Bend, Oregon boasts 300+ sunny days per year, but today was one of the other 64 days. Janet said it was over 100 degrees every day before my arrival. Last night the temperature dropped to freezing and then the rain started at around 9:00 this morning. The Gods saved the only day of nasty weather this summer for me…how nice. Frankly, I’d rather bundle up for cold, than deal with oppressive heat. You can always add layers to deal with cold, but you can’t get naked enough to cool down when the temperature is over 100.
I decided to have breakfast and let it warm-up before heading east on the Oregon Trail. I filled-up with gas at noon and throttled my bike onto Hwy 20 in light rain at 48 degrees. The nose of the wet high desert is fresh and earthy with notes of minerals, pine and sage brush. It’s a wonderful essence that offsets the downside of riding in the rain. The first 100 miles was a flat and straight shot and I only saw a few trucks and RV’s, but no cars.
My luck ended at mile 107, when I saw the first car in my rearview mirror. Unfortunately the car was an Oregon State Trooper in a Dodge Hemi with flashing lights. He had been hiding behind a rock and trees on the side of the road, completely invisible until it was too late. I implored him to cut me some slack and give me a warning, but he politely said “nice try, but not today”. Seems to me that setting a hidden speed trap in the middle of no place, is akin to fishing with dynamite, effective, but not very sporting. I can only hope that bad Karma will come to that trooper in the form of a spastic colon and chronic diarrhea.
At mile 150, the rain let up a bit and I stopped to set-up my XM radio. The road changed from flat and straight to twisty and upward along a rushing river through a high canyon of white limestone and red volcanic rocks – truly stunning. It was pretty, but I had to pay close attention to the road because there were high winds and lots of rocks that had fallen onto the wet road surface. The radio played “A Horse with No Name” and I became obsessed with the nonsensical lyric “In the desert, you can’t remeber your name,'cause there ain’t no one for to give you no name”. Who wrote this lyric and why ain’t there no one for to give him no learning?
Far eastern OR is “America's Onion Producer” and it was very windy. I finally crossed over the Snake River into Idaho and the wind abated and there were still lots of onion fields. I stopped at the old Fort Boise and read the plaques about all the trappers and fights with Indians back in the day. Then I headed southeast to Boise which is an area I’m familiar with. I passed by the old Zilog factory that now has a Micron sign out front. I checked into the Roadway Inn near downtown and negotiated the Royal Suite for $58.99 - it’s not elegant, but it’s large, warm and comfortable. I had dinner at Joe’s Crab Shack – Chowder, shrimp Louie and a Sam Adams. Life is good!
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