Day 22: West Kelowna

This is the full Spotwalla view of the trip. Each dot represents a 5 minute interval. You can see same view as this but zoom in for more detail by adjusting the settings on the Spotwalla page. 

 

Distance traveled: 408.7 km

Cumulative distance: 6,275.6 km

Maximum speed: 116 kph

Moving average: 76 kph

Temperature range: 7.0 - 19.6

Weight: 152 lbs

It was a brutal day for riding. Not the worst ever but far from the best.

That is my view of the bike first thing this morning and should give you an idea of what kind of day I had. 

Fortunately, I am well prepared for most kinds of weather but I do have good rain gear. As I got ready in the hotel room, as I had anticipated last night, I had warm clothes all laid out: turtle neck shirt, heated jacket liner, rain proof glove covers, tank bag cover, hoodie over my heated jacket, jeans under my riding gear and on top of it all, one piece rain suit.  I also have heated hand grips, thanks to the bike's original owner, which is essential when riding in cold weather. Think about where hands are on a motorcycle: holding the handlebars out to the sides, exposed to nature. Hands would be the first things to fall off if riding in cold weather. Not today though because I couldn't turn the heaters off. They have worked fine for the previous 21 days but today, toggle the switch to "low" and they were getting pretty warm. Toggle to "off" or "high" and they were really hot. Not sure why they picked today to fail; I had replaced the switch days before departure for this trip and it had been good. The only difference today was that the bike sat outside in the rain all night. Generally I throw a cover over the seat at night, which also covers the electronic business on the bike but I had neglected to do it last night because I was just expecting to wear the rain suit upon departure. So I had plenty of heat; I'll have to diagnose it when I get home. Worst case scenario, if the weather broke I could pull the fuse out.

By the time I was actually leaving the hotel, the rain had stopped but the mean streets of Spokane had a lot of accumulated water so when it wasn't raining on me from above, it was raining on me from below as the spray coming up from under the bike and from vehicles ahead of me.

The cloud were heavy and low and saturated. Riding up Hwy 395, the traffic was heavy, making the spray worse. At one time, I passed a parked vehicle on the opposite side of the road and there was a woman, without rain gear, walking away from the vehicle carrying a gas can. I thought was an awful situation and after a kilometre, I found a safe place to turn around. I had well over a half tank of gas and with my pump siphon, I could easily give her enough gas to get to the next gas station. However, by the time I reached her vehicle, she was gone so I presume somebody had already picked her up. 

By the time I got to Kettle Falls, I had to make a decision: to continue on straight north on the busy 395 or turn west on famed motorcycle road Hwy 20. I stopped the bike under a big tree to keep a little rain off and looked at Google Maps to see the difference in time. The Garmin had voted for Hwy 20, maybe from past history whereas Google voted for 395 to save NINE minutes. I thought, what's nine minutes when I could be riding a good motorcycle road and off a busy, boring road. They are both going to be wet so in fact, the difference would probably be more since I would have to go slower on the twisty road.

Hwy 20 climbs over the Sherman Pass. As the road is rising in elevation, the temperature is dropping.

Hard to tell for sure if that is snow.

Then I can see in the hills above the past something in the clouds. Is that white slate - looking rock up there or is it... SNOW?! Snow would be bad because I don't have snow tires. Aside from which, if the temperature is dropping and there is water all over the road, could it turn into ice? I would have to turn around and go back to 395. Not the end of the world, I am retired and have time on my hands... or is it that my days are numbered and I can't waste any? Whatever. The temperature bottoms at 7 degrees at                                                                               

the pass at elevation about 5600 feet. OK so I should

No doubt about it here. This was on the way
down from Sherman Pass.

be fine but I definitely slowed down for a while.

It remained soppy until Tonasket, which is due south of Osoyoos about 35 kms. In fact, there were signs the clouds were breaking. Patches of blue were appearing and though the clouds were still heavy with rain and the sky looked unsettled, it was definitely improving. I stopped in Tonasket to get my last tank of US gas then headed north to cross the border. 

I crossed the border, declared my purchases, didn't get invited to pull out all my stuff, had my Nexus card declined by the border guard in favour of my passport (going into the US, I only had to show my Nexus card), the whole process taking about three minutes max. I pulled ahead to clear the lane but steered to the side so that I get could all my crap in order. When I headed away from the border, lo and behold, my handgrips had turned off! My only guess is that the switch was probably under water and caused a short of sorts. Surprised I didn't blow a fuse but I might try to find a sealed, waterproof switch.

I got home about 4:30 pm, so it was a six hour riding day. Glad to be home, even though the house is empty at the moment.

This was not my furthest traveled on one trip, which surprised me. I looked back to other trips and saw that I was short by 600 km from my furthest trip (the Great American Total Solar Eclipse Squiggle Tour). However, this was my longest one in terms of days on the road by four days. If the weather hadn't turned bad the last few days, I would have been inclined to add two or three days and stuck closer to my originally planned route. However, there is not much glamour in riding in endless rain, particularly if trying to camp. I needed a warm day with wind to dry out my gear; that doesn't seem to be in the cards at the moment and seeing snow so close to where I was riding confirmed that I was making the correct decision. Last year, I was riding and camping in Washington on October 9th.

This trip was a "test trip" for a ride that Nan and I considering for next year, which would take us around North America. I asked her to give me her Top 10 destinations for anywhere in North America and with my Top 10, we will create an itinerary. I had originally planned to start the trip by riding to Mazatlan to see the total solar eclipse however, life got in the way of that idea so we will look to start the trip in mid April, when we see a stretch of good weather in front of us. 

The test was to see what it would be like to travel without an itinerary, with minimal pre-planning and hence, the abandonment of my OCD-ness. For myself, I think I can do it but it will involve discussion with my riding partner, who will be affected by this style of travel. There were days when I was riding at 5:00 or even 6:00 pm and I wasn't entirely sure where I was going to sleep. And there were other days where I thought I knew where I was going to sleep but when I got to where I was going, discovered that not all was as I expected. Like two days ago when there was no signage on the road to indicate the presence of a campground where I was expecting. "You plan. God laughs."

On the other hand, because I didn't have someone to help keep things organized, I had to up my game in terms of keeping myself organized better than I have in the past. I found that my morning could start easier and faster when I organized my next day's clothing the night before. I wasn't trying to impress anybody, it didn't matter when I wore a shirt two days in a row (or anything else for that matter). It wasn't too often that I had to make a change from my plan due to weather being different than I anticipated. 

After i had pulled everything off the bike, I jumped in the hot tub, something I have been craving quite a bit on the trip. I had a gorgeous view of our lake, which was soothing. Everything seems like it will be so easy before the trip but certainly, this trip had its challenges. It is good to be home. 

You are reading this now so thank-you. I really write the blog as my diary of the trip so that I can remember what happened. However, it is fun to write, especially when I encounter interesting people. I post it in the hope that if just a couple of people will find enough entertainment value in it to keep reading, then the effort to post it will have been worthwhile. The technology was at times, challenging however, for the most part I was able to make it work. I still have many photos that I didn't add due to limitations in cell service; I will do that soon so if you want to come back in a few days, I will post a bunch of pictures on an additional "epilogue" page.

The home view.

Day 21: Spokane

 Distance traveled: 450.3 km

Cumulative distance: 5,866.9 km

Maximum speed: 120 kph

Moving average: 76 kph

Temperature range: 9.4 - 20 .4

I had a restless sleep but not because of banjo music.  It rained off and on from about midnight plus, somebody drove through the tiny campground about 4:00 am. Hunters, looking to make an early start is my guess.

On the road before 8:00 a.m. Happy to get good, early starts but packing up when everything is wet looses its appeal pretty quickly.  Getting out of the campground, dodging the enormous potholes filled with water was good. The first hour on the road was the last of the real, twisty riding, I'm guessing. The road followed the John Day River North Fork for quite a way; the best part was that in the bottom of the valley, it was out of the wind. 

Once up on the plains, I had a better look at what was in store for me: while there were rain clouds in

every direction, there would be little patches where blue was trying to break through. Not patches of open sky but just where the clouds were thin enough that they looked... bluish. Still raining on me but never really very hard. This went on for all of the morning. I never bothered to put on my rain suit because it just never seemed like it was warranted any time I stopped to take a picture but I did wear rain gloves because there is just no protection from the wind for hands.

Oregon state has massive wind farms. Not that I counted all the wind mills I saw but I stopped a couple of times and took pictures and at one point, counted over fifty just in my view and I had passed several of these groups of windmills. 

I arrived in Spokane just in time for rush hour with no real plan in place, other than to find a motel and visit a Costco and a motorcycle accessories store called Cycle Gear, which listed products from a company called Gerbing, which makes heated accessories for motorcycling. I immediately ended up on the interstate 90 which goes east. Not a lot of point in doing that so I arbitrarily made an exit and found myself in a Home Depot parking lot where there was a lot of space to park the bike and spend some time on my phone looking up motels. This is where having a little OCD would be good. I always hate getting to a place THEN having to decide which place to choose however, I had envisioned riding into town and seeing a long line of motels and then picking one of those. Then I would check in and go look at the two stores I wanted to visit. However, there was no long line, not even a short line of motels. Nothing at all, in fact. The highway just went straight into town and then there was a choice of interstates. I guess I could have sorted this out at Starbucks in Pendleton, where i had morning coffee,

As always, I agonized over the reviews of the motels. Lots of the reviews listed bed bugs or bad neighbourhood so I eventually opted for one of the big chains. I had hoped to take out my tent and related to dry out but that wasn't going to be possible given my bike wouldn't be parked right in front of my door.  Motorcyclers always like to have motels so their beloved bikes can always be close. 

Amazingly, while in the Home Depot parking lot, I see that I am right beside one of three Cycle Gear stores and a block away from Costco! My original thinking was to check into a motel then dump as much stuff as I could and go ride to these destinations however, I had been getting queasy about that given how busy it was driving around. I was just going to have to hope that nobody messed with my stuff, but I did take my tank bag with me into Costco.

I saw this launch ramp in Spokane and I thought it interesting. I thought it must be for Fireball XL 5 but it is actually, much to my disappointment, what looks like a new interstate route through town. What was interesting is that this elevated section was the same at the other end, so they had built the middle section first and they were working on the road to connect to it.

Day 20: Hwy 395, just outside of Dale, Oregon

Distance traveled: 599.8 km

Cumulative distance: 5,414.6 km

Maximum speed: 125 kph

Moving average: 81 kph

Temperature range: 9.6 – 29.4

With yesterday’s debacle behind me, all I could think about was getting out of the motel room. When I dropped off my key, I commented to the desk person that she should tell housekeeping they need to vacuum the room and mop the bathroom. All she could say is “ok, ok” like she wasn’t surprised. That place was a dump.

I was on the road by 8:00 a.m. with no real plan. I started riding down the highway in the direction I had been going when I arrived the prior day however, after not too long, I saw a road sign that said Scenic Route 138 West. Whaaaat? NOT ENOUGH OCD! Maybe I should have planned that a little better, since I wanted to go north, so I turned the bike around and set a course for Hwy 97, the nearest highway running north-south, which was 48 km away.

Down here, 97 is nothing special. It is just a big, highway with 4 lanes and a divider between the northbound lanes and the southbound lanes. I certainly didn’t want to be riding that. But after going by Crater Lake, I was way off my supposed intended route so I needed to make a decision about where I was going to head for the day. The only good thing is that it has sentimental value to it since it would conceivably take me directly home. But boring.

After about an hour of riding north on 97, I finally found a place that made lattes but

unfortunately, it was a drive-through espresso kiosk. Even thought I was warming up at that point, my feet were cold so I was disappointed not to be sitting indoors somewhere, using their Wi-Fi to upload yesterday’s report. Nonetheless, sitting on the curb outside the drive-through, I was able to establish a course of action. I would ride to the town of John Day in central Oregon, then turn north, in the direction of Spokane.

I had to continue north to Bend, Oregon then turn east along Hwy 128 (?). This route took me through

some very beautiful badlands, reminiscent of southern Alberta. Valleys were carved out of the sedimentary basin revealing layers upon layers of what was former sea floor. I hadn’t bothered to mount the GoPro camera on my helmet because, frankly, I am pretty underwhelmed by the pictures it takes. However, I rode through one rocky valley and I regretted not having the camera ready to go so I turned onto another highway in order to  get it set up with a view to going back and then riding it again, filming the ride. Hopefully, before this trip is concluded I’ll have enough bandwidth to get it uploaded.

I filled up with gas at John Day. I finally managed to break 500 km on one tank of gas. I still had lots more in reserve so I could probably have gone 50-100 km more. While there, I spent a few minutes on Google Maps looking for a campground along Hwy 395. I did identify several, though I underestimated the distance to the first, which turned out to be about 90 km. That is how I ended up with such a big day in mileage. In fact, as I was riding to the campground, there was no sign on the highway to indicate that there were two campgrounds off the highway, the first about 3 km of gravel in and the second probably another 10. Even though I had no cell service, Google Maps still showed my position on the map that I had used to see the route and I saw that I had to turn back to an intersection I had just passed a couple of km back. I only need to get to the first one and when I pulled into it, I was happy to see a single person camping in her car and some good ol’ boys at the far end of the campground with a motorhome and a couple of jeep-style 4x4s. My first thought was “Dueling Banjos.” However, a few of them have said ‘hello’ to me as they have gone by but they seem remarkably well behaved given the circumstances. I did visit with the gal when I had picked a spot and despite the fact that she was quite chatty, she clearly didn’t want any company. As I had gone by her campsite, I had 

some challenge navigating the mud holes in front of her spot, which must have been from a good rain last night, which would not surprise me since it rained a fair amount on me yesterday. I said to her that I half expected to dump the bike in front of her but for a change, that didn’t happen.

As I had been riding towards the campground, I was anticipating a nice, cooked dinner of backpacker’s food however, I saw that unlike other state campgrounds, there were no bear bins. This gave me some discomfort because panniers don’t stop bears, as we learned once. So I abandoned the idea of cooking any food. But one of the good ol’ boys walked by me – he was out bow hunting for deer (he didn’t have an elk tag) and he told me the only sign of bears he had seen around there was some old, dried bear scat so he didn’t seem at all concerned. I relaxed, but still didn’t cook anything, relying on the snacks I had with me.

Day 19: Diamond Lake, just outside of Crater Lake, Oregon

 

Distance traveled: 546.3 km

Cumulative distance: 4,814.8 km

Maximum speed: 125 kph

Moving average: 79 kph

Temperature range: 5.4 – 20.4

All over are these old cinder cones.

Woke up early, so packed early and on the road early. 7:10 am and I was out of Red Bluff. It’s Sunday morning and minimal traffic and the first roads are back roads to get me to Hwy 44, which will lead me north, connect to Hwy 97, The Volcanic Scenic Byway. Ironically, this is the same Hwy 97 that passes by our house by 2 km. We can see it from our balcony. Maybe Mt. Boucherie is part of the same tectonics that caused all the volcanoes down in Oregon. We have all heard about Mt. St. Helens. Same dastardly chain. And there are little cinder cones everywhere.

After an hour of riding, stopped for gas and I was behind another vehicle at the pump so I thought I was obliged to take the one available pump. Turns out, that was not a puddle of water on the ground in front of the pump but oil. I didn’t realize it until I was getting on the bike after filling up and my foot slipped off the peg. I grabbed a large wad of paper towels and wiped off my boots and peg. Fortunately, my bike tires were not smeared with it but I nearly had a mishap getting the bike off the stand and it made me nervous for the first few kilometres. I was happy to have to stop the bike and put on another layer as the temperature was dropping down to single digits. I walked around in the gravel and the grass to try to get a little more friction on the bottom of my boots and I made a point of riding around in the gravel on the side of the road in hopes of getting any oil on the tires off.

I rode till about 11:00 am before stopping in McCloud for breakfast. It was a popular spot but I am sad to say that coffee was not their strong suit. There was actually an espresso shop in the same building but they only served a few baked items and I was looking for something more substantial. I had contemplated not drinking any more coffee at the restaurant and then going to the espresso shop to get a latte but when I wasn’t looking, my coffee cup got filled at the restaurant. Aside from which, two pancakes, two eggs and two house-made sausage patties pretty much precluded me from consuming anything more.

I later rode through the town of Mt. Shasta, on the doorstep of the retired volcano Mt. Shasta. The town reminded me of what I saw in Nevada City: little shops of occult stuff, tarot cards and little restaurants and coffee bars.

The mountain itself is quite dramatic and I rode an extra several kms trying to get a good picture, though frequently, there were obstructions in the way. Usually power lines. I offer you what I have.

I had the distinction of riding through Weed, just north of Mt. Shasta. When I saw road mileage signs for Weed, I wondered if it was some kind of dispensary or... a joke. Well, I get to weed and there are stores selling t-shirts that say "I heart Weed!" But the best thing was seeing a police officer with a car pulled over and the side of the cruiser said "Weed Police". You can't make this stuff up.

Shortly after riding through Mt. Shasta, the winds picked up with a vengeance. At times I would ride in the right hand side of the lane in order to avoid being blown into the oncoming traffic. Along with the wind eventually came rain. Lightly at first and since I basically achieved my target area of Chiloquin mid-afternoon, I thought I may as well just keep riding because I sure wasn’t going to sit around in a campground in this weather. On a lark, I turned off Hwy 97 to ride up to Crater Lake.

Nan and I had driven by it a long time ago. I don’t think we had even been married a year at that point and I thought it would be nice to see it again. In the rain this time. And the wind, as it turned out.

There is actually a little traffic in the park, despite the weather. And notwithstanding, there are actually

some pretty good views. I was riding around the East Rim, which offered some pretty amazing views but again, the winds were horrendous. At one lookout, I stopped and parked the bike to get off and take some pictures. Let me just say after my little mishap last October where the bike tipped over waiting for a ferry, I am always really conscious of the angle of the bike when I park and I will always go out of my way to make sure that the bike is leaning sufficiently on its stand. In this case, it didn’t matter. I took some pictures and when I turned around, I saw the bike laying on its right side. Down again. I cursed. I ran over and tried to grip it but the dry bags prevented me from getting a good grip so I ripped them out of their straps, got a good grip on the pillion’s handle and with my back to the bike, hoisted it upright. With the panniers, top case packed and the tank bag, the bike would be approaching 800 lbs. Nothing like a little adrenalin to give a boost. Because the kickstand was already down I didn’t have to worry about pushing the bike over the other side. Another mirror housing obliterated. But the mirror survived. This time, I had the wherewithal to keep all the housing pieces. I moved the bike to be better positioned against the wind and got off to collect the dry bags and water bottles etc. and DOWN AGAIN. This time, though, the top case is open because I was putting bits of

mirror housing in there so now that stuff is flying all over the place in the wind. The only GOOD thing is that the wind is swirling as opposed to just blowing over the bluff. But I had to pick up the bike again. The second time, it was a little harder. I was worried my feet were going to slip out from under me but fortunately, that did not happen. My “winter” riding gloves, my jacket, bags from the top case, they are flying all over the place and once I got the bike up and moved again, I was running around trying to grab this stuff before it flew over the rock railing and down 1000 feet into the lake. It would have looked comical to an outside observer but it was a humiliating experience. I have heart palpitations just writing this.  If you can believe it, I still stopped for a couple of more pictures but without getting off the bike.

I'll just let you speculate what that is about.
"Always an adventure".

 

Once out of the park, I was looking for gas. I stopped at a little out-of-the-way gas station and the owner was asking me if I was camping. “Not in this weather” (or humiliation), I remarked. He suggested I drive a little further down his side road to the Daimond Lake “Resort” (my emphasis). That’s what it is called. “Resort”. I think it must be a resort for hillbillies. I sincerely apologize to any hillbillies that might be reading this because I mean no offense. The room clearly hasn’t been vacuumed in some time – I did NOT eat popcorn in here, walls are dirty and the doorknob is barely hanging onto the door. As always, I check for bedbugs and even though there is no bedbug mattress cover, there are no signs of the little varmints. Nonetheless, I keep all my clothing in Ziploc-styled bags in order to compress the items and they are staying in the bags tonight zipped tight. On top of the stainless steel pedestal table.

Day 18: Red Bluff

 Distance traveled: 385.8

Cumulative distance: 4,268.5

Maximum speed: 125 kph

Moving average: 69 kph

Temperature range: 15.6 - 31.0

Someone who shall remain nameless but who's name rhymes with "man" said to me today "never a dull moment with you!".

I said goodbye to the sweet little cabin that was my home for the last two nights. And, i was able to get the bike loaded and out without incident. One challenging moment was descending the fairly steep driveway with extra gravel filling in the dip where the driveway meets the road. That was bad enough but the driveway approaches the road in such a way that it is very difficult to see traffic coming down the hill, let alone stopping in the gravel and looking uphill to see what's coming. It was a challenging set of variables.

Oh, GPS settings. I had the Garmin set to "shortest distance". Last night I spent about an hour planning my route home; so far, it has been pretty easy because all i had to do for the first part of the trip was to keep the water on my right. For the next part, all I had to do was point the bike in the direction of the target destination and only one road would lead there. (For the most part.) For this last segment of the trip, I'll need to know mid-points, intersections and highway numbers to keep off the slab.

So, as I am departing Nevada City, I'm expecting to be retracing my steps from Thursday for a while. I'm looking forward to this because I already know where I want to stop for a latte: Gord Downieville. I rode through it the other day and I regretted not stopping for a few pictures and a closer look. But it didn't take long before the terrain was looking unfamiliar. Then the road was getting increasingly twisty as i went further away from urbanization. I'm talking REALLY twisty. And then it is getting steeper downhill. I was heading into the Yuba River valley. And then it is gravel. At first i thought it doesn't look too bad, i could handle a few kilometers of this. The Garmin was set to avoid gravel so maybe this was temporarily gravel or just a short distance. Bumpy, washboard, steep and scary, the further I went. I was picking my way down the road in first gear attempting to avoid the bigger washboard but I did bottom out the centre stand a couple of times.

After what seemed like an eternity, I came to a fairly steep section and there were a number of vehicles

The bridge over the Yuba River and no-go zone.

The road as it approaches the bridge.

My first view of the bridge.

parked at the side of the road and I saw that I had come to the river. I assumed it was people fishing or swimming or something like that. It is Saturday morning after all and doubtless locals know these spots for this stuff. It actually was looking very enticing.

At the bottom, there is a bridge across the river.  I like bridges like this one. Bridges with wooden decks have always appealed to me, unless it is raining. There are also several people around, all carrying white buckets. It turns out that they are volunteers picking up litter in the river valley. In fact, i had seen a number of young people in Nevada

These guys saved me, or laughed at my expense.

City carrying the same buckets and walking along a river there as well.As it happens, two fellows approached me and after greeting me said, "you're not going that way". It was more of a statement than a question. They said that if I thought where i had just come was gnarly, I hadn't seen anything yet. They told me this was not the bike for that route and suggested I go back and go around. They acknowledged that it was the shortest route but said it gets way worse going forward. Then another guy approached me and said "you don't want to run into a meth lab out there and there are a few. And they might think you look like a cop with the camera on your helmet." Well, there is the problem after all: I neglected to tick off  "meth labs" on the Avoidances control on the Garmin. So back I went. 

Yuba River.

It went faster going back than coming down. By the time i reached the highway,  exactly one hour had passed.

I did get to Downieville and since so much time had elapsed, rather than stop for a latte, I stopped and
had a latte AND lunch.  It is a very picturesque town. Population 252. It seems that it is a hub for mountain biking and the restaurant where I had lunch was

connected to the local mountain biking store. There was a steady stream of people coming in and renting mountain bikes for the day. In fact, it was a hub for motorcycles today as there are dozens in town stopped at the various restaurants and bars. It is a busy day being a Saturday and perfect riding weather.

Riding north, I rode through a serious fire burn. I had read online the night before that the biggest fire in California's modern day history had burned through the area in 2021 and had burned all the way up to and past Lassen Volcanic National Park, my dubious  destination for tonight.

Dubious because when I had checked last night, all preservable campsites were booked. I thought it must just be a matter of being a Saturday night and good weather at the end of the season. Anyways, there is a first come-first serve campground in the park, though I was arriving a little late for that. 

I rolled up to the gate about 4:00 pm and good luck already favoured me! Park admission is free today to celebrate "National Parks Day". So i I saved $30 for the privilege of being rejected a camp spot. THAT must be why the park is so busy. It turns out that the first come campground is a two hour trip into the park. That was just too big a risk. There were other campgrounds outside the park but if i was going to visit the vulcanization, I would have to come back the next day. They told me where the next state forest campgrounds were located or I could "disbursement camp" as it was a state forest surrounding the national park. That means just camping wherever. I didn't. 

Once I was rolling, I just kept going, riding another hour where I stopped at Red Bluff Recreation Area, one of the campgrounds suggested to me at Lassen. It is 12 degrees warmer here than Lassen.

I may have traded the bike today, for a G.I. Joe and a Malibu Barbie play set.