Snowbird December 2020

For the month of November and first week of December I was employed on a contract job. Unfortunately it was just a short term thing and also unfortunately it was mostly remote and by the end of it I was bouncing off the walls again. After all my endless map searching for the perfect or at least good route through the Southwest I decided to leave.

In previous posts I've mentioned about negative inertia and how hard it is to break free of being stuck at home during this pandemic depression, so I feel I must point out that my special lady and my dad had a role in motivating me to get out and take this trip.

After much deliberation the plan was to trailer my bike to Bakersfield area and then ride Death Valley, Monument Valley, and whatever else in the AZ/NV/UT area I run across.

Day 1: Lebanon, OR to Willows, CA. I spent Saturday preparing and Sunday I loaded up and made it as far as Willows. Usually I'd be going to the happiest place on Earth (ThunderHill Raceway Park) but this time I was staying in the second noisiest Motel 6 on the west coast. But at least they had the yule log channel and I pretended to have a fireplace.

Day 2: Willows, CA to Weedpatch (Bakersfield), CA. Weedpatch to Lake Isabella (40 miles). Favorite road Hwy 178. The start of my ride! I checked my car into a storage facility and unloaded my bike. My destination for the night was just forty miles away but it was a pretty canyon run with good curves. Unfortunately the traffic made it less than perfect but it was a good start. Just outside of Bakersfield the highway runs through Orange groves and the smell of the city gives way to citrus and high desert.

Lake Isabella Motel is run by a nice oriental lady who has a score of red tabby cats.

Part of this trip was about escaping the gloom of the pandemic and I started to escape it by eating my dinner in the back yard of a bar. Its not quite "dine in", but close.

Day 3: Lake Isabella to Death Valley, out and back on CA-190 past Panamint Springs, to Badwater Basin to Shoshone to Pahrump NV, to Mt Charleston, to Las Vegas 450 miles. Favorite road: CA-190 past Panamint.

The first part of the ride was just making up miles in the desert. Past Lake Isabella and NAS China Lake is pretty flat and boring.

Eventually the road going through the mountains and into Searles Valley where the "Death Valley" vibes start. The Searles area smells like sulfur and half of the buildings in town are boarded up and decaying. After all there's no reason to be in the Searles valley unless 1. you work for the mineral company 2. you support people working for the mineral company or 3. you're on your way into Death Valley.

But I digress, the beauty of the desert is evident in all directions. At one stop I got to watch F-18s from NAS China Lake maneuvering and saw one flying at low altitude over the road.

There are some really fun twisty sections going through the mountains and then dropping into the valley. Thanks to my Butler map I knew that once I got to Panamint Springs I could do an out and back on CA-190 to the Northwestern edge of the park and back, which is probably the coolest road I was on that day.

Next was to go through Badwater Basin and oo and ah over the below sea level desert with all the other tourists.

The rest of DV was pretty but pretty much the same.

I was glad to reach Shoshone and head towards Pahrump NV. My initial plan was to stay in Pahrump but I got there about 3pm. It was too early to stop for the day so I powered North through the emptiness then back South and East past Creech AFB (I got to see a Predator drone landing) and on to Mt Charleston.

Mt Charleston is one of those "I saw it on a map and its a squiggly line so I'm going to ride it" things. Once I got on the access road I realized maybe my ambition was outweighing my talent. Road 156 ascends up the side of the mountain more or less straight for miles at 6-10% grade. It was already sunset and I was on the opposite side of the mountain from the sun and temperatures were dropping as I powered up the mountain. As an aside I have to congratulate the Interceptor because I was in sixth gear most of the climb going 80. 

At the mountain viewpoint around 8000 feet I took some terrible photos that don't do the sheer altitude justice.

I descended as fast as reasonable because it was darn cold up there. Apparently there's a mountain resort community up there as well as a ski area. Who'd have known?

The road dropped into the valley and I made my way into Las Vegas. Without a real plan I got more than a little lost before checking into a just off strip casino hotel. On entry the security guard checked my temperature with a FLIR thermal camera (overkill?). All the staff were masked up but I was able to dine-in Dinner and Breakfast there, so that's a win!

Day 4: Las Vegas to St George UT to Colorado City to Fredonia to Marble Canyon to Page to Kayenta AZ. 405 Miles. Favorite Road: 89A Fredonia to Jacob Lake to Marble Canyon to Bitter Springs.

After breakfast I slabbed out I-15 into Utah. Things started to get scenic past Hurricane (where I had dine-in lunch!). After Fredonia AZ I got a speeding ticket from an AZHP officer who wasn't wearing a mask. Seriously though why the eff was there a cop out there? 89A is so deserted. Anyways 89A up the mountain is where normally you'd turn to access the North Rim of the Grand Canyon which was already closed for the year.

This area is not without its scenic views.

This is the Colorado river upstream of "The Grand Canyon". So I guess that makes this deep canyon the "Slightly Less Grand Canyon".

It was getting late and I needed to make time to Kayenta. I cruised through Page AZ, home of the famous Horseshoe Bend which is open and the famous Antelope Canyon which is closed, and out through more middle of nowhere. The temperature was dropping fast as it got dark and I ran my heated gear on high the last ninety miles into Kayenta.

The Navajo reservation has an 8pm-5am curfew so all the restaurants close at 7. The restaurants also don't have lobby service so I froze my tail off walking through the drive through then back to my hotel room to eat.

Day 5: Kayenta Az to Monument Valley to Kayenta to Page to Fredonia to St. George. 325 Miles

Monument Valley was supposed to be one of the check boxes on this trip. In the morning is was low-30s and snow flurries were in the forecast. I loaded up and departed my hotel. One depressing thing about Kayenta and Navajo land was just how many PSA signs and billboards there were advising against substance abuse and domestic abuse. At the hotel there were signs advising not to give money to panhandlers and while at a scenic view pull out from the highway a truck filled with Navajo men stopped to ask for money.

Once in Monument Valley I tried to go out Monument Valley BLVD to get close to the Sentinel and Mitten mesas and ran into a roadblock. Wait, didn't we already do this in Washington several months ago?

Literally there is nothing out this road besides a closed visitor center and a few viewpoints, why close it? If I really wanted to spread a disease which I don't have why not stop at any of the houses along the way or cough on people in the grocery store in Kayenta?

Anyways I took my scenic photos from the main highway and it started snowing on me.

After seeing this area and witnessing how cold it gets I really appreciate how tough the Navajo used to be. Now they are panhandlers and drunks that have to be told not to beat their family. The reservations are mostly 1960s looking cookie cutter government built buildings that are falling apart and pre-fab homes that are falling apart and surrounded by dead vehicles and trailers.

I wasn't alone in Monument Valley, there was a fairly steady stream of Sprinter van RVs and other obvious tourists (and a few adv bikes) going in and out of the valley. My observation about Monument Valley is that the mesas aren't unique, its just this is the most well known of them because of films like Forrest Gump or National Lampoons Vacation. Having ridden through the Marble Canyon area and then seeing Monument drove that home. The experience was anti climactic perhaps due to the famous viewpoint being closed and the cold weather.

With the Monument Valley checkbox checked and with the foul weather moving in I set out. I took a different route back west because the high mountain route past Jacobs Lake had gotten snowed on just after I went through. I rode back to St George and spent the night with an old friend.

I have to give credit to Southern Utah as a whole. For the several hundred miles I spent in Utah I can say it was clean. The properties I could see from the highway were well maintained without the dozens of storage containers, dead cars, and dead travel trailers common to rural properties in CA, NV, and AZ. Even the city of Hurricane and St George were cleaner feeling than most cities I've been in.

Day 6: St George to Valley of Fire State Park NV to Hoover Dam to Kingman AZ to Seligman AZ. 312 Miles. Favorite Road NV 167 through Valley of Fire State Park.

Out of SGU I slabbed it into Nevada and followed signs for the Valley of Fire State Park. The fun road starts after two cities worth of 25mph speed limits and stop signs. Once in the park the pavement is good, the roads are twisty, and at least when I was there the traffic was minimal. What traffic there was indicated the pattern of people getting out of restrictive western states (CA, OR, WA) and heading out to camp in the middle of the desert.

This rock is supposed to look like a face screaming in agony about being a rock.

After Valley of Fire I hit Hoover Dam for the obligatory stop.

One of the doors was polished so well I had to take a selfie.

There was a Zodiac sculpture along with the other art-deco stuff. I'm a Gemini.

After hoover I slabbed it to Kingman where I'd initially planned to stop for the night. But since it was still early (and Kingman just felt sketchy) I pushed on RT-66 to Seligman. The old 66 was kind of a neat ride through different terrain with minimal traffic. Every ten miles or so there's a decaying abandoned gas station or roadside motel. In another season I'd like to go through here and go to the Grand Canyon Caverns or some of the other attractions. There's also another reservation complete with manned roadblocks. Makes me wonder how much it costs the tribe to rent the guard booth and roadblock stuff and man them for the marginal benefit of stopping curious or lost tourists.

At the end I found Seligman, checked into one of the roadside motels that's still operating and ate at the Roadkill Café.

I bet the lady working at the motel had a giggle about putting Tim in the room that Timmy once slept in.

Day 7: Seligman AZ to Ash Fork to Prescott to Wilhoit to Skull Valley to Iron Springs to Jerome to Cottonwood to Camp Verde to Hwy 260/87 to Winslow AZ. 282 Miles. Favorite road: 260/87 between Camp Verde and Winslow. Honorable Mention: 89A from Prescott to Jerome and Iron Springs Road through Skull Valley.

I left Seligman after a hearty breakfast at Roadkill. My route was uneventful and mostly nice scenery down until the sprawl of Prescott. South of Prescott the road goes up and through the mountains which would be just great if the speed limit wasn't 35 and the cars were going 25. After the mountain twisties I cut off through Kirkland valley and Skull valley where the road was less busy. This road was curvy and runs along hilltops for miles but before long I ended up back in Prescott.

Outside of Prescott to the east is the road to Jerome. This is a super twisty road which would probably be better mid week. Hitting it on a Saturday with a million Californians on it was no fun. The road winds down into Jerome which is an old mining town built on the side of a steep mountain. Go look up the photos of Jerome on Google Maps, the architecture of the town is neat. Its also super touristy and every other car parked in Jerome had a California plate. Lots of refugees getting out to the Free State of Arizona and away from the pandemic gloom of their own state.

After Jerome its more spread out city for a while until the road climbs into the mountains again. This section of 260/87 between Camp Verde and Winslow is lots of fun and sparsely traveled. Its also very high elevation and there was snow beside the road.

After the mountain on the open plain the wind gusts picked up to the point where it was hard to maintain a straight line. The last twenty miles into Winslow were uneventful straight line where it was hard to not go license remover speed.

In Winslow I checked into a cheap motel, which was surprisingly nice inside, and went out in search of the famous street corner from the Eagles song. This was mostly just for the sake of my dad living vicariously through me because I don't personally care for the Eagles that much.

It was cold and windy in Winslow and probably a third of the buildings/houses along the main drag are deserted and boarded up. Near the famous corner is the touristy stuff and I forgot to buy a RT66 sticker for my side cases. I found a pub that was open and had a good dinner and some great beers. While eating dinner the weather snowed, sideways. At least it didn't snow that much.

I looked at the forecast and again questioned if my plan, or lack thereof, had gotten me into a bad situation.

Day 8: Winslow to Flagstaff to Glendale/Phoenix to Quartzsite AZ. 326 Miles

In the morning the weather was clear and in the low teens. I walked to the local circle K for coffee and any bit of exposed skin I had protested mightily. My dad asked how I was doing since he saw the weather forecast, and I commented that our Prudhoe Bay adventure in 2019 had prepared me mentally for riding in this kind of weather.

With my heated gear on high I set off on the slab. I planned to have beers with a friend in Phoenix and after the previous night's storm most of the interesting roads at high elevation might have been sketchy. My bike doesn't care how cold it is or apparently how high. The VFR performed just fine on the high altitude freeway to Flagstaff and then south.

I made great time and arrived in Phoenix/Glendale mid afternoon. I'll say this for being unemployed and taking trips, at least I've seen people that I wouldn't have seen otherwise. The ride west from Phoenix was uneventful and the weather was warm. Near Tonopah the air took on a bad sewage smell, as if someone was evaporating a sewage treatment pond. I noticed a sign for the Palo Verde Generating Station and being a former nukie I decided to look it up later. Turns out PVGS uses treatment water as part of its cooling, so my estimation of the smell was accurate.

In Quartzsite I got checked into my motel and explored local culture. Its pretty much just another desert town that caters to travelers. Its also a stopping point for societies' refugees on the way to/from Slab City.

Day 9: Quartzsite AZ to Joshua Tree NP to Lucerne Valley to Barstow to Weedpatch.359 miles. Trailer to Santa Nella 180 Miles. Favorite road: through Joshua Tree NP.

In the morning I took a brief walk in the desert to see some cacti up close and discovered why they call it Quartzsite. The stuff is all over the place.

After coffee and a Danish at the truck stop I hit the interstate. I stopped for fuel at a place called "Chiriaco Summit" and discovered a General Patton museum complete with an outdoor tank and military vehicle exhibit. It appeared closed so I continued on and into Joshua Tree National Park.

The southern half of the park was great riding. The northern half had a lot of traffic.

There's some scenic and interesting rock formations on the north side of the park but as time was wasting and the parking areas were full I pressed on past the park and onward.

At the intersection of TwentyNine Palms, Victorville, Big Bear, and Barstow there's a place called Lucerne Valley. Its part of rural California you'd never know existed unless you traveled it. There's a café there that is unashamed to display flags for their presidential candidate and bumper stickers advising to neuter the current California Governor. My kind of place since I'm all for flushing the current Oregon Governor. But I digress, the food was good and I got to talk to some of the locals in the outdoor seating area. There's a bunch of rally cars and what I'd call "redneck art cars" in the parking lot of the café along with a stage that I can imagine has hosted many classic rock bands over the years.

Into the Mojave desert the wind started picking up and the temperature dropped into the low 40s. Near Tehachapi I gave in and put on my heated gear for the last hour or so into Weedpatch. At the storage place I loaded up my bike and called a motel to reserve a room.

In Santa Nella there were dozens of feral cats, and they took an interest in my bike and car.

Day 10: Santa Nella to Eagle Point 479 miles

The run up the freeway was uneventful and boring. Fortunately I made it through the pass before the latest storms arrived. I stayed with my parents and said hi to their cats.

Day 11: Eagle Point to Lebanon 216 miles

I got home mid afternoon and started unloading/cleaning my stuff. Total mileage on the bike:2532. Total mileage on the car: 1610. The weather mostly cooperated with my trip although to ride more of Northern Arizona and or Southern Utah I'd say October/November would work better. The concept of trailering down and starting from California works and I might do it again. There's a lot more to Arizona and Utah to explore. For that matter if the Governor of California hadn't decreed more state of emergency crap while I was down there I might have stayed and ran around the mountains east of San Diego.

There's always something for next time.

Red Bike Swap, Feeling Stuck in Oregon

 Last weekend I loaded up the Ducati and dragged it north for the 9k mile service. Its gonna be a doozy because of the other stuff I need them to do like replace a foot peg bracket and the damned brake pedal sensor, but that's Ducati life for you. While I was up there I picked up my VFR finally. We'd been unable to get a new OEM fuel pump because everywhere that says they have them is lying and its indefinitely backordered due to the pandemic. I'm guessing also that big H never considered the thought that maybe a sport touring bike might ever NEED a fuel pump replaced, but given the condition of my original fuel filter, I'd suspect a clogged filter lead to the downfall of the pump.

For that matter why don't they make the filter easier to replace on a bike that people might ride long distances on and have to occasionally fill up from sketchy-ass gas stations? But I digress. I brought my VFR home and waited for my new winter gear, then took it for a few rides. The power loss problem is gone and I think the other things I'm feeling is just getting used to the bike again after spending 8k miles and 3 months on the Ducati.

Riding until sunset isn't as neat when the sun sets before 5pm.

Unfortunately/fortunately I'm working a contract job so that stops me from taking my latest fantasy trip down to where its still warm. My idea was to trailer the bike down to near Bakersfield and then ride out into Death Valley and on East to Arizona. Or maybe just avoid the snowy mountains by riding down the coast. Either way its all fantasy until I am free again and actually take that first step out the door.

Check out this fuel filter:

Autumn '20

It's hard to want to write an update when I'm not doing much of anything. Since the time change and the change of the season it's been tough to want to do anything period. At the beginning of the month I started a one-month contract doing sysadmin work for a company in Texas. At the beginning of the month I also crash tested my Scorpion Yosemite gear. I've been riding a LOT this year and simply got overconfident. I tried to take a corner on cold tires at a warm-tires pace and low sided. 

My 4-season gear is burned through everywhere I slid, so its done. My body is fine though, so my gear did its job.

New gear is on its way, I waffled about what to get and decided on Alpinestar's sport touring/waterproof gear. I couldn't justify dropping $900 on Klim.

The Ducati is due for the 9000 mile service so it's going North to MotoCorsa.

At least I got a good wash/wax/picture in before I dropped her off.

The VFR is still waiting. I heard from my mechanic that the OEM fuel pump is indefinitely backordered. The choice is find a used one on eBay or use a third party rebuild kit so we're gonna try the rebuild kit.

As I sit in my living room/home office watching the clouds move my mind keeps wandering to the romantic idea of taking that long trip I keep talking about. Now that its cold and wet I can't go east or north, and the Sierra Nevada mountains of California are too high/too cold. That leaves the coastal ranges and the southern desert. One crazy idea I had was to trailer my bike down to warmer weather, store my car/trailer somewhere, and then ride out through Death Valley and further south-east. Of course all that is just fantasy as the Western States Governors are ordering new lockdown measures and its debatable whether they'll be lifted by the time I'm done with the contract I'm working in early December.

This time of year is tough for me anyways. With the new pandemic restrictions and really no end in sight for things getting back to normal I don't have anything to look forward to. Last winter I was looking forward to among other things racing, trackdays, trips to watch MotoAmerica, and even (gasp) non motorcycle related things. This winter I have no idea when I'll have stable employment again, no company is expanding their IT department during the lockdown. I don't have any trust that the government will open things back up again. I can't even go to the pub with friends and complain about it.

Turning of the Season

 

Over Labor day weekend Western Oregon got hit with a hot dry wind storm. The resulting fires destroyed several small towns and polluted the air horribly. Last night a once in fifteen year thunderstorm moved through dumping rain, lighting up the sky for hours, and knocking over trees. Because of the storm debris and leftover moisture coming down I had to move an end-of-summer ride a day later.

I've had a couple good interviews with two different companies. With the weather signaling the end of summer and my "sabbatical" coming to a close, I suppose its time to look to the future.

In college anthropology we talked about the concept of a transition ceremony or rite of passage. Growing up there's the rites of passage that mark manhood, womanhood, adulthood. After college there's the passage that is supposed to cement your place in society from student into producer. I suppose I expected that in taking some kind of trip during my sabbatical I would feel like I had passed a new rite into another season of my life. Its not that I haven't gotten in any trips this year, its just that I never got in one that I could say was transformational. I've been too stuck in my rut sitting at home looking at job websites for jobs that aren't there. 

Most autumns I think about doing some kind of weekender on the bike. Most autumns I'm also employed. So far in my time off I haven't gotten in the grand tour that I planned, and due to circumstances maybe I never will. I keep saying to myself if I have a job offer and a definite start date I'll just hop on my bike and be gone until a day before that. This week I replaced the tires and the brake pads, so the bike is ready to go at a moment's notice.

I'm good at not having a plan, I'm bad at getting started out the door.

Eastern Oregon Run September 2020

Planning for the NorCal run with The Dalles SMC crew started last winter. Through the spring and the Pandemic the dates got shifted and moved several times until the Comedy of Errors that is 2020 simply made the original run impossible. One of the gentlemen in the group out of sheer stubbornness said, and I paraphrase, "Lets just run out Eastern Oregon, nothing ever bad happens there".

Just like in a Greek play The Fates saw fit to try to punish us for our Hubris. The pandemic and government closing motels and restaurants, job loss, and bikes breaking down weren't enough to stop us so they released Fire Gremlins from the depths of Hades to burn down all of Western Oregon. After bouncing off the walls in my HEPA filtered house for a few days I stubbornly made the call that I was going to go on the run. My town wasn't in the evac zone, and the last highway out to Central Oregon was still open.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not insensitive to the suffering that's happened this year, especially in my own state. Its simply a matter of I recognize that sitting at home stressing about the fires and other things out of my control do nobody any good.

On the day to head out I had a phone interview and then packed up. My fellow adventurous soul Danielle met me in the dense smoke of Lebanon ("they" rated the air quality at "beyond unhealthy") and we left. It was eerie riding out the mountain highway without the usual summer traffic. But lighter traffic is what we sport riders love, so we enjoyed it despite the burning in our noses and pain in our lungs. Air quality started getting better as we cleared the cascade range. One of the oddest things about the dense smoke is just how much it cooled things off, like a nuclear winter effect.

Along one lonely highway in Central Oregon there's a tree with hundreds of bras hanging in it. Nobody seems to remember what started the Bra Tree, or why, its just there as a monument to women. Naturally we had to stop and take cliche pictures for social media.

Now that we were in the "fast" part of Central Oregon we made fantastic time to Summer Lake and checked into the Lodge. We had dinner with the other riders that had braved the events of 2020 to be there, swapped stories, discussed how we had gotten our road names, had drinks, and retired.

In attendance:

The Jackal - R1

Flamin Beans - Africa Twin

The Senator - R6

Double D - Street Triple

Don Quixote - GSXF 1000

Three Finger Jim - Flying Brick BMW boxer

JoLo - Drove his freakin Subaru instead of riding

LazyEye - Ducati SuperSport

Night Shot of the pond next to our cabin. You can see the haze coming east over the mountains.

By morning the smoke from the cascades and south-central fires had caught up with us. Several of the riders had to head home for other obligations (Jackal, Senator, JoLo) so only five of us proceeded on route east.

Just outside of Summer Lake the temperature dropped ten degrees and the smoke from the Paisley fire blotted out the sun. Once again I was questioning my choice to wear mesh gear. The forecast had called for sunny/hot conditions and here I was in chilly darkness. We were lucky to get past Paisley before they started evacuating it. By Lakeview we were in the sun again and had a few minutes to kill sitting in construction traffic.

At Lakeview Danielle had to make a minor repair to her bike (bolts come loose) at the local hardware store. While there one of the store workers came out and talked bikes, and showed us his 2020 Hayabusa. Small world when you're a bike guy.

After Lakeview I set the pace through the mountains. This was getting into the fast section. Danielle and I stopped for lunch in Adel while everyone else got a little ahead. The Adel general store had many examples of top notch taxidermy on display.

Past Adel is the emptiness of Nevada and South Eastern Oregon. It was also the last chance to see blue sky before the smoke caught up to us that night.

Out there in the empty quarter I made several personal land speed record attempts to see what the Ducati Supersport can do. I'm pleased to say it will go all the way to redline in sixth gear although doing so with a tank bag means I can't tuck behind the tiny windscreen and I get a lot of helmet shake.

We caught up to the group in Fields, Oregon. Our group stayed in the multi-bedroom ranch house. I like Fields, its quiet. The Fields Station closes at 6 so if you arrive running on empty and expect gas, you're out of luck. Don Quixote shared the schadenfreude feeling of watching out of town people panicking realizing that there isn't a gas station that's open in either direction for 80+ miles and that the motel rooms are all booked. Over night the smoke caught up with us and we awoke to haze and gloom.

Fields Station serves a very nice breakfast which is more than I can eat. If I was a proper working person like a ranch worker or some such it would be the cornerstone of a long day of work, but alas I'm just a scrawny motorcycle rider.

Just over the hill from Fields the temperature started dropping and we made a very quick and chilly run into Burns for fuel and regroup. We stopped again at Seneca to discuss routes. ODOT had done a lot of shoddy work in this area and the chip seal was still shedding chips and slick feeling. This is the kind of thing where you get hit with rock chips from the riders/vehicles in front of you, the whole while feeling like you're losing grip.

Three Finger Jim stayed on the main roads while we went east on a Forest Service road. The FS road was more interesting than main highway although the pavement was bumpy and gravelly at times. I had a few butt puckering moments but overall NF16/62 was a nice alternative to main highway.

We went as far east as Unity to get fuel then doubled back to Hereford/Hwy 245/Dooley Mountain. I should note that a few places out in true-rural areas have gas pumps that are "on your honor". Fill up, then go into the general store to pay.

We stopped for a break before heading up the mountain. While stopped we saw a Triumph rider that we later found out was from a rally that was staying in Baker. Dooley mountain is a fun twisty road that's "ruined" by too much gravel in the corners. Oh well. Still had fun and didn't crash.

The classic cars and idiots with loud exhausts were cruising main street in Baker as we had dinner. Beans, Double D, and myself went to a fancy restaurant for desert afterwards and to bring some class to the joint. "no I don't have a reservation, yes I'm wearing athletic clothes and my hair is uncombed.".

In the morning it was COLD. Between the smoke and the normal Eastern Oregon overnight low, we decided to hang out for a bit before leaving. In the interim I talked to one of our motel neighbors who had evacuated from the Holiday Farm fire. Although her family's house still stood, everything else was gone and she didn't expect to be able to go back. With that reminder of what lay ahead we set off.

Most of the group had gone different directions from Baker. Double D and I backtracked to Highway 26, and then up into the Fossil area. The farther west we got the worse the smoke got.

At Prairie City my bike rolled over 5000 miles. Considering I bought it a month ago with 1100 on it that's a milestone. I texted my dad about it and he said to stop riding it because it was depreciating.

Near Fossil we saw the Triumph rally again as they headed North. We headed west on 218.

They chip sealed 218 this year and the pavement is not good. Still the Fossil run is fun.

Once on 97 the fun kind of ends for a while although with the dense smoke there was lighter traffic which was nice. In the mountains heading home the temperature again dropped badly.

Once we broke free of the last of the traffic our run down the hill and into Sweet Home was fast and uneventful. I was shivering by the time I got home. My gear and bike are covered in ash, dust, road grime, and bugs.

Total mileage for the trip: 1109