a blog about motorbikes, bicycles, and the folks who ride them.
Keeping the posts updated on the road proved to be a challenge. Until I have a chance to go back and place images in the context of the posts, you can see a sampler of photos I took with an iPhone on Flickr:
When Darth and Obi-Ben return to civilization, we’ll upload some of their shots and video.
Around 6 PM on Friday, I rolled into Hines, Oregon and found a room at a new Best Western. I met a couple from British Columbia on a big Honda touring bike. They had been all over Utah, Nevada, and Oregon, and were heading back to Canada after 10 or so days on the road. We ate at the same cafe that night, the Apple Peddler, and traded stories. Al Brooks is a motorcycle cop in the Delta, B.C. area of Canada, and a motorcycle instructor as well, so he knew his stuff. Al and I talked for awhile about bikes, the roads and dirt roads in the northwest, and about how motorcyclists are never alone out there. Safe travels, Al and Glenda!
Dessert and coffee at The Apple Peddler.
This morning at Crater Lake Lodge, we awoke to The Shining. Our bikes were covered with some of that 500 plus annual snowfall they get up there. It was decided that no amount of haste in checking out would make the descent off the mountain road any drier, so we opted for hot coffee in the Great Hall and a full breakfast. Let me tell you, you can’t go wrong with Crater Lake Eggs Bennie. Suiting up was grim and our bags were lighter because if it was wearable, had holes and a zipper, we put it on. At the bottom of the access road was where our routes diverged. Darth and Obi-Ben were heading coastal, and Moto was in for a solo ride East. After a few high fives, like three spacemen after planting flags on the moon, I pointed it east to Bend, and the Brothers Rafferty sought out the next leg of the Trans-America Trail.
All three bikes started up, no problem. The riders had a tough time.
After slabbing it from Adel to Crater Lake to try to make up some time, we decided we should detour and spend a night at Crater Lake National Park. Crater Lake is the deepest lake in the United States at 1,943 feet deep, and the seventh deepest lake in the world. The body of water is a caldera (volcanic basin), has no inlets or outlets, and is filled by 500 plus inches of snow a year. We paid our entrance fees to the National Park Service, then climbed the switchback road to Crater Lake Lodge, which is perched on the rim at about 7800 feet. We parked our bikes in the circle, next to a 10 foot snow bank. Woolfree, the nice bellman from the Dominican Republic (the “DR”) told us this was only the lodge’s second night of the season. We would find they were still working out all the kinks. The front desk could not pull up Darth’s reservation, even though he had a confirmation number from a call earlier in the day. They were able to get us a split level loft room, with plenty of space to stretch out. Then while getting our gear to the room, the power in the whole building went out. Good time to take a nap before our 8:00 PM dinner reservation. The lodge is operated by a company called XanTerra, which has a big fat contract to run this and other grand old national parks lodges. The building itself is grandiose, with a spacious great room with a stone fireplace (with a lame gas burner instead of logs), but comfortable chairs and couches you can just melt into, especially after sitting upright on an enduro bike all day. Due to the power outage, they offered an improvised menu which turned out to be ok, all things considered. The power went back on while we were finishing up coffee and dessert, just in time to turn in for the night. We stayed up for awhile looking at all the photos and video trapped on our respective digital devices, reviewing the good times, small victories, and reminders of the little challenges we have had along the road and trail. Good way to end the night.
Crater Lake, from the deck of the Crater Lake Lodge just before dinner.
After leaving Denio Junction, we hit the dirt in the Sheldon Wildlife Refuge. We passed numerous Opal mines, not many people out on route 8a. We settled in at the Gooch Springs campground and set up our tents in a bit of a squall. By dark, we had a raging sage brush fueled campfire, some beer, and some red beans and rice. We listened to packs of coyotes calling across the valley to each other. When we awoke, there was snow on the ground and ominous dark skies above. We packed up in haste and started a frigid death march across the Nevada/Oregon border. Coming into the town of Adel, the crosswinds blew me from the righthand side of the road all the way to the left. Fortunately, the Adel Country Store was open, with a fire raging in the wood stove, and a friendly sleepy eyed dog named Bush curled up in front of it. My hands were so cold, I couldn’t get my gloves off for a good ten minutes. We just sat there not saying anything for awhile. The proprietor, a woman named Marcie, gave us hot coffee and made us bacon and eggs. I don’t know what we would have done had it been Tuesday. The store is closed on Tuesdays. Sent from my iPhone.
Not sure what we would have done without this place.
Obi-Ben, messing with his phone.
Just threw down lunch at Denio Junction , just a few miles from the Oregon border. Met a rancher in the cafe who gave us some advice on what roads to take. He gave us yet another viewpoint on how the rising fuel costs are killing rural America, particularly tough on the cattlmen. Basically, thanks to GW’s brilliant ethanol subsidy, there’s no freaking corn to feed the cows. He and his wife had their cows at a local pasture and they had come to check in on them. They were from Oregon but had to come over to Nevada to find pasture because it is so hard to find these days. After some massive burgers and shakes, it was time to roll. Darth bought a can of Chunky Stew, allegedly to be his dinner for later that night. After he and Obi-Ben are done hammering out the dents from his aluminum Touratech pannier box after his digger in the mountains, we get on the bikes and go. Sent from my iPhone.
Another bar/gas station/grill/grocery store/post office/motel in Nevada.
We rolled into Paradise Valley and the little hamlet of Paradise for a quick rest. Little did we know that Paradise would be a shangri-la to wait out a major wind storm. We threw down some lunch at the Paradise Saloon (best cheeseburgers in all of Nevada so far). Our plan was to saddle up and ride over Hinkey Pass. At the 7820 feet elevation summit, Obi-Ben and Moto caught a glimpse of a lion on a distant ridgetop. Unmistakable, lurking low to the ground near a big boulder. When Obi-Ben got his scope out, it had vanished. What was in front of us was an impassable stretch of snow. We scouted it out, but the downslope of the pass was all north facing. What really turned us around was a fast moving
squall that chased us back down into Paradise. We returned to the saloon and met many townsfolk trickling in for spaghetti night. We met Steve Lucas, a friendly and generous man with a big cowboy hat who bought our dinner. Besides running the local feedlot, Steve runs a B&B 10 miles out of town called the Stonehouse. He also owns a little house in town called the Adobe House, which is where we stayed. The Adobe was a fully furnished house with beds, a loft, a coffee maker, and satellite TV so we could see the final performances on American Idol. There was also a .38 Special CD in the stereo, so we rocked that out the next morning. Stay tuned for more about our stay at the Adobe, our thoughts on Cook versus Archuleta, and the prospects of getting into the ranching business.
Sent from my iPhone
Designated Pace Car for the opening segment to Baker, NV, I reported home to
Cottonwood Heights, late Sunday afternoon after logging 504 mostly all-dirt
road trip miles in about 28 hours.
The boys are in high spirits, suffering a few challenges yet recovering with
grace each step of the way. We have about 20 new best friends from our
overnight experience in Baker, and will report more soon.
The challenge will be, due to the remoteness of this amazing route, getting
internet or cell phone coverage for posting images and text. The boys will
figure out how to get ‘er done, though… they are all tech-savvy, highly
driven mostly upright mammals.
Me, I will post some more thoughts about awesome Day 1 after a night or two
of distilling. Or distilleries.
mb
All is well after two days and lots of dirt. The small issue I was having with the KTM not starting ended up being a non-issue. When we rolled out of SLC on Saturday, we stopped at The Edge Motorsports in Draper, Utah. Cody the technician took one look at my clutch lever and offered an explanation: I had replaced a bent clutch lever with an aftermarket lever and the aftermarket lever wasn’t engaging a small switch in the clutch assembly. In a nutshell: it starts every time as long as it’s in neutral. No worries.
After the first day, we landed in Baker, Nevada, at the Silver Jack Inn (which will warrant a longer post later). Hooked up with an old friend from Park City, Mike, on a tour on his Moto Guzzi.
Second day was scheduled to be an all dirt route from Baker to Eureka. Before getting rolling, we all rode to the top and back of the paved road into Great Basin National Park, a twisty climp up to the summit of 10,000 feet. After gassing up back in Baker, Hans Solo split off from the group and took his own path back to SLC. Darth, Obi-Ben and Moto did about 240 miles in the dirt, saw some ghost towns, an amazing sunset, then rolled in to the Best Western at 9:00 PM local time. No cell phone service the whole trip, so no road posts. Today’s route takes us to Battle Mountain, Nevada, where we expect to have cell.
All is good.
Spent much of the day today getting gear sorted. Made two small repairs to the KTM 640 Adventure:
1. Adjusted steering bearing. First I had to lift the bike up on a crate to get the front wheel elevated. Then had to loosen five bolts on the upper double clamp of the fork, then adjust a tightening nut (very much like the process on a mountain bike!), then check for play, then finally tighten everything back up to spec.
2. Replace bent clutch lever. This was a little dicey, as the KTM dealer didn’t have an OEM prelacement lever in stock when I was there, but had one “they thought would work.” So precise, these guys at motorcycle shops. It fit just fine, and it seems to eliminate the leak of mineral oil from the seal on my clutch master cylinder.
Now for the bad news. Rode the bike into Park City to run some errands and make sure everything was running tops. Came out from the post office and when I saddled up and pressed the starter, nothing. Definitely electrical. Called Bartman, he said try to get it rolling down Swede Alley and pop start it by letting the clutch out while in gear. Nothing. I scurried off into a parking lot and tried to kick start it. Nothing. Called Bartman again to bail me out with his trailer. While waiting a few minutes, I tried the ignition button again just for the hell of it and it started right up. When I got it home, I turned it off in the driveway, then tried to start with the button and got denied again. A few hours later, I cycled it on and off and it started every time.
You can imagine this is putting a serious damper on my enthusiasm to depart on a 10-day slog westward, through some remote road and trail on the way to Oregon. Bartman says definitely don’t go unless you know what the problem is. Darth Nater says what’s the worst that can happen? He always says that.