I sped off on my bike just before 6am, and made good time north on the Super Slab. The weather was already warm enough that I was wearing my full mesh, promising to be a scorcher. Riding the Super Slab was uneventful, and traffic through the Portland area was typically light at this early hour. Again, why am I doing this to myself?
Passing by Troutdale I was joined on the Freeway by a silver SV-650 that looked awful familiar. It took me a few moments before realizing I did know the rider, and that he was probably going the same place I was. Funny coincidence running into Sammy on the same stretch of road at the same time. Once the city fades away the speed of I-84 picks up. We were well into good cruising speed when we came upon a mythical creature.
This unicorn if you will was a Prius driver that goes fast in the left lane. Sammy and I tailed him for a dozen miles before he slowed and exited, a rare creature that drives a hybrid in a way that doesn't obstruct traffic.
Even early in the morning the Gorge winds were already pulsating, reminding up that we are nothing but bugs to be tossed around by the wind. We made great time into The Dalles, fueled up, and went on to the meetup with the Saturday Morning Coffee crew.
The SMC crew meets at a Church turned cafe. They serve an excellent breakfast sandwich, good coffee, and have a space big enough to accommodate a dozen riders for a pre-ride feast. At SMC I discovered that one other rider from my neck of the woods had come up for the weekend, Cutback.
Pictured: not quite all the bikes.
During breakfast we learned that one of the riders had a go-down on their way to SMC. One of the guys, Don Quixote, took off to help him out. Casey was fine, but his newish bike was pretty badly wrecked.
A little later than planned we all finished up our food and coffee and went out to get underway. The cast of characters for today:
Don Quixote - Triumph Tiger. The unofficial leader and ride planner. Mike knows every road.
The Jackal - EDR R1. Dr. Jackal will set the pace.
Flamin' Beans - CBR1000RR. Dr. Jackal's son.
Cutback - ZX6R. Call him old and he'll suck you into a corner that you'll crash out of.
Sam Eye Ham - SV-650. A talented and understated rider. Don't let the bike fool you.
(I Didn't catch his name) - Street Triple. I didn't learn much of this gentleman, but a true professional he was.
Yours Truly - Interceptor
If you ask most any experienced corning enthusiast in Oregon what the best day ride is they'll probably include The Fossil Run in their list. Skilled riders can make The Fossil Run in 11 parsecs. For the Gorge and Multinomah riders The Fossil Run is a thing of legend, a rite of passage, and a religious experience.
The last time I was in The Dalles was June 21, 2015; the day I had my life changing crash at ORP. The last time I had shredded the roads around the Gorge was August, 2014. Obviously my presence at the ritualistic Fossil run was overdue.
Departing SMC it was only a few miles out of town where the real riding started. We flew out Old Dufur road, Five Mile, Eight Mile, a mix of roads I couldn't remember the names of. I was hanging back, the last sport rider tailed by the Triumph riders in sweep. We somehow ended up going around Dufur on some amazing roads that followed some creek or another.
Eventually we found our way to a main highway and traveled south in formation through the Tygh Valley. From there we went out Hwy 216 along the Deschutes river. It was only about 11am but I was already cooking in my mesh gear. Putting along the river seeing all the boat ramps made me want to pull over for a quick swim, but I didn't want to get left behind.
Just past the Deschutes river crossing is a two mile uphill grade with good switchbacks. Don't look over the edge or you might psych yourself out of the great corners the grade has to offer. By the top I'd been left behind a little. The Triumphs behind me were out of sight and Jackal, Cutback, Sam, and Beans were far enough ahead of me that I just assumed that we were going to stay on this highway until we hit another major road.
This section of 216 is prairie, it rises and falls, then there's a turn, then rise and fall. You can go quite fast here, but you shouldn't because you can't see whats beyond the next rise. Unlike ag roads in the Willamette valley, the corners here are clear of debris and you can dig into them and power out. Coming over one of the rises I had a close encounter with a trio of deer, don't outride your ability to dodge or brake.
Eventually I got to Grass Valley and didn't see my friends, I realized I must have missed a turn, knowing generally where I was and where we were going I turned south an proceeded down highway 97 at a "I know there's cops on this road" pace. I then realized that this section was now a 65 zone and the trucks were doing 75 so all bets were off.
Just before Shaniko I discovered my friends and we proceeded onward. At Shaniko we picked up highway 218. Shaniko to Antelope starts out tame, a few 35mph corners, a sweeper, and a straightaway. Then it goes all to hairpins and switchbacks for a mile before dumping you out at Antelope. Just when you're getting into the groove of the switchbacks its over and the real fun begins.
When sport riders talk about The Fossil Run what they're really talking about is the thirty something miles between Antelope and Fossil. Everything else is just icing on the cake, but this is the real meat of the run. Highway 218 follows the contour of rivers, creeks, and hills to make one of the best sport riding roads in Oregon. To make it even better the road surface is good, debris is minimal, traffic is light, and what traffic you do come across often politely lets you pass. The way there I was still getting my confidence back. We had lunch at RJ's in Fossil. I think they probably get a lot of motorcyclist clientele. Our lunch was spent recapping the beauty of the roads we'd been on and Cutback and Jackal ribbing each other about close passes and blown corners.
Of course half the fun of riding Antelope to Fossil is getting to ride Fossil to Antelope. I should point out that it was about 100 degrees and at the highest point in the ride is chilled to a comfortable (for mesh) 90 or so.
My video from that half of the run was better, so I'll share it.
https://youtu.be/2i4TKxqauYE
We regrouped at Antelope. Don Quixote had gone off to explore a Forest Service road, so once we had out lone Triumph back we zipped up to Shaniko, then South on 97.
Jackal had told us about the next destination road. The locals call it "Literbike Alley" for its long straights and sweeping corners. They weren't kidding. It wasn't a few minutes until the race replica bikes in the pack were out of sight. I kept my speed in a sedate misdemeanor range, I don't like to ride at license remover speed on unknown roads. Literbike Alley lived up to its name, and by the time I got to the end and descended the switchbacks into Maupin my mind had that buzz going that I would normally only get from the track where everything is slowed down. Going the speed limit or suggested speed feels much slower than it normally does. Its like Bullet-Time from The Matrix, except I'm on a bike, and I'm not The One.
Maupin is a nice little town on the Deschutes river. During the summer there is a lot of rafting business. Two years ago I went on a raft trip from/through Maupin on the Deschutes, nice place. Riding through it one can see where the outside money is starting to buy up land and put in boring high priced subdivisions. Boo gentrification. Too bad for the people of Maupin, soon they'll be pushed out by the prices.
Riding up out of Maupin has a few cool curves, then it settles into the gentle sweeping curves of Highway 97. We formed up and went non-ticketing speed for this. Good thing we did because we got passed by several LEOs, probably surprised we weren't giving them an excuse to ticket. We cut off onto Eight Mile, or Five Mile, or Dufur road or something. Honestly by this point I wasn't keeping track of what road we turned onto, I was just enjoying the curves. The last leg of our trip took us by the landfill and through the Cherry orchards on the hills of The Dalles before ending at Casa De Jackal.
Pictured: the bikes of Sammy, Jackal, me, Mrs Jackal, Flamin Beans, and Cutback.
We showered, cooled off with popsicles, ice cream bars, and adult beverages, and settled in to watch various video we'd shot. Halfway through the post-ride meeting we watched some Youtube footage of a rider on the Island of Cyprus with a well sorted GSXR1000, a gyrocam, talent, and no fear. After watching that our footage seemed slow, so we watched MotoGP Qualifying.
The next day we were joined by some of the Brat Pack from the central valley for the semi-weekly MotoGP watching. It was a good race, then we all went home. The way back was uneventful. Lots of traffic, very hot.
