Day 3
States: 7
Miles: 2056
I had no idea that I had ridden through bug Armageddon the previous night. I had assumed that my inability to see through the windshield was due to the combination of a smoke gray plastic material and the gathering darkness. Maybe the fact that my pants legs resembled fly paper that had been left at the cabin for 20 years should have been a clue, but I guess I was too tired to realize the significance. When I went out to the bike in the morning I discovered several layers of bugs coating the windshield. And the fairing. And the headlights. And every forward-facing part of the bike. It was awesome. I headed to the gas station and washed Herm down as best as I could, giving approximately 37,000 insects a very improper burial. The view through the windshield improved considerably.
Heading out of Pendleton, I wasn't expecting much in the way of scenery, but I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by the interstate highway's version of the Tail of the Dragon. It was a 3,000 foot climb up a grade so steep that it was necessary to design multiple series of 90 degree switchbacks. Signs warning the driver to slow down to 45 mph were to be heeded. And woe be to the unsuspecting driver coming upon a truck creeping up the hill in second gear. Still it was fun - about as much fun as can be had on a bike on an interstate. And the view at the top was magnificent - snow speckled mountains, green meadows, and lots and lots of pine trees. That soon gave way to what I had initially expected, bland Idaho landscape. And antelope. Bikers worry about deer a lot. For good reason. In a battle between a motorcycle and a deer, there usually are no winners. But a deer is to an antelope as Grandpa's Edsel is to a Ferrari. I had been in the area a few years prior on business. As I was driving a rental car to Salt Lake City, an antelope flashed in front of me with such suddenness that in between my declaration of "Oh" and "Crap" he bounded from one side of the road to 200 yards beyond. Plus, while deer generally appear at dawn and dusk, antelope can be present all day long. So I kept busy scanning the road and fields in front of me with great care. Several dead deer could be seen on the side of the road, and interestingly one half of one deer (dead). I preferred not to dwell on that too much. The rest of the trip was spent gazing at clouds and rain showers in the distance, trying to predict whether or not they were present in the area soon to be ridden. I got lucky for the most part. The roads were slightly wet, but dry in the lanes where traffic had created enough friction to provide comfortable traction.
My final fuel stop for the evening took place in Northern Utah. As I shut down all systems at the pump to fuel up and check over the bike, a friendly lady walking out of the convenience shop toward her car asked me if I had gotten wet. I responded that I had not and asked if she had experienced some weather. She said that not only had she experienced some rain, but that she judged the storm to be one of the top ten she had ever experienced. And she was no spring chicken. My curiosity (and trepidation) aroused, I asked where she experienced this. North Dakota, she said. Terrific. Right where I'm heading. She assured me that she thought the storm would move out by the time I got up that way. It was getting late, but it was still light out, so I was hoping to make up some lost time. I was anxious to nab a third state for the day. I had already knocked off Idaho and Utah, and Wyoming was within reach. But about 100 miles down the road I hit rain heavy enough to require breaking out the rain suit. Still, it was easy enough on the road and traffic was sparse enough that I was in no danger. I figured antelope don't like the rain. But when I spotted lightning in the distance, I decided I had gone far enough. I succeeded in reaching Wyoming. Evanston, in fact. It appears to be a popular spot for Harley's to stop. There are at least 8 of them in the lot of the Days Inn. I'm now about four hours behind schedule, but that shouldn't be too hard to make up. Unless the weather doesn't cooperate. The weather report shows 30% chance of severe thunderstorms. Could be interesting.
Unusual things seen on the road today:
States: 7
Miles: 2056
I had no idea that I had ridden through bug Armageddon the previous night. I had assumed that my inability to see through the windshield was due to the combination of a smoke gray plastic material and the gathering darkness. Maybe the fact that my pants legs resembled fly paper that had been left at the cabin for 20 years should have been a clue, but I guess I was too tired to realize the significance. When I went out to the bike in the morning I discovered several layers of bugs coating the windshield. And the fairing. And the headlights. And every forward-facing part of the bike. It was awesome. I headed to the gas station and washed Herm down as best as I could, giving approximately 37,000 insects a very improper burial. The view through the windshield improved considerably.
Heading out of Pendleton, I wasn't expecting much in the way of scenery, but I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by the interstate highway's version of the Tail of the Dragon. It was a 3,000 foot climb up a grade so steep that it was necessary to design multiple series of 90 degree switchbacks. Signs warning the driver to slow down to 45 mph were to be heeded. And woe be to the unsuspecting driver coming upon a truck creeping up the hill in second gear. Still it was fun - about as much fun as can be had on a bike on an interstate. And the view at the top was magnificent - snow speckled mountains, green meadows, and lots and lots of pine trees. That soon gave way to what I had initially expected, bland Idaho landscape. And antelope. Bikers worry about deer a lot. For good reason. In a battle between a motorcycle and a deer, there usually are no winners. But a deer is to an antelope as Grandpa's Edsel is to a Ferrari. I had been in the area a few years prior on business. As I was driving a rental car to Salt Lake City, an antelope flashed in front of me with such suddenness that in between my declaration of "Oh" and "Crap" he bounded from one side of the road to 200 yards beyond. Plus, while deer generally appear at dawn and dusk, antelope can be present all day long. So I kept busy scanning the road and fields in front of me with great care. Several dead deer could be seen on the side of the road, and interestingly one half of one deer (dead). I preferred not to dwell on that too much. The rest of the trip was spent gazing at clouds and rain showers in the distance, trying to predict whether or not they were present in the area soon to be ridden. I got lucky for the most part. The roads were slightly wet, but dry in the lanes where traffic had created enough friction to provide comfortable traction.
My final fuel stop for the evening took place in Northern Utah. As I shut down all systems at the pump to fuel up and check over the bike, a friendly lady walking out of the convenience shop toward her car asked me if I had gotten wet. I responded that I had not and asked if she had experienced some weather. She said that not only had she experienced some rain, but that she judged the storm to be one of the top ten she had ever experienced. And she was no spring chicken. My curiosity (and trepidation) aroused, I asked where she experienced this. North Dakota, she said. Terrific. Right where I'm heading. She assured me that she thought the storm would move out by the time I got up that way. It was getting late, but it was still light out, so I was hoping to make up some lost time. I was anxious to nab a third state for the day. I had already knocked off Idaho and Utah, and Wyoming was within reach. But about 100 miles down the road I hit rain heavy enough to require breaking out the rain suit. Still, it was easy enough on the road and traffic was sparse enough that I was in no danger. I figured antelope don't like the rain. But when I spotted lightning in the distance, I decided I had gone far enough. I succeeded in reaching Wyoming. Evanston, in fact. It appears to be a popular spot for Harley's to stop. There are at least 8 of them in the lot of the Days Inn. I'm now about four hours behind schedule, but that shouldn't be too hard to make up. Unless the weather doesn't cooperate. The weather report shows 30% chance of severe thunderstorms. Could be interesting.
Unusual things seen on the road today:
- A Portland taxi cab. About 400 miles east of Portland
- Half a deer
alors comme çà, journée de chasse?
ReplyDeletedes chevreuils.. des cerfs.. !! ne manquent que les sangliers de chez nous et te voilà projeté sur nos bonnes vieilles routes d'Alsace.. ! lol.
Killer of flies here is the new nickname of " herm "..
The French TV broadcasted us a report on a sandstorm towards phoenix..
The paint of the motorcycle risks not to like!!
Bruno
Great trip so far Ron. Having done this sort of thing I can appreciate it. I keep a notebook in jacket pocket to write things down to jog my memory when I sit down at the end of the day. You see so much in one day it is easy to forget.
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