DAY NINE - or "Dang, that's a lot of apples!"

Saturday, 25 October 2008.

My intent today was to reach Sumas, Washington by the end the ride. A geocaching event was going on and three of my friends from the caching forums would be there waiting for me. No choice now - gotta drop the hammer and get moving.

Leaving from Butte, the weather was cold but clear. It got colder as I climbed the Continental Divide toward Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. The drive was beautiful again today, with a lot of twisting and climbing, even on the major highway that is I-90. Because of my time limits and great distance to cover (almost 700 miles), I only stopped once for pictures on this side. I figured you folks have seen enough mountain shots for this trip. I took this picture because of the interesting rock sticking out of the side of the mountain (it's several stories tall), and because of the bright yellow trees. They look coniferous, but I thought conifers were also called "evergreens" for a reason. I'm going to have to look into why certain strips of these trees had turned bright yellow.

After crossing the pass and heading down the western slopes of the mountains, the temperature improved by at least ten or fifteen degrees as I decended into Idaho. By the time I had passed through Coeur d'Alene, I had seen dozens of motorcyclists (granted that it was a weekend, but I hadn't seen another bike since leaving Butte until that point) and several folks were driving convertibles with the top down. I stopped for gas and got back on the road. With the weather improving, so was my mood and I was ready to put down some miles.

Washington state seems very flat and a little barren after leaving the crags and forests of western Montana. Still, it is a beautiful change and made for some easy riding that allows the mind to wander (a little - it IS still a motorcycle, after all). The Cascades still lay between me and my destination, but they were not going to be as challenging nor as tall as the Rockies by any means. I did stop to take one picture on my way through the central part of the state. It shows how flat most of the area is, and it also shows another interest of mine - railroading. A local railroad museum was just starting their collection and this early 1900's boxcar was their roadside attention-getter. It's in great shape for being over a century old.

I had turned off I-90 after passing through Spokane, choosing to take the more direct route of state highway 2. The ten-mile stretch of mountain road from Waterville to Orondo was another great ride on a gently twisting highway. The picture shows a house overlooking Lincoln Rock Lake, I believe. If it had a few trees around it, it would be my perfect retirement home. As the road dropped into the Wenatchee River valley after Orondo, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I knew that Washington state was famous for apples. I just didn't realize that they all came from this one valley. Row after row after orchard after orchard of mostly bare apple trees. One roadside stand that I drove past advertised over 100 different varieties of apples. (On a side note - who the heck does he plan to sell those to? Everyone else in the entire valley owns a dozen apple trees of their own, apparently mandated by city ordnance or something). I called Ed, one of the cachers, and asked him how far I had to go. I was apparently still more than three hours out, and it was already 5 o'clock. Looks like it's going to be a long one.

I only made one other stop between Wenatchee and Sumas, just to take a picture. I passed through the very sureal town of Leavenworth just as I was entering the Cascade range. The entire town, including the fast food joints and hardware store, are all done up like a German alpine village. With the snowy crags as a backdrop, it felt for all the world like I had fallen into southern Germany. As it was a Saturday evening, there were hundreds of tourists around checking out all the little shops. I pulled off long enough to get a picture and then moved on. Dark was coming on quickly and I still needed to get out of these mountains. I actually wound up crossing the last rise (Steven's pass) just at dusk. It was above the snow line and the temps were in the 30s, so I spent about half an hour worrying that the patches of melted snow on the road had refrozen into black ice. If I slid to the edge, I would have plenty of time to contemplate my screw up before I hit the bottom.

I was slowed down significantly when I got to the coastal side. It turns out that highway 2 becomes a local road for several miles before meeting up with I-5. It took me half an hour to cover the last 10 or 15 miles. Finally, around 9 o'clock, I arrived in the border town of Sumas. Even though the two who lived out of town still had a hundred miles to drive that night, they patiently waited for me to get there. As I had not eaten all day, we met at Bob's Burgers and Beer. Despite the cheesy name, it was a great lodge-type restaurant and bar with excellent sourdough burgers and HOT chocolate that takes the edge off the cold. The others sat and watched me eat and we talked for about an hour before the restaurant closed. Everyone walked out with me to check out the bike, then we loaded up and drove back to Tee's apartment (she's the cacher who lives in town). The guys headed home andI wound up crashing on Tee's couch for the night as I was exhausted from riding 687 miles and crossing both the Rockies and the Cascades. I am now over 3060 miles into this trip, and these meetings with friends are still the highlight of my trip.

DAY EIGHT - or "On the road again..."

Friday, 24 October 2008.

Last day of training. This has been a really good time, but it's time to hit the road. Of course, the bike has 11,000 miles on it and I didn't get the 5,000 mile maintenance done so I definitely needed to get the 10,000 mile checkup. Luckily, the local Harley dealership is just a couple of blocks from the hotel. The printing company has a deal with the local cab company, so I got a free ride back when I dropped the bike off over lunch. When I told the guy what I needed, he immediately went to the back of the bike with a tread gauge. Turns out that the rear tires are only rated for about 8000 miles, and I only had 2/16" of tread left, so it was time to change the rear tire. Ouch. That was some funding I wasn't ready to spend. It beats sliding off the side of a mountain on a wet patch, though.

After the last class, I caught a ride back to the dealership (Teton Harley Davidson in Idaho Falls http://www.tetonhd.com/) and got ready to head out. I love that part of the maintenance package is washing and drying the bike. They had 2000 miles of bug guts to get off that wind screen. Better them than me! My original goal was to reach Missoula, Montana, by night fall. I did not leave the Harley dealer until almost 4:30, though, so that was out of the question. I decided just to hustle as far as I could as fast as I could (stopping for the occasional photo op) and just stop when it got dark.

My first stop was just over the state line of Idaho in Montana, just past the continental divide. It was SERIOUSLY cold by that point. Every guy in the gas station wore a huge cowboy hat and boots. They all looked at me like I might suddenly rob the place or burst into flames or something. I don't know if that was due to the abundance of black leather or the fact that I was riding a motorcycle in sub-40 degree weather. Didn't matter. The till-jockey was a good guy who asked me which way I was headed and gave me some good advice on how far I could get before dark and where to watch out for deer. He was right about the deer. I saw several herds just a few miles up the road where the highway crossed over a river and had one run across the road ahead of me at the next town where he told me to watch out. It really is always good to talk to the locals and not be a jerk at the gas station. It could save your life.

I saw a large red fox on the side of the road not long after the deer ran across. Then I saw something just as rare - another biker headed in the opposite direction. I hope I don't look like Nanook of the North as bad as he did, but I probably do. Of course I waved back as we passed. Bikers most always wave like that just because of the lifestyle choice of owning a bike. But when you see another guy as dumb as you out riding in the cold, you definitely share something profound (and a little frightening).

As the sun was going down it played gorgeous colors onto the clouds. My daughter loves colorful sunsets, so I pulled over once more to take some pictures of it before finishing the ride. I finally reached Butte, Montana, just after the sun went down and got a room. It had been a short ride and had been cold again, but it was a gorgeous day and there were great views with at least a couple more wildlife encounters. I got some sorely needed maintenance done on the bike, and I rode 238 miles and wound up with 2372 miles on the clock for this trip so far.