sunday

I haven't been riding recreationally lately, so I don't have any pictures or interesting anecdotes, but I did finish editing the second film from the last ride. It's now available over at cohovision. There's nothing else new here, so go watch it now.

sunday

ride report - part 2

So the third day (Monday, 9 October) was freakin' sweet.

A quick sixteen mile backtrack on US-97 and it was eastward-ho on SR-126 from Redmond to Prineville and then US-26 east into the Ochoco National Forest. More fast sweepers and small but frequent altitude changes (lots of hills). Since the average ground level around these parts is over 3000', the 4722' of Ochoco Pass and 4372' of Keyes Creek Summit didn't seem like much. (I love fuel injection. It totally kicks ass to not leave big chunks of horsepower behind along with sea level.) The video is next in line for editing.

The thirty miles or so of US-26 between Dayville and John Day (video now in editing) are like moto-heaven. Just-long-enough-to-build-some-momentum straights through the high desert liberally sprinkled with nicely curly canyon sections ("more than 50' from kingpin to axle not recommended") cut into the desert floor. Most groovy. A gas&water in/urine out stop in Mount Vernon (where we got a recipt for our first IBA Saddlesore - 1000 miles in nineteen hours and some minutes - some years ago) and off again. More US-26 (and more traffic than earlier in the day) until we got to Bates and changed over to SR-7 (at over 5000' each it was chilly at Tipton and Larch summits) after Sumpter the road straightens out, but the first part was tasty. All day the weather was approximately perfect (for October). Mostly high sixties and sunny. The fog and rain far behind in the Cascades (video in post-production). Until the road turned north to go into Baker City. Wind. I fucking hate wind. I don't understand why the atmosphere can't just hold the hell still. It kept up on the short (maybe two miles) bit of Interstate and on the first several miles of SR-203. Unfortunately the gusty wind, lots of dirt and gravel drifted in the corners and the occasional (okay, one, but one is several too many) FULL GROWN GODDAM COW IN THE ROAD sort of took the deliciousness out of it for me, just not an environment conducive to sporting velocities. After the first twenty miles or so the conditions improved (the disappearance of the gusting wind - either blocked by the hills or just stopped - was my favorite part) and the fun-ness reappeared. A little side jaunt on SR-237 through Cove (gas in/urine out) and a few minutes ride to the LaGrande BestWestern (the lobby at the Sandman Inn smelled like the YMCA).

Tuesday was for going home, so westward-ho this time (with a liberal helping of north thrown in for the first couple of hours. I-84 to US-395 and across the Columbia at Umatilla. All west after that (see Saturday, 14 October for the middle part of the day) as far as Stonehenge. It's a three-quarter scale replica built by railroad baron Sam Hill as a memorial for local WWI soldiers. Sam's own tomb is there, as well. A simple cube about a meter wide by a meter and a half high. The simplicity of it impresses me, it could have dwarfed the Stonehenge memorial if he'd wanted it to. It's in the lower left of the picture, you can't see it from the henge, which is behind me. Just down the road is the Maryhill Museum, which was Sam & Mary Hill's house. It's packed fulla Rodin sculptures and the like. Even the Queen of Romania's GOLD dress and one of her thrones. The Hills had some important friends. There's also a State Park with the greenest grass for miles and miles.

After a photo frenzy, we parted ways. Thom off down WA SR-14 (which we'd been on since crossing the river) to Portland to visit Doug, and I went up US-97 and home. I managed to arrive just tired enough to sit down, drink about half a bottle of delicious New Belgium 1554 and fall asleep in a chair with my boots on.

And then I had breakfast.

sunday

ride report part 1

So the riding was good, the weather just varied enough to be interesting (a couple hours of pretty meager rain and about 40 minutes of thickish fog, all on the second day), and the traffic light. And just enough inconveniences (all easily solved) to count as an "adventure" (note tiny type).

Saturday was I-90 to the McMahan's house on the pleasantly curvy SR-10 between CleElum and Ellensburg to meet up with Thom, then drop excess gear in Kittitas. Also dropped in Kittitas was Thom's helmet. It turns out that the plastic latches in HJC's Symax aren't quite as robust as the stainless steel ones in my Nolan. Luckily, his Shoei happened to be in Kittitas. No worries, problem solved.
Back on the Interstate (I-82 this time) to Yakima, where we pick up US-97 south (actually, that part of I-82 also is US-97, but its interstate-ness is strong). I like 97, it's a nice combination of fast sweepers, altitude changes both small and large, and a reasonable number of overtaking places. It also goes to WA SR-14. I like that one, too.

The Washington side of the Columbia River Gorge is two lanes, curvy in places, twisty in (a few) places, and (like US-97) has a lot of 18-wheelers on it. It's also got a lot of broken yellow lines, so no biggie.

Blue skies, puffy-bunny clouds and sunshine that made the about 65F feel warm rounded out the day nicely.

Tried to stop in Hood River, OR, the Aspen of windsurfing. There was a HopFest. Normally I don't go in for stuff that ends in "-fest", but there are a few exceptions. Beer is involved with numbers one through six on that list. Unfortunately, that also meant that our lodging options were limited to "expen$ive" and "the parking lot". Fortunately, The Dalles is only nineteen miles down the interstate (I-84, on the Oregon side) and nothing ever happens there. Plenty of rooms.

While still in Hood River, I saw the most remarkable little car. I stood there with my mouth open while it waited for the light, and didn't go for the camera until he started to move. He got away un-photoed.

This isn't the car I saw, but it's really close. I found this picture online in about no seconds flat, and a bunch of other car-trucks, some BMWs, some not. Even a dual-axle Lincolnchero and a ((shudder)) Miatamino. Apparently, making pickups out of passenger cars is quite the boomin' subculture within the CarGuys meta-culture. The crazy stuff people do. Oh, well, back to sitting on top of a 500-pound wheeled engine that will fall over if it's not moving, that makes so much more sense.
Sunday was the damp day, south on OR SR-35 from Hood River. It was damp, intermittently rainy and foggy as hell at the top (between Bennet pass - 4647' and Barlow pass - 4161'), but once onto SR-216 and down to Wapanito pass (3952') the sun made a reappearance and the temperature climbed faster than the altitude fell until it was again a high sixties autumn day. I got some good video of the switchbacks climbing out of the Deschutes river valley above Sherar's bridge. It should appear on cohovision in the next few weeks. In keeping with the Deschutes theme, we rejoined US-97 at Grass Valley and rode south to Bend (home of the Deschutes Brewing Company) for beer and food and sleeping.

I don't want to type anymore. Beer and food and sleeping sounds really good about now... Stay tuned, Monday and Tuesday reports are coming soon.

saturday

!&#%@**#@!

Even the best of rides contains a few bits of not-perfect.
This was no exception.

The mini-mart I had been aiming for had elected in the three years since I stopped there last to stop selling gasoline. Inconvenient, but not insurmountable. If I baby the throttle and practice good momentum-maintenance I can make the next one...just. Probably coasting the last few feet.

I neglected to take into account the fact that the last ten miles or so are uphill. The design geniuses at BMW put the fuel pump in the front of the gas tank. I didn't make it up the hill.
Not the end of the world, Kawasaki provided nearly 50% greater tank volume when they built Thom's Concours. I'll just siphon some of his and raise the level in my tank so the injectors can get at it. What's this, no siphon? Mr. Always-Prepared isn't? How could this happen?
Well, this was going to be a low impact, just ridin' & shootin' pictures kinda trip. Motels obviate the need for the camping gear, the siphon/lightbulb/wire/etc. bag is attached to the cooler. Back at home. Damn. So, off goes Thom to the next gas while I snap some pictures of the aluminum factory across the highway. Impressive, isn't it? Just out of curiosity, I checked...yup, four out of five bars of cell coverage. After all, the Interstate is just on the other side of the river. Radio waves can cross water. Cool. Go technology!It was only about a half an hour until I had two sweet gallons to go the rest of the way up a short hill with. You may rest assured that the siphon bag is now (and will be remaining) on the bike all the time.

Good ridin' and a half-hour break. Nothin' wrong with that.

Watch the video on cohovision.

friday

At last, there will be a pause in the work.
My gear is packed. Time to go ridin'.

And much needed it is, too. September was a tough one.
I took my bike in for a (fairly significant) service. I keep telling myself about the hundreds of dollars in labor I saved by having them do a few other things while the bike was already taken apart, it helps me to sleep. Damn, it was going to be a spendy service call in the first place (after 80,000 miles stuff is wearing out), but, I mean... Daaayyyummm.

The day, the very day I took my bike to the shop my computer puked up its guts and began not being a computer anymore. AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!

Luckily, I had a houseguest who did some time as an IT wage-slave before skipping the country for a six-month orbit of the Pacific (which all four of you good readers know about because there's a link to his blog in the sidebar of this one), and he (Hi Thom! Thanks again!) was able to beat it into submission with a broken beer bottle and this weird little rubber mushroom he got in Japan.

So it's time.
Saturday morning (I may sleep in my Aerostitch and helmet just to save time) as soon as I'm conscious enough to operate a motor vehicle (read: after 2 cups of black coffee - Peruvian this week, those Peruvians really know their stimulants) I'm out of here. Meet Thom by the side of the road outside of Ellensburg and then right outta cell range as fast as (legally - Hi Mom!) possible.

Watch here for words soon and over at cohovision for the movie in a week or two.