Yesterday I went on a group ride with 5 other people I know from work and the pnwriders.com message board. All of us were on sportsbikes.
The plan was to ride Spiral Highway, then Rattlesnake and back.
Spiral was fun. Although I tell myself I won't let others in a group push me beyond my comfort riding level, if I was completely honest I'd admit that I also wanted the others in the group to be impressed by me. I think I may have pushed it a little bit because of this, but not by much. This, to me, is one of the dangers of riding in a group and one of the reasons I prefer to ride alone. I took off first from the top of spiral, partly in hopes of being able to get to a good corner to take some pictures. It only took a few seconds for three of the other riders to pass me. I didn't even see the first one come up behind me. I took most of the curves at 50mph after that, so it was pretty easy going.
The Asotin grade was fun as well. I scraped a peg in one of the final corners, but was still one of the slower riders.
Rattlesnake is where things got interesting. I fell behind on the flat highway before Anatone; my ex500 just couldn't keep up with the others, except for one other which was also an ex500. We met up at the campground near Rattleskale, and I elected to take up the rear (I thought I'd probably be stopping for pictures and didn't want to slow anyone down). After approximately three miles, the bikes in front of me suddenly slowed down. Around the corner I saw that one of the bikes had gone down. It was wedged wheel first into the guard rail, If I hadn't been thinking about making sure everyone was OK, I would have thought to get some pictures. Except for being quite shaken up by the experience and some minor scratches, the rider was fine.
It appears that he may have fixated or took the corner too fast and rode into the rail. All he remembers is flying ahead of his bike. The bike took a pretty bad beating. It's forks were broke, front upper and lower fairing cracked, gas tank punctured, and most things that stick out like blinkers and pedals were snapped off. Past the guard rail was a 200 foot drop – everyone commented that it was a good thing the rail was there.
As we were waiting for a pickup, some guys in the group commented on how many wrecks they had seen and been in. One guy has either seen or been in a wreck on eveery group ride this summer. This is the one that passed me first on Spiral. I've been riding for about two years now, and this is the first wreck I have seen.
I can't help but wonder, if they see and experience so many accidents, why ride so aggressively? Maybe a sense of self-preservation is something that comes with age, or with having a family. I know of some people who would quit riding after seeing one wreck. I certainly cannot give up riding yet, but I have kept my speed in check since seeing the accident yesterday.
I have also been thinking a lot about riding alone versus with a group. I have always been a loaner. At times I wish I could be more social; it's dificult for me to initiate communications, and I often feel akward around others. When it comes to riding, I do enjoy rides with small groups, and have been in one large one that was pretty fun, but I enjoy myself much more when riding alone. I like the freedom of selecting a speed I comfortable with, having my choice of when to stop for whatever reason, and many times what path to take or explore without a specific destination. There is one thing I would change – I'd like Teri to be with me more often on my lonesome rides. I think riding with her would have all the benefits of riding solo, but with the pleasure of sharing the experience with her.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Friday, August 4, 2006
Hells Canyon
On a whim, I asked for Friday and Monday off. I had been building up a lot of comp time and was really getting burned out from work. I've been reading other people's accounts of their motorcycle adventures at places like advriders.com, and have really been wanting to hit the road. I ran across someone's description of their ride to Hell's Canyon, and decided to take it on.
Here is the photo album
I left this afternoon at 1pm. Since my Shadow is down, I brought the ninja. I can't pack nearly as much on the ninja as I can on the shadow, but I managed to get everything I need for four days.
From Moscow, I went into Clarkston via the Spiral Highway. Through Clarkston and up the Asotin Grade, then across the plains to Rattlesnake Summit. I love the road that winds down Rattlesnake to the Grande Ronde river. The road coming back up the other side of the canyon towards Enterprise, OR is great as well.
Along highway 3, I passed Joseph Canyon (I thought it was my first glimpse of Hell's Canyon, but it is too far West). A woman who had also stopped there told me that there were fires near Enterprise. I hoped that the roads were open.
I stopped in Enterprise to fill up (err, have a gas station attendant fill up, this is Oregon don't forget) and buy a map. Past Enterprise is Joseph, named after Chief Old Joseph (as opposed to Chief Young Joseph, his son). This is a neat resort town, and I'd like to come back here to walk around sometime soon.
Just outside of Joseph is the grave site of Chief Joseph. People have placed all sorts of trinkets at the tombstone and hung in the tree next to it. Among McDonald's Happy Meal toys and pennies were some bead and feather crafts and a dreamcatcher. I was led to believe, from the description of the site, that it was an Indian graveyard. The only Native American headstone I could find was Chief Joseph's; the others engraved with European names with a disclaimer that so and so was allowed to be buried here due to their friendship with the Nez Perce.
I noticed campground icons on my map at Lake Wallowa, not far from Joseph. It was getting later in the day so I decided to stop there to camp. The problem with traveling and camping in unfamiliar territory is that you are sometimes forced to take what lodging you can get. The only place I could find was the Lake Wallowa State park campground, where tent sites are $17 per night. I did not want to spend that much to sleep, but was out of options. The campground is very nice and includes KOA style commodities such as general stores and showers. There are a couple of deer, including a buck that wander amond the campers. Some girls were picking something out of a tree and feeding the buck.
So far I've ridden 143 miles, and have been getting around 50 miles per gallon (rough estimate). I roder for about 5 hours today, including quite a few stops for photos.
August 5 2006
I woke up at 7am and took off at 8am this morning. It took me two passes through Joseph to find the road that leads up to the Hell's Canyon Overlook. This road winds through the Hell's Canyon Recreation area in Oregon, is part of the Hell's Canyone Scenic Byway (again, Oregon side), and connects Josphe to highway 86. A few miles up the road, I came acorss a sign that said it was closed past a certain point. This was the low point of the trip, but I decided I'd get as far as I could. I'm glad I did, because the closed road was actually a part I did not need to use (it was closed due to the fires).
My first glimpse of the canyon, peaking through a break in the trees and hills to the East of Canyon Ridge Road, was quite exciting. Shortly after that I arrived at the lookout. From this point, you get a view of just how deep the canyon is. I easily imagine giant prehistoric mammals grazing the massive hills along the top.
I rode down to highway 86 and turned West to fuel up in Halfway. I was able to see the aftermath of the wild fires caused by lightning on this road. The hills were scorched and the few trees that were left standing among the ash were dried and yellow. I passed the firefighter's base camps, scattered with hellicopters, commands posts, and dome tents.
The only gas station I found in Halfway was an older one with a dirt lot. In Oregon, the stationa ttendants control the pumps for you. This morning, the attendent gave me the impression that he was in no mood for me to take my time, so I put my magnetic tank bag on the ground without thhinking carefully so I could fuel up. I misjudged the attendant – he was quite friendly and told me a bit about the fires (he was a volunteer firefighter himself and had first hand experience with it). Once the tank was full, I placed my tank bag on the tank and heard a sickening scratching sound. The magnets had grabbed a bunch of rocks and dirt filled with iron filings, which were now being pressed to and dragged across the paint on my bike. I cleaned up as well as I could – and learned a lesson. Hopefully I can paint the scratches out.
I backtracked along highway 86, and followed it across the Snake River into Idaho. Idaho Power Company maintains a road up to the Hell's Canyon dam. This is a wonderful destination highway, with gorgeous views of the canyon, good pavement, and very little traffic. Each turn brought a more magnificent vista, and it got so that I had to fight the temptation to pull over for pictures because I expected something better to be just around the corner. At the dam, I saw some big horn sheep. Big horn's were reintroduced to the area in the 1990's, and these specimens had tags in their ears and wore radio collars. Something about this cheapened the experience for me a bit – but I'm glad that an effort is being made to repopulate the species. I also saw very large trout swimming at the edge of the river below the dam. I can't help but wonder what the area would look like if man hadn't changed it by building the dams and hunting and fishing the native animals out of the area. Then again, if man hadn't built the dam, I would not have been able to ride here.
The ride out was fun, but HOT. The road is too twisty and you can't predict when a large rock will be in the road around a corner, so I kept my speed down. Both me and the bike were feeling it too. It was nice to hit highway 86 again and head down to highway 71 across Brownlee dam.
Brownlee resorvoir ... neat road, the area look like Idaho. I grew up in Southeast idaho with a lot of lava, sage, and brown grassy hills. The lake of beauty here was actually a good thing, because an SUV with California plates was riding my ass and I needed to concentrate on riding. I let the creep pass me as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and the guy slowed way down. I was riding 10 mph or more slower than before and still had to brake at every corner to keep far enough behind him. At this point I decided to pull over and stretch and lete the SUV move on.
I got gas and water in Cambridge, Idaho. Sitting at a table outside the station was a ~300 pound woman, I'd guess in her 40's or 50's, with a shock of pink dyed hair holding a large can of beer and occasionally reaching for a bottle wrapped in a brown bag under her bench. As I was drinking my water, she asked if was alone. When I told her that I was, she asked if I wanted company.
“On the bike?”
“yeah”
“uhh, I don't think there is room...”
“OK, drive safe” (takes a swig)
I wonder what my excuse would have been if I had a Goldwing.
I also met a couple of biker in Cambridge (who actually passed me up the road while I was stretching). One had a KTM Adventure, the other a Yamaha FJR. The had left Baker, OR that morning and were going to Kooskia, ID. I told them i was familiar with that trip and it was lovely. They asked if I wanted to join them, but I didn't want to slow them down with my picture taking so I declined. Another time, it sounds fun!
I had been riding for about 7 hours at this point and I was sore and tired. I began looking for places to camp, though a part of me wanted to get home as well. I turned off onto a paved road to Seven Devils Recreation Area. This followed a really nice little canyon, if it weren't for the fences. Just like almost everywhere else, fences litter every yard along both sides of the road. The land doesn't even appear to be used for anything either, except to border the very large houses in the distance. I came toa sign that said a campground was 17 miles from here. I began calculating mileage and remaining fuel and decided it might be tight but I should be fine. I got about 10 miles in when the pavement ended. Waste of time, waste of fuel. I was in a bad mood, pissed at the waste tired of seeing beautiful country fenced of for the exclusive use of rich people, tired of buzzing hands...
Back on highway 95, and stopped in Riggins to get some food and a drink. I splurged and bought a piece of pepperoni and some chocolate. This was just what I needed, because my spirits were brought right up and I was once again enjoying my trip (but still thinking a lot about the need for people to fence off every bit of country). It also helped that a teenager boy told me I had a “real seet bike”. His girlfiren asked what kind it was, and I told them it was a Kawasaki Ninja (I left off the 500 part..). The first boy asked if they were as fast as they say they were, and I said problably not this one since it is so loaded down. He said he could see that, but heard that Ninjas were “two steps below a ducati” - whatever that meant. I was just happy to have the attention :)
Everytime I pass Whitebird and go up the grade, I look over at the old highway as it zig zags up the mountain and wonder how it is to ride. This time, I decided to try it. It was great fun until the pavement ended. Another waste of 10 miles. I tunred around and went up the normal grade, and stopped at the rest stop that overlooks Whitebird. With my binoculars, it appears to me that the road is paved all the way to the top, though there are parts I can't see. It was very windy up there, and I thought I heard the wind make a peculiar howl. Then it died down and I relized it was the high pitched howls from coyotees. At the top of the grade, I turned onto old highway 95, which is the top half of what I started eariler. It was paved for as far is I went (it was getting late and I didn't want to waste too much time on whyat I knew would be a dead end). I was also scanning for places to stop and set up camp – but everywhere there were more fences. I'm very irritated at this. Everything has to be owned and shut off from everyone but the owner. There are no tresspassing signs and barbed wire everywhere! As I ride past a pile of Keystone Light cans and brown shattered glass, I see the other side of this coin. If people treat it like this, maybe it's better to shut them out.
All of Northern Idaho and Eastern Oregon is rich with Native American history, and here at Whitebrid is no exception. I've been readin Historical Site boards and thinking a lot about how the Indians were forced into smaller and smaller reservations, forbidden to return to their homelands. These homelands were then fenced off for private use, and the wildlife that lived there hunted to extinction. Sometimes I believe in karma, sometimes I don't. If it exists, then white man is screwed for what they did to the Nez Perce in this area. On the other hand, while I feel bad that it happened I don't feel guilt or like I owe any retribution, as I had nothing to do with it. How's that for taking the easy way out? Well – this is what goes through my mind as I ride.
The rest of my trip was peaceful. I rode, I thought, and I pulled over for some pictures of a sunset. I pulled into my driveway at 10pm.; 14 hours on the road today, and 593 miles after I left yesterday. I saw Hell's Canyon, and rode farther and longer than I thought I could. The ninja held up wonderfully and is a very impressive bike, especially for being an old design. I held up pretty good as well, and hope to be doing another trip soon
Here is the photo album
I left this afternoon at 1pm. Since my Shadow is down, I brought the ninja. I can't pack nearly as much on the ninja as I can on the shadow, but I managed to get everything I need for four days.
From Moscow, I went into Clarkston via the Spiral Highway. Through Clarkston and up the Asotin Grade, then across the plains to Rattlesnake Summit. I love the road that winds down Rattlesnake to the Grande Ronde river. The road coming back up the other side of the canyon towards Enterprise, OR is great as well.
Along highway 3, I passed Joseph Canyon (I thought it was my first glimpse of Hell's Canyon, but it is too far West). A woman who had also stopped there told me that there were fires near Enterprise. I hoped that the roads were open.
I stopped in Enterprise to fill up (err, have a gas station attendant fill up, this is Oregon don't forget) and buy a map. Past Enterprise is Joseph, named after Chief Old Joseph (as opposed to Chief Young Joseph, his son). This is a neat resort town, and I'd like to come back here to walk around sometime soon.
Just outside of Joseph is the grave site of Chief Joseph. People have placed all sorts of trinkets at the tombstone and hung in the tree next to it. Among McDonald's Happy Meal toys and pennies were some bead and feather crafts and a dreamcatcher. I was led to believe, from the description of the site, that it was an Indian graveyard. The only Native American headstone I could find was Chief Joseph's; the others engraved with European names with a disclaimer that so and so was allowed to be buried here due to their friendship with the Nez Perce.
I noticed campground icons on my map at Lake Wallowa, not far from Joseph. It was getting later in the day so I decided to stop there to camp. The problem with traveling and camping in unfamiliar territory is that you are sometimes forced to take what lodging you can get. The only place I could find was the Lake Wallowa State park campground, where tent sites are $17 per night. I did not want to spend that much to sleep, but was out of options. The campground is very nice and includes KOA style commodities such as general stores and showers. There are a couple of deer, including a buck that wander amond the campers. Some girls were picking something out of a tree and feeding the buck.
So far I've ridden 143 miles, and have been getting around 50 miles per gallon (rough estimate). I roder for about 5 hours today, including quite a few stops for photos.
August 5 2006
I woke up at 7am and took off at 8am this morning. It took me two passes through Joseph to find the road that leads up to the Hell's Canyon Overlook. This road winds through the Hell's Canyon Recreation area in Oregon, is part of the Hell's Canyone Scenic Byway (again, Oregon side), and connects Josphe to highway 86. A few miles up the road, I came acorss a sign that said it was closed past a certain point. This was the low point of the trip, but I decided I'd get as far as I could. I'm glad I did, because the closed road was actually a part I did not need to use (it was closed due to the fires).
My first glimpse of the canyon, peaking through a break in the trees and hills to the East of Canyon Ridge Road, was quite exciting. Shortly after that I arrived at the lookout. From this point, you get a view of just how deep the canyon is. I easily imagine giant prehistoric mammals grazing the massive hills along the top.
I rode down to highway 86 and turned West to fuel up in Halfway. I was able to see the aftermath of the wild fires caused by lightning on this road. The hills were scorched and the few trees that were left standing among the ash were dried and yellow. I passed the firefighter's base camps, scattered with hellicopters, commands posts, and dome tents.
The only gas station I found in Halfway was an older one with a dirt lot. In Oregon, the stationa ttendants control the pumps for you. This morning, the attendent gave me the impression that he was in no mood for me to take my time, so I put my magnetic tank bag on the ground without thhinking carefully so I could fuel up. I misjudged the attendant – he was quite friendly and told me a bit about the fires (he was a volunteer firefighter himself and had first hand experience with it). Once the tank was full, I placed my tank bag on the tank and heard a sickening scratching sound. The magnets had grabbed a bunch of rocks and dirt filled with iron filings, which were now being pressed to and dragged across the paint on my bike. I cleaned up as well as I could – and learned a lesson. Hopefully I can paint the scratches out.
I backtracked along highway 86, and followed it across the Snake River into Idaho. Idaho Power Company maintains a road up to the Hell's Canyon dam. This is a wonderful destination highway, with gorgeous views of the canyon, good pavement, and very little traffic. Each turn brought a more magnificent vista, and it got so that I had to fight the temptation to pull over for pictures because I expected something better to be just around the corner. At the dam, I saw some big horn sheep. Big horn's were reintroduced to the area in the 1990's, and these specimens had tags in their ears and wore radio collars. Something about this cheapened the experience for me a bit – but I'm glad that an effort is being made to repopulate the species. I also saw very large trout swimming at the edge of the river below the dam. I can't help but wonder what the area would look like if man hadn't changed it by building the dams and hunting and fishing the native animals out of the area. Then again, if man hadn't built the dam, I would not have been able to ride here.
The ride out was fun, but HOT. The road is too twisty and you can't predict when a large rock will be in the road around a corner, so I kept my speed down. Both me and the bike were feeling it too. It was nice to hit highway 86 again and head down to highway 71 across Brownlee dam.
Brownlee resorvoir ... neat road, the area look like Idaho. I grew up in Southeast idaho with a lot of lava, sage, and brown grassy hills. The lake of beauty here was actually a good thing, because an SUV with California plates was riding my ass and I needed to concentrate on riding. I let the creep pass me as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and the guy slowed way down. I was riding 10 mph or more slower than before and still had to brake at every corner to keep far enough behind him. At this point I decided to pull over and stretch and lete the SUV move on.
I got gas and water in Cambridge, Idaho. Sitting at a table outside the station was a ~300 pound woman, I'd guess in her 40's or 50's, with a shock of pink dyed hair holding a large can of beer and occasionally reaching for a bottle wrapped in a brown bag under her bench. As I was drinking my water, she asked if was alone. When I told her that I was, she asked if I wanted company.
“On the bike?”
“yeah”
“uhh, I don't think there is room...”
“OK, drive safe” (takes a swig)
I wonder what my excuse would have been if I had a Goldwing.
I also met a couple of biker in Cambridge (who actually passed me up the road while I was stretching). One had a KTM Adventure, the other a Yamaha FJR. The had left Baker, OR that morning and were going to Kooskia, ID. I told them i was familiar with that trip and it was lovely. They asked if I wanted to join them, but I didn't want to slow them down with my picture taking so I declined. Another time, it sounds fun!
I had been riding for about 7 hours at this point and I was sore and tired. I began looking for places to camp, though a part of me wanted to get home as well. I turned off onto a paved road to Seven Devils Recreation Area. This followed a really nice little canyon, if it weren't for the fences. Just like almost everywhere else, fences litter every yard along both sides of the road. The land doesn't even appear to be used for anything either, except to border the very large houses in the distance. I came toa sign that said a campground was 17 miles from here. I began calculating mileage and remaining fuel and decided it might be tight but I should be fine. I got about 10 miles in when the pavement ended. Waste of time, waste of fuel. I was in a bad mood, pissed at the waste tired of seeing beautiful country fenced of for the exclusive use of rich people, tired of buzzing hands...
Back on highway 95, and stopped in Riggins to get some food and a drink. I splurged and bought a piece of pepperoni and some chocolate. This was just what I needed, because my spirits were brought right up and I was once again enjoying my trip (but still thinking a lot about the need for people to fence off every bit of country). It also helped that a teenager boy told me I had a “real seet bike”. His girlfiren asked what kind it was, and I told them it was a Kawasaki Ninja (I left off the 500 part..). The first boy asked if they were as fast as they say they were, and I said problably not this one since it is so loaded down. He said he could see that, but heard that Ninjas were “two steps below a ducati” - whatever that meant. I was just happy to have the attention :)
Everytime I pass Whitebird and go up the grade, I look over at the old highway as it zig zags up the mountain and wonder how it is to ride. This time, I decided to try it. It was great fun until the pavement ended. Another waste of 10 miles. I tunred around and went up the normal grade, and stopped at the rest stop that overlooks Whitebird. With my binoculars, it appears to me that the road is paved all the way to the top, though there are parts I can't see. It was very windy up there, and I thought I heard the wind make a peculiar howl. Then it died down and I relized it was the high pitched howls from coyotees. At the top of the grade, I turned onto old highway 95, which is the top half of what I started eariler. It was paved for as far is I went (it was getting late and I didn't want to waste too much time on whyat I knew would be a dead end). I was also scanning for places to stop and set up camp – but everywhere there were more fences. I'm very irritated at this. Everything has to be owned and shut off from everyone but the owner. There are no tresspassing signs and barbed wire everywhere! As I ride past a pile of Keystone Light cans and brown shattered glass, I see the other side of this coin. If people treat it like this, maybe it's better to shut them out.
All of Northern Idaho and Eastern Oregon is rich with Native American history, and here at Whitebrid is no exception. I've been readin Historical Site boards and thinking a lot about how the Indians were forced into smaller and smaller reservations, forbidden to return to their homelands. These homelands were then fenced off for private use, and the wildlife that lived there hunted to extinction. Sometimes I believe in karma, sometimes I don't. If it exists, then white man is screwed for what they did to the Nez Perce in this area. On the other hand, while I feel bad that it happened I don't feel guilt or like I owe any retribution, as I had nothing to do with it. How's that for taking the easy way out? Well – this is what goes through my mind as I ride.
The rest of my trip was peaceful. I rode, I thought, and I pulled over for some pictures of a sunset. I pulled into my driveway at 10pm.; 14 hours on the road today, and 593 miles after I left yesterday. I saw Hell's Canyon, and rode farther and longer than I thought I could. The ninja held up wonderfully and is a very impressive bike, especially for being an old design. I held up pretty good as well, and hope to be doing another trip soon
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