Running for the Barn

We wake up in our cabin at Diamond Lake, ready to face the day. This morning we'll head up to Crater Lake to have breakfast at the lodge.

On the way we actually get a decent picture of Mt. Thielsen.


On the way to Crater Lake are these bizarre plains, like the surface of Mars.

As we come around the bend, we see this amazing view of Crater Lake.

And a few of the locals. These are Golden-Mantled Ground Squirrels, and its really clear that they've been domesticated. Years of tourists feeding them has trained them to come and play whenever anyone stops.


But even with a crowd of our little friends, we still can't help but be impressed by the view.


They are awfully cute, don't you think?

I'm thinking of hiring this one as a guard squirrel.

It's really cold up here. So cold that the roads are lined with snow.

Ready, aim, fire!

So pretty...

We make it up to the lodge, which is right along the rim of the crater.

It amazes me that places this elaborate were made entirely of wood, entirely by hand.

Here, Paul reenacts that great picture Tim took of me at Crater Lake a few years back. It really is remarkably peaceful here.

Not a bad self portrait. Even if I do say so myself!

Breakfast at the lodge was pretty tasty, although most things weren't very hot. The coffee was probably scalding hot when it left the kitchen, but by the time it got to the table, it dropped thirty degrees. Brrrr!!! It's cold up here!

It was time to get back on the road. It was definitely a good day for swooshing, and we had a fun ride down the mountain.

Now here is where I get to make my colleges at Akimbo insanely jealous. There is a show on the BBC called "Top Gear", which is all about high performance cars. A while back they did a show about a car called the Ariel Atom. This car is so fast, it rivals motorcycles in acceleration.

Paul is on the mailing list of an American company called Brammo, which has the rights to making a U.S. version of the Ariel Atom. Since we were driving through Ashland, OR., we decided to pay them a visit. Paul being on the mailing list is enough to get in, isn't it?

When we got there, they were really friendly and were happy to give us the guided tour.

Since these cars are custom made, they requested that I not post any pictures on the internet of any car under construction. You can look at these two though. Aren't they cool? Zero to sixty in 3.1 seconds! Think I need one?

By the way, Brammo is currently working on a electric, high-performance motorcycle!

After our tour, we hop on the bikes and do another forty-five minutes to glorious, Yreka, CA!

On our way to Yreka I see a sign. "San Francisco - 310 Miles"

Paul has an expression. Running for the barn. Sometimes when you go horseback riding, the horse can tell when you start heading home. When they do, they often make a run for it. We have a few friends like this. The second they start heading home, they can’t get there fast enough.

Well the second I saw this sign, a thought went through my head. "I can be home in six hours!"

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to sleep in my own bed. When we stop for gas I mention this to Paul, and he understands the allure. Paul decides that he's going to take the slow route along with Jim and Suzanne, and he'll meet me in San Mateo in a couple of days.

I say my goodbyes and off I go! I-5 here I come! Up this far North, even I-5 has its beautiful sights. Here is Mount Shasta in all its glory.

The rest of the way towards Sacramento is less exciting...

But it is peaceful in its own way.

Now I could have gone the most expedient way, but nothing says "Welcome back to the Bay Area" like the Golden Gate Bridge.

And the best view of the City by the Bay is from the Marin Highlands.

From here its just a hop, skip and a jump home.

And here I am, home again! After 67 days and 14,634 miles, my journey is over.

I'm going to crash for a couple of days, then fly down to San Diego to celebrate with Paul when he completes his journey. We'll be celebrating at Phil's BBQ, so it should make for a good blog posting!

See you in a couple of days! - Peter

The Joy of Swooshing!

It's raining. I know, it shouldn't surprise me that it rains on the coast of Oregon, but I would be a lot happier if it wasn't.

We start off in our rain gear, but after a half hour it clears up. So we pull over and take off our rain gear. Of course, Mother Nature is quite the practical joker, so it starts raining again. So we suit up again.

Fool us once, shame on you. Fool us twice, well, then we'd get wait wet. And we don't like getting wet.

Eventually it clears up enough that we feel safe enough to take off the rain gear again.


Do you think horses mind getting stuck in the rain?

Now I realize that the quality of this picture is just shy of a UFO, but I've been trying to get a decent picture of a bird in flight. Not easy while driving a motorcycle down the road at sixty miles an hour. It's not that bad though.

Today is a good day for "swooshing". What is swooshing you might ask? The way you turn a motorcycle is by leaning the bike left or right. Push left, lean left, go left, as they say in motorcycle class.

One of the great joys of motorcycle riding is swooshing back and forth, especially on a twisty road. Today was a good day for swooshing. Go right...

Then left...

It may seem simple, but its really enjoyable on a really basic level. Did I mention that we saw llamas?

I tend to pick up little hitchhikers along the way. In Louisiana it was grasshoppers. In Oregon it's ladybugs. This one kept pacing my brake cable.

Eventually we make it to Oakland, Oregon. Oakland Oregon is clearly different than Oakland California.

It's a great little town, and the deli makes a decent latte, and an incredible chocolate chip cookie!

Swoosh!

Even the Oregon roads like to swoosh.


And so do Oregon rivers.

There is something about these four trees on the hill that speaks to me.

Mmmmm... cow...

Now this has to be one of the most original stop signs I've ever seen.

We're off to Diamond Lake, by way of Umpqua National Forest. It's beautiful, don't you think?


We eventually stop for gas, and the station is infested with hundred of Sphinx moths.

They're all over the place!

As wonderful an invention the GPS is, often they get confused. Here, Paul and Jim try to figure out why theirs are sending us around in circles.

We finally find our hotel. We live!

They have a nice lodge, with a very good restaurant.

Our cabin was a bit... rustic, with a TV that got sixty channels of TBS. But it does have plenty of electrical outlets.

Diamond Lake is beautiful, even if its really cold.

I keep trying to get a good picture of Mt. Thielsen, but it keeps hiding behind the trees.

Look at that glassy water...

Diamond Lake is truly a beautiful place to visit.

Tomorrow we head to Crater Lake!

It's raining, it's pouring...

Okay, I don't mean to sound like an ad, but I really like the Park Lane Suites. They basically took an old apartment building, renovated it, and added a bunch of cool amenities. So basically I get a room with a full on living room and kitchen, as well as a separate bedroom. I think it's pretty cool.


I didn't take a picture of the bedroom, since I didn't leave it quite as tidy as the rest of the place.

Is all my motorcycle equipment so day-glo?

As I get ready to leave, this couple comes by and comments on my bike. Since I have a San Francisco BMW sticker on the back, they spotted me as a fellow San Franciscan. When they heard that I came to Portland by way of Key West and Bangor Maine, they were suitably surprised.

I fill up my tank and begin my journey to the coast. I'm supposed to meet Paul, Jim, and Suzanne in Tillamook, so I try to get on my way as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Mother Nature had something else in mind.

If there was anything that could delay me, it decided to show up. Rain, traffic, log trucks, you name it. It's a shame about the rain. Not only because I'm not fond of driving in the rain, but because this particular road was really beautiful. There were low hanging clouds, the rain making the road black and shiny. But given a choice between keeping both hands on my handlebars in a rain storm, or getting a picture or two, I had to opt for safety.

The rain isn't as bad as it could be, so the ride, although slow, is actually quite pleasant. It didn't really come down hard until the last five miles. Then it came down in buckets.

Now I know its sad, but the reason I'm so much drier now that I was in say, Palm Beach Florida, is that I'm finally putting on my waterproof hoodie when I drive. I know, it should have been obvious, but it wasn't until Suzanne said, "Did you know you can put the hood on under your helmet?" that it finally dawned on me. Oh well, better late than never. And so when I arrive in Tillamook, I am dry, safe, and happy.

I get to the rendezvous corner and barely have time to get off the bike and pull out my iPhone when Paul shows up. Jim and Suzanne are happily ensconced in a Starbucks down the street waiting for us. So minutes later I'm back with the group, with a hot latte in my hand. Life is good. Very good!

After loitering for awhile, we have one of those conversations you have when you want to do something, but you don't want it bad enough to argue about it. "Hey, how about going to the Tillamook Cheese Factory?" "I could do that." (Long pause) "Hey, maybe we can go to the cheese factory." Yeah, I know, a truly riveting conversation. But we do all agree to go in quest of cheese, and minutes later we're heading down the road to the Tillamook Cheese Factory.

Not only do they have happy cows, but they also happen to be high-tech cows. This display talks about the "cow tag" each cow wears to identify it, as well as keep track of how much it eats, how much milk it produces, and other bovine statistics.

The factory is quite large and impressive, and as you can see, they have quite the assembly line.

The amazing part is that so much more of it can be automated. There is a spot on the conveyer belt where the sliced blocks of cheese are pulled apart and someone puts the individual smaller blocks onto another conveyer belt. Not exactly rocket science. I suspect they did this a hundred years ago, and they never got around to making it more efficient. But can you imagine what this lady says at cocktail parties? "Yes, I work at the cheese factory. What do I do? I move blocks of cheddar from one conveyer belt to another."

Apparently they sent one of these huge bricks to the Queen of England for the 50th year of her reign. They politely wrote back thanking them for such an unusual gift.

Down here is where they make the cheese curds. Ah, if only Steve Rozmus were here. He does love his cheese curds.

I just love this display. It's just like so many others, but it talks about the Rabbi who works in the cheese factory. They have just one, and since it's a seven day a week operation, he's quite a busy guy. The part that I found amusing is that his lab coat has a name tag. It just says "Rabbi". I don't know why this amuses me so, it just does.

Of course, I can't come to a cheese factory tour and not taste the cheese!

It's good stuff. Although I do wish I had passed on the "chili garlic cheddar".

Thanks to the rain, I didn't get any pictures of us driving to Newport. It's a shame, since the Oregon coast is quite beautiful. At least it cleared up by the time we arrived.

Now Paul and I have been on the road for two and a half months, so we are both looking a bit shaggy. When we arrived we both concluded that it was time for a haircut.

After some research in Google Maps, we find a barber. I don't know if it was how we looked, but she saw us and chased us off, saying that she was really busy. The next one was much nicer, but was also too busy. Finally we end up at the "Sportsman's Barber".

Paul instructs the barber that he doesn't want to look scruffy, but doesn't want to look like he's had a haircut either. She does an excellent job, and follows it up with a neck massage, using this ancient but very effective, back rubbing machine.

Now its my turn. I get in the chair, and through a series of misunderstandings, I go from having the longest hair I've ever had, to the shortest! Dye my hair red and I could pass for my brother! I don't think they make guys in the military wear it this short! Oh well, I'm no longer scruffy and my helmet should fit a lot better now.

We return to the hotel and Jim and Suzanne are ready to head out to dinner.

We end up at this hole in the wall place that the hotel manager recommended. We were a bit worried when the restaurant was completely empty, but soon we realized that it didn't matter. The clam chowder and crab cakes were both incredible.

Afterwards, we went to the pier behind the restaurant, and we saw this sea gulls nest. Not only was she in residence, but had two young ones loitering around.

Newport could easily be mistaken for Cape Cod. Take a look at all these fishing boats...

We make our way up from the shore and go in quest of coffee and ice cream. Google maps on our iPhones comes to the rescue again, and we find a Starbucks and an ice cream parlor, just 200 feet from each other. Jim and Paul get coffee, but by the time we get to Oregon Maid ice cream, they've closed. We settle for some ice cream sandwiches from the supermarket, and head back to the hotel.

Other than the rain, its been another lovely day in Oregon. Tomorrow, Diamond Lake!

The road to Portland

Today we return to America, so we have to get to the ferry early to deal with customs.


We arrive at the driveway to the ferry and are greeted by a large man at the gate. Mind you, its raining and we're sitting on motorcycles.


Burly guy: "What name is your reservation under?"
Paul: "Swigart"
Burly guy: "You can't all be under Swigart. What's your name?" (as if four people is too many for one reservation)
Paul: "My name is Hacker."
Peter: "My name is Reeves."
Burly guy: "This doesn't make sense." (Wanders to the office, leaving us in the rain)

Burly guy: "What's your name again?"
Paul: "My name is Hacker."
Burly guy: "Oh, I guess that's alright."



So we finally get into the parking lot and are directed to a tent for motorcycles. Then redirected to an office to get our tickets. Half way there I'm called back because my tire is over a painted line, and this constitutes a treat to national security.

By the time I get back to the office, the door is locked.

Annoying Customs Lady: "You can't go in there."
Peter: "My friend is in there."
Annoying Customs Lady: "I assure you that he is not."

(Paul comes out of door that I'm assured he can't be behind)

Peter: "Apparently he is."
Annoying Customs Lady: "Well you can't."
Peter: "So where am I supposed to get my ticket?"
Annoying Customs Lady: "Go up to that (unmarked) window (in the rain) and wait for someone to help you."

If it wasn't for the fact that I would be arrested, I would have a tizzy fit. Instead I patiently wait in the rain for someone to sell me a ticket.

After all this we get to wait around for ninety minutes to get onto the ferry.

At least the ride on the ferry is uneventful. We cross the Strait of Juan de Fuca and land safely in Port Angeles. We are back in America.

Well, a very wet America. We spend the next couple of hours driving in the rain. The rain gear is doing a pretty good job of keeping us dry, and it stops raining just in time for us to stop for lunch.


The Eagle Creek Saloon is a nice little hole in the wall, and I have to say, they make a mighty tasty burger. No, burgers are not as large as the one on the outside. And much to my surprise and delight, my cell phone is actually getting five bars! I know this shouldn't be that exciting, but considering how bad AT&T connectivity has been, this is a miracle!


The other day, someone commented in my blog about whether I was thinking about my imminent return. I hadn't been until this epiphany. We're driving down 101 from Port Angeles and we turn onto I-5 South. This is the moment that it finally struck me. We are driving home.

Paul, Jim and Suzanne stop at a town called Longview for the night, and I head another fifty miles down to Portland to spend the evening with my friend Bill. He recommends a restaurant called the "Ringside Steakhouse", so I try and find a hotel nearby.

I'm having no luck finding a place, but as I pull up to a stoplight, the most interesting thing happens. A gentleman who reminds me a lot of my friend Shreesh, pulls up besides me on a Vespa. He's a dapper man, camel hair sport coat, jaunty italian helmet, grey beard, with a woman about his age sitting on the back. He compliments me on my motorcycle, and after I return the compliment about his Vespa I ask him about hotels in the area.

"You must stay at the Benson! It's a marvelous place!"

I thank him profusely and follow his directions to the hotel. Apparently the whole town is sold out, as I check with every hotel down the street.

Eventually I wander back to the steakhouse, and nearby in a residential area, I find a place called the Park Lane Suites. It's cool, quirky, 300 feet from the restaurant, and has a room. What's not to like? I settle in, call Bill, and soon we're on our way.

We have an hour before our reservation, so Bill takes me to a cool bar towards the top of the U.S. Bank building.

And here he is. My friend. My college. The lovely and talented, Bill Ataras!

As you can tell, the view from up here is pretty amazing!

So we have a couple bourbons, chat a bit, then head to dinner. And I have to say, the Ringside Steakhouse is well worth a visit.

Afterwards we end up at Kells, a very good Irish pub. Here we switch to Irish Whiskey and partake in a couple of nice cigars.

Now being a loving husband and adoring father, Bill doesn't get to go pub crawling very often, so this is a special occasion for both of us. We wander around Portland with our cigars as we go in quest of an all night doughnut shop Bill likes called the Voodoo Doughnut Shop. Apparently their hours used to be from 10:00pm to 10:00am, but from their web site, they seem to now be open 24 hours. That's a good thing, because as they say, "The magic is in the hole".


After a sweet and tasty chocolate cruller, Bill remembers that there is a cool music club around the corner.

Please excuse the dark picture, but I literally took it in the dark. The "musician", and I use the word loosely plays a note on his guitar, then with the help of a mixing board, lets the note go on and on and on. Then he hits a different note. And lets it drift on and on and on. I don't mean to sound like my father, but this is music? I think you have to be majorly stoned to appreciate a series of long tones with not melody or tune. I get up and make my way out of the club, trying desperately not to laugh.

It's been a great visit with Bill, and once again I've renewed my love for Portland.

Tomorrow I head to the coast to reconnect with Paul, Jim and Suzanne.

Victoria, British Columbia

Today is a pretty mellow day. Jim and Suzanne are heading to Butchart Gardens, so Paul and I get to sleep in.

We start our day at Coyote's Cafe...

It's a coffeeshop/cafe with a very special coffee drink called the Howling Coyote. It's a twelve ounce coffee with six shots of espresso, steamed milk and vanilla syrup. Paul asked them why they don't offer it in a large, and then realized that any more caffeine might cause a coronary!

They really do make a beautiful latte, don't they?

Driving down the length of Vancouver Island is kind of like driving through the suburbs...

Just with a lot more cows.

It does have its moments.

It doesn't take long to get to Victoria.

See, they have a city hall and everything!

While tooling through the city, trying to find our hotel, I ran across this Prius Taxicab. Actually, its a brilliant idea if you think about it. The Prius works really well with stop and go traffic. Who starts and stops as much as a cabbie?

Finally, we arrive at the Admiral Inn.

Tomorrow we'll get on this ferry and head back to America.

Meanwhile, back in Victoria, we have some cool stuff to see. We wander around the harbor and its a beautiful place.


Have I been on the road too long? I think I'm seeing Mermaids!

And since when did Shamu get so much bling?

Walking through town, we go past the Fairmont Empress Hotel. The Empress is one of those grand old hotels that's been around for ages, and will be there for ages to come.

And the Canadian Parliament building... To quote The Onion, "Did you know that Canada has a Government, Laws?"
[Edwin comments: It's not the Canadian Parliament, it's the British Columbia Parliament]

Of course, my favorite discovery was a store called "Out of Ireland". They had a lot of great things, from hand knitted sweaters to Jameson's and Guinness shirts. Some of them were really cool, but even I can't justify $50 for a t-shirt. Even if its $50 Canadian. ;)

After our jaunt around town, we catch up with Jim and Suzanne and head out to dinner.

We end up at a restaurant next to the Fairmont Empress called Pescatores. This definitely wins the award for best dinner of the trip! When you enter Pescatore's, it looks like your average, upscale seafood place. It's dark wood cooled by the wrought iron fans spinning from the ceiling. We had an amazing waiter named Andrew, who started us off with a great Pinot Noir recommendation.

He did so well with the wine, I followed his recommendations for the mussel appetizer, the copper river salmon, and the bananas foster. The man knows his menu and what works with what. Paul took a different recommendation for the carpaccio appetizer, so I got a chance to try that as well. Oh my God! Words cannot describe the yumminess! I made sure that Andrew was well tipped for his delicious insights.

As the bananas foster settles, we once again wander around the harbor. As you can see, the sunset over the harbor is beautiful.

Even Parliament sparkles at sunset.

All and all, its been a really great day. Tomorrow we go back to America.

Lost in Translation

Today was supposed to be a nice, easy, and not particulary controversial day. It's all of ninety miles to Vancouver, and then we take the ferry across to Vancouver Island.


You've got to love those happy, Canadian cows!

And as short rides into the city go, its actually a pretty one.

The plan is simple. Jill is flying back to San Diego today, so when we get to the city Paul will veer off to the airport. He'll drop Jill off and the rest of us will head to the ferry. When Jill is safely away, Paul will head to the ferry landing to meet us. Simple enough?

We get to the city, wave at Jill, and they are off. Now Rick and I are following Jim.

It's not easy to lead a group of motorcyclists. Paul is really good at making sure no one gets lost, and telegraphing all his moves so that everyone knows where he is going.

Like most of us, Jim hates getting stuck in traffic, doesn't like getting stuck at a red light, and if he sees a gap in traffic that he can dive into, he takes it. Unfortunately, this makes it really hard to keep up with him.

As we get into the city, Jim changes lanes, dives through lights at the last second, and gets way past the point we can see him. Fortunately, the first three or four times this happens, we catch up.

Unfortunately, we don't get so lucky this last time. We get to this spot, and we have no idea where he is. Rick, Ann and I pull over and consider our options. Of course, to Ann and I, the most important option is a trip to Starbucks!

So Rick sets his GPS for West Vancouver and we're across the bridge. I don't know how well you can see it in this picture, but you may notice that each lane has either a red neon "X" or a green neon arrow hanging above it. If the lane has a green arrow, its safe for you to drive in. If its red, the lane is for oncoming traffic. I've seen this in places like Australia, and they make it so that they can change amount of traffic going in each direction. It's very cool in concept, but a bit disconcerting in implementation. You find yourself swerving into the empty lane to your left, only to find that traffic is heading straight at you!

We get to West Vancouver and violate rule one of the Guy Code. We stop for directions. Hey, it's a foreign country! Besides, I'm trying to function without caffeine. Along with the directions, we find a local Starbucks as well.

Ironically, this is only the fourth Starbucks I've had on this trip, as they are not as ubiquitous outside of California as I would like to believe. As I order my latte, I get a text message from Paul. He arrived at the ferry early, and they put him on an earlier boat. He's going to arrive a full two hours before we do.

Fully caffeinated, Rick, Ann and I head through some very expensive neighborhoods on our way to the ferry. When we do arrive we're directed to the head of the line (It pays to be a motorcyclist) and we wait.

While we wait, a motorcyling den mother of sorts chats us up. "Oh yeah, this gentleman here is from Nanaimo, don't-cha-know. And this young man has driven all over North America!" She was quite the maven!

As we sail across the Strait of Georgia, I enjoy my last couple of hours with Rick and Ann. I've grown quite fond of them over the last week, so they will be missed.

I text Paul to see if he's heard from Jim and Suzanne. Like Paul, they ended up on the earlier ferry as well.

We finally land on Vancouver Island and make our way to the Buccaneer Inn. Everyone says their goodbyes to Rick and Ann, then we take some time to crash.

Jim and Suzanne invite Paul and I downstairs to the patio to drink some wine and bask in the sun. While we chat, we notice that the flowers on the patio are swarming with bees!

The bees seem to be completely oblivious of us, so I take the opportunity to take a few pictures. They're actually facinating little beasties, once you get past that whole, "Please don't sting me!" part.

Just to prove that we're actually in Canada, here is the parking space outside of our hotel.

To end our day, we walk past the harbor. Reminds me of my sailing trip with Edwin, around the Straits of Juan de Fuca.

Fortunately, tomorrow is a really short day. We drive seventy miles to Victoria on the South side the island. Then the next day we sail back to the United States. I get to sleep in tomorrow. Yay!!!

Some days, you just ride...

Today is just a travel day, since its entire purpose is to get us from Banff to Hope. It's one of the few times we'll actually spend on a real freeway.


It was "wheels up" at 9:00am, which is just wrong. One should never get up this early on vacation. Since I'm the only nocturne in the group, I am not getting a lot of sympathy on this point.

We have a good hour of beautiful mountain roads before we make it to the major freeway, so I try to appreciate it while I can.

While tooling down the road, I see Jill waving off to the left. I look, but there's nothing there. Then she waves for me to slow down. Why? I don't see anything? Then I see it. There is an elk on the side of the road! I'm doing 65, so I'm almost past him by the time I see him. I pull my camera out of my tank bag as quickly as I can, but I only get this one picture. Trust me, he was a big and beautiful beastie!

All and all, things are not looking too bad.

And before we know it, ninety minutes have passed and its time to take our first break of the day.

Rick found this sign for "Pee Meadows" particularly amusing.

Now things start to go downhill. Miles and miles trapped on a relatively ugly, single lane road, stuck behind campers that can't seem to hit the speed limit unless they are driving down hill. Jim loses patience with all the traffic and starts passing cars whenever he can, until Rick, Ann and I are so far back we can't even see them any longer. Being without a GPS or maps I don't want to lose track of them, so I wildly start passing traffic myself. I'm more than a bit surprised that I manage to catch up with them, and Rick and Ann manage to catch up to me. We manage to stay together, but it hasn't been a lot of fun.

About half way through the day we stop at a Diner in Barrier, BC. A nicely lady sits us down, but then doesn't come back for a half hour. Eventually we lose patience and decide to leave. Unfortunately, it will be an hour before we find another place to stop for lunch.

The sad part is that all the roads we've driven in Canada so far have been beautiful. It's sad that our longest ride is along the least interesting road.

Look, beautiful Kamloops, BC! Okay, not so beautiful, but at least they have a Dairy Queen. Mmmmm... lunch. Things are finally starting to look up. After all, doesn't everything seem better after a chili-cheese dog?

We finally hit the toll road, which is pretty much like an American interstate. At least it goes through some nice forest.

There is something about this rock formation that just speaks to me.

After a long day on the road, we finally make it to Hope, BC.

Tomorrow we take the ferry to Vancouver Island. Since we're only ninety miles from Vancouver, so it should be much more enjoyable than today.