be some smart people in the group who could point out just how dumb he is. Maybe someone did and he argued with them... as the semi's few past at 80 mph swerving to avoid him. I hope they all had room to swerve.
We rode on though the rain, wearing motorcycle-appropriate gear that kept us warm, dry and safe.
I had been through Sturgis before but it was cold and wet that year which meant few showed up. It was new for my father and brother. Against better judgement we went to the pirate party. Once downtown it was surprisingly easy to find parking spots. My brother pointed out that his 2000 VFR800 stood out 'like a yellow sportbike at Sturgis'.
We had dinner at the One Eyed Jack saloon and watched (and heard) the crowd. One guy fell off his chair but saved most of his beer. The average age was about 50, most all were men. All dressed alike to show that they are outlaws and not like anyone else in society. Most of women were middle-aged and under-dressed for their condition. There was plenty of eye-candy though... but they were nearly all employed in some capacity, most wore little more than pasties to remain legal. It was fun to see it in full swing, and those in attendance seemed to enjoying themselves immensly as they went in and out of the shops. I wonder if there was a quilting shop there.
The remainder of the day's 100 miles to Gillette was dark, cooler, and tiring. We had a GPS snafu which took us to the wrong side of town where, in a moment of exhausted inattention as we turned around, my dad dropped his bike when he stopped. We helped him up, used my brother's more up to date GPS, and got to our night's final resting place.
It was a 650 mile day, but now we have left the plains behind.
One we got on I-90 we got down to the task of covering distance. Crossing South Dakota is work. It is usually hot, wet, lightningy, sometimes haily, and always windy. Today it was just a windy 73 degrees with fluffly white clouds floating in a deep blue sky. We stopped every 75 miles for either a break, fuel, or both. Other than spending some at a rest stop bantering with church ladies offering cookies and coffee for donations, it was uneventful.
The Sturgis Motorcycle Rally was under way and means finding lodging anywhere within 100 miles of Sturgis was going to be difficult to find and expensive. The problem is that we hit Sturgis at 6pm. It would be too early to stop sooner, and it will be very late to stop later. Thus, we decided to have dinner there then stay in a hotel in Gillette, WY (we made reservations).
Just before Rapid City we got some rain. It was a short burst of medium intensity rain. As most cruiser riders shun protection and dress for the herd they were ill prepared for the rain. Some pulled onto the shoulder to don raingear as soon as any drops fell. Others waited until they were soaked before doing the same. They all crowded under overpasses, which resulted in all traffic slowing down and changing lanes to give them a wide berth. And that's where I saw one of the most dangerous, stupid things I have ever seen.
There were maybe 15 bikes under that specifc overpass, spilling out in front of and behind the covered area. But one idiot had stopped in the lane of traffic. Just stopped. No hazards, nothing. Ok.. maybe he had a lapse of reasoning. He was pulling a trailer, so he wasn't exactly a newbie. There had to be some smart people in the group who could point out just how dumb he is. Maybe someone did and he argued with them... as the semi's few past at 80 mph swerving to avoid him. I hope they all had room to swerve.
We rode on though the rain, wearing motorcycle-appropriate gear that kept us warm, dry and safe.
I had been through Sturgis before but it was cold and wet that year which meant few showed up. It was new for my father and brother. Against better judgement we went to the pirate party. Once downtown it was surprisingly easy to find parking spots. My brother pointed out that his 2000 VFR800 stood out 'like a yellow sportbike at Sturgis'.
We had dinner at the One Eyed Jack saloon and watched (and heard) the crowd. One guy fell off his chair but saved most of his beer. The average age was about 50, most all were men. All dressed alike to show that they are outlaws and not like anyone else in society. Most of women were middle-aged and under-dressed for their condition. There was plenty of eye-candy though... but they were nearly all employed in some capacity, most wore little more than pasties to remain legal. It was fun to see it in full swing, and those in attendance seemed to enjoying themselves immensly as they went in and out of the shops. I wonder if there was a quilting shop there.
The remainder of the day's 100 miles to Gillette was dark, cooler, and tiring. We had a GPS snafu which took us to the wrong side of town where, in a moment of exhausted inattention as we turned around, my dad dropped his bike when he stopped. We helped him up, used my brother's more up to date GPS, and got to our night's final resting place.
It was a 650 mile day, but now we have left the plains behind.
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Monday, August 8, 2011
Back on the road!
we left home and intended to meet to breakfast in faribault but the cafe was closed on mondays. dag nabbit. off to country kitchen we go.... and we ate.... and then it was revealed that one of us had forgotten our passport. since we were close to home we went and got it. ok... 1pm and we were able to leave the metro.
our intent was to stop by little thors house in tracy on the way, but because of the late start, that is where we stopped. eager for a walk we strolled the mile to the caboose for some burgers only to find they were closed on mondays. not hungry for subway and eager to try a new place in town, we walked another mile to thelma and louis who had a hamburger bar. i think it was thelma who served us... about 90 years old. burgers were good, washed down with fat tire and sam adams.
after dinner picked up a case ot fat tire and made our way back to thors little furnitureless house and made a table out of sidecases and shelving and played cards for a few hours before hitting the sack.
sorry about all lower fase... screwey sorry about the lack of puntuation etc... but this weboage doenst allow or
our intent was to stop by little thors house in tracy on the way, but because of the late start, that is where we stopped. eager for a walk we strolled the mile to the caboose for some burgers only to find they were closed on mondays. not hungry for subway and eager to try a new place in town, we walked another mile to thelma and louis who had a hamburger bar. i think it was thelma who served us... about 90 years old. burgers were good, washed down with fat tire and sam adams.
after dinner picked up a case ot fat tire and made our way back to thors little furnitureless house and made a table out of sidecases and shelving and played cards for a few hours before hitting the sack.
sorry about all lower fase... screwey sorry about the lack of puntuation etc... but this weboage doenst allow or
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Big trip coming up....
....tomorrow!
Follow along my blog and the SPOT GPS tracks ("Where's Christian" on the right side of this blog).
There's also a field where you can get my blogs emailed to you, but without photos. On my blog I will add photos which I will take with my phone.
The "real" photos will be taken with my fancy schmancy camera which doesn't have an email connection. I guess you'll have to wait to see those ;-)
If you don't like the advertising, get AdBlock Plus.
It will be nice to have you along!
Follow along my blog and the SPOT GPS tracks ("Where's Christian" on the right side of this blog).
There's also a field where you can get my blogs emailed to you, but without photos. On my blog I will add photos which I will take with my phone.
The "real" photos will be taken with my fancy schmancy camera which doesn't have an email connection. I guess you'll have to wait to see those ;-)
If you don't like the advertising, get AdBlock Plus.
It will be nice to have you along!
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