Part IX – “There Ain’t No Cure”

Burns was the perfect place to spend the night. It provided the opportunity for us to start fresh and experience another fabulous day of riding in Eastern Oregon.

Oregon is fast becoming one of my favourite riding states. The terrain is so varied, from sandy beaches to coastal rain forest, farmland, desert, alpine meadows and wetlands; there is always something new just around the corner. The roads are in good condition, the traffic is not overly heavy, except around the Portland area and you often have the road to yourself.

Now that brings me to something I’ve wanted to discuss for some time and that is the “Bug”. What is the Bug? Well you’ll know it if you have it. The Bug is the road and the beast you feed. You can always tell the people that have the Bug. They seldom speak in destinations but speak in terms of the road. For instance a Bug bitten individual doesn’t say, “Oh, I’m riding to Calgary.” And leave it at that. What you’ll hear is, “I’m going to take Hwy 3 to such and such and then it’s Hwy 6 to 6A then cut south on County Road 40”. To them it’s the road that matters and the destination is merely a stopping off point along the way where the route will change again. I’ve had the Bug since I was a kid and I can’t see it going away.

My motorcycle friends have all been bitten, Pete and Allen both have it, as does Norm and Mike. You can tell by the way they talk about their rides; always the road, rarely the destination. Another friend Don has it really bad, having just come back from a two week ride into Southern California, I never knew where he actually went in terms of towns but he could tell you every highway and side road him and his GS touched.

The Bug is with you for life I’m afraid, it’s not something you can quit and simply walk away from. You can quit smoking, drinking whatever, because in comparison these are mere dalliances that tempt the body and you can overcome them, however; the bug of the road is in your soul and it ain’t never gonna go away. Face it you’re a slave to the movement, the feel, the smell and the sound of the road. A truly infected rider spends their spare time poring over atlases and, hopefully, reading motorcycle blogs. You’ll see these people tracing their fingers along obscure squiggly lines on maps looking for that hidden gem they have yet to ride. This, my friends is true passion. Pure and simple passion for the ride. You may get better, but you’ll never get well!

 

 Hwy 395 Eastern Oregon

Feeling rather passionate we leave Burns behind and continue north along Hwy 395 another Oregon gem of a road. Right outside of town you enter Divine Canyon and the road chicanes into a narrow ravine like snake that twists its way through fairly dense trees that crowd inwards and encroach onto the shoulder of the road. The twisties come fast and you’re in and out of them in seconds. Coming into the next one, gear down, don’t touch the brake, keep the throttle constant and begin accelerating at the apex of the turn, keep twisting bringing the speed up and then get ready to upshift when you come roaring out and enter the next straightaway. Now get ready there’s another turn coming up; you know the routine; repeat as necessary.

 

A little more 395. What an absolute joy!

A quick stretch for coffee and a cinnamon bun in Canyon City and we’re out of there. It’s more rolling and twisting all the way to Pendleton where it’s decision time. We’re fighting the clock a little as we’d like to be home for a few days before going back to...ugh..work. ..ugh.. and we’d like to spend some quality time in the Cascades so we opt for the quick way to Wenatchee where we’ll stay the night and that will give us the time we need for Hwy 20 the next day. Bite the bullet, hop on the Inter-Slab and eat up a few miles. The GPS plots a quickie route to Wenatchee using the ‘slab’ and some county roads. In a blink we’re into Washington passing Kennewick, skirting Richland and shooting off onto WA 240 to 243 through Desert Aire, then I-90 to WA 281 taking us north to Quincy. The entire route has been cutting through orchard after orchard, throw in a fierce cross-head wind and we were eating dust the entire way. It’s eight PM and we’re pulling into Wenatchee, tired, hungry, and sunburnt and feeling fantastic after the effort we made today. It’s all about teamwork and Lori and I are one heck of a team. No matter what the situation is we work well together supporting each other and bringing out the best in each other.

 

Just a tad south of Pendleton Oregon

Wenatchee. Wenatchee. Wenatchee. Every time I’ve been there it’s been a hassle. I usually arrive later in the day, angry at the beating the ever present gale force winds have laid on me, there’s always some event going on and the hotels are full with the restaurants closing early. There’s always something and today was no exception. I’d programed a hotel into the GPS, one where I’d get some loyalty points and of course they’re full as are the rest of the inns in town. The gal at the counter says, she thinks there may be a room or two left downtown at the Coast Hotel. Not wishing to drive willy-nilly all over town looking for a room, I hit the phone and give then a call and Eureka(!) we score a room. We scoot back downtown, check in and head across the street to Bob’s Classic Brass and Brew. Good call on Bob’s where we gorge out on some Caesar Salad, Chicken Alfredo, a pop for me and a couple of frosty Buds for Lori.

Back to the room and we’re done for the day; trashed and ready for the rack. The network service sucks but it doesn’t matter because I’m too tired to blog so it’s lights out. See you in the morning.

Steve
Wenatchee, WA
6/25/14