The Blogspot platform is user unfriendly, at least with an iPad. So I’m posting on Instagram with identical posts on Facebook. I encourage you to check there. My Instagram handle is rlosquin. I’m on Smugbook at https://www.facebook.com/carlos.quintanilla.10420.
Once the trip is done, I may do a compilation/summary at this site. Thanks for looking!
Friday, May 18, 2018
Sunday, May 6, 2018
Last Minute Changes and a False (?) Start
I awoke earlier than expected. This was a good thing as I’d realized that doing 1/3 of a load of laundry was better than letting it fester in the hamper for six to eight weeks. I also had to build a fort around the door from my garage into my house. To protect it from a free range pissing neighbor dog. I started to type the whole sordid story. How about this? You want more details, let me know in a comment.
At the last minute I brought along a duffel bag. I was proud that I’d fit everything in the cases and tank bag. But there was no spare room. It’s a good thing I added the duffel because when I shed my jacket liner, there would have been no place to put it. Plus it gave me room to bring the Fig Newtons that I shouldn’t have bought so close to leaving town.
About 15 miles into the ride, I realized that I’d forgotten my hydration pack. Because I might need to have water when I visit Mesa Verde. And with the duffel, I now have room. I hope it was worth the extra miles and lost time. But—lost how? Having a very loose schedule and traveling alone allows me to indulge my absent mindedness. My mistake affects no one else. At least not this particular mistake. So I got the hydration pack. Done.
One of my goals in this trip is to avoid riding interstate highways. In the interest of getting out of familiar territory, I rode about 100 miles on I-5. Between Olympia and Vancouver it actually gets pretty. If you can appreciate it while watching out for psychos in lifted four wheel drive trucks. I had originally planned to ride US 12 over White Pass but in the interest of not starting with a very long drive, I opted to take WA 14 through the Columbia River Gorge. It is one of my favorite rides. A combination of eye-popping scenery and curves. I’ve ridden all over the West and the Gorge is hard to beat.
One would think that having traveled tens of thousands of miles on a motorcycle, I would have acquired some helpful habits. Not so! Sure I’ll have a Tillamook cheeseburger and fries at Burgerville. It put me to sleep. But there is a wonderful rest stop on 14, overlooking the Columbia. A great place for a bathroom break (Oh, yeah. Skip the iced tea next time) and a quick snooze. After that I was ready for more.
I turned south onto 197 at The Dalles, OR. This is what I signed up for. Sweeping curves and elevation changes and almost no other traffic. Gorgeous. Perfect. Sorry, no photos.
It’s been a couple of years since I’ve been in Central Oregon. Let’s say there’s been a little growth. Madras has traffic now. Ugh.
And because every trip has to have its moments of surrealism, when I pulled into the Dunes Motel in Bend, I saw that some of my fellow guests were members of a drag troupe. Several young men in heavy makeup but still in t-shirts and shorts, heading out to their performance. Okay, it’s Bend, which in some ways is a sagebrush Portland. If I’d seen this in Madras, that would have been surreal.
Again, sorry. No photos.
At the last minute I brought along a duffel bag. I was proud that I’d fit everything in the cases and tank bag. But there was no spare room. It’s a good thing I added the duffel because when I shed my jacket liner, there would have been no place to put it. Plus it gave me room to bring the Fig Newtons that I shouldn’t have bought so close to leaving town.
About 15 miles into the ride, I realized that I’d forgotten my hydration pack. Because I might need to have water when I visit Mesa Verde. And with the duffel, I now have room. I hope it was worth the extra miles and lost time. But—lost how? Having a very loose schedule and traveling alone allows me to indulge my absent mindedness. My mistake affects no one else. At least not this particular mistake. So I got the hydration pack. Done.
One of my goals in this trip is to avoid riding interstate highways. In the interest of getting out of familiar territory, I rode about 100 miles on I-5. Between Olympia and Vancouver it actually gets pretty. If you can appreciate it while watching out for psychos in lifted four wheel drive trucks. I had originally planned to ride US 12 over White Pass but in the interest of not starting with a very long drive, I opted to take WA 14 through the Columbia River Gorge. It is one of my favorite rides. A combination of eye-popping scenery and curves. I’ve ridden all over the West and the Gorge is hard to beat.
One would think that having traveled tens of thousands of miles on a motorcycle, I would have acquired some helpful habits. Not so! Sure I’ll have a Tillamook cheeseburger and fries at Burgerville. It put me to sleep. But there is a wonderful rest stop on 14, overlooking the Columbia. A great place for a bathroom break (Oh, yeah. Skip the iced tea next time) and a quick snooze. After that I was ready for more.
I turned south onto 197 at The Dalles, OR. This is what I signed up for. Sweeping curves and elevation changes and almost no other traffic. Gorgeous. Perfect. Sorry, no photos.
It’s been a couple of years since I’ve been in Central Oregon. Let’s say there’s been a little growth. Madras has traffic now. Ugh.
And because every trip has to have its moments of surrealism, when I pulled into the Dunes Motel in Bend, I saw that some of my fellow guests were members of a drag troupe. Several young men in heavy makeup but still in t-shirts and shorts, heading out to their performance. Okay, it’s Bend, which in some ways is a sagebrush Portland. If I’d seen this in Madras, that would have been surreal.
Again, sorry. No photos.
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