I was actually up early, had coffee with my mom and the bike packed and ready to go. My intention was to meet Bill in Detroit by 10 and I knew it was about an hour and one half ride there from the Tigard area of Portland, so I was off at 8:29, how’s that for timing?
Riding the freeway is never a pleasure for anyone, but I’d save the road from Clackamas to Breitenbush via National Forest Service route 46 for another trip as I knew it would be a longer route, one that I sadly didn’t have time for. Sigh, and though I was really looking forward to it, there will be there next time! I got to the coffee shop where Bill was waiting at 9:55, not bad for a girl who usually runs late! We had coffee, chatted to catch up after 4 days of individual focus, now we set off single minded…riding!
The roads around this region are really quite scenic and if it weren’t for the giant houses on wheels could be considered perfect riding, but having approached many many of those begins to take its toll on my opinion. I am NOT in a hurry perse, however I dislike my frontal vision completely blocked and my ability to read curves inhibited. Once or twice on a ride is one thing, but many is unacceptable and then I need a break and some time to regroup my thinking. We had a moment to do this at the Sahialie Falls.
Ok, i simply can’t resist this sort of scenic self-portrait!
At Belnap Hot Springs we had a nice lunch and sat outside listening to these guys as they filled the woodsy air with silence.
Then off to McKenzie Pass, a road I was certain I had ridden but had not. Nice find, but sadly filled with tourist traffic. It sucks when you realize you aren’t alone on the perfect road. 😉
Nothing like a fortress of lava…
Great view of the mountains…i believe Sisters, but not sure.
Note actually had no one in front of him and was able to seriously ride the twisties!
For those of you not following the pashnit thread, this is what Note had posted regarding my riding epiphany of the day riding the Aufderheide.
“Riding styles = regressing back to the morning of the Burn ride in Castlegar. Donna and I had ridden from Castlegar to New Denver for a caffine / sticky bun stop and hook up with the Bubba / Alphabet Man team. Donna continually slipped far behind and I commented over her slice of cheesecake that she was slow this morning. Donna acknowledged that she wasn’t quite into the ride and might peel off to head back to hang out with the non-riding women at the lake house.
“What? This is the Burn, girl, the reason for being here and you’ll be riding with some quick gents.” Riding isn’t a question of ‘mood’. As Gurney Hallack said, “Mood is for cattle or making love, not for fighting.” and, I’ll add – not for motorcycling. When we headed out with Bubba and team, Donna quickly lost the ‘mood’, held her own and had an outstanding day with the boyos.Aufderheide was similar with Donna not keeping pace and rather than have her continue in same vein, I let her lead knowing that she’d have to dial it up a few notches or my front tyre would be on her back like a cheap suit.
Sure enough! The lassie responded – using all of her lane, deeper into the corners for better sight lines, pushing harder on the bar, increasing lean angle and using the whole of the tyre surface – resulting in toes on the tarmac and a stream of sparks from the Bandit footpegs. Mood? What’s that?
It took a few more turns for Donna slow down and let the brain register what had happened. I went by slapping my side, killing myself laughing and gave her a big thumbs up. The lassie had cracked one of those invisible barriers and moved up another step.” William Robinson
He basically said it all…I honestly couldn’t believe I had scraped a peg. Wow, now that was some serious decent riding on this awesome roadway, of which I have zero photos! I was merely trying to ride up to expectations…both mine and Bill’s.
We settled into a room in Oakridge and chatted with the manager, a kind fellow originally from India and had a decent Mexican dinner at a local watering hole. Part of the fun when traveling is meeting the locals and Oakridge turned out to be no different. At the end of the evening, I turning out the lights feeling pretty damned pleased with myself and the day!
The following day, we rose, injected coffee and set off for the Forest Service office to firm up our back country route to Roseburg. Riding all the way to Roseburg the evening prior was out of the question and it was a good thing, considering our fate during the day! The FS office assure us that our planned route was all pavement sans a bit o’ dirt for 9 miles…NINE MILES. ya…
The road began with a lovely single track with pull outs and awesome tarmac.
I mean look at this baby…awesome!
Could this be any more scenic or lovely?
Hmmm…not bad for only 9 miles of dirt. Heck, I can handle this…
Bill consults the FS map after we have gone at least 30 miles of dirt. I am feeling like a serious trooper.
The road is beginning to deteriorate, but still do-able…but damn for how much longer??
Now, I understand that many of your are saying why didn’t we turn around?? Well, hell, at this point we were so invested that it seemed nuts to re-ride a road that neither of us had really enjoyed. So best to simply give the rest of it a go! We had met some guys in a 4wheel drive pickup who pulled up to Bill and said, “whoa, you are riding this road on street bikes”. Uh, ya, you noticed. 😉 As the pulled up to me, he said, “be careful ahead, lil’ lady, this road is a bitch. Great, more anticipation. He did tell Bill that we only had about 8 more miles to go before pavement. Ya, sort of like the ONLY 8 miles of dirt…I believe no one at this point.
I think this is where we went wrong…the road took a steep climb into some pretty nasty gravel/rock/dirt. But what was the alternative? Maybe that road going left? Who knows.
But right we traveled and wrong we went. ; )
Bill admiring the view from the top.
Where it all went wrong for a Bandit riding dirt novice.
It happened both quickly and slowly. I approached this steep downhill section, for which the photo doesn’t do justice, very timidly standing on the pegs and the back brake, looking about 4 feet in front of me. Well, without having eyes up and out, I missed Bill who was parked at the bottom telling me to STOP so he could walk me through the best way to descend. Whoops…i slid on a rock that had about a 4 inch drop and clunk…over I went. I just laid on the ground swearing intensely in my helmet, mad only at myself.
Bill had me take a moment, breathe deeply and then we picked up the Bandit. Ah, things weren’t that bad. A broken clutch lever, a broken turn signal (now yet another reason for flush mounts), a scratched bag to match the other one, and a few dings and dents, but nothing earth shattering.
Bill walked the bike over the worst part and we regrouped at the bottom. Another pickup truck pulled up next to us, asking about the road as we were consulting about the road ahead for us. We agreed that what was ahead for them was worse than what was ahead for us. Ok…i’m ready to finish off this dirt shit.
Bill’s account of this event can be read here.
Once we reached the paved road, I wanted to both laugh and cry and drop and kiss the tarmac. What a day. We had spent hours riding pure garbage and the reward was some gained dirt experience. What hell, what more could I ask for. I had ridden a fully loaded street bike over some unbelievably poor road conditions and had only a couple of bruises on both me and the bike for payment. How much better can it get?
We messed with taping up the turn signal and got back on the road after directing yet another vehicle with the FS map of confusion. They too were just as lost as we were, saying the roads they had traveled were not paved either. WTF?
This photo sez it all!
The result of the fall on the rider…
But that and the two broken parts on the bike were the worst of it…nothing special!
Detail of the misleading map and where we ended up.
In Cottage Grove we stopped for lunch and I called Gary, who thought it best I high tail it home. We regrouped and decided to bail on part of the route and hit the interstate to make up for some lost time. We did decide not to pass up Cow Creek Road, and we were both glad we took that route. It was a lovely distraction from the slab..
The road meanders along the creek.
More RR
We attempted to stay in Wolf Creek, at the only hotel, but there were no vacancies, so we continued on to Grants Pass.
We secured a room, though it was fairly late we crossed the street to the local watering hole for an evening of piss-poor wine/ or beer and horrid karaoke where I passed up my chance at fame and free drinks! Oh right, I had free drinks. There was no where open to eat a meal so we called it good after a few beer/wine cocktails and retreated to the peace and quiet of the motel for a bit of picture sorting. It was to be our last night together, as I would split off in the morning and head down I5 taking Hwy3 and the Trinity Alps as my only slab distraction. I figured I’d be home by early evening and was correct.
Hwy3
The reservoir is full this year.
To sum this up as the “best ride ever” would be a bit of a misnomer. It was greater than that, in fact, it was as good as a ride could be, with all the learning curves, the comradarie and the good times had by both Bill and myself. This was a special ride, one that could have only been created by like-minded riders finding one another on pashnit.com.