In 2005, Karl, Ron Phil and I took a trip on motorcycles around the state of Oregon. We had a great time and decided to make a second trip this year. As the year past, I realized that all were relying on me to decide when the trip would take place. I decided there was a time I could get off work just after completing my written radiology boards in early September. We ended up planning for September 13-16. I looked at several routes and thought it would be fun to see the Olympic Peninsula, Vancouver Island and then cross over the North Cascades Highway. A few days before the trip was scheduled to start, the forecasts started coming in for lots of rain, especially North of here over the Olympics. I poured over maps and put together a new route that would decreased our chance of riding in the rain (more on this later). We decided to head south along the Oregon Coast retracing last year’s route to Coos Bay, OR. We would then head further south to Crescent City, CA and the Redwoods.
We had a total of 8 riders on our trip this year; doubling last years count. Phil, Ron and Karl rode the same bikes they had last year, Karl on his Honda Goldwing 1500, Phil on his Honda Valkyrie Interstate 1500 and Ron on the Yamaha FJR 1300 sport/touring bike. I was obliged to rent a Harley-Davidson Road King at a local dealership. Two more of the Bleazard brothers came on this year’s trip, my dad Lynn and his brother Lloyd. My Dad rode his slightly modified ’82 Yamaha Maxim 750 and Lloyd a brand new 2006 Kawasaki Vulcan 900 (This bike just came out this year and so aftermarket supplies were in short supply and mounting hardware for the windshield was welded by Lloyd himself. Ron Davis also came. He is a member of the Columbia Basin Ward and nearby neighbor of the Bleazard Dairy Farm. He rode his Yamaha Venture 1300. Lastly, but certainly not the least memorable member of the group was Jeff Loveland. He is a friend and neighbor of mine. He brought along his Harley Sportster 1200C which he recently bought to match his mustache and other Harley riding garb.
The whole adventure started on 9/13 while I was still at work. The 6 from Pasco left in the early afternoon to come to our home here in Portland, OR. About and hour or so from home Ron Davis had a blowout of his rear tire. They were able to get him up and running again, but he was forced to go back home and get a new tire put on his motorcycle. He ended up leaving for Portland at 2:00 AM on the 14th in order to catch up to the group. Later, he was happy he had returned home, because it was cold enough at 2:00 am that he brought along a warm snowmobile suit. You'll see this was fortuitous…
On Wednesday night everyone got separated and confused on the Portland Freeways. The five remaining in the group arrived in three separate parties. We even sent out a search and rescue party for Lloyd who was only a ½ mile or so from my house. But, with everyone in the house and the bike packed into our garage, we were ready to settle in for the night. Jeff came over to the house to get to know everyone and shoot the breeze. We told a few stories about last year’s trip and how it was somewhat tough because of the storm we had outrun. Everyone got a pretty good night sleep, except Ron Davis as he was on his way through the wee hours of the morning.
I had a hard time sleeping and was up by 5:30 and went for a run with our dog. By the time I got home, most everyone had already gotten out of bed. Angie made some breakfast burritos and croissants and we were ready to go. Just as we were finishing up breakfast, Ron Davis called to find directions to the house. He was just 20 minutes away. We were a bit surprised given we weren;t sure he was even coming. By 9:00 we were all in the driveway, dressed and had the bikes running; we were on our way, sort of? Our first stop was about 6 miles away at a Honda/Yamaha dealership. A few riders had discovered that they needed some "supplies." We then took the scenic route out of Beaverton along Scholls Ferry through the tiny town of Scholls and over Bald Mountain to Newberg. From there we headed straight for the coast along 99W and highway 18. The next stop was in McMinnville at the Spruce Goose museum of flight. We did not pay to get in but could still appreciate the size of the immense airplane. From there we got back on the road. About 20 miles before we arrived in Lincoln City the sky began to darken and before we knew it was raining fairly steadily. We stopped, donned our raingear and got back moving down the road. It continued to rain through Lincoln City and again sporadically through Newport. The rain really took the adventurous nature of our trip away and we skipped some of the scenic ouffshoot on the Oregon Coast.
Upon arrival in Newport everyone was pretty wet and wanted to stop for lunch. Karl and Ron Davis went to Wal-Mart to get some boots while the rest of us headed about 10 blocks up the road to a Quiznos sandwich shop. Dad and I were in the rear of a group and witness a two-car accident. The ladies in the car were shook up, but when they started making accusations about suing each other we decided they would be okay and moved on our way. Just as we were leaving Quiznos, there was some good news, a man who had just come from the south said there was no rain about 20 minutes down the road. And thus it was; the rain soon abated and we enjoyed to beautiful winding 101 between Newport and Florence. I love the rugged coastline along that stretch, with the steep mountainous cliffs falling straight into the frothy violent waves below. By tradition we stopped and the Haceta head lighthouse parking lot. It is at the base of a huge bridge that crosses a beautiful little cove. Everyone took pictures and some walked down by the water to enjoy the beach. The group then made its way to a viewpoint that sits on a cliff above the cove where we had stopped and provides and unobstructed view of the lighthouse and bed and breakfast. We enjoyed the looking north along the rocky coast and south into the huge sand dunes near of Florence.
It was around this point that Ron and Jeff switched bikes for several miles. I became aware of this when Jeff flew by me like I was standing still. He later pulled the front wheel off the ground as he was testing out the FJR’s acceleration. I think I now see why Jeff does not own sport bike!
Then it was on down the coast through the Oregon dunes. We stopped in Old Town Florence and grabbed some ice cream a little shop. Jeff purchased a cone with a scoop of caramel swirl. The ice cream he got had more caramel in it than any of us had ever seen. It was quite entertaining watching Jeff try to keep the caramel from running all over his hand and down his sleeves. Though I think the caramel left on his mustache did provide a snack for further down the road.
Then it was on to Coos Bay, this part of the trip had a fairly steady pace winding around bays and over some pretty large bridges. When we were in Coos Bay, Dad and I got a touch of what it is like to deal with road rage on a motorcycle. The 101 is a four lane highway as it goes through town. The speed limit was a modest 40-mph, but traffic was moving much slower around 25 mph. Dad and I were in the back and a lady pulled up in a red mustang trying to get us to speed up. Given it was impossible to speed up, we continued to creep along as she became more inpatient. Soon she was flashing her lights and yelling. Finally a spot opened up the lane beside her and she shot over and passed me wedging her car between my Dad and I. I slammed on the brakes and hoped she wouldn’t run him over. In the end, she finally made it passed everyone, but just about took half of us out in the process.
We stopped for gas and decided everyone wanted to make it further down the coast before calling it a day. We got back on the road and drove about 20 miles to Bandon, OR. Everyone was ready to stop and rest their rears. We began making plans on where to stay for the night. We found a State Park where we were planned on camping, Bullard State Park. The campground was full of RV’s and half of the group decided to go find a hotel for the night while Phil, Dad, Lloyd and I set up our tents. While we were setting up the tents it began to pour rain. This lasted for about 25 minutes and was quickly deteriorating our resolve to sleep outside, but finally it stopped. We then drove back to Bandon and met up with the others who were comfortably situated in a hotel room with an awning to park their bikes under. I must admit I was quite jealous. We all grabbed a bite to eat and returned to our respective spots to sleep. I slept really well even though it rained pretty hard throughout the night. When we got up in the morning it was sunny and cool. Phil had a puddle of water in his tent. Luckily his sleeping pad kept him above the waterline and dry.
I slipped out of camp before anyone got up and took couple mile walk to the beach. It was a good time for contemplation and thought without interruptions. I had the chance to thank my Heavenly Father for the overwhelming blessings I have. It was a peaceful solitary time on a beautiful beach.
We then met up with the hotel-dwellers at a restaurant where they had eaten breakfast. Within minutes we were on our way south. We headed on a rather straight shot though cranberry fields and small country homes to Port Orford. The highway makes a left turn in the middle of the town and as you approach the turn you can see a city street that says, "Ocean View" with a large arrow. We took the turnoff. The view was phenomenal. You could see along the golden sandstone cliffs to the south. There are large rocks jetting out of the ocean, which are surrounded by aprons of frothy seawater. The water is a vivid blue, almost sky blue in color rather than the emerald green you see farther north near Cannon Beach. After gawking for a while we again headed south. The next 60 miles were some of the most beautiful highway I have ever seen. You skirt along the beach then cut inland to circumvent the huge cliffs then exist sporadically along the coast. At other times the road would cut inland along a river inlet and you cross spectacular bridges that are dizzyingly high. What a ride!
We stopped again for lunch in Brookings, OR before crossing the California border. Then headed for Crescent City, CA. Just before Crescent City we stopped and debated whether to head east along the Redwoods Highway toward Grants Pass or farther south toward the Redwoods National Park. In the end we decided it would be better to see the Redwoods even if it meant riding into the later night hours. Jeff had secured us a place to sleep in Sun River, OR near Bend. It was our plan to stay there for the night.
So off we went. Though we never actually set foot in the National Park we drove through a portion of the Redwoods just north of Klamath, CA. We stopped in Klamath, which is a town of 26 people if my memory serves me correctly. It is the location of the gigantic talking Paul Bunyon sculpture. We had fun talking with the huge woodsman and looking around the shops in the area. The ride between Crescent City and Klamath is gorgeous with the stately redwood trees lining the highway on one side and beautiful views of the Pacific on the other. On the way back to the Redwoods highway we took a shortcut along Elk Valley Road. We waited for Karl and Dad at the intersection so they could take some pictures.
It turns out that the Redwoods Highway (Hwy 199) goes through Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park. It is a winding redwood lined road for the first ten miles or so. It continues to snake along the Smith River for about 50 miles or so. This was the best road on the trip from a riding perspective. Lots of curves and beautiful views. There were also fewer cars on this portion of the trip. I loved this highway. Jeff and I were in front and we came into a long tunnel about 200 yards long. It was thunderingly loud in the tunnel as Jeff and I revved the Harleys up to hear them echo. You can’t say we didn’t have fun!
We came into Grants Pass about 4:30 and headed south towards Rogue River. We then turned onto Highway 234 going east. When we arrived and the junction of Highway 62 we began to worry. Our plan was to head north on 62 around Crater Lake and drop down into Sun River. Surely a beautiful drive, but there were huge thunderclouds pouring down rain on the Cascades just where we would be heading. It didn’t take long for us to bag that plan and head south into Medford where we would then cross Highway 140 into Klamath Falls, OR. This was quite a bit out of the way, but seemed the only reasonable option.
Before we knew it, we were crossing over the Cascades. It only rained a small amount on us, but the road was wet from recent rainfall. By this time it was becoming obvious that we were in for a long evening of cold riding. The pace of the ride became faster around 70 mph. Fingers and toes were beginning to numb and ears were crisp and cold. After reaching the pass at around 5,000 feet we all were thinking it would get warmer as we descended. Maybe it did, but we were all chilled through and it felt just as cold as we dropped into Klamath Lake. There was another construction site and we were forced to stop and wait for a pilot car. Jeff left his bike running to warm up. Karl then reported that the temperature at the pass was 38 degrees and where we were sitting was a balmy 44 degrees. No wonder we were cold. By the time we reached Klamath Falls it was 8:00 and we were ready to stop and warm up with some food.
We went to Applebee’s where nearly everyone ordered hot chocolate and some sort of hot comfort food (chicken fried chicken). We were there for about two hours before firing the bikes back up. It gave us time to warm up. Several in the group wanted to stay there in Klamath, but many had an Endowment session they wanted to make in the Columbia River Temple the next day so we decided to press on. I know it was cold when my hardcore Harley riding buddy Jeff got out his ski goggles and mask. He even covered up his leather riding jacket and chaps. I put on every layer I have and donned my full-face helmet. We were warm, until we got back on the road.
Now we know this, but at the time we did not: there is almost no civilization (i.e. motels, gas, food etc) between Klamath Falls and Bend. We thought if it gets bad we would just stop and stay the night somewhere along the way. How wrong we were. Just before we left Karl announced that someone in the restaurant warned of deer along this stretch of highway. He and the others suggested Jeff lead the way since he had a loud bike that might scare off the deer. Everyone seemed to think this was a great idea except Jeff. But then Jeff was never one to shy from adventure and led the group off. He tucked in behind a semi-truck and set the bike at about 60-65 mph. He figured the semi could do the job everyone else wanted him to do. We rode for a little more than and hour without stopping. My fingers became steadily colder and my toes numb. Though I had enough clothing to keep my core warm. I was not shivering like I had been when we were crossing the Cascades just before sunset. I was just fixed on the road and watching for anything moving to the sides. We saw about 12 deer and one dead on the roadside, but apparently the truck method worked because they did not approach the road.
After about an hour and fifteen minutes we stopped. This was when I realized how cold everyone was, especially my Dad and Lloyd. I know these guys are not ones to complain. That is why it worried me when they began talking about how cold they were. We rested a bit and let our bodies heat up a bit and headed for a rest area about three miles up the road. There my dad put on his extra coat. Lloyd also added some layers including long johns. My dad’s long johns were wet from the previous day’s rain. Lloyd reminded me of the kid from A Christmas Story that gets so bundled up he cannot lower his arms. Ron was the only one who claimed he wasn't chilled to the bone. He said he had to turn his heated handgrip down because they were toasting his fingers. By the time we stopped a couple more times to warm up we finally arrived at the cabin in Sun River about 12:30 am. We were cold and tired. We had just ridden 120 miles at around 36 degrees. A furnace never looked so good. The cabin had a shed and barn where we parked the bikes. It was large and had a hot shower and plenty of beds. A few took hot showers and drank hot chocolate, but before long everyone was asleep and hoping the next day would be warmer and less tiring. We had traveled over 500 miles that day.
Saturday morning was partly cloudy and cool. When I got up at 8:00 the temperature was 38 degrees. By the time everyone rolled out of bed and we got underway it was comfortable and sunny. We left the cabin and headed to Bend for some breakfast. It was about a 12-mile ride. When we arrived at Shari’s to eat, we realized there were only 7 of us in the group. We quickly realized that Dad was somewhere between the cabin and us. Some quick calls on the cell phone and we found he was almost to Bend. He had problems getting one of his gloves on and left the cabin via a different route than the rest of us. Within ten minutes we were all together and getting ready to sit down. We took our time with breakfast so it could warm up. On the way out of the restaurant Phil noted that there were cords showing through on his front tire, bad news. He was confident he could make it home but decided to stop by a motorcycle shop to see if they could help him out. Because of the tire size, the shop was not able to help him in a reasonable amount of time.
Since Jeff and I were headed back to Portland we said goodbye at the tire shop and headed back west. The rest headed back to the Tri-cities, except for Ron who went to Pendleton to help Marjean with a popcorn stand at the Pendleton Round-Up. It was sad to think the ride was nearly over. From my understanding everyone’s ride home was uneventful until they got just outside Pasco. Ron Davis’s bike stopped running. I was told he thought it was a problem with bad gas. Anyway, it was fortunate that out of over a thousand miles we traveled, his bike broke down only a couple of miles from home. Phil’s tire lasted without incident.
Jeff and I were excited to get underway and explore a new route home. We went west through Sisters, OR and over Santiam Pass. This is a beautiful highway that winds up the Cascade Range through some rugged fire stained mountains. It passes Mt. Washington, Mt. Jefferson and Three-fingered Jack. It had warmed up enough that when we left I was in my riding jacket, open helmet and a pair of jeans. When we got back up around 5,000 feet again, I was wishing I had dressed warmer. But before I knew it we were descending below 2,000 feet. It warmed up a bit and only rained a few drops here and there. When we arrived in Detroit we had planned on stopping for gas. Detroit is a tiny mountain town on the edge of Detroit Lake. We were happy to discover they were having a classic car show on the main street. We browsed the cars that ranged from a beautifully maintained Studebaker to supercharged dragsters. It was great fun.
From Detroit, we got gas and headed up a forest road that crosses over to Estacada. This was one of the best choices on the entire trip. The road was windy and abandoned for the first fifty or so miles. Jeff loves this type of road and put his Sportster to the test leaning into the steep corners. Other than a quick bathroom stop we did not stop until we got to the Harley dealership in Gladstone, OR. This was one of the best parts of the trip.
Upon arrival I turned in the bike which looked like it had been through a mud bog with all the road film and dirt it had on it. The rental guy just laughed and commented that we must have had a memorable time. I had traveled 950 miles on the trip. Jeff and I salivated over the 2007 Harleys and custom choppers for a few minutes and I jumped in my car and headed home.
I had a wonderful time on the trip. We definitely had some memorable times. I hope we will remember both the trials we faced and gorgeous places we saw. I was so glad to see all the Bleazard brothers together. Both Ron and Jeff were great to have along and contributed to the interesting group dynamics. It was good enough that Phil and Karl were planning next year’s trip before we left Bend, something about Glacier National Park and Banff, Canada. I can’t wait….
