Day 7

Well, after seven days and 3,323.3 miles, we’re in Portland (McMinnville to be exact). The last day was the hardest. We figured it would be a nice easy ride up the coast with some pretty scenery and nice weather. We left the fishing lodge at around 8 and rode until we hit the coast. I was getting frustrated at how cold it was but figured it would warm up after a little while. There was a thin cloud cover that prevented the heat of the sun from penetrating. Dad said that it usually burned off by noon so we just put a bunch of layers on to try and keep warm until then. Noon came and the clouds were still there. As we rode up the coast, the clouds got heavier, the air got colder, and the wind started to pick up. The majority of highway 101 was a battle with the cold temperatures and strong wind gusts. Every now and then we would come to a place where the sky was clear, but the wind was still so strong that it didn’t avail much. There were plenty of travelers on 101. A lot of them were on motorcycles, some in cars, some on bicycles, some on foot. It’s a popular highway, and I can see why. The redwoods were especially nice. Some of those trees had been there since before America was a nation, and some even longer. We couldn’t stay long though. The road was slow and we still had 400 miles to Portland.

We hoped the wind would die down after we got out of Southern Oregon. It never did. To escape the wind and cold we needed to get to the other side of the coastal range, but doing that before our designated cut off point would add another hour to the day. We stopped to talk it over and decided to just tough it out. After another 75 miles of the stuff we finally hit Lincoln City. By this time the sun was going down, the air was at 50 degrees at a stand still, and we began to ride through a thick fog that produced a light mist. It seemed our last day had to give us one more challenge before letting us reach our destination. When we got over the mountains the wind died down and clouds cleared, but it was getting dark so the air didn’t warm up too much. Either my body had gone numb by that point or I just learned to deal with it, I’m not sure which one. It doesn’t matter. The East side of the mountains was a nice ride through the hills. There were vineyards, ranches, farms, and orchards on either side of the road and in the distance hills thick with Douglass Fir. It was nice to be in familiar territory again. We got to the family ranch at about 9:30. It was nice to get there safely but we were kind of disappointed about the trip being over.

We no doubt had a lot of time to think during the ride. I thought about the passage of time a lot. We were planning this trip months ago, then before we knew it, it was the night before. Then day 1 was over, and day 2, etc. We anticipated each day and watched it come to pass, until all the mystery of it all had been revealed. To tell you the truth I didn’t want to do a blog. I feel it was just another avenue to narcissism. But I’m glad we did it. We have labored write everything that could be depicted in words on this blog. The vast majority of what we experienced can not be talked about; only seen. The way the landscape slowly changed as we headed West and then North and how the weather seemed to compliment it, or the monotonous feeling of tacking on miles down a long, straight road through the desert, or the thrill of climbing a winding road up a mountain and the thrill of finally getting to the top. We’re both sad that it’s over, but happy we did it. Lord willing, I would like to do it again at some point. We’ll see.

Thanks for all the prayers. The Lord kept us safe. I saw plenty of opportunities for something to happen that would have cut the trip short, but none of it actually came to pass.

p.s. If you would like to see pictu

res, they will be up within the next couple of days, so just check back.

-Travis

Day 6

I will try to keep tonights post brief. I’m dead tired and tomorrow we have about 400 miles of winding roads to do. I have a feeling we’ll be hobbling into Mcminnville late in the evening, beaten, exhausted, but victorious. Today was some of the best riding we’ve seen the whole trip. We left June Lake in the Sierras at 8:30 and rode through the mountains to Yosemite. Now I had heard about Yosemite before we went there, and at one point I had even seen pictures, but once again I was humbled. It was incredible. We took a scenic road through the park that lasted about an hour and a half. When we entered the park, we were already at about 8000 ft. The beginning of the road was a slight downgrade that wound in and out of the mountains. It went through meadows and fields, up to the tops of peaks and down into the forest. The meadows were enchanting. Smooth grey boulders were strewn about the fields and clear rocky streams snaked about, eventually meeting up with the bigger rivers. Thick forests comprised mostly of pine provided a barrier, and behind them, a backdrop of snow spotted peaks. We got to a look out point that was about 9000 feet up. I saw a sign that gave some fun facts about the highway we were on. At that altitude, snow covers the road 6 to 9 months out of the year. Crews start in early April and take as long as three months to clear the snow, facing avalanches and ice crevaces. A few miles up the road and we were at about 10,000 ft. Dad saw some flowers he wanted to take pictures of so we stopped. While he was playing photographer I hiked up a mild rock face. It’s amazing what that altitude will do to your body’s performance. It took 5 minutes for me to be winded. We continued our ride through the park, and I continued marveling at the Lord’s creation. Once we got out of the park we realized we had ridden 2 hours with no real progress in terms of our goal, so we dipped down into the valley.

We were now in the California countryside. From afar it looked like the rolling hills of the desert, but as we got closer, I found that it was golden-brown grass. Once again, I was surprised and humbled. The road went up and down, left and right, in and out of ranchland. The color of the grass was so full that it looked like wheat. The fields were dotted with big oaks, and plenty of horses and cattle were enjoying the land. It slowly turned from hills to flat land (bummer!) as we made our way towards Sacramento. We needed to get our mileage up so we got on the freeway. It wasn’t nearly as fun as the mountains and hills. I was once again conscience of the effect 2700 miles had on my tookus. We took I-5 for 200 miles or so and then started to climb back into the mountains. I believe we are in California’s coastal range. It is starting to look, smell, and feel at lot like the Northwest. We rode through the mountains for about an hour on arguably one of the best roads a guy with a motorcycle can find, but as the sun started to set we looked for a place to set up camp. We came across a fishing lodge owned by some really friendly fellas. It sits on a river full of trout and salmon. Too bad we didn’t bring fishing poles. I like this place. It’s miles from the nearest town and the landscape is beautiful.

p.s. once again there will not be pictures for this one because it is taking hours for the them to upload. If you google Yosemite or the Sierra Nevada you’ll get an idea of where we were most of the day. God bless!

-travis

Day 5

We covered a lot of ground today, so I’ll just start where we did. We left the creepy Route 66 town at around 6 am and headed for Las Vegas. We knew we had to go through Death Valley, and the lowest it gets during this time of the year is 100 degrees so we wanted to get out there as early as possible. We stopped for breakfast in a city whose name I can’t recall and then headed for Vegas. Along the way we stopped at Hoover Dam and gave ourselves a dam tour before heading West again. I had to go to my reserve tank as we left the Hoover’s place, which meant I had roughly 45 miles left in my tank. The sign said 39 miles to Vegas. We rode through a lot of desert and then stopped for some gas in the city (it was a close one!). I’m not sure I could wilfully live in the desert. It was about 110 degrees, no clouds, no shade, and everything was painted in different shades of brown. I suppose it would have been prettier if we rode through there at night, but then you have all the weird stuff that goes on there. We got through the city as quickly as we could because we didn’t have much of the morning left and still had a long way to Death Valley. Finally we found the sign that pointed us in the right direction and started heading for it. I think it was a little after noon at this point. Before entering the park limits we rode through a little town that sits on the outskirts. I couldn’t fathom living here. It was about 115 degrees, there were dust storms, and when the wind blew it felt like someone was pointing a massive blow dryer at you. What do these people do for work? The nearest city is miles away, the land is too dry to use for anything…but they figure something out. I bet they thrive on tourism. We turned left and started heading for the park. It was getting hotter and hotter, and finally we entered the park limits. It didn’t look much like a valley. There were mountains around us and we were on flat ground, but I imagined Death Valley to be more…deathish.

A few more miles down the road and we came to a sign that said we were at 3000 ft. I rememberd Dad saying Death Valley sits below sea level. We rounded a corner and the road began to descend. Off to the side was a little lookout point that everyone in their air conditioned cars stopped at to get a quick look from the high ground. We took the time to cover our faces with bandanas. The air was just too hot and dry to breathe without filtering it first. We got back on the road and dropped another 1000 ft. The it was getting close to 2 pm by now and we were in the heat of the day. I figured it couldn’t get much worse, but with every mile we rode it got hotter and the wind got stronger. Dad’s temperature gauge maxed out at 115 degrees when we were still 3000 ft. up. We dropped another 1000 ft. and finally we were at sea level…but the road kept doing down. I imagine we got to 400 or 500 ft. below sea level before leveling off. At this point it was about 130 degrees. When we left this morning I decided not to wear gloves to even out the tan line on my wrists. Within an hour my hands were a deep red and the hot air blowing against them became too much to bear. We stopped and I fashioned a way to keep all of my exposed skin covered. The road would wind in and out, then straighten out into a long monotnous stretch, then start to wind again. After about an hour and a half I could start feeling the effects of dehydration. That was after I drank 2 litres of water. Finally we started climbing back into the mountains again. The elevation markers were a sure sign that it would get cooler, and it did. I never thought 100 degrees would feel so good. We rounded another bend and I saw that the road was dipping into another part of the valley. We finally got to the bottom and had about a 10 mile stretch of road before going back into the mountains. The thing I don’t understand is a) how in the world did they build these roads? b) who runs these gas ? (there were a couple gas stations along the way) and c) What?! There used to be a town right here? Apparently sometime in the 1920′s somebody founded a little town/resort thing right in the middle of the valley. It was quite interesting.

I heard that if a person gets stranded in the valley that he has about 3 hours to find help before he is literally cooked, and that’s if he is hydrated. I can see how that would be. It wouldn’t take long before you’re disoriented and passed out from heat exhaustion. If the New Mexico/Arizona desert felt like a blow dryer, then this place felt like a blast furnace. I noticed all the landmarks had sinister names. Death Valley, of course, is one of them. Then there was the Funeral Mountains, Furnace Creek, Devil’s Cornfield, Badwater, and Dante’s Lookout. This probably isn’t a ride I’ll do again, but it was a good experience.

Once we were finally out of the mountains we hit another valley that sat in between the Sierras and the other mountains. It wasn’t nearly as hot. We road along 385 for a while and started to climb into the mountains. Now, deserts are pretty in their own way, but I’m a huge fan of mountains and trees. As we started getting deeper in the mountains, the air changed from hot and dry to cool and refreshing. It smelled richly of fresh pine. I won’t be able to explain this next part very well, but I’ll try. The scenery was just too majestic for words. On my left were green rolling hills that pushed up against the sharp peaks of the Sierras. To my right, a vast deep green field with a few hundred head of cattle, and in the middle, a dark blue lake. The field turned into green peaks, and behind those, the brown mountain range that we had just come over, behind which sat Death Valley. We were still climbing. Soon the pines started to thicken, and as we came over the hill, I could see peaks for miles. They overlapped eachother in various colors of blue and seemed to go on forever. The road wound through the mountains for quite a while and finally we turned off onto….185? All around us were forested foothills against steep grey peaks with snow patches on them. We rode down the road for a while until we came to June Lake, a little resort town that sits on June Lake (hence the name). I cannot describe the beauty of this place with words. It is something you have to behold yourself. It is awe-inspring, breathtaking. I could not imagine beholding such beauty as a lost man. I marvel at the fact that I am able to know the One who created this place. He has used that same hand to reach down and pluck me from the abyss I was once diving headlong into, and chose, by His grace, to grant me faith, that I might love Him and be saved by the atoning work of His Son on the cross. If a fallen, filthy world can hold so much beauty, I cannot fathom what the new heavens and the new earth will be like.

-travis

Day 4

Day 4

Both of us are too tired to do the blog, but I will update our adventure real quick while Trav is in the shower.  We spent the morning at the Grand Canyon.  We really need to come back and hike it to appreciate it, but we acted like all the other European tourists and took pictures while complaining about everything at the main viewing area.  Then we got back on the bikes and rode the south rim which had some nice lookout points where you could stop and do the Griswald tour.  We followed the rim east and then dropped down into the desert and went south back to Flagstaff.  Travis was disappointed that we hadn’t seen desert because that’s what Arizona is supposed to be.  So after two hours in the desert he didn’t want to ever see it again.  He said it was like standing in front of a giant blowdryer.

After we had lunch in Flagstaff we stayed on 89 and headed south to Sedona.  We caught a nice shower which cooled us off, and Travis experienced getting wet and then having the wind dry you off 20 minutes after it stops raining.  We stayed on 89 to Jerome, where we took a break and toured the most vertical city in the US.  There are about ten switchbacks through the town and you catch about 1000’ in elevation.  Of course that road from Sedona to Prescott is an awesome ride with all the 15mph corners going over that mountain.  Once we got to Prescott we motored back up to I-40 to look for a campsite.  The first town we came to was another one of those freaky Route 66 ghost towns.  We got about 10 blocks in and the children of the corn started coming out so I turned around real quick not noticing it was a one way.  Why would it matter anyway with no traffic, but the children of the corn were yelling at us and starting to drop their jump ropes and baseball gloves.  Travis chased me down and got me turned around, but we were both happy to find an open gas station by the freeway.  I asked the guy at the station where the nearest motel was, and he pointed us to the next town down………on Route 66.  So here we are, in a 1950’s motel complete with neon lights and a Bates looking character at the front desk.  Stay tuned…….

Pictures:

Day 3

Wow. It’s already the end of the third day. We have ridden a little over 1400 miles thus far, which means we are within reach of our 500 mile a day goal. We left Ruioso, NM this morning around 7:30 and rode through the Sacramento Mountains. It was a beautiful ride. We got to about 6900 ft, and as we came over the last peak, I was in awe. Below was the valley surrounded by peaks on three sides, and straight ahead it opened up into rolling green hills and gradually changed into rocky desert. I wanted to stop and take a picture, but we were on an 8% downgrade so it might have been sketchy. We made our descent, rode through the hills, and finally ended up in the northern New Mexico desert. Though we had come out of the mountains, we were still about 3500 ft. above sea level. Actually, I don’t think we’ve been below 3000 ft. since West Texas. We stopped at a gas station somewhere in New Mexico and some lady asked us if we were going to the biker ralley up the road. We hadn’t heard anything about it, but said we would check it out. I’ve never seen a biker ralley in person, and I’ve definetley never been part of one, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I have never seen so many motorcycles at one time. The streets were closed off and lined with bikes. Literally thousands. I don’t fit the Harley look so I felt a bit out of place as we rode in. We parked the bikes and walked around for a bit. The people there were nice but for some reason I couldn’t get over the thought that they all wanted to hurt me. I was even wearing a harley shirt and a bandana in an attempt to fit in. I think they can smell posers though. After leaving the ralley I came to the conclusion that it consisted mainly of leather, facial hair, and Vietnam veterans. At least I can say I’ve been part of a biker ralley.

After the ralley we headed for Arizona and started to ride a bit of Route 66. We figured it would be a nice nostalgic ride with some tourist attractions along the way. Instead, it was a poorly maintained 2-lane road that passed through ghost town after ghost town after ghost town. It was kind of eerie. It was obvious that these towns were at one time flourishing, but it seems that when I40 was built, the townspeople up and left. There were gas stations that looked like they hadn’t been open in 50 years, and diners that probably hadn’t served anyone since the Cold War. What I found really odd was that some of these towns were still undergoing construction. About 60 miles out of Flagstaff we stopped in what appeared to be a ghost town. I saw maybe 3 cars drive by, not a single store was open, and not a single pedestrian roamed the streets. But half of the street had just been re-paved, and it looked like they were about to start on the other half. If this town really was inhabited, where were all the people? It was like we were riding through the 50′s after the apocolypse. By the time we realized we didn’t want to stay much longer, we were still 60 miles from Flagstaff and only had 90 minutes or so of daylight. The cool thing about riding West is the sunset. It’s one thing to see pictures of a desert sunset. It’s another to ride into one. I’ll try to explain it, but words won’t do it justice. Even pictures won’t. The sun was slowly sinking behind the mountains, and the sky had a unique array of clouds. Some storm clouds had moved in front of the sun, allowing for only a few deep orange rays to hit the ground. The mountains were a dark shadow against a bright orange and blue sky. I looked behind me and there were various shades of grey, orange, blue, and red. This is something you have to see to appreciate.

Thanks to my ignorance I figured Flagstaff would be all desert, but as we eased towards the city limit, we started to enter into a fairly dense forest of pines. They made the air smell terriffic. It’s a nice city. I think tomorrow we’re going to ride the rim of the Grand Canyon and perhaps stay here another night. Hopefully you guys are still keeping up.

-travis

Pictures:

Day 2

We got a late start today but it was well deserved after yesterday.  Travis was very gracious in his explanation (or lack thereof) of the scratch on my bike.  Then when we got to motel in Ft Stockton I didn’t get the jiffy stand locked and almost dropped it.  We kicked off this venture by watching Wild Hogs with everybody.  Stephanie (my daughter-in-law) asked us which characters we identified with.  I am Dudley, minus the leather helmet.  At least I haven’t hit any signs.

I can’t explain the desolation of this part of the country.  At least we are now hitting towns every 50 miles instead of every 100 miles.  From Ft Stockton we went north on 285 towards Pecos and Carlsbad.  About 30 miles out of town the road became infested with tarantulas.  Now I hate spiders, and hairy spiders with an attitude just freak me out.  But there they were, like a scene out of Indiana Jones, for fifty miles.  They would hear you coming and actually stop and rise up on their legs like they were going to battle with a 600lb motorcycle.  Travis of course was calm, that’s why he’ll be a good pilot.  Instead of freaking out, he observed they were all going from the east side of the road to the west, like they were all on their morning commute.  Instead of swerving I just started running over them.  I ran over a bird too, but that was an accident.  Travis is holding out for the scorpion.

Carlsbad Caverns was cool.  Literally.  It was five hundred degrees outside so we hit that tour perfectly.  After that we went up to Roswell.  Travis went to the UFO festival in McMinnville this year so he was prepared.  He knows where we got fiber optics and microwave ovens.

After a late lunch in Roswell we went to the plane graveyard.  We rode all around the site (which is huge) but couldn’t get in.  I think those planes are actually just a front for the UFO’s in the back.  What better way to hide them but in the middle of 100’s of mothballed 747’s.  But back to the story, when we were about to leave we saw a bike parked next to the hanger with a guy walking his dog.  We rode over there and he invited us in the hanger where we got a good look at the graveyard.  He even showed us Elvis’ plane.  It also turned out he piloted the medi-vac helicopter and put Travis in the pilot seat and tried to convince him fixed wing aircraft was for girlie men that are afraid to fly.  Later on he took us up to the pilot lounge and told everybody he had a trainee on board.   In fact, that last ditch stroke of luck might be the highlight of the trip.  We’ll see.

After that we decided to head west and bag the trip north to Madrid.  We wanted to get off the flat and into the cool mountains.  We’re camped at Ruidosa tonight.  It’s beautiful here.

Larry

Pictures:

Day 1

Pre post script: I don’t really read or write blogs much, so I’m not sure what to say. I guess I’ll just summarize the day? Anyway, I think you can comment on here so if you don’t like how I’m doing it, you can let me know.
Well, nearly 600 miles and 13 hours later, we’re still in Texas. In fact, we still have 200 miles or so until we’re out of Texas, which is ridiculous if you ask me. We got off to a rough start, but things are looking  up now. Dad scratched his new bike, we got turned around a few times, the tan line from my gloves is so dark that it literally looks like I’m wearing a skin tight long sleeve shirt…with blonde hair on it. But other than that, the trip is going well.

I wasn’t sure how I should format this blog thing. Actually, I wans’t planning on doing a blog or keeping a journal of the trip. I figured I’d tuck it away in my memory for something to look back on from time to time, and maybe even to tell a story or two. But, peer pressure gave in and I’m doing both a blog and a journal (I don’t trust technology). Right now we’re in Fort Stockton, just north of Big Bend. We didn’t stop much on the way because we were trying to get as close to New Mexico as possible on the first day. We’re close enough I suppose. Leaving Houston wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. We took the route I had planned when I attempted to walk to Austin. Yes, I really did attempt to walk to Austin, and failed, but that’s another story. Turns out walking to Austin was a lot easier on a motorcycle. After we hit 290, we took it past Austin and turned off into the hill country where we stopped at Luckenbach, TX. It’s a quaint little tourist trap that specializes in bikers. It kind of like stepping back into the 19th century. I even saw a guy riding a longhorn. After Luckenbach we headed straight for Ft. Stockton and didn’t really stop until we got here, except for gas and to figure out where we were. Today was pretty uneventful in terms of touristy things. We just covered a lot of miles and made our goal for the day. The scenery is nice. Oh! I ran out of gas once, that was exciting! But then I found out I had a reserve tank so it wasn’t as adventerous as it could have been, but then I only had one gallon of gas, which would give me forty miles, and we didn’t find another gas station for about 30 miles, so it was almost a really good story. Alright, I think that’s it for the day. Thanks for all your prayers. May the Lord be glorified in all things.

-Travis

Pictures:

The night before

In approximately 13 hours (assuming we leave on time), my dad and I will be on our way to the west coast….on motorcycles. There is a lot more involved in moving to the other side of the country than I thought, but as far as I can tell, it is all coming together. We started this blog to:

a) Reassure anyone who might have worries about this trip.

b) Keep everyone posted on a daily basis.

c) Give you the opportunity to follow us on this adventure.

So, that being said, we hope you enjoy.

Travis and Larry